I’ll Take New York. Miranda Dickinson

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СКАЧАТЬ did his best to return to the matter at hand; thinking about last night coupled with his hangover wasn’t helping him this morning. ‘Forgive me; it’s been a busy morning. I like the office, so I’ll take it.’

      Eugene Howell-Brown forgot his passive-aggressive consternation and instantly sprang into action. ‘Wonderful! You will not regret this decision, Dr Steinmann. Now all I need from you are a couple of signatures and I’ll arrange for you to have the keys …’

      Out on the too-bright sidewalk outside, Jake paused to take a breath. He needed to focus, to work his way through the list of tasks he had assigned himself today. There were recruiters to meet, office furniture and décor to choose and a million and one other jobs to attend to. But right now, they could wait. Before any of it could happen, Jake needed coffee.

      In the sanctuary of a warmly lit coffee house nearby, he ordered an enormous black coffee. As he found a table hidden from the hubbub of other customers, his phone rang.

      ‘You haven’t called me. And you said you would.’

      Jake smiled as the soothing voice of his former PA warmed his ear. ‘What can I tell you, Pam? I’m a disgrace.’

      ‘I was worried about you. You knew I would be. So? How’s life in the City That Sneers At You?’

      ‘And New York sends its love right back at you.’

      ‘Be serious.’

      ‘It’s good. A little weird to be back, but I haven’t been ridden out of town yet.’ Jake took a long sip of coffee and closed his eyes. ‘Actually, I just signed the lease on a new office building.’

      ‘Where?’

      ‘Just off Broadway. Near the Lincoln Center. It’s a good space: I think you’d approve.’

      Pam’s snort made Jake grin. It was no secret what she thought of the East Coast in general and Manhattan specifically. In her college days she had interned at a law firm in New York for two months while staying with her aunt and the experience had apparently traumatised her for life. She had often said that the only native New Yorker she had ever liked was Jake. Coming from a woman as set in her opinions as Pam, this was the ultimate compliment.

      Jake decided to move to safer territory. ‘How’s the new job? Is your new employer as devastatingly handsome as I am?’

      Now it was Pam’s turn to laugh. ‘He’s tidier. And pays me more. But no, he isn’t a patch on you. You’re very hard to replace, Dr Steinmann.’

      ‘Oh, if only that were true.’ He didn’t mean to say it out loud; but of all the people who could have heard it, Pam understood more than most.

      ‘Tell me she hasn’t—’

      ‘Afraid so. I’ve had the papers for a week.’

      ‘And you’re going to sign them?’

      ‘I don’t know. I haven’t signed them yet. I will, I guess, just not yet.’

      ‘That woman doesn’t deserve you,’ Pam retorted. ‘I’m sorry, Jake, but you don’t pay my salary any more so I can say it. You’re better off without her. Sign the papers and get on with your life.’

      Her forthrightness took Jake aback – in all the time they had worked together Pam had been very guarded in her comments on his private life, even though he often guessed what her opinions were. ‘You think?’

      ‘I do. In fact, I think it’s the only way. You talk to your clients about closure all the time: I’ve heard you. You can’t make her change her mind. But you can change your response to it.’

      Jake laughed despite the sinking feeling Pam’s words caused. ‘Pam Lomas, are you psychoanalysing me?’

      ‘Maybe I am, Doctor. Maybe you need to hear it. Look, I can’t tell you what to do. I just care about you and I know you’re not happy. Ultimately it’s up to you how you move on. But you need to move on …’

      When the call ended, Jake stared into the dark depths of his filter coffee. He hadn’t expected to hear it from his former employee, but Pam was right: he needed to take control of the situation. If only he’d reached this conclusion last night, when the possibility to take a new step had presented itself …

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       Beads & Beans craft and coffee store, Brooklyn

      ‘So, let me get this straight: you spent all night talking to a cute guy and you didn’t ask for his number?’

      The look on Imelda Coulson’s face said it all. Bea groaned as her friend observed her from the top step of a rickety stepladder, a cluster of knitted clouds in her hand.

      ‘Of course I didn’t,’ Bea replied. ‘And I never said he was cute! It was just nice to meet somebody who understood my point of view.’

      Imelda snorted and began to hang the clouds from small hooks in the ceiling. ‘A point of view that you’re hiding behind.’

      ‘I’m not hiding …’

      ‘Yes, you are. Admit it, honey: if Otis hadn’t stood you up that night you’d still be with him and you’d still be a firm believer in relationships.’

      The mention of Otis made Bea wince. She might have succeeded in telling everyone else she didn’t miss him but she had a long way to go to convince herself. She didn’t want to feel this way. She wanted to feel as happy being single as she had spent many hours telling Russ, her parents and Imelda she was. But she had invested five years of her life in building something with Otis. It was unrealistic to think she could walk away from that unscathed.

      ‘That’s immaterial. Otis did stand me up and it was the last straw. He isn’t going to change and I’m not prepared to put my life on hold waiting for a miracle.’

      ‘But you’re still in love with him?’ Imelda pulled no punches and Bea was winded by the direct question.

      ‘Maybe I am. Or maybe it’s been slipping away from me for months, only I wasn’t prepared to notice.’ She sighed and moved to the side as Imelda descended the steps. ‘There’s no point trying to work that one out. I just want to focus on me for a change. Is that so wrong?’

      Imelda’s expression softened and she put her hand on Bea’s shoulder. ‘Of course it’s not wrong. I just want you to be happy.’

      ‘So do I. That’s why I want to find out how to do that by myself.’

      ‘O-K …’ Imelda shrugged, about as satisfied with Bea’s answer as Bea was. ‘How’s Russ been?’

      That was a good question. Russ had veered between insisting that all Bea needed was time to forgive his best friend and standing staunchly alongside her in her decision. At least he seemed to have finally got the message that Bea didn’t want to talk about it СКАЧАТЬ