Hayley took a deep breath, closed her eyes and let the words come out in a rush of breath.
‘My name’s Hayley and I wish to find the guy I had a one-night stand with ten years ago.’
She flicked open her eyes to gauge Oliver’s reaction. He was looking back at her, no emotion evident, his fingers toying with the paper he’d ripped from the bottle.
Her heart was hammering in her chest as he still made no move to respond. What was there to say now? She had turned flirtatious banter into Desperation Central.
He took a swig of beer from his bottle and placed it back down on the table. ‘Richard and Julian.’ He nodded. ‘Now we’re even.’
21
VIPERS NIGHTCLUB, DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN
Oliver watched Hayley now, stood on tiptoes at the bar, showing off the photograph she’d pulled from her purse a few minutes before.MichelfromBelgium– or so the guy had told her ten years ago. He hated him already, which was, of course, completely and utterly irrational. He didn’t know him. ButMichelhad known her. Lois. Hayley. The so-called artist, with the scruffy, dark hair, had become intimately acquainted with her after just one evening together. Why was that pulling at him? Hadn’t he been intimately acquainted with a number of women that quickly? He swallowed. Almost every woman he’d ever been with. So why was he judging her?
This was madness. What was he even doing here with her? Why had he homed in on her instead of taking up an evening with a simple fling – get in, get out, have fun – the blonde who knew what she wanted?
He swallowed down a mouthful of beer. He could leave. He’d made her no promises; he’d just bought her a drink. But that would be running out on two dates-that-weren’t-dates in two nights. That was serial behaviour. A pattern. He didn’t do that.He’d toldherhe didn’t do that. It would make him into a coward.Weak.His heartbeat thrummed and he blinked heavily.
Oliver watched her showing off the photo to staff. He should find Tony. That’s what he was going to do. His friend could be in just as much of a fix as he was. Or not. If Tony was getting on well with the brunette, he wouldn’t want Oliver butting in. He could call. So why wasn’t he moving? Why couldn’t he keep his eyes off her? He didn’t get invested in women. Investment was never on the table.
He watched her turn back around, her face flushed, her hair bouncing with every stride she took. He blew out a breath as she neared. It wasn’t too late. He could still make his excuses.
‘They didn’t recognise him,’ Hayley stated, slipping back into her seat. ‘But the doorman earlier said there’s someone called Artie who has worked here for a lot longer and he might be able to help me.’
He found himself nodding his head but had no idea what he was agreeing to or sympathising with. He didn’t feel peachy with anything about this development.
‘But typically he’s not working tonight.’ Hayley sighed as she pushed the photo back into her purse.
‘That’s that then,’ Oliver finally spoke.
She raised her eyes in response to the flat tone of his voice. Despite all the encouraging things he’d said when she’d elaborated about Angel’s wish, he didn’t understand at all. And why should he? Despite knowing his two middle names, he was a stranger.
‘He’s working next on Friday,’ she said.
‘Right,’ he answered.
She carried on. ‘And I have lots of other art galleries to try.’
‘Good luck with that.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Is there something you want to say? You look a little uptight.’ She swiped up her drink. ‘Was my wish not what you were expecting?’
‘If I’m honest, no, it wasn’t.’
‘So what reply do you usually get? Wait, let me guess.’ She adopted a pose, leaning back in her seat, the back of her hand held against her forehead. ‘I wish for… something from Tiffany’s and a night in a bridal suite with you.’
She watched him fidget as if he disliked what she was saying. She was obviously bang on the money.Money. His billions he could flaunt however he chose. That’s what he’d been expecting. A wish he could buy.
‘I just don’t understand why you would waste your time trying to find someone who’s not been in your life for ten years.’
Hedidhave an opinion. And, from his stance and pallor, it appeared he was very uncomfortable about the whole Michel situation.
‘I’m not doing it for me. I’m doing it for Angel,’ she responded.
‘So you say.’
‘What!’ She couldn’t help a laugh escaping.
