‘She’s had her whole life without a father; why the interest now?’
Her mouth sprung open in shocked surprise. Now her fight and flight responses were well and truly triggered. Who did he think he was, analysing the timing of her daughter’s request? He knew nothing about the situation. She shouldn’t have told him any of this. The hazel eyes didn’t look so attractive when they were narrowed in accusation.
‘Thank you for the drink.’ Hayley stood, picking up her bag.
‘You’re going?’
For a fleeting second, he almost sounded like he was back tothat person she’d enjoyed playfully sparring with. But she mustn’t be fooled. He thought she was an idiot for being young and getting pregnant by a stranger. And maybe she was, but she didn’t need it rubbed in her face. She had a mother who had done that most of her life. This had been a stupid mistake. She should have just had one drink, sat on a bar stool and quizzed the bar staff… alone.
‘It was nice to meet you,’ she responded. ‘Maybe ask the blonde what her wish is. I suspect it could lead to your red room.’
She smiled at him, then, with her head held high, she marched to the exit doors.
Oliver sat there feeling like he’d been given a beating. Yet, she hadn’t bruised him with her words, hadn’t raised her voice, just made it very clear he’d overstepped the mark in his responses. And he had, he knew that. Because he’d turned all Neanderthal over a man she’d met years ago, and he had no clue what it was like being a parent. He had asked what her wish was, had really wanted to know, and then when she’d told him, been as honest as a person could be, he’d thrown it back at her.Jerk.
He pushed his bottle of beer to one side, stood up, slipped on his coat and rushed towards the exit. He couldn’t leave things like this, for reputation purposes only, obviously. He’d apologise. He’d offer her his courtside seats at the Knicks. No, that wouldn’t impress her. Did he want to impress her? He hadn’t done such a great job so far.
One of the doormen bid him goodnight but he didn’t respond. He put his hand on the door and pushed his way out into the night.
The icy wind wound itself around him as he staggered out intoa flurry of snowflakes. His only thought was catching her up and apologising. And what then? What was his grand plan after that?
He didn’t stop to think any more. He quickly looked left then right, trying to pick Hayley out from the groups of people on the street fighting the wind. A hint of long, brown hair and the cream colour of her coat had him hurrying off right.
His heart was racing and the snow battered his cheeks as he ducked to try and avoid the full force of winter.
‘Hayley!’ He barely recognised his own voice. It sounded needy and desperate.
Was the hair and coat he was chasing really her?
He tried again. ‘Hayley!’
She stopped walking the second she heard her name travelling through the biting breeze. Oliver Richard Julian Drummond. What was he doing following her? By now, she’d assumed he would be drinking another beer with a random, asking them what their deepest desire was. She turned around, looking down the street.
There he was, moving at a jog up the pavement towards her, the snow coating his dark, woollen overcoat, flecks of white in his tawny-coloured hair. Why had she stopped? There was nothing he could say that would excuse his reaction in the nightclub. She should turn around again, head off. But it was like her shoes were stuck to the snow on the ground.
He was within a few yards now, his pace slowing as he neared. She bit her lip, his proximity, the chiselled jawline and full lips affecting her. Her stomach gave a roll like a plane in an aerobatic display.
He stopped opposite her, his body visibly shaking with thecold. He pulled at the collar of his coat, as if he was trying to close off every gap to the elements.
‘I have to get back,’ Hayley said quickly. ‘I don’t want to leave Dean with Angel too long.’
‘Sure,’ he responded. ‘Just let me apologise.’
She folded her arms across her chest, the wind circling her body, blowing up her hair and finding its way into every exposed inch. ‘There’s no need.’
‘There’s every need.’ He put a clenched hand to his mouth and cleared his throat. ‘I was behaving like a spoilt child and I offended you.’
Hayley’s stomach took a dip. His words made a mark. He hadn’t needed to catch her up. He hadwantedto. How did that make her feel? Tingly was the answer; tiny, dancing sparks of heat were doing a Zumba class inside her. But that was all just circumstantial. He was a user of women – she’d seen it first-hand – and she was not in the market for being picked up.
She shook her head at him. ‘Buying me a vodka and cranberry doesn’t entitle you to pass judgement on me. If I’d had any idea, I would have bought my own drinks.’
‘Ouch,’ he answered, his eyes on her.
‘If you’d had to hear your daughter asking so desperately to meet her father, you’d be here doing exactly the same thing.’
She was becoming way too impassioned now. But it was bursting out of her. The quandary she’d been in about coming to New York, her love for Angel, how stupid she still felt about falling for the first guy to buy her wine. This time, when she shook her head, it was at herself. She stamped the snow off her shoes.
‘I’m sorry.’ He put a hand to his hair, shaking the flakes from it. ‘I was being petulant.’ He paused. ‘And to be honest, I was thinking selfishly.’ He took a breath. ‘I don’t know why but…’ He swallowed. ‘Ididn’t want to think about you spending time with an artist from Belgium.’
