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‘Then why not support me? Does our friendship mean so little to you?’
‘This isn’t about us, Bea, so don’t make out like I don’t support you.’ Russ sighed and took off his black-rimmed glasses to wipe the rain-splattered lenses on the bottom of his vintage rock T-shirt. ‘I’ve supported you for as long as we’ve known each other. You know I have. Sure, I think Otis was out of line when he let you down in front of your family. And yes, I agree, this isn’t the first time you’ve been disappointed. I told him he’s a Class A jerk for not putting you first, actually – not that you’ll believe me. I warned him he’d lose you if he didn’t straighten up his act. But above that, I can’t do a thing to change who he is or any of the decisions he makes.’
Bea stared at him, hating Russ for his logical view of life. It had always been his secret weapon. The worst of it was, it made sense. He wasn’t to blame for Otis’ bad decisions and he was perfectly entitled to be friends with whomever he wanted.
‘It would just be nice to have you on my side,’ she replied, her voice small and vulnerable as she spoke.
‘I don’t take sides, Bea. But I’m not a heartless individual either. You know I care about you and I want you to be happy. Heaven knows you deserve it. Take some time out. Figure out what it is you want and whether Otis can provide it or not. In the meantime, I’m your friend and I’m here for you. OK?’
‘OK.’
‘Good.’ He popped his glasses back on. ‘And the rain must’ve made me psychic because I bought you a peppermint mocha.’ He held out a cup, a wry smile returning. ‘Did I make the right choice?’
There was no point arguing any more. And the coffee smelled good. Still convinced she and Otis were over, Bea nodded at Russ. ‘You did good.’
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_f21634e6-2f86-56ab-afb9-142a14d49b5f)
Kowalski’s, corner of West 68th and Columbus, Upper West Side (#ulink_f21634e6-2f86-56ab-afb9-142a14d49b5f)
The small silver bell chimed out over his head as Jake walked into his soon-to-be sister-in-law’s florist shop in the pleasantly chic neighbourhood in the Upper West Side. A rush of floral fragrance assaulted his senses from the rainbow-hued display in galvanised steel buckets. Jake loved it here – and completely understood why his brother had chosen to give his skills to the neighbourhood florists’ instead of the high-tech, faceless floral boutiques in New York City. There was a peace about the little store that few other shops in Manhattan had, a sense of timelessness that made even the busiest customer linger.
A pretty, heavily pregnant young woman with shocking pink streaks in her hair screamed from behind the counter and hurried towards him.
‘Jake! Oh, it’s so good to see you, honey!’ Hugging him with her large belly was a challenge but she made an enthusiastic attempt at it.
He laughed, despite being almost knocked off his feet by Rosie’s kooky assistant. ‘Great to see you, Marnie. And look at you! How long till D-Day?’
She pulled a face. ‘Six weeks. I’m kinda hoping it’ll be earlier but my obstetrician told me it might be a week over.’ She rubbed her back. ‘I feel like I’m carrying a moose, not a couple of babies. I blame Zac’s quarterback genes. But anyway, how are you?’
Jake ignored the sinking feeling when he saw Marnie’s smile morph into concern. It was barely a month since his separation from Jessica had become public knowledge and already he dreaded receiving the identical expression from everyone he met. He knew their concern was well meant, but it still made him wince. It was as if somehow the fact his wife had chosen to live her life without him was cause for the whole world to pity him, as if he was less of a man.
‘I’m good,’ he replied, his voice already bearing the singsong notes of someone who really, really didn’t want to discuss it any more. ‘I’m here to rescue your boss from the whining Steinmann charm of my brother.’
Marnie grinned. ‘Good call. Any longer and there might not have been a wedding at all.’ Throwing her head back, she yelled, ‘Ed!Jake’s here!’
‘Thank goodness for that!’ a familiar voice replied and moments later the welcome smile of Rosie Duncan lit up the store as she walked in from the workroom. With her dark eyes, dark brown hair and pale English rose complexion, Rosie was striking to look at, even though her demeanour revealed how little she realised it.
‘Hey sis-in-law-to-be,’ Jake grinned, dispensing with the tradition of respectable cheek kisses and scooping her into a huge embrace instead. ‘Boy, am I glad to see you.’
‘Tough day?’ she asked, the smile not leaving her face, for which Jake was unspeakably grateful.
‘As much as ever,’ he replied, happy that, with Rosie at least, this was sufficient to draw a line under the subject.
‘And now it’s going to get tougher having to spend time with the love of my life,’ she laughed. ‘Are you sure you can handle my fiancé?’
‘Leave him with me. There’s nothing Ed can throw at me I haven’t seen before. I used to be his wing-man back in his dating days – and believe me, once you’ve pulled your brother from a New York bar brawl pretty much anything else is mundane.’
‘You are a godsend, Jake Steinmann,’ Rosie laughed, squeezing his hand. ‘He’s been driving us insane all day.’
‘I thought I knew how grouchy he could be after all these years working with him, but he’s reached new depths of pessimism,’ Marnie agreed.
‘Sounds like my brother. Is he ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ Ed replied, striding into the store and planting a kiss on Rosie’s head. ‘Thanks so much for the glowing summation of my current state of mind there, girls.’
‘We’re only saying what we see,’ Rosie smiled up at him – and Jake felt his heart tug as he saw the way she looked at his brother. Had Jessica ever looked at him that way? He thought she had, yet the pain of recent events clouded his memories. But Ed deserved to be happy, he reminded himself. One happy Steinmann had to be a good thing for the world …
‘Hmm. Well, I’ll let you off this time, Ms Duncan.’
‘Excellent. You do that. And don’t depress your brother.’ She jabbed a finger into Ed’s chest, before turning to Jake. ‘If he gets too much, just shove him in a cab and send him back, OK?’
Jake chuckled. ‘Deal.’
The bar Ed had chosen was one Jake vaguely remembered visiting before – probably to watch a baseball game with his brother before Jessica had swept into his life and taken him to the other side of America. It felt odd to be thinking of things he had done pre-Jess, especially as all of his recent thoughts had been consumed with memories of their marriage. But it was a positive change, he decided. And something positive in his life was way overdue.
They settled at a booth and ordered beer. Even though it was early, Jake was glad of the cold buzz the bottle gave him. A little bit reckless, drinking in the daytime, he reasoned. Jessica would not have been impressed …
‘You literally saved my life,’ Ed grinned, clinking the neck of his beer bottle with Jake’s. ‘I feel bad leaving Rosie in charge of wrangling wedding guests but, trust me, she’s a better man than me for the job.’
‘You’re lucky, you know,’ Jake replied, taking another swig of beer. ‘Rosie’s a wonderful woman.’
‘She is.’ Ed seemed to glow in the darkened bar booth. ‘I have to pinch myself every day. I know how lucky I am.’
‘I’m happy for you. And, hey, I’m sorry I wasn’t in town for your engagement party, man. There seems to have been a lot happening in New York that I missed.’
Ed frowned. ‘What engagement party?’
‘Yours and Rosie’s?’ Jake stared at his brother. ‘Don’t tell me you guys didn’t have an engagement party?’
‘No, we didn’t. We got engaged and then had a string of big wedding orders at Kowalski’s so we – didn’t get round to it.’
Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Surely the momentous event of Rosie and Ed agreeing to marry each other should be marked? He thought back to the lavish engagement party he and Jessica had enjoyed in an exclusive New York club – so expensive that it rivalled the wedding for extravagance. Back then it seemed the most natural thing to do. The expense was an expression of the enormous impact Jessica’s acceptance of his proposal had on his life; to spend any less wouldn’t have done their engagement justice.
‘And Rosie was OK with that?’
Ed shrugged. ‘It was her idea.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘Then you clearly don’t know my fiancée very well. Rosie’s practical. She didn’t want the hassle of organising a party when we were flat out at Kowalski’s.’
Jessica would never have stood for that. From the earliest days of their relationship Jake had learned that everything his partner did was designed to be seen by others. One hundred and fifty guests to the exclusive engagement party; two hundred guests to their wedding at her parents’ house overlooking beautiful Half Moon Bay; and no expense spared at either. Both events had been reported in the society pages, the beautiful people of New York and California gathered in black tie and ball gowns for the eager lenses of the national press. Of course Rosie was different, but Jake still felt a pang of sadness that she had been denied the opportunity to celebrate her engagement.
‘I have an idea,’ he said, even as it was still forming in his mind.
‘Oh?’
‘Let me throw you guys a party. Consider it my belated engagement gift.’
‘I couldn’t ask you to do that, man.’
The more he considered it, the more Jake believed his idea to be a great one. ‘I’m serious, Ed. Let me do this for you. You and Rosie have been rocks for me lately. I just want to repay your kindness. What do you say?’
Surprised, Ed hugged his brother. ‘Yes, then. Thanks, bro.’
Jake smiled as they pulled apart. It was a brilliant idea: allowing him to express his deep gratitude for the support he’d received from Rosie and Ed while also giving him something completely non-Jessica-related to focus on. Besides, it had been a while since he had felt like celebrating. This could be just what the doctor ordered.
You’re a genius, Jake Steinmann, he congratulated himself. This party is the start of something new …
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_faadd0f9-f74c-5fa5-b4db-765406c856b2)
Celia and Stewart’s apartment, 91st Street Upper West Side (#ulink_faadd0f9-f74c-5fa5-b4db-765406c856b2)
Bea stepped out of the yellow cab and gazed up at the bay windows of the traditional New York brownstone building. She loved this street and had taken every opportunity to visit since her brother Stewart had moved in here with his girlfriend Celia. The leafy boughs of London Plane trees rustled in the light breeze above her head and gave the street an air of serenity and calm, despite the constant buzz of Manhattan traffic at the end of the block. It seemed a world away from Brooklyn and the perfect place for Bea after the events of the day. Right now, she needed familiarity and comfort – and her brother was the one who could provide it.
‘Bea! Come on up,’ Stewart’s voice crackled through the door intercom and Bea headed inside the elegant brownstone. He was waiting for her as she reached his floor, leaning casually against the doorframe of his apartment. ‘Coffee’s on and I have muffins from M&H Bakers.’
‘Sounds wonderful,’ Bea smiled, taking off her coat and walking inside. The apartment was light and airy, bearing more evidence of her brother’s taste since he and Celia had recently redecorated. In addition to the floor-to-ceiling bookcases that separated the living room from the dining area, a collection of Stewart’s beloved gadgets, games consoles and gym equipment had been assigned a place near the hallway that led to the bedrooms. True to form, his things were arranged haphazardly, more than a little at odds with the ordered regularity of Celia’s belongings. But, much like their unconventional relationship, it worked perfectly.
Bea and Stewart settled on chairs by the table in the large bay window and Bea helped herself to a triple chocolate muffin, the scent of freshly brewed coffee making her mouth water.
‘Have you eaten lately?’ Stewart asked, inadvertently sounding like their mother.
‘Not much,’ Bea replied through mouthfuls of chocolate sponge. Perhaps it was being so far away from Brooklyn – and Otis – but her recently absent appetite had made a sudden return. She laughed when she saw her brother’s amusement. ‘It must be the magic of M&H.’
‘Now, that I can’t argue with. Seriously, Bea, how are you doing? You left so quickly after the meal the other night.’
Bea felt her heart sink. ‘Well, I didn’t want to hang around. Not with Aunt Ruby’s loud damnations ringing in my ears. Public humiliation isn’t something you want to prolong.’
‘You weren’t humiliated, sis. Your boyfriend on the other hand …’
‘He’s not my boyfriend.’ Bea’s sudden admission made her appetite evaporate once more. ‘Not any more.’
Stewart took a few moments to process this. ‘Really? Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Only you’ve said this before and …’
‘It’s definite this time. I’m done with Otis and his broken promises. I just can’t do it any more.’ She shook her head. ‘Russ thinks I’m being hasty, of course. He’s convinced we’re destined for each other. But he should try dating Otis. I’m tired of the stupid roundabout of my love life, Stew. I’ve decided to get off it for good.’
‘Wow.’
‘I know.’
Stewart refilled their coffee mugs. ‘So what’s the plan now?’
‘Focus on the things in my life that work. Russ is talking about putting a coffee bar into the bookshop and I have lots of ideas for promotions and evening events. Also, I’m thinking of looking for a bigger apartment.’
‘Moving uptown at last, eh?’
Bea laughed. ‘No fear. It’s Brooklyn all the way, baby! I like where I live. I’d just like somewhere with a bit more room.’
‘It all sounds good. But you haven’t answered my question, Bea: how are you really?’
Bea thought back to the night of the doomed family meal – the uniform disappointment of her gathered family members, the sympathy in their expressions that she really didn’t need to see, and the crushing realisation that, once again, Otis had let her down. How was she meant to be after an experience like that?
‘It was mortifying,’ she confessed, staring into the dark depths of her coffee. ‘A whole history of happy-ever-afters around the table and I couldn’t even get my boyfriend to keep a promise he’d made to all of them. It made me feel like a failure, through no fault of my own. And more than anything else, it made me realise that I’m the exception in the James family: I’m destined not to find a decent relationship.’
‘Bea …’
‘I mean it, Stew. Let’s face it, by the law of averages it had to happen to someone eventually. It would be impossible to have so many generations of childhood sweetheart success stories without one blip. That’s just what I am. A blip.’
Her brother’s laugh was gentle but still stung. ‘You’re being melodramatic. This is one relationship, Bea. There’s no unwritten rule that every member of the James family has to find true love at their first attempt. If that were true, I’d have been sunk years ago. The point is we all get there in the end. Otis isn’t The One: that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there who might be.’
Bea wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t see anything beyond the possibility of years of disappointment stretching into the future. Frankly, there were other things she would rather expend her energies on. Things that had at least a hope of success attached to them.
‘I don’t know if I can be bothered to look for them any more.’
Stewart took his sister’s hand across the table. ‘Then stop looking for now. You need to be good to yourself, sis. I hate seeing you down.’
‘Am I missing something good?’ The door to the apartment slammed and Bea looked up to see the flamboyant figure of her brother’s partner approaching.
‘Hi Celia,’ she smiled, standing to receive a hug.
‘Honey, how are you? I was so worried after that awful dinner.’ She placed her hand on Bea’s forehead as if expecting to find a raging temperature. ‘Are you well?’
‘She’s fine,’ Stewart laughed, rising to fetch another mug from the kitchen. ‘Put my sister down before you strangle her.’
Celia pulled up a chair and sat beside Bea. ‘The man is an oaf, Bea darling! He’s not worthy of you. I hope you tore a strip off him when he finally showed his face.’
‘I did more than that,’ Bea replied, secretly touched by Celia’s overblown concern. ‘I told him we were over.’
Celia’s eyebrows shot heavenwards. ‘Oh? Well, I’m proud of you, honey! Men like that have to learn that women aren’t doormats to be abandoned at a moment’s notice.’
‘Can you abandon a doormat?’ Stewart grinned at Bea, but Celia wasn’t listening. For a full five minutes she launched a scathing attack on Otis Greene’s lack of manhood, complete rudeness and inability to be the man Bea needed him to be.
‘You’re better off without him. Why waste your life on a loser?’
Why indeed, Bea smiled to herself. ‘Enough about that, anyway. How’s everything with your book?’
Celia heaved a dramatic sigh as Stewart kissed the top of her head, placing a fresh mug of coffee in her hands. ‘Exhausting. But I think we’re almost there. My publisher insists on making last-minute changes to my manuscript that make no grammatical sense whatsoever – I swear they think I don’t know how to write. I’m only a senior New York Times columnist for heaven’s sake. What the hell do I know?’
‘When do you publish?’
‘In a month. Of course, I’ll be glad when it’s out on the shelves, but I’m not convinced I’d do it again. Still, if it worked for Nora Ephron, I have to hope it’ll work for me.’
Bea decided to ask the question she had been mulling over for a few weeks. If Celia agreed, it would be the first major event Hudson River Books had ever held – and could be the start of a whole new chapter in the bookshop’s success. If not, it was back to the drawing board.
