Chapter Eleven
Jack
Jack hadn’t meant to stare like that when he saw Evie in the window of the café. He was in the middle of Christmas shopping and was hunting in his pocket for loose change to grab a newspaper from the street vendor before he went back to meet Aurelia at Barney’s. The look Evie had given him was akin to how he felt about her—the look of distrust, an unfounded dislike.
‘What about this perfume for Halle?’ Aurelia spritzed the scent in the air beside the fragrance counter and Jack turned away before he sneezed.
‘That’ll work.’
Aurelia rolled her eyes. ‘I want to get my sister a nice present, not something that’ll justwork.’
Jack pretended to be distracted with the men’s cologne. Aurelia was better shopping on her own anyway. He wasn’t even sure why he was here. They’d only been seeing one another a couple of months, and apart from the sex, Jack knew they had little in common. Aurelia had no interest in the things he enjoyed—she wasn’t interested in driving out of the city at weekends, she didn’t want to go for a long walk around Central Park, cook together and chat or laugh over a bottle of wine at either of their apartments. But he guessed he suited her image, a party girl who liked the limelight, liked to be seen and liked to be treated to lavish gifts on regular occasions.
He leant against a counter and pretended to read his newspaper until Aurelia had finished. She must’ve sprayed every fragrance in the store. How were you supposed to tell one from the other? He wondered whether Evie wore perfume. She wouldn’t suit the powerful scent Aurelia had asked him to smell first—Poison, if he remembered correctly—which was an overwhelming spicy fragrance. No, Evie would suit something more subtle, light and sexy.
‘Are we done?’ When Aurelia walked over to him, bags looped over her wrist, he closed his newspaper.
‘You’re so impatient.’
He pulled her to him. ‘Let’s go back to your place.’
And with smiles, off they went.
An hour later, sated and rejuvenated after a quick post-coital shower at Aurelia’s place, Jack walked home. He had his own Christmas shopping to do, but the offer of a session in bed had been far more tempting; long limbs wrapped around his, taking him to places that made him forget everything else.
It was dark now except for the city lights, and all that remained from the snow earlier was its coating on skyscrapers, in the grooves of windows on brownstones he passed, on cars parked for long enough to let winter cover them up. He passed the same café he’d spotted Evie in, and even though she wasn’t there now to quiz about her intentions, he went in. He sat at the same table he’d seen Evie sitting at, ordered a large cappuccino from the waiter with a funny Italian-American accent, and wondered whether he should get in touch with Nicole. It’d been so wonderful to see her again, and the best way to make sure she wasn’t being taken advantage of was to be friendly and keep an eye on her without her even realising.
His phone rang and he answered it quickly. He hated it when people had loud conversations in places like this, and although he’d not wanted to answer his father’s call—it was bound to be work related—it was too late, he’d tapped the accept button rather than decline in his haste to stop the ringing. Kent asked a few fleeting questions about the business, but Jack suspected that wasn’t the only reason he’d called.
‘Anything else?’ Jack probed when the conversation lulled.
‘Nicole came to see me.’
‘Oh.’ He hadn’t expected that. ‘And how did that go?’
‘Not too well. We got onto the subject of Evie. I’m not sure I like the situation, Jack.’
‘Nicole assures me she’s perfectly fine to look after herself and that Evie isn’t taking advantage.’
‘Do you believe that?’
Even Jack had to concede that seeing them together at the hospital, they’d looked more like mother and daughter than a woman with someone following her around to take her money and who knew what else. ‘I’m not sure, but I don’t think it’s any of our business.’ Either it was all true and perfectly innocent, or Evie was an incredible actress, able to convince Nicole.
Kent sighed. ‘She was like one of the family.’
Jack, taken aback by his father’s honesty, eventually said, ‘I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. Nicolewaslike one of the family, but she’s gone her own way now. I think we need to accept that.’ He didn’t admit he had every intention of catching up with Nicole again and making sure she was okay.
When he ended the call, Jack finished his coffee, paid and tipped the waiter and set out onto the city streets again, towards home. When he reached the first intersection, he briefly clocked the homeless man sitting huddled in a doorway, his head beneath a brown hoodie, fingers blackened and unprotected against the cold. That would’ve been Evie a few years ago, and the realisation sent a bolt of shock cascading through him. Being female she would’ve been more vulnerable, and he wondered how often men like him had passed her by without a second glance, or worse, whether she’d been hassled.
The thought coursed through his veins as he made his way home to a warm apartment and safe bed for the night. But he didn’t sleep as well as usual. His dreams were plagued with Evie, homeless on a street corner, Nicole trying to help her and ending up hurt.
He wanted to trust this young woman, but how could he? He was worried Nicole had taken on far more with Evie than she could really handle.
*
It was business as usual the following day. Jack met with the web designer and Braydon, and they agreed on a final design. He went through tedious accounts and figures as he did every month to see where their sales were dipping, where they were increasing. He booked a meeting with the manager of the Chicago store, their worst performing outlet, to discuss strategy.
It was already dark when he left work, save for the bright Christmas lights that brought the city to life. He smiled. As a kid he’d marvelled at Christmas lights whether on trees, houses or in store window displays, and nothing had changed. It still gave him a warm buzzy feeling. He crossed the street before a yellow taxi whizzed past, and when he crossed the next he saw the same man he’d passed last night, the homeless man, huddled in the store doorway. He wondered whether he’d been there since last night or whether he’d gone off elsewhere and returned to what he’d deemed a safe place. His head was dipped against the cold, against the world. Jack couldn’t see his face, but he’d seen it yesterday—unshaven, dirty. He wondered how long the man had been on the streets. What had happened to him that had ended in this? He wondered whether it was a man, or perhaps he was just a boy. What was his story? Everyone had one, yet this was the first time he’d ever thought about it. Usually he passed these people by without a moment’s thought.
