3. Halliday
3
HALLIDAY
I flit around my new apartment, humming as I unpack. Sinclair wasn’t joking when she said she would set me up somewhere nice to stay while I’m here. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life. Their very glamorous life.
I survey the open-plan loft style apartment complete with pink velvet couches. It’s girly and gorgeous with polished wood floors and large windows that the afternoon sun is beaming through. And now that I’ve placed a few of my favorite crystals around, the energy it’s giving off is zinging with possibility.
“This is exactly your kind of place, Jenny,” I say softly as I unwrap the photo frame from my suitcase that I’ve carefully protected inside a folded sweater.
I walk to the window, tracing down the frame’s cool glass with a fingertip. Over her cheek, along her smile. She was always smiling.
“Here you go. You can see it all from up here.” I place the frame on the window ledge, spinning it around so it faces the view of Central Park edged by soaring skyscrapers.
I hum, lost in a moment as I remember her laugh. Remember how she always picked out the purple skittles first, then gave me the rest. Except on my birthday.
“I saved these for you,” she says, opening her palm. Her skin has turned purple where she’s held them tightly for so long. She looks up into my eyes and we stare at one another. Then we start to laugh. We laugh so hard I have tears running down my cheeks.
A knock at the apartment door snaps me back to the present, and I blink, fanning my face with both hands as I move to answer it.
Sinclair greets me with Monty in her arms. “You ready?”
“Sure. Let me grab my purse.”
After Sinclair dropped me off, I had time to shower, grab some food from the refrigerator she stocked up for me, call Sophie to tell her I’m living some cool Manhattanite’s life, and unpack.
Now, I’m energized and itching to get started. I love the first meeting with a new client and getting that initial read of their energy. Seeing their aura for the first time. It’s like peeling back the first layer of tissue paper on a beautiful gift. Infinite possibilities held inside. Waiting.
I step out into the hallway, grinning.
“Let’s go.”
“Your father’s house is incredible.”
I thought the apartment Sinclair set up for me was beautiful. But Sterling Beaufort’s double-level penthouse is jaw-dropping. Polished marble floors, monochrome modern furniture, giant pieces of artwork hanging in the entryway. It’s like something from a swanky Billionaire’s Homes magazine.
“He likes it.” Sinclair shrugs and places Monty onto the large sectional couch that has a backdrop of Manhattan’s skyline. “He’s here more now. He used to be on the yacht a lot, but…”
“I’m sorry.”
My research told me that Sterling’s wife and son died in some sort of accident on his yacht. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want to be on it anymore.
My mind flits to the Google image Sophie pulled up before I left London. The one of Sterling on the water. All silver-flecked hair and handsome sun-kissed face. She couldn’t believe he’s fifty. I was more interested in the photos of him at various events. Always with a different woman on his arm.
Still, I don’t mind a challenge. He’ll only have eyes for one woman once I find him his perfect match.
“Yeah,” Sinclair hums as she walks into the open kitchen area and opens the refrigerator. “At first, he was on the water a lot. But he doesn’t do that now. It’s rare for him to ever be at his house in LA or London anymore. And definitely not the one in Cape Town.”
She takes out a plate of smoked salmon and places it on the marble counter. “Here you are, Monty. Grandad has leftovers. I’m sure he won’t mind you having it.”
Monty trots over, and Sinclair scoops him up, depositing him on the fancy bar stool where he can reach the plate. He starts to eat, and Sinclair fetches a crystal bowl from a cabinet and fills it with bottled water.
“Dad should be home soon. I told him we were on our way.”
I nod as my gaze tracks back around the room. There was beautiful artwork in the entryway. But in here, the walls are mostly bare, apart from a few carefully hung framed photographs.
“Lovely photo,” I say, taking in a framed image.
“That was taken in Cape Town a few days before the accident. It’s the last picture we have of us all together,” Sinclair says as she glances at the photograph, then looks away quickly.
Sterling is on one side of the group, his arm around a handsome man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Sinclair is in the middle, standing next to another younger man, so much like the first but with longer hair, wearing a giant grin. And next to him is a woman with long dark blonde hair that falls in waves to her shoulders.
“Your mother was beautiful.”
“She was.” Sinclair smiles sadly.
The click of the front door makes her eyes light up. She looks over my shoulder. “You’re here!”
The hairs on the back of my neck prick up, like an electric current is passing through me. Energy thrums in my veins, heating my blood as I turn.
“Halliday. This is my brother, Sullivan. I called him too.”
I lock eyes with the suited man in front of me, the air stalling inside my lungs with confusion. His piercing blue eyes penetrate mine as he holds out his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Halliday,” he says in a polite, clipped tone as I shake it. “Sinclair told me why she hired you. I looked up your company and your reputation is quite something. I’m sorry my father will affect your otherwise immaculate success rate.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” I answer, ignoring his not-so-subtle negativity. I’m too distracted by the tingling racing up my arm from our joined hands. Gold dances in my vision from his aura. A sign of someone who is highly talented in their field. Disciplined.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your father. I find love for all my clients. It’s out there for everyone. I’m sure he’ll be no different,” I say, fighting off the odd feeling his contact created.
“If you say so.”
Sullivan’s jaw locks as he assesses me. He has no faith in me yet. But he will.
He turns to Sinclair. “Where’s Dad? I’ve got thirty minutes until I need to go.”
“He’s on his way,” Sinclair answers, fussing with Monty as he does a meticulous job of licking his plate clean.
Tension radiates through Sullivan’s designer suit, tinting the air around him. I felt a bolt of energy when he entered the room. One that made my body feel like it was about to burst. But it faded immediately. Now, it’s like a current running underneath the surface of the ocean. There’s something there, but I can’t work out what. Something about him has the cells inside my body fizzing with anticipation.
“Hello?” a deep voice calls. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Sweetheart.”
The bolt of energy returns like a flicked switch. It’s sudden and all-consuming, like lightning in an otherwise pitch-black sky.
I take in the man entering the room, who Sinclair rushes to greet with a hug. He carries the same energy that I felt from Sullivan moments ago.
Only now, it’s hitting me a billion times harder.
It wasn’t his son my body was reacting to. It was the link he shares with his father.
Sterling Beaufort’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he pats Sullivan on his upper arm.
Then his warm blue eyes find mine.
I swallow as a radiant glow blooms through my body like rays of sun bathing the forest floor through gaps in the trees.
“She’s your gift!” Sinclair gushes as Sterling walks over, his eyes holding mine. “I mean… Dad, this is Halliday Burton. I hired her as a gift for you.”
The warm blue twinkles in amusement, and he raises his brows at Sinclair’s words.
“A gift for me?” The deep baritone of his voice is like a soothing caress over tired muscles. “I’m not sure I understand.”
I reach out and take his offered hand, sliding my fingers into his large, strong palm. They’re instantly hugged in a way that makes my breath hitch.
“I own Cosmic Connections. Your daughter hired me to bring love into your life,” I say, gauging his reaction. Sinclair might insist her father is ready. But without a glimmer of belief from a client that they’re open to love, my job is much, much harder.
His lips curl into a regretful smile, but he keeps my hand wrapped inside his. “Ah. In that case, I’m sorry, Miss Burton, but I can’t accept you as my gift.”
“I think you should.” I frown, studying the sadness tinting his eyes and the way the laughter lines around them are tinged with pain.
I’ve seen more pain in eyes than I care to for a lifetime.
“I’m very good at what I do,” I breathe, my pulse racing beneath his thumb that’s gently resting against my wrist.
“She’s right. Halliday is the best. She even found love for that awful Prince from wherever it was,” Sinclair interjects.
“I’m sure you are exceptionally talented, Miss Burton, but?—”
“Halliday.”
His eyes soften at my correction. “Halliday… but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not looking for love.”
I glance at our connected hands, and Sterling’s eyes follow mine before he gives my palm a gentle squeeze and finally lets go.
“I’ve hired her for a month. She’s got an apartment to stay in. You can’t say no, Dad. Please.”
He looks at Sinclair, then Monty. His brows pull together and heaviness seeps from him.
“You’ll be wasting your time,” he murmurs softly, turning to me. “I’m not looking for love. You could be helping someone who is.”
“Friendship, then?” Sinclair pleads. “She’s come all this way. You’ll at least try, won’t you? For me?”
His anguish wraps around my heart as it clouds his features. He’s got his walls up like a shield. It’s been almost two years since he lost his wife and son.
Maybe this is all too soon for him.
His attention flicks to Sullivan, and a look passes between them before he turns back to Sinclair.
“For you, Sweetheart?”
“Please.” She stands rooted to the spot; eyes wide and hands clasped together in a prayer sign.
Sterling sighs. “One month. But don’t be disappointed if?—”
Sinclair vibrates on the spot with a squeal. “Thank you!”
The same burst of energy hits me in the chest as Sterling turns to me. I force it deep down, slamming a lid over it and locking it up. My body must be out of whack from the flight and time difference. I’m feeling energy that’s similar to what I feel the first time I bring a client and their match together. But this is different. It’s making my head light and my heart race in a way that’s completely alien.
I actually feel a little nauseous.
It must be a strong sign of what’s coming. Sterling’s got an incredible connection to make with someone. I can sense it, feel it, taste it. I just need to find them.
“You’re here for a month?” he asks, his voice making the tips of my fingers tingle.
I take a deep breath, composing myself as my excitement builds. “Three weeks should be more than enough.” I smile confidently.
With an energy this strong, something big is imminent.
Maybe I won’t even need three.
“I’ve never not delivered for a client before. If you give me your trust, I’ll give you my everything,” I add.
Something flashes in his eyes, and he runs his hand over his jaw. He studies me for a beat, making my stomach flutter.
Say yes.
His pupils dilate as he looks into my eyes.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to let go. To give this a chance.
A charming smile settles on his face, and he holds out a hand, inviting us all to take a seat in the living area.
“Why don’t we all have a drink? And you can tell me how this will work.”