The Dare Collection December 2019. Clare Connelly

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СКАЧАТЬ dating secretly. And I completely forgot. I forgot this is all kind of pretend. Not real. It’s not my place to act like the doting boyfriend, which I’m definitely not.

      I forgot myself for a second.

      ‘Sorry,’ I say, sincerely. ‘I was just so proud of you.’

      Her smile is back, her eyes twinkling. ‘Seriously?’

      ‘Yeah.’ Pull it together, you soppy bastard. ‘Christ, you were amazing up there.’

      She blinks quickly, as if she’s trying to combat tears or something. ‘I have to talk to Alicia. Can you wait?’

      ‘Yeah.’ My voice is hoarse. ‘I can wait.’

      She squeezes my hand discreetly. ‘Mingle.’ Her smile is pure sensual promise. ‘Eat something yummy.’

      I lean a little closer. ‘Oh, I intend to.’

      Her cheeks glow and I laugh as she walks away, before doing just as she instructed, and find myself talking to a sixteen-year-old called Isaac, whose parents kicked him out of home when he came out to them as gay. He’s smart and polite, and, when he tells me he was living on the streets until three months ago when someone told him about Chance, I feel like finding out where his parents are so I can go and give them some hard truths.

      He introduces me to one of his friends, a girl called Bryony, whose parents died when she was thirteen. She was taken in by her aunt, but they fought non-stop. She ran away from home and ended up in Brooklyn, working as a prostitute until she found Chance.

      My gut tightens.

      These poor kids.

      And their guardian angel, Imogen.

      It’s hard to fathom the effect this has on me—seeing for myself what she’s doing, how hard she’s worked to make a difference. I feel immediately impotent and completely selfish. I’ve worked my arse off these past five years but for what? To make myself richer? To make my family’s already considerable fortune greater?

      When this is how people live?

      ‘Hey.’ She appears at my side, and her smile is a little tighter now, her eyes less sparkly.

      ‘Is everything okay?’

      ‘Yeah.’ Her eyes run over the room and before she can say anything else, a young teenager, maybe thirteen, comes bounding up to her.

      ‘Imogen!’ She puts her arms around Imogen’s waist and Imogen dips down lower to wrap the girl in a proper hug.

      ‘Sasha. I was hoping I’d see you today. How are you, sweetheart?’

      ‘Good. I got something for you.’

      ‘You did?’ Imogen frowns. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.’

      ‘I know. But I saw it and I thought of you. Hang on. I’ll be right back.’

      ‘I’ll be here.’

      Imogen slides a glance at me. ‘She’s twelve. She became a part of Chance four years ago, when her parents were going through a divorce. Her mom was living in a car at the time. Sasha was stealing stuff from bodegas to get by.’ She shakes her head wistfully.

      Sasha appears a second later. ‘Here.’ She hands a small bag over. Imogen opens it and laughs, pulling out some saltwater taffy. ‘I remember you saying you love it.’ Sasha grins and Imogen nods.

      ‘I do. So much. You’ve spoiled me.’

      Sasha beams. I’m completely transfixed by Imogen’s look of gratitude and surprise—that someone who does so much for so many should be genuinely chuffed by such a token gift. It’s…charming. And…beautiful. No. Lovely.

      She’s lovely.

      She quizzes Sasha. ‘Did you get something to eat?’

      ‘Uh-huh.’

      ‘And a jacket?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Go pick one out, honey.’ Imogen waves towards the table. ‘The forecast is for more snow this week.’

      ‘I know. Merry Christmas.’

      Another hug, and as Sasha disappears into the crowd again Imogen’s eyes are moist. ‘You ready to go?’ she asks, looking up at me.

      ‘Sure. You can leave already?’

      ‘Yeah.’ Her smile is dented. I wait until we’re outside before I ask her what’s going on.

      I like that she doesn’t try to fob me off. She could have, but, then again, I’ve come to know her pretty well and I don’t think I’d be convinced by a lie. Something’s bothering her, something other than the sight of so many kids in need of Chance’s support.

      ‘It’s our intern programme,’ she says thoughtfully. ‘We have a partnership with Eckerman Walsh for kids who want to move into finance. They take five Chance high school seniors a year on internships and help fund college for some. But they’re going through a significant restructure and they’ve asked to put a pause on it for two years, while they right the ship.’ She looks up at me, apology on her features. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to bore you with that.’

      ‘You’re not,’ I demur, instantly.

      ‘I’ll work it out. It’s just that this year’s kids were due to start in September and now they have nowhere to go. It’ll be crushing.’

      I don’t even think about it. ‘They can come to me.’

      ‘What?’ She’s startled. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘My office here. I run three hedge funds within my umbrella of companies. Let them come to Rothsmore Group for their internships. We’ll take up the same terms as Eckerman Walsh, including college tuition. In fact, I could offer the same for each of the cities my fund has a presence. London, Rome, Sydney…’

      ‘Nic…’ She shakes her head from side to side so her blonde hair fluffs against her beautiful face. ‘I can’t let you do that.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because…’ Her voice trails into the ether.

      ‘Because?’

      ‘Because, I feel like you’re only offering because we’re sleeping together.’

      ‘I’m offering because I’ve just spent an hour of my life seeing that I’ve been a useless, selfish git, that there are incredible kids out there who deserve a better chance in life and you’re giving it to them. I’m offering because I want to help in some small way that I can.’

      Her mouth drops open. I look around quickly and steal a kiss, a kiss that makes me ache for her, a kiss that makes me feel things I can’t compute.

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