5. Halliday
5
HALLIDAY
“New York’s great.”
“Yeah? But I bet you miss home?”
I exhale steadily and count to five as I enter my apartment building and cross the lobby toward the concierge desk.
“Not really.” I check my watch, holding my phone to my ear with my other hand. “Rory, I’ve got to go,” I repeat for the third time.
He’s been harping on for the last fifteen minutes, killing any peace I was hoping to have on my stroll back from Central Park. I went to sit there with a coffee while I worked on Sterling’s match. I have a few females registered with Cosmic Connections already who could make a good connection with him. Although, until I get them in the same physical space, I won’t be able to tell for sure.
“Maybe I could visit? It’s always been on my bucket list.”
I stiffen. “I’ve never heard you mention visiting New York before.”
“Course I have. It’d be great. You and I could?—”
“I’m sorry, I might lose you, I’m about to step into the elevator.”
Rory continues talking, ignoring me.
“Rory? Can you hear me? Rory?”
I jab the end call button so hard that a sharp pain shoots up my finger.
“Ugh,” I groan, throwing my phone into my purse. “Forgive me, Universe.”
“Sounds like Rory had it coming.”
I look at the woman leaning back against the concierge desk.
“In fact, I think the universe would be cheering you on in situations regarding guys who don’t want to take the hint.”
“That obvious?”
“Yep.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “What is he? An ex? Or a chancer?”
“He’s something,” I mutter.
“I’m Zoey. You’re new here?”
“Halliday. I just moved in.”
“From England?”
“The accent gives me away, huh? Yeah, from London. I’m here for work, though. It’s not permanent.”
Zoey straightens and beams at me. “You’re who Sinclair hired for her dad.”
“That’s me. How did you?—”
“I’m friends with her. I’m the one who told her an apartment was coming up in this building. They’re like gold-fucking-dust. I swear someone has to die in order to get one. Although, that’s not what happened in yours,” she adds, looking at my shocked expression. “The woman who owns it took a job overseas for a year and decided to sublet it. Still, it’s pretty sweet, isn’t it? You’re park-side, amazing views.”
“They really are,” I agree.
A door opens behind the desk as the concierge, Harry, returns from his office.
“Here you are, Miss Zoey. Guarded it myself.”
She takes the luxurious shiny black box from his arms with a squeal. “You’re the best.”
“Just doing my job.” His kind eyes travel to me. “Ah, Miss Halliday. You’re here to see if your delivery arrived while you were working outside on this beautiful day, aren’t you?”
I nod. There’s something about Harry that I can’t help but warm to. And judging by the way Zoey is smiling at him like he’s Santa, I’d say it’s a common feeling he evokes in people.
“Yes, please. It’s for my client.”
He holds up a finger, signaling for me to wait, and walks back into his office.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Zoey says. “I’m in 17B. Give me a knock if you need anything. Let’s hang out one evening with Sinclair. We can introduce you to the best bars to go for a drink that won’t be full of guys who keep calling when you don’t want them to.” She winks before her eyes return to the gleaming box in her hands and she beams at it.
I haven’t seen anyone this excited since the Prince’s dad when I successfully found his notoriously obnoxious son a match.
“Sure, sounds great.”
“Great,” she calls out before she spins, taking her box with her to the elevator bank.
“Here you are.” Harry returns, passing a small brown parcel to me. “Bike courier came all the way from Soho with this. Good exercise if you’re young enough.”
“Thank you, Harry.”
I already have these things at home, but I’ve learned after a memorable talk with airport customs that it’s best to source them locally now, unless I like having my bags searched.
Harry waves me off as I head to the elevators, pulling out my phone and bringing up Sterling’s number.
“Halliday?” His warm, slightly husky tone sends tingles up my spine as he answers on the first ring.
“Sterling,” I return, his name rolling off my tongue with familiarity despite this being the first time we’ve spoken since meeting yesterday. “Is now a good time for me to come and spend some time with you?”
I’ve collated a couple of potential matches for him, and I want to get a read on his reaction when I broach the topic of his first date with one. He was guarded when we met, despite Sinclair’s insistence that he’s not as closed off to love as he’d like to have me believe.
“Now?” I can hear the frown in his voice. He’s likely searching for a polite way to deter me.
I’ll need a special approach if I want him to open up. His energy yesterday was confusing. Open and inquisitive at times, hopeful even. A contradiction to the answers he gave to my questions. The ones he did answer, that is. Most he avoided, albeit with charm.
“I won’t take much of your time. In fact, just being with you while you work will be immensely helpful for me at this stage. You won’t even know I’m there apart from one or two things I’d like us to discuss.”
“Well—”
“Sinclair told me how busy you are. You’ll barely notice me, I promise,” I add.
Guilt I could feel at using his daughter’s name to sway him never comes. He’s a loving father who will do anything to make his children happy. I didn’t need to read any auras to see that when we met.
And I agree with Sinclair. He seems lonely. I want to help him. I can help him.
If he’ll let me.
“I doubt you’d ever go unnoticed, Miss Burton. I’ll send a car for you.”
I smile as he submits.
“No need. I’ll enjoy the walk.”
“I’ve booked a restaurant for you tomorrow night. She likes seafood but is gluten intolerant. I know it’s a Sunday. Not the ideal night for a first date. Thursdays are my preference.”
“Thursdays?” Sterling arches a brow at me as he places the profile photograph of his first date on his desk and runs a hand over the silver-flecked stubble dusting his jaw.
“Uh-huh,” I confirm.
I’m glad I’ve managed to talk him into a date at all. He’s shot down every potential match I’ve shown him since I arrived at his office. It’s only when his defiance waved a little on one client’s photograph before he excused himself to use the restroom that I made the call to secure the table for tomorrow evening.
I walk around his office, deciding where to place the crystals I’ve bought to maximize their effect.
“Thursdays are the perfect out. You can say you have work the next day if you don’t feel a connection. But if you do, then you only have one more day until the weekend to get through on little to no sleep if you decide to make a whole night of it.”
I spot the perfect place for the small heart-shaped rose quartz next to his desk phone and place it there.
“Although, you’re here, working on a Saturday. So maybe that theory doesn’t count.” I offer him a friendly smile.
“As are you,” he muses, watching me with interest as I rummage inside the brown parcel on his desk and take out what I’m looking for.
“Destiny doesn’t take weekends off. So neither will I until I align you with what’s meant for you.” I reach into my purse and take out my lighter, flicking it on.
Sterling stiffens in his seat as the flame bursts to life. “What are you doing with that?”
I pass the lighter beneath the end of the sage leaves until they catch fire, then blow the flame out until they settle into a smolder.
“It’s called smudging. Sage is an excellent clearer of past negative energy.”
I walk around the back of his desk behind him and then around the expanse of his office, slowly wafting the sage through the air.
He follows my every move with an interested, amused gaze.
“You really believe there’s a destiny for everyone?”
“Yes.” I answer simply.
“What about those of us who’ve lived through theirs already?” He spreads his hands, clearing his throat. “I’m fifty, Halliday. I’ve been married. You could be helping someone younger find love.”
I stop, catching his gaze sliding up my body as I turn to face him.
“Love knows no age. Everyone deserves it in their life. Just because they’ve had it once, doesn’t mean they don’t deserve it again. I know you’re only doing this for Sinclair. But can you please try and consider doing it for yourself, too? You might be surprised about what the universe has planned.”
“Did it plan to send me you?” he rasps, his eyes penetrating mine.
I hold the sage further away, so it isn’t near my face, even though I’m certain the smoldering leaves aren’t what’s causing my cheeks to heat.
“Yes.”
His gaze heats, and electricity shoots up my spine.
“I can sense it.” Energy radiates around my body, screaming at me that I’m in the right place, doing exactly what needs to be done. “You’re not going to need me for long.”
“Hmm.” His attention drops back to the photograph on his desk.
I walk over and stop in front of him.
“Juliette runs her own PR company.” I look at the beautiful platinum blonde in the image. Her hair is the same shade as mine. “And she lost her partner, too.”
“She has my sympathies,” Sterling says, moving her photo aside.
“I have a good feeling about her. When we spoke, she was very complimentary of Beaufort Diamonds. I believe she owns some pieces.”
“I hope she enjoys them.”
He picks up a folder on his desk and opens it, reading the paperwork inside.
“Almost as beautiful as the person wearing them,” I say, repeating the company slogan.
He looks at me from beneath set brows.
“She is rather beautiful, wouldn’t you agree? I don’t match people based on their physical appearance. But a certain level of physical attraction can help to unlock other compatibilities faster.”
I slide the photograph of her back in front of him. He glances at it, then flicks his eyes up, watching me as I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.
“7 p.m., tomorrow night. I’ll be there to make the introduction and absorb what I can from your initial contact. Then I’ll leave you to enjoy your date and we’ll have a breakfast meeting on Monday to discuss how it went. That is, unless you still have company. Then, we can do it over coffee.”
“If I still have company?” The serious rumble in Sterling’s tone makes me lift my eyes from where they’ve fallen back to Juliette’s picture.
“Yes.”
“After a first dinner date?”
“A lot can manifest on a first date. After eating a five-course dinner, I’d rather be laid out in comfort and a stretchy waistband than being intimate with someone new and thinking about how I look naked. But not everyone shares that view.”
Sterling barks out a rich chuckle. “You’d look beautiful, I have no doubt.” His eyes roam over my fitted pant suit before he clears his throat.
My phone buzzes on his mahogany desk. He tilts his head to the side, reading the upside-down screen.
“Rory’s calling you.”
I reach forward and send the call to voicemail.
“I’ll meet you in the restaurant bar half an hour before, and we can?—”
My phone chimes with an incoming text.
Call me.
I ignore the message lighting up the screen.
“We can have a drink and talk about?—”
My phone chimes again.
Atlantic Airways has an offer on. I could come next weekend.
Dread slithers up my spine.
“If you need to call Rory?—”
“I don’t need to call him.” I place my phone on silent before tossing it into my purse.
Sterling’s studying me as I look back up.
“Halliday,” he says softly. “As you said yourself, I’m doing this for my daughter. So yes, I will meet you tomorrow night and go on the date you’ve arranged. But…” He spreads his palms out before clasping them back together and sighing. “… I’m making no promises.”
It’s already better than “I’m not looking for love.”
“You don’t have to promise anything. Just leave it all to me. I’ll take care of you.”
He holds my eyes, his words rolling over his tongue like velvet.
“In that case, tomorrow night, I’m all yours.”