Chapter 33
33
DEAN WALKER’S APARTMENT, DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN
Hayley poked a whole handful of crisps into her mouth at once and chewed them up over Dean’s laptop, spattering crumbs over the keyboard. Her ideas book was open on the central island, two pieces of material sticking out of the pages. One was platinum coloured with a matt finish, the other a gold gauze. It was part of the décor for a party she’d organised at the local city hall. The Guggenheim dress design hadn’t been progressed but she had much bigger things to focus on now. Her hope was some of these scraps of ideas were going to leap out and help kick-start the plans for the fundraiser.
‘Did you know the Crystalline Hotel is one of the oldest hotels in New York City?’
Hayley opened her mouth at Angel’s statement, more crisps scattering, and she turned her head to where Angel was sat on the sofa with Dean.
‘Hang on. How do you know that? I have the laptop right here,’ Hayley exclaimed.
‘And I,’ Angel began. ‘I have the Globe. The whole world at my fingertips. ’
Hayley watched her daughter poking the screen of the tablet like an old hand and shook her head.
‘So, I’m not really sure how you’ve ended up organising a Drummond family function,’ Dean said, turning his head to Hayley.
‘Shh! Don’t call it that! It isn’t that!’
She had already decided that she couldn’t tell Oliver anything about this. He still hadn’t called so maybe it wasn’t even going to be an issue. She knew his relationship with his mother was complicated at the moment. If she heard from him, if they did go out, she was just going to have to keep the two things separate. That’s what you had to do when there was a conflict of interest, wasn’t it? Or were you meant to come clean? A shiver of acknowledgement that lying to either party wasn’t the right answer ran through her. She’d have to cross that bridge when she came to it.
‘Well, first of all, Mum got a cleaning job and had to wear this—’ Angel started.
‘Haven’t you got rabbits to play with?’ Hayley interrupted.
‘You got a job? What job? When? Why?’ Dean pumped out.
‘Please say a word that doesn’t begin with a “W”.’
‘Hayley—’
‘Agatha,’ Angel chipped in.
‘Kiss goodbye to any more ice cream, missy!’
Dean put his hands to his head, looking completely bewildered. ‘A job? And now this thing for Cynthia Drummond? You’re supposed to be on holiday and… the other thing.’
‘Looking for my dad,’ Angel offered.
‘I know this,’ Hayley replied. ‘And I’m not doing the job any more, just this other thing for the mother of your boss.’
‘We needed the extra money,’ Angel said, leading with an expression that said poverty.
‘I think we need to talk. ’
Hayley swallowed. Dean’s voice was verging on stern. A tendon in his neck was pulsing, his face on the edge of puce. Dean usually only did comedic camp angry. This wasn’t good.
‘Shall I shut my ears?’ Angel chirruped.
Hayley got down from the bar stool and flounced out into the hallway, knowing her brother would follow. She backed herself up against the wall, her head level with a framed photo of Shirley Bassey. There was so much he could say and she wasn’t sure which bit scared her the most.
Dean arrived in the hallway and closed the door behind him. He folded his arms across his chest.
‘Very nightclub doorman,’ Hayley remarked.
‘This isn’t a joke.’
‘Which bit?’
‘Exactly!’ Dean let his arms drop then flourished them upwards. ‘The fact you said that says everything.’
‘Just get it over with.’ Hayley dropped her eyes to the carpet.
‘Oliver Drummond came to see me today. He told me he’d asked you out on a date.’
Her heart skipped. He was going to follow through. He was thinking about her. He’d meant what he said. She swallowed. Why did she feel so awkward about it with Dean?
‘How has that happened?’ Dean asked again.
‘If I told you it all began in an alleyway, would that make me sound like a hoe?’
Dean shook his head at her. Perhaps fighting her corner with humour wasn’t the best idea when he was in this mood. Her mother always hated it.
‘Should I have said no?’ she asked Dean. ‘Is there an employee family no-go zone or something?’
‘I didn’t realise you were looking for a relationship.’
Her brow creased as her brain tried to catch up with the meaning behind her brother’s words. ‘I can’t even begin to understand that.’ Her head nudged Shirley Bassey. ‘I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but what you just said indicates I shouldn’t be. Only the other day, you were commenting on the fact I hadn’t had many dates since I had Angel.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
‘Well, what did you mean? First of all, you don’t want me to be a nun, then you want to drag me to the nearest convent? Mixed messages here, Dean!’
‘Hayley, you’re being over the top?—’
‘Over the top? Wow!’
‘What about Michel?’ Dean asked.
‘What about Michel? We went to the other gallery he said he was exhibiting at when I met him and the only thing they had was a website address… which doesn’t work!’ she yelled. ‘Before you came home from work, I called forty-eight galleries and got nothing, but still Angel thinks he’s going to come running into her life like a dreamy, schmaltzy movie on the Disney Channel.’
‘I just think—’ Dean started.
‘And what does me trying to find Michel have to do with Oliver? If Michel gets in contact, we’re not going to rekindle the one night of romance we had and morph into Brad and Angelina.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do know that. Because I don’t want that,’ she said with determination. ‘Anyway, he could be married. Or… he could have realised he’s gay.’
She gave a satisfied nod as that sentence settled into Dean’s conscience.
‘I’m not looking for a relationship. I wasn’t even looking for a date but… he asked and… he’s funny and stupid and irritating and… I’m on holiday for the first time in nine years and in between the se arching for an ex-lover, I wouldn’t mind having a bit of fun! And… I like him.’
A conscious pang of heat took her by surprise. She did like Oliver. It was obviously casual, but not casual enough to dismiss entirely.
Dean sighed. ‘Well, what about this job? You know you can’t work here without a permit.’
‘Yes I do know that.’
‘So…’
‘So I needed some extra cash because I quit my job, and I took a chance. I thought I could see how it went and…’ Hayley stopped.
‘And what?’ Dean asked.
‘I don’t know.’ She sighed. ‘After the boss finally put his clammy, wandering hands on me one too many times, I thought maybe…’ She sighed again. Dean would think she was certifiable if she admitted she’d hoped to see if New York’s streets were paved with opportunity for them when they got here. ‘It was stupid.’
‘There are harassment laws to stop that sort of thing.’ Dean shook his head.
‘I know. I just couldn’t bear the hassle of all the paperwork and the meetings. It was just easier to leave.’
‘He could do that to the next girl. How could you be so stupid?’
‘All right! I don’t need it rubbing in my face from the golden child.’
The second the words were in the air, Hayley regretted them. She wanted to say she was sorry or retract the fierceness of the statement; instead, she nudged the photo of Shirley Bassey with the side of her head and it fell off its nail and hit the floor.
Hayley bent down, retrieving the picture and brushing the glass with her fingers. ‘Sorry… I’m sorry.’
Dean snatched the frame from her. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s just a picture.’ He slipped it back into position on the wall. ‘I’m worried about you.’
‘I’m fine,’ Hayley responded quickly.
‘You’re not fine.’
‘Aren’t I?’
‘I know what it is,’ Dean said with confidence.
‘You do?’
‘Angel’s coming up to secondary-school age. She’s growing up, getting more independent; it’s making you re-evaluate everything.’
‘Who made you Dr Phil?’ She tutted. ‘It’s really not that.’
‘You think you need to strike out a little.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with doing that anyway. You said so yourself. Or did you mean something more like crochet?’
‘I think you know that in a few years’ time, Angel’s not going to be occupying so much of your time and you think you need to fill it with something else.’
‘ Don’t I need to fill it with something else? Don’t I deserve to fill it with something else?’
‘A job here?’
‘Well, why not? How about a life of my own? Doing things I want to do. Things that don’t involve Angel.’
‘Like dating my boss?’
‘Well, why not that too? I mean, what’s so wrong with that? Why shouldn’t I go out with him? Or is a lowly single mother with no college qualifications not good enough for your precious boss?’ She sized Dean up, tilting her head at an angle. ‘Is that what it is? Are you ashamed of me?’
‘That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,’ Dean snapped back.
‘Is it? Because from where I’m standing, all you’ve done is insinuate I’m mentally challenged for wanting more from my life than a child. All this “women must stay at home and nurture” is totally outdated and sexist, neither of which I thought you were!’
‘Hayley—’
‘No, I’m not going to apologise for taking this fundraiser job.’ Hayley put her hands on her hips and struck a pose. ‘And I’m not going to feel remotely guilty about accepting a date with one of the world’s more eligible bachelors.’ She nodded. ‘And if you have a problem with any of that then maybe… maybe Angel and I should stay at a hotel.’
The thought that all their dollars would evaporate in a couple of nights if they stayed anywhere but a youth hostel triggered an involuntary swallow. She moved, shifting down the hall before Dean could say anything else.
‘Hayley, where are you going?’
‘Out,’ she responded, not looking back. ‘I’m being branded as the bad mother so I may as well act the part.’ She crashed down the stairs and headed for the front door. Grabbing her coat from the hook on the hall wall, she roughly put it on then flung open the door with full force. She bowled over the threshold, stepping out into the night.