One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) (28 page)

‘
W
hat the hell happened
?’ Tony burst through the door of the room where Oliver was still sat on the bed.

‘Can you take me home?’

‘That ain’t a proper answer and don’t we need to sign you out or something?’

‘I’ve ended things with Hayley.’

If he said it out loud then it would become real and he could move on. He couldn’t get the look on her face out of his damn mind. He’d made her believe she was no better than one of his Wish Women. Just thinking about the title she’d made up hit him where it hurt.

‘You have got to be kidding me? Why? What happened? Tony exclaimed, running his hand through his hair.

‘
This
happened!’ He raised his hands to indicate his medical surroundings. Dr Khan had been in during the time it had taken Tony to get here and offered him more advice, including the one thing he was never going to consider. Why the word ‘risk’ scared him so much more in health than in business he didn’t know.

‘She stayed the night … and this morning you did your whole collapsing thing and … what? She freaked out?’ Tony pieced together.

He shook his head. ‘It was more like
I
did.’

Tony put his hands on his hips, sucking in his chest. Oliver could feel the displeasure from his friend. He didn’t want a dressing-down here. He was perfectly capable of doing that himself. He just wanted to get home and focus on something else.

‘I got it,’ Tony said nodding. ‘You met someone you actually care about. Someone you wanted to give more than one night to.’

Oliver took a stride towards the door of the hospital room. ‘Really, Tony, I don’t need to dissect it, I just need you to take me home.’

‘Now she’s seen you at your weakest. And she still stuck by you …’ Tony continued. ‘You’re scared, if you make this more than one date, you’re going to have to tell her the rest of it.’

Oliver turned on him then. ‘And so what? She’s better off without me. Everyone is!’

The volume of his voice shocked even him. He watched Tony close his mouth as if he had thought better of saying anything else. He didn’t want to say anything else either.

‘Please, Tony, no lectures. Just take me home,’ he begged.

With that said his cell phone began to ring from the pocket of his jeans. He slid it out looking at the display.
Daniel Pearson
.

‘Oliver Drummond.’

‘Mr Drummond, it’s Daniel Pearson.’

‘You’ve got something for me?’ He tightened his core.

‘I’ve just spent a very interesting twelve hours shadowing Andrew Regis.’

‘Go on.’

‘Let’s just say he didn’t spend the night alone and I think you’ll be very interested in who he shared his time with.’

‘Let’s meet,’ Oliver said, biting his bottom lip as he looked at his friend.

‘Just name the time and place.’

‘Give me an hour and I’ll meet you at Carly’s Coffee House. D’you know it?’

‘Yeah I know it.’

‘Good,’ he paused. ‘Anything on Michel De Vos?’

Despite more snowfall and the freezing temperatures, Hayley had walked block after block before finally having the strength to go back to Dean’s apartment. All the signs of Christmas – the trees on sale, the scent of apple, cinnamon and spiced wine, the carols coming from every store and street entertainer – seemed to be mocking her.
Happy Holidays! Why on Earth have you wasted your time messing about with a guy when you should be focussing on the whole reason you came to New York in the first place. Your daughter.
The very first thing you saw him do was run out on a date. How could you be so naïve and think he would treat you any differently?

She pushed back her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly to the voices in her head. But it didn’t stop a depth of sadness cloaking her. She had only known him a short while, but despite all her mental pep talks she had really liked him.
Really
liked him.

She braced herself before pressing the intercom of Dean’s apartment. Angel didn’t need to know anything about this and she could gloss over the details for Dean’s benefit like she’d done so many times to get out of trouble when she was younger. Oliver Drummond was coming completely off her radar and her entire focus was now going to be on finding Michel and organising the McArthur Foundation fundraiser. Her priorities had become temporarily screwed and she was never going to let it happen again.

‘Hello,’ Dean’s voice greeted. A yapping noise ensued, meaning Vernon and Randy were also there. Great! The whole lot of them scrutinising her and asking about the night before.

She put on an enthusiastic tone any voice artist professional would be proud of. ‘Hey there, big brother! I’m back! And I’ve seen some bargain Christmas trees down the street. Isn’t it time we got one?’

Daniel Pearson had passed Oliver the envelope a few minutes ago and the images were already starting to swim in front of his eyes. He looked hard at the photographs, barely able to believe what he was seeing. It couldn’t be true, it was too outrageous, worse than anything he had imagined. He slipped the photos back into the envelope and threw them to the table. Taking a deep breath, he picked up his coffee cup.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Oliver stated.

‘I have all the audio you need. They made it really easy for me. They talked and did just about everything in his car.’

Oliver closed his eyes. ‘Please, spare me.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ Daniel asked him.

‘Nothing else, not yet. I need to deal with this personally,’ he stated.

‘Fine by me.’ Daniel passed him a second envelope. ‘The audio files are on a memory stick in there.’

Oliver shook his head. ‘I just can’t believe this.’

‘You were suspicious of him, now you have your answers,’ Daniel said.

‘Yeah, I do. I’m just wondering how I’m going to tell my mother.’

‘Rather you than me,’ Daniel said, sipping at his drink.

‘Exactly.’ He hesitated for a moment, what he was going to ask next affecting him far more than it should. ‘Any luck with the other issue?’

‘Michel De Vos?’ Daniel queried.

‘Yeah.’

‘Actually, yes,’ Daniel answered.

A shiver ran over Oliver like a cold, uncomfortable sweat breaking out.

‘He changed his name a couple of years ago. Now goes by Michel Arment. He’s moved around quite a bit in the last few years but I should be able to get contact details by the end of the day.’

Oliver nodded. He almost had all the answers, not that it mattered any more. He drew his cell phone out of his pocket. ‘Thanks, Daniel. The money will be in your account as usual and, as always, discretion is paramount here.’

Daniel nodded. ‘It goes without saying.’ He stood. ‘Have a good afternoon.’ He held out his hand and Oliver took it.

‘You too.’ He called up a number on his phone and pressed to dial. ‘Hello, Dean?’ He wondered whether he was public enemy number one right now in the Walker household. He deserved it. He’d made Dean a promise. He breathed out. But this was business. ‘Dean, it’s Oliver Drummond. Listen, can you spare me a half hour?’

H
ayley had Dean’s laptop
, her phone, her idea’s book and the Globe all set out on the breakfast bar, tapping at whichever appliance was going to give her the answers she needed.

‘I want to go and get the Christmas tree now,’ Angel announced, looking up from where she was brushing Randy.

‘Maybe when your Uncle Dean gets back we can go and get it,’ Vernon suggested. He turned the page of the broadsheet he was reading and tapped the seat of the sofa next to him. Randy jumped up and sat down and Angel tracked his every move with a brush.

Hayley bit the pen in her mouth. Her mind wasn’t in this. It was still in a hospital room at St Patrick’s. What had happened there? How had things gone so wrong so quickly?

She turned her attention to the drawing in her ideas book. The Crystalline Hotel ballroom, a rough draft of how she envisaged it looking. She really had no idea how she was going to be able to coordinate this fundraiser in so short a time. So far she had come up against every hurdle known to event managers. Things she wanted were out of stock, the chef was having issues no matter what she suggested and apparently balloons in New York didn’t come in platinum.

Her phone rang and she checked the display eagerly.
Unknown number
. Had she really been hoping for Oliver? After everything she’d told herself about him, she was still subconsciously hanging out for his call. She needed to wise up. She pressed to answer just as Randy let out an irritated yelp.

‘Hello.’

‘Hello, is that Miss Walker?’

She didn’t recognise the voice.

‘Yes, are you calling about the flowers?’

‘Er, no I …’

‘You’re from the lighting company?’

‘No …’

‘The radio equipment company?’

‘I’m calling from the Fanway Gallery.’

‘Oh!’ Hayley’s eyes immediately went to Angel who was already scrutinising her. ‘Hello.’

‘I’m just responding to your call the other day. I’m afraid we’re not at all familiar with anyone by the name of Michel De Vos.’

Her heart sank for the second time that day but this time it went to basement level. Another dead end in the search. She was starting to think Michel had disappeared off the face of the planet.
Daily Planet
.
Hypnotising hazel eyes
. She needed fizzy wine.
Bollinger
. Why was her mind determined to crucify her?

‘Miss Walker?’ the caller asked.

‘Sorry, thank you for … for taking the time to call back,’ Hayley said. She ended the call, put the phone down and dropped her head with it. Why was everything so difficult?

‘Who was on the phone?’ Angel asked.

Hayley flipped her head up quickly, rubbing at her eyes. ‘Oh just some woman about the thingy for the fundraiser.’

‘What thingy?’ Angel said, her attention now firmly away from the dog.

‘The …’ She had a list of things right in front of her. Why couldn’t she think of one single thing to say? ‘The … the …’

‘Table displays?’ Vernon offered, putting down his newspaper.

Hayley pointed at him. ‘Yes! Exactly that!

‘Maybe I can help.’ Angel got to her feet and Randy jumped down from the sofa, walking to heel.

‘You’ve already done so much, Genius Kid,’ Hayley said, slipping an arm around Angel’s shoulders and pulling her in for a hug.

Angel got up onto the stool next to her and looked at what Hayley had on the screens of her devices. She began to read aloud.

‘
Oliver Richard Julian Drummond is the CEO of billion-dollar technology company, Drummond Global. He is the …’

Hayley snapped down the lid of the laptop before Angel could say anything else.

‘
Michel De Vos, Argentina. Michel De Vos, Libya
. He isn’t there, is he?’ Angel exclaimed, reading the screen of Hayley’s phone.

‘I don’t know where he is! That’s why I’m looking!’ She knew her voice was strained, but despite saying she was going to concentrate all her efforts on the fundraiser she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Oliver and the Finding Michel issue.

‘
The McArthur Foundation – supporting parents, carers and sufferers. We are dedicated to enhancing the lives of the living and caring for the families who’ve lost.’

Hayley turned the Globe upside down so its screen was facing the marble of the breakfast bar.

‘Why were you reading about Mr Meanie?’ Angel asked.

Hayley shrugged. ‘Just getting some background information, that’s all.’

‘I wish Ben Drummond was still alive. He sounded way more fun,’ Angel remarked.

‘That’s not nice, Miss Meanie,’ Hayley told her.

‘Cynthia liked my idea of creating the menu around the favourite foods of the family members who died,’ Angel informed her, propping up her head with her hand.

‘She did?’ Hayley asked.

‘Yeah. She said Ben loved shrimp.’ Angel twirled her hair around her finger. ‘Some weeks, when he was my age, they had to have barbecue every day.’

Hayley thought about Oliver this morning. He’d looked in so much pain before the ambulance arrived. She’d had to help him into a T-shirt and jeans. He’d leant on her for support and then he kicked her to the kerb the second he was feeling better. What was that all about?

‘Can we go and get a tree now?’ Angel asked again, batting her eyelids.

‘What?’

‘Angel, listen, you let your mom get on with her work and I promise we’ll get the biggest tree that can fit in here, we’ll take Randy for a run round the park
and
I’ll shout us all waffles at Bernard’s,’ Vernon spoke up.

‘Waffles? With chocolate and honey and ice cream?’ Angel asked, turning her head to the man in the room.

‘Whatever you want,’ Vernon responded.

Hayley looked to him, catching his eye before mouthing a thank you.

Her phone made a bleep and her eyes shot to the screen.

Her eyes widened as she read the message, each word hitting like pins being poked into a newly-designed dress. She thought this day couldn’t possibly get any worse. It just had. A lot worse.

Dean was practically ashen with shock at the business news but had been surprisingly polite. Oliver had expected nothing short of animosity over what had happened at the hospital. He couldn’t believe Dean wouldn’t have an opinion on it – boss or no boss – so he could only conclude that Hayley hadn’t told him anything. Yet.

Regarding the business issue, Oliver had known deep down Dean would know nothing about it, but he’d had to check. He needed to be certain he could trust him with what came next.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Dean uttered, his hand shaking as he reached for his coffee cup.

‘Neither did I but there are photos and audio files.’

Dean cleared his throat. ‘What do you need me to do?’

‘I need you to come into the office with me and check all this out. There must be more evidence there.’ He paused. ‘I want to know everything about this relationship. I want to know how long it’s been going on, the extent of it, the damage it’s done and how we can rectify it all as quickly as possible without the company losing face.’

Dean nodded.

‘I’m going to be asking you to hack into personal accounts. Can you do that?’

‘Absolutely. You’re the boss. And, if this has been going on right under my nose then I have a personal interest in putting it right.’

Oliver smiled. ‘Thanks, Dean.’

‘No problem.’ He smiled. ‘So, Hayley’s keeping pretty tight-lipped but … how was your date last night?’

Masking the feelings that were erupting like an active volcano he reached for his coffee cup.
Empty
. A pang, like the snap of a rubber band, pinged in his chest. That was his confirmation that she hadn’t told her brother what a dick he’d been. So just what did he say to it? The truth? That it was one of the best nights of his life? Or the other truth? It was one of the best nights of his life which he’d fucked up to protect her?

He smiled, putting on the best performance he could manage. ‘You’ll have to ask her about it.’