I smiled, nodding. My gift to her. “Hayes Campbell.”
Isabelle’s entire body seemed to alight from within. She hadDaniel’s blue eyes. But my hair, my nose, my mouth… “Oh my God! You saw him? He came to the gallery?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Did he remember you? Did he rememberus? Did you remind him that we’d met?”
“Yes,” I laughed. “He remembered us. He rememberedyou. He sends his regards.”
“Oh my God—”
“Stop with the ‘Oh my Gods’—”
“Sorry. I love him. Did you tell him I love him? No, you wouldn’t do that. Did you?”
“No,” I said, uneasy. We’d begun walking again, the pine needles crunching beneath our feet. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Are you going to see him again? Do you think he’ll come back to the gallery?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. This was a lie. I’d already made tentative plans to see him the following weekend. I did not like lying to her. It was time to change the subject.
“So how’s the sailing going?”
“Good. Really good. I can take the Sunfish out by myself now.”
“That’s great, Izz.”
“Yeah. Even better, I can get it back in,” she laughed, referencing a mishap from the previous summer. It was a great big belly laugh: happy, unaffected, carefree. The laugh of a girl on the brink of all things good.
Dear God, what kind of animal was I?
They were spending the weekend in the Hamptons. The boys were in New York for two weeks, finishing up their album. They’d been in the studio round the clock. Hayes, longer than the rest. While the others typically laid their tracks and left, he tended to linger during the sessions. (“They’re singing my words,” he relayed. “I feel like I have a vested interest in making sure they don’t fuck it up.”) They were exhausted, but they had three days off and theywanted out of the city. Dominic D’Amato, one of the heads of the record company, had offered up his place in Bridgehampton, and Hayes insisted that I join them.
“I don’t want to infringe,” I’d said on the phone Monday night when I was back in Los Angeles from Maine.
“You’re not infringing, you’re coming as my guest.”
“I know. But I would feel uncomfortable with your record exec there—”
“He won’t be there. They’re in Ibiza for the week. Everyone is in Ibiza this week. I think Diddy’s throwing a party. Which means the Hamptons will be quiet.”
I paused, deliberating. I so wanted to see him, but I wanted it to be just us. I wanted to hole up in a hotel room with him somewhere and forget the rest of the world existed. “And the madness?” I asked.
“No madness. It’s just me and Ol and Charlotte. The others are heading down to Miami.”
I was quiet for a moment, and he jumped on it. “Good. It’s decided then. My assistant, Rana, is going to call you and arrange your ticket. She’ll get it all sorted. I’ll see you Friday.”
I took the red-eye, because I didn’t want to lose another full day of work. Like all galleries, we were closed on Mondays, but I was blowing off Friday and Saturday, and I did not feel wonderful about it, despite Lulit’s understanding.
“Go and have great sex and come back and tell me what it was like,” she had said.
“You have anamazinghusband,” I reminded her.
She did. A doting husband, no kids. Exactly the way she wanted it.
“Which is great for like five years, and then it’s just the same guy,” she laughed. “I mean I love him to death. But it’s the same guy. Go. Have fun.”
Hayes was staying in one of the sky apartments at the London in midtown. A massive suite high above everything with stellar views of Central Park. He’d already departed for the studio by the time I arrived, and I made my way past the forty or so fans camped outside at nine a.m. and to reception, where I met up with Trevor, one of their security. Trevor was formidably tall and not easy to miss. He wasn’t as bulky as Desmond, Fergus, and Nick, but Hayes had said he was some sort of Krav Maga expert, and at six foot seven, he was certainly intimidating. He waited for me while I picked up the key card for “Scooby Doo’s” suite and accompanied me in the elevator to the fifty-fourth floor.
