62. Nigel
NIGEL
He tried texting Helen again just in case she’d unblocked him.
No response. Not that he was surprised. When Helen made her mind up about something, she rarely changed it. More’s the pity in this case.
Sloane and Avery were being elusive too. ‘Exams, Daddy - sorry!’
Another evening on his own then. He could do with a drink to help him settle the thoughts that were filling his head before he went to bed.
He headed down to the hotel bar.
‘What can I get you, sir?’
‘Um.’ He was out of practice at this already. ‘An Old Fashioned, please.’
‘And your room number?’
‘858’
‘Coming up.’
A minute later the bartender pushed a lowball glass towards him, along with a receipt and pen.
He signed the receipt and pushed it back.
‘Thank you, sir.’
Nigel made himself comfortable on a bar stool and swirled the drink around in his glass.
‘Difficult day?’
A woman’s voice. He turned to see who she was. Brunette, late 20s, appealing smile, fitted business dress cut to show off her curves. Once upon a time, he would have found her attractive.
‘A difficult week,’ he said.
‘I know the feeling.’ She sighed.
He noticed her English accent.
‘Have you stayed here before?’ she asked.
‘The hotel? Or New York?’
‘Either.’
‘I used to live here. In New York.’
‘So what brought you back?’
‘Business.’
‘That’s why I’m here too. I’ve been offered a job at a big legal firm on Park Avenue.’ She began tapping her fingers against her glass nervously.
‘Are you going to take it?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘You don’t sound like you’re from here originally?’
‘No, I grew up in Devon.’
‘And you used to work here?’
‘For over twenty years.’
‘You must’ve liked it then.’
‘I guess. I fell into it really, and then it was difficult to escape.’
‘Escape? That doesn’t sound good.’
Nigel thought for a moment. ‘I was about to say that was an exaggeration, but I don’t think it was.’
‘Are you happier now you’ve escaped?’
‘Yes. I’m me again.’ He surprised himself by saying that out loud, but it was true. The Nigel who hung out with Helen was the person he’d always been inside.
The woman was staring into her drink now.
‘That’s what I’m worried about. It’s a marvellous opportunity, but I’m not sure it’s me.
I live in Manchester, so I’m used to city life, but New York doesn’t feel like home somehow.
That’s why I spoke to you. I heard you talking to the barman and your accent made me feel better. Does that sound pathetic?’
He smiled. ‘No. Trust your gut instinct. I wish I had.’
He knocked back the rest of his cocktail and got off the stool. ‘But whatever you decide to do, it’s not always final. Life has a habit of giving you a second chance if you get it wrong.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Good luck,’ he said as he headed back towards the elevator lobby.