One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) (19 page)

‘I’m a mess, Hayley.’ He moved closer. ‘Nothing in my life is how I want it to be right now.’ He put a hand to her cheek, let his fingers rest on the skin. ‘But then there’s you. When I’m with you …’

She could barely get breath inside her. His fingers cupped her jaw and all her pleasure senses engaged at once. She shouldn’t let this happen.

‘When I’m with you everything else matters a little bit less,’ he whispered.

‘You’re forgetting you came here under the influence, wanting to give me a piece of your mind.’ She almost wished she had sold a story to the press. Having him still angry wouldn’t be leading to … whatever this was.

He nodded. ‘When I should have known the truth.’ He brushed her hair with his fingers. ‘Because I’ve gotten to know you.’

She swallowed. ‘You only know what I’ve told you.’

He nodded again. ‘And instead of telling me you wanted a trip to Honduras or you longed for a Ferrari, you said you wanted to find Angel’s father.’

She took a breath. ‘And you hated that.’

‘I still do.’ He trailed a finger down from her jaw to her neck and the zip of the onesie. ‘But you were honest with me. You were real.’

She shivered as his finger fixed over the zipper and tugged slowly downwards. Trust her to be dressed up like a toy room helper from Angel’s Christmas storybook when there was a chance she was going to be seduced.

She was getting drawn in by his eyes, her body inching nearer as his fingers pulled her zipper lower. She ought to move away. She needed to just take half a step backwards and achieve even a hair’s breadth of distance. Except she couldn’t move, didn’t want to.

His lips touched hers and she felt the same zing fizzle through her as she had the night before. His mouth was hot, his fingers parting the material of her inappropriate nightwear.

‘God, what is this thing?’ he asked, tugging at the zipper a little more.

‘It’s a onesie,’ she replied.

‘I hate it.’

‘Right now, I hate it too.’

He kissed her again, yanking the fleecy material over her shoulder to release some of her flesh.

Then the front door slammed and Hayley jumped like a startled kangaroo.

She clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘It’s Dean and Angel.’ She pulled the zipper back up.

‘What do you want me to do? Go? Hide? It’s your call,’ he told her.

‘Hide?’ She couldn’t stop herself from smirking.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, a small laugh escaping. ‘What would happen in the
Gilmore Girls
?’

‘There would be hiding, definitely, and lots of talking about random stuff that only highlights the fact that you’re here and we’ve had coffee and …’ There was no hiding the number of cups on the table. Hiding wasn’t an option. She widened her eyes. ‘You have to make this about the Globe. Yes! That’s it! You’ve come here to ask Dean something about the Globe that couldn’t wait.’

‘Like what?’ Oliver asked, tucking his shirt in.

‘I don’t know! I’m not the owner of a consumer electronics company.’ She thought for a second, almost able to hear the footfalls on the stairs. ‘It overheats!’

‘What? I can’t say that!’

The door to the lounge area swung open and Angel and Dean entered the room. Hayley leapt forward, pulling Angel into an over-the-top embrace, coddling her head to her bosom. ‘Did you have a lovely time? Was Vernon’s food a-ma-zing?’

‘Hey,’ Oliver greeted, waving a hand.

Angel struggled from her embrace and eyed Oliver with suspicion.

‘Mr Drummond … what are you doing here? I mean … is there something I can help you with?’ Dean started, putting a plastic container on the dining room table behind him. ‘Oh no … it’s the Globe, isn’t it?’

Hayley nodded her head up and down, eyes on stalks, willing Oliver to agree.

‘Rabbit Nation works fine. I’ve been playing that all the way there and all the way back,’ Angel remarked.

Hayley nodded all the more vigorously, then shot Dean an innocent look, toying with the zipper on her onesie.

‘Yes, I’m afraid it’s the Globe,’ Oliver cleared his throat. ‘I think we have an overheating issue.’

H
er brother was still looking
at the product like it might explode in his hands as Oliver talked to him about something he’d found out on the electronics grapevine to do with one of the components they had used. Hayley felt bad for making Oliver lie and for getting Dean hot under the collar about the apparent failure of his baby. But the alternative was to try and explain what the billionaire was doing in the apartment with her. The two men were huddled over the Globe on the breakfast bar, Dean talking and swiping and Oliver looking back to her every now and then for a get-out.

‘Did you know, Vernon’s meatball recipe has been in his family for six generations,’ Angel said, appearing at Hayley’s elbow, a bowl of ice cream in her hands.

‘I didn’t know that,’ she replied, her eyes still on Oliver.

‘I know there’s nothing wrong with the Globe,’ Angel said, digging her spoon into the dessert and pushing the food into her mouth.

Hayley turned to Angel. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘There are shortbread biscuits on the coffee table,’ Angel said through a mouthful.

Hayley looked to the table. The half-empty coffee pot, the glass of water, the biscuits. Did the scene have incrimination written all over it?

‘He’s Uncle Dean’s boss. What was I supposed to give him when he turned up here? Leftover pizza?’

‘Billionaires don’t just turn up at people’s houses,’ Angel continued. ‘They make appointments in work time.’

‘How many billionaires do you actually know that you’re basing that judgement on?’ Hayley put her hands on her hips.

‘I know what’s going on,’ Angel stated loudly.

Hayley watched Oliver glance over his shoulder and away from Dean’s dissection of the tablet. Her heart was hammering now. She wasn’t that transparent, was she? She made certain the zipper on her onesie was up to her neckline.

‘You got him to come over here and you’re going to ask him for a job,’ Angel said, finishing the sentence off with a firm nod.

‘I have a job,’ she reminded, in a whisper.

‘You think? After the way we were almost ordered to leave that house today?’

Hayley let out a sigh. She hadn’t heard anything from Majestic Cleaning and she didn’t dare call. She shrugged. ‘It will blow over.’

‘Are you crazy? The woman looked like she wanted to kill us and the housekeeper screamed like she was in a horror movie.’

‘Which you are not old enough to watch.’

‘Biscuits never lie,’ Angel said, looking triumphant.

She held her hands up. ‘OK, you got me, I wanted to ask him for a job.’

Angel’s eyes grew big. ‘And?’

‘And you and Uncle Dean burst in and I didn’t get the chance.’

‘So there’s nothing wrong with the Globe?’

‘No … I mean yes … I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t say that.’

Angel’s eyes misted over and she slumped down onto the sofa, ice cream spoon still in her hand. ‘I really wanted that lady to like what we’d done to her room today.’

Hayley moved, plumping down next to Angel and taking the spoon from her. ‘Yeah, me too.’ She dug into the ice cream and ate a mouthful.

‘I thought it looked beautiful. It was warm and inviting, the fire was cosy and the lights made her photographs stand out,’ Angel continued, grabbing back the spoon.

‘We did a great job. It just wasn’t to her taste, that’s all.’

‘And you’re probably going to get fired because of me,’ Angel added, looking glum.

Hayley shook her head. ‘No, not because of you, because of me.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t be working here. I don’t have the right paperwork and this is supposed to be a family holiday. I should be making the most of not working and spending every second with you.’ She put an arm around Angel and drew her close.

‘But what about money?’

Hayley shrugged. ‘We’ll work something out.’

Angel moved slightly, turning her head to look at her. ‘So no more mopping and silly outfits?’

‘No more mopping and no more Agatha. Now go and get another spoon for this ice cream. You can’t possibly eat it all yourself.’

‘
I
think
Dean would have had me stay here all night taking it to pieces with him.’ Oliver smiled as Hayley showed him down the stairs to the front door of the apartment. He felt almost human again after water and coffee and the bathroom visit that lost him half his body weight.

‘I’m so sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else to say.’ She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and put her hand to the gold latch. ‘He’s not going to rip it all apart and start again, is he? I don’t want to be responsible for the crumbling of an empire.’

‘I’ve put his mind at rest I think. Said I wasn’t sure of the model number. He’ll probably Google it.’

‘Or Globe it.’

‘Voyage it actually. That’s the name of our search engine.’

‘I like it.’ She nodded. ‘All about the journey and no connotation of wild animals.’

He looked quizzical.

‘Safari?’

Oliver smiled then. Her eyes were shining as she looked back at him, dewy, alive. ‘Can I take you out somewhere?’

She didn’t reply and he realised he was holding his breath and his stance. He was almost bracing himself for the negative response.

‘I made you stand there for half an hour getting fictitious about a piece of equipment and you want to take me out somewhere?’

‘I came round here drunk and behaved badly. Let me make it up to you.’ He swallowed, then reached for her hand. He turned it over and gently stroked her palm with his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he had stroked a woman’s hand this way.

She nodded, smiling. ‘OK.’

‘OK?’ He shocked himself by how surprised he sounded. She’d said yes. ‘Well, what do you want to do?’

He felt her squeeze his hand.

‘No more wishes. You decide,’ she replied.

‘Are you sure about that? I don’t want to take you out somewhere and have you disappointed.’ In truth he was playing for time, his brain desperately wondering where he could take her, what he could do, how to make the best possible impression.

‘I’m sure, Superman.’ She rose up on her tip-toes and planted the lightest of kisses on his lips. She let go of his hand and backed up the first step.

‘Well, shall I call you? I don’t have your number.’ He reached into the pocket of his trousers and drew out his cell phone.

‘Ready?’ she asked.

‘Hold up just a second.’ He tapped at the screen.

‘077026 415798.’ She turned away and headed back up the steps.

‘What? Was that seven nine eight or seven eight nine?’ he called.

‘Bye, Clark.’ She stopped walking and turned back. ‘By the way, Angel loved the Christmas tree in your lobby.’

O
liver took
a deep lung full of the frosty air before he pushed the door to the office block. Despite the hangover headache he was managing, it was a good day. He had coffee and he had a plan. Today he was going to create the perfect date for a woman he really wanted to get to know better. And he was going to set Daniel Pearson on another mission. He’d granted lots of wishes and no matter how much it irked him, he was going to try and do something about Hayley’s.

He stepped into the reception area and straight away saw Clara. He smiled and made his way over to her.

‘Good morning, Clara. How was your day off? If you tell me you spent it anywhere but the bedroom I’m going to be disappointed.’

Clara’s mouth fell open and she started to splutter as the receptionists behind her giggled. ‘I wasn’t aware I had to report my day off activities to the CEO.’

‘Absolutely you don’t.’ He touched his nose with his finger. ‘I won’t say a word.’ He grinned, indicating the elevator. ‘Going up?’

‘Yes, but …’ Clara started.

‘Before you do anything this morning, Clara, could you get the Christmas tree guys back here and have them put it back in the lobby.’ He looked at the vacant space, not even a pine needle in sight. ‘But get a bigger one. And more decorations.’ He pressed the button for the lift. ‘And get a couple of thousand dollars’ worth of toys to go under the tree. We’ll give them to employees’ children and the hospital.’

‘Oliver, what’s happened?’

He smiled. ‘Nothing’s happened. I just think we should get the Christmas tree back in here.’

‘Because?’

‘Because it’s nearly Christmas.’ He stepped into the lift.

‘It was nearly Christmas the other day when you had them take it down,’ Clara answered, following him.

‘Timing is everything,’ he replied, unable to keep the grin off his face.

Clara shook her head as the doors closed. ‘I saw the front page of the newspaper yesterday.’ She turned to look at him. ‘I called in to speak to you about it only to be told you were out of the office.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘And when I called again, every hour on the hour, I got given the same message.’

He let out an exasperated sigh. ‘It was your day off. What the hell were you doing calling me? I told you I expected you to …’

‘Spend the whole day in bed, yes, the whole lobby heard you.’

‘And did you? In between phone calls?’ He moved himself into Clara’s personal space, ducking his head a little to catch her eye.

Clara smiled back at him, a coy expression on her face. ‘There may have been some marital harmony at some point during the day.’

He clapped his hands together and laughed. ‘Good.’

‘And where were you? Did you and Andrew Regis take the meeting to the country club or something?’

He felt his smile slide and he tightened his lips together, drawing in a breath. ‘Not exactly.’

‘Well, you should know he’s been on the phone already this morning,’ Clara said.

‘OK.’

‘Twice,’ Clara added. ‘And so has your mother.’

‘I see.’

‘Three times.’

He stood tall, ignoring the weight in his chest. Whatever his mother was up to with Andrew Regis he wasn’t going to let it pull him out of this good place he was in right now.

‘Reconsidering the tree and the presents?’ Clara asked.

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘The tree comes back, the presents arrive and when the mail is ready I want you to come into my office and tell me the most romantic place in the city to take someone on a date.’

‘According to the newspaper, you grant women wishes.’ He watched the smirk play on her lips.

‘Don’t believe everything you read in the press, Clara.’ He winked. ‘And why don’t you have William call someone named Nick in packaging. He needs an assistant manager I’ve heard.’

He watched the smile arrive on Clara’s lips. Today he was unstoppable.

‘No, Peter, I don’t really know,’ Dean paced around the kitchen, his mobile phone to his ear. ‘He turned up here last night, said there was a problem and I’ve been up all night trying to find this report on the internet.’

Hayley cringed as she sipped at her cup of tea. Angel kicked her ankle from her seat around the breakfast bar and glared.

‘You have to tell him,’ Angel said through tight lips.

Hayley shook her head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with the Globe.’

‘We don’t know that.’

‘He didn’t sleep,’ Angel stated, a spoonful of cereal in her mouth.

‘How do
you
know?
You
should have been asleep.’

‘I’m going to tell him,’ Angel said.

‘Tell him what?’ She raised her teacup in innocence.

‘That there’s nothing wrong with the Globe and that you’re trying to get a job.’

Hayley watched Angel swing her legs to the side, facing her body towards Dean.

‘Uncle Dean!’ Angel called loudly.

Hayley jumped down from the high stool, spilling tea as she set the cup down and raced to Angel. She put a hand over her mouth and pulled her into her body, muffling the sound. This was becoming a regular tactic.

‘Angel, please don’t,’ she begged.

Angel fought herself free and wiped at her mouth with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. ‘You leave me with no choice then.’ She reached across the table and dragged the New York guidebook across the countertop.

‘Oh please, not one hundred and one facts about the birds of Central Park.’

‘Let me see.’ Angel thumbed the pages of the book. ‘I think … yes … the New York Public Library followed by the Empire State Building and then the Rockefeller Centre.’

‘I thought we might have a look at a couple of galleries and can we swap the library for a browse around Barneys or Bloomingdales?’

‘No.’ Angel crossed her arms over her chest.

‘Oh fine, you win.’ She stuck her tongue out. ‘Go and get dressed then.’

Angel pulled a face and headed towards the door, swinging her hips in some sort of victory dance.

‘I’ll see you when I get in.’ Dean ended the call, putting his mobile phone down on the countertop. He did look pale and harried, and it was all her fault.

‘Listen, I reckon Oliver’s got it wrong. You know what these MDs are like. What do they know about the grass roots of the business?’

Dean was suddenly looking at her like she had grown a second head.

She looked down at her onesie. Had she spilt something on herself? ‘What?’

‘You said
Oliver
,’ Dean stated.

She swallowed. She’d totally forgotten Dean knew nothing about any of their meetings. She could feel her cheeks turning into a riot of colour. ‘Isn’t that his name?’ she offered.

‘Yes, I just …’

She interrupted quickly. ‘Angel wants to go to the Empire State today and, after I’ve phoned as many galleries as I can, we’re going to go and visit some more and hope I get a lead on Michel.’

Dean picked up his coffee mug. ‘D’you think that’s wise?’

‘What?’

‘Going to the galleries with Angel. I mean, what if he’s actually
in
one of them?’

‘Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?’

‘I don’t know. Have you?’

‘Yes, I’ve decided I’m going to talk to her about it at the top of the Empire State, having drunk several strong coffees.’ Hayley felt her chest tighten at the thought of broaching the subject with Angel. She carried on regardless. ‘I’ll tell her I know about her wish and that I’m going to help her find her father.’

A loud bang on the floorboards had Hayley turning towards the doorway. She gasped. Angel was stood just behind her, the special dictionary fallen open on the floor at her feet.