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‘Ah,’ Jake smiled. ‘Well, I am not one of those people. The thing is, I’m organising an engagement party for my brother and his fiancée. They’re very special to me and I want the event to be relaxed, happy and characterised by awesome food.’
‘Then in my opinion, these dishes here would be the best for the occasion,’ Henri replied, pulling plates from the far side of the table. ‘We will begin here and you tell me what you like. Together, we will create the perfect menu.’
‘Sounds good, Henri.’
The chef beamed and then, checking that none of his staff were listening, he leaned closer to Jake. ‘But you know what would make the tasting even better?’
Jake expected Henri to recommend a fine wine, expensive champagne or rich cognac. ‘What?’
Henri chuckled. ‘An ice-cold beer.’
‘A beer? Henri, I like your thinking.’
‘And that, Jake, is why we are going to become firm friends …’
‘Bro, this is too much.’ Ed shook his head as he read the list of dishes Jake had selected for the engagement party. ‘Rosie and I would’ve been happy with a bar somewhere …’
‘I know you would. But if it had been left to you guys to plan this party it wouldn’t have happened. Which is why you asked me. And which, Eduardo, is why you’re having what I decide you’re having.’
Ed whistled and leaned against the florist store counter. ‘Rosie will flip out when she sees this. I haven’t been able to take her to dinner for months; it’s like you’re bringing all the food we’ve missed to one party.’
‘But you think she’ll like it?’
‘Like it? She’s likely to forget she’s engaged to me and marry you instead.’ He put the menu on the counter and shook Jake’s hand with the handshake they had devised as teenagers: hands clasped low, switching to holding thumbs, finished with a fist-bump. ‘Thanks, man.’
‘Hey, my pleasure. Now all I need from you is a list of all the people you forgot in the initial guest list.’
Ed’s sheepish expression confirmed how well his brother knew him. ‘There were a couple I missed off …’
‘What’s this?’ Ed and Rosie’s multi-hued assistant picked up the list, her other hand protectively resting on her considerable baby bump.
‘It’s the menu for the engagement party on Friday, Marnie,’ Ed said.
‘Goat’s cheese? Brie? I can’t eat this, Ed!’
Ed stared at her. ‘Who says you’re invited?’
Marnie stuck out her chin. ‘Rosie did. And Jake. And you for that matter.’
‘When?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘Ah.’
‘Exactly. I can’t believe you wouldn’t consider the needs of your very important pregnant friend.’
Ed groaned. Jake jumped in to save his brother from the terrifying fury of Marnie Andersson’s pregnant indignation. ‘But we did, Marnie.’ He took the paper gently from her clenched fist and drew her attention to an extra set of dishes printed on the reverse. ‘These are specially designed with the specific needs of your pregnancy diet in mind. No unripened soft cheese, no egg yolk, no rare meat or fish, no alcohol.’
Marnie squeaked and hugged Jake as best she could around her belly. ‘You’re a darling! If I wasn’t with Zac …’
‘And almost eight months pregnant,’ Ed pointed out.
‘That wouldn’t matter.’ She shrugged off the suggestion. ‘He looks like Henry Cavill, only with blue eyes. The twins would love him.’ Happy, she waddled away to greet a customer who had just arrived.
Jake felt his cheeks burning. ‘Wow.’
‘She’s an original,’ Ed agreed. ‘And, thankfully for you, very in love with Zac, otherwise known as the Fit Guy.’
‘Can you tell I’m relieved?’ Jake’s heart was thudding nevertheless. Despite the growing acceptance of his new single status, he wasn’t quite ready to be propositioned by a heavily pregnant woman. He grinned at his brother, who handed him a mug of smoky coffee from Kowalski’s ancient-looking coffee machine. ‘Hasn’t Rosie retired that thing yet?’
Ed feigned offence. ‘Shh! That’s a very valuable member of our staff you’re abusing. Trashing Old F would be sacrilege. Besides, as long as he makes great coffee, who are we to judge how he looks?’
‘I hear you.’ He tasted the coffee and was again surprised by how excellent a brew could come from such a dubious coffee maker. ‘OK, what?’
Ed was looking at him intently and the instant sinking sensation Jake experienced could only herald one thing: he was about to receive a ‘concerned older brother chat’. He had learned it from their father – a past master at the serious Steinmann conversation switch – although Ed would vehemently deny it if Jake ever pointed this out to him.
‘Have you dealt with – it – yet?’
Jake folded his arms. ‘It?’
‘Come on, man, you know what I mean. The letter. From Jessica’s lawyer. That, I’m guessing from your expression, is still in the envelope it arrived in?’
Jake wished his brother didn’t know him quite as well as he did. Of course he hadn’t replied to the letter. He’d told himself he was too busy and had made sure the engagement party preparations demanded as much of his time as possible. Between that and his to-do list for establishing his new Manhattan practice, what time was there left to deal with lawyers who only wanted to fleece him anyway?
‘I’ll deal with it.’
‘Yeah, sure. When do you reckon that’ll be, hmm? Five years? Twenty? You need closure on this. As soon as you can.’
Irritation rising, Jake prepared to face him down. ‘Easy for you to say. Before you met Rosie you never had a relationship last long enough for lawyers to notice. Apart from the ones you were bedding, that is.’
‘Ouch. You cut me deep, bro.’
Ed was mocking him, but Jake didn’t care. He was so sick of the entire world feeling entitled to tell him how to live his life: Jessica and her lawyer, Jake’s father, Ed, his own lawyer Chuck – even the lady who sold him coffee at his new neighbourhood coffee place had somehow learned that he was going through a divorce. What right did any of them have to advise him, however well meaning they were? ‘Of course I’ll answer the damn letter.’
Ed held up his hands. ‘Hey, it’s your call. Just don’t leave it too long.’
In the cab heading back to Williamsburg, Jake was still fuming. He knew Ed was right, but the truth of it was that he didn’t want to start the process that would inevitably lead to the end of his marriage. Jessica might have made herself undeniably clear when she walked out on him, but while they were still legally bound to one another there remained the possibility that – just maybe – there was a chance they might be reconciled. Jake hated the stubborn hope within him and wished that he didn’t still yearn for Jess to reconsider her decision. But, he reasoned, you didn’t spend almost ten years of your life loving someone only to let go of them so easily, did you?
He stared out at the grey Manhattan afternoon; the vivid yellow of New York cabs on either side of him appearing like splashes of sunlight against the leaden palette of the passing city. I’ll sign the papers soon, he decided. But I’m not ready yet.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_f921e085-cd8c-57d2-af73-78caf3f33b73)
Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn (#ulink_f921e085-cd8c-57d2-af73-78caf3f33b73)
If it was possible to have a coronary induced by new culinary machinery then Russ O’Docherty was going to need a paramedic. Bea watched her colleague unwinding bubble-wrap from the bookstore’s new espresso machine with the kind of breathless reverence normally reserved for priceless works of art, expensive gifts and beautiful women.
‘She … is … stunning …’
‘How do you know it’s female?’
‘Are you kidding me? Look at her curves, the shine on her chrome, the delicate curve of her milk arm …’
Bea shuddered. ‘That’s just creepy now. It’s a machine, Russ, not Marilyn Monroe.’
Russ clicked his fingers and stared at Bea as though she had just shared the meaning of life with him. ‘That’s perfect! We’ll call her Marilyn.’
‘We will?’
‘Sure! Men will want to worship at her feet, women will want to hang out with her and bask in her beauty.’
‘O-K … Well, when you’re done worshipping her, perhaps you can help me clear the corner where her shrine will be? The carpenter will be here in an hour.’
Reluctantly, Russ left the gleaming object of his affections to begin packing boxes of books as Bea dismantled a shelving unit that was making way for the new coffee bar. He shook his head as they worked, casting wry glances at Bea. And, while it pained her to admit it, Bea loved him for it. This was the way things had always been between them since the day they first met in a mutual friend’s dorm at Columbia. They had gone under the auspices of studying for a group project, but somebody had found a bottle of vodka and the gathering had quickly descended into hook-ups and hilarity. Attempting to avoid the advances of a particularly persistent English Lit major, Bea had headed for Russ, who looked like the only other person in the room who was as uncomfortable as she felt. Acting quickly upon seeing her predicament, Russ pulled her to him for a hugely theatrical stage kiss, sending her disappointed would-be suitor sulking away. When Bea recovered from the shock of his sudden embrace they struck up a conversation, and Bea discovered a kindred spirit with a wicked sense of humour whom she quickly felt an affinity with.
They had once tried to recreate the fake kiss for real, not long after their graduation when, both despondent after recent break-ups, they ended up drowning their sorrows in beer and cheap takeaway pizza at Bea’s apartment. It was a spontaneous moment that very nearly progressed further than either of them was prepared for, but before clothes were removed, Russ had pulled away. Bea had understood completely – the sudden awkwardness of their kiss sobering her – and they had never spoken of it since. Russ relied on Bea to be his closest friend and Bea felt the same. Their relationship represented the nearest thing to a successful partnership that either of them had experienced and therefore was not something they were willing to risk.
‘Look at this,’ Bea said, keen to take her mind off the sudden recollection of their historic drunken clinch. She held up a slightly faded hardback, its cover protected with the kind of plastic sleeve usually seen in libraries.
Her colleague’s expression instantly softened. ‘Oh, hello old friend! I didn’t realise Sid was still with us.’
Bea gave the cover an affectionate pat. ‘I think HRB would collapse if Sid ever left.’
Motorcycling For Life by Sid ‘Wolfman’ Wolkevic was the very first book Bea had unpacked as she and Russ had prepared to open their store, just over three years ago. At the time it had been the cause of their first argument in Hudson River Books, as neither of them would admit to ordering the book from the distributor. Since then, the book had periodically appeared on different shelves around the bookstore and, consequently, had become something of a phenomenon.
‘We should put him somewhere prominent,’ Russ suggested. ‘Or make him a one-off sale item. See if we can re-home him at last.’
Bea stared at her friend. ‘Or maybe we could just hide him on a new shelf and see if he finds his way to another one?’
‘You don’t want to let Sid leave, do you?’ Russ grinned, knowing he was right.
Bea hugged the book. There was no use denying the fact. ‘He’s like one of the family now. I’m not sure how I’d feel if someone tried to buy him.’
‘So take him home.’
‘But he lives here.’ Bea knew she was being sentimental, but Motorcycling for Life had become as much a part of the fixtures of Hudson River Books as the exposed brick walls, worn American oak floorboards or brushed steel lamps that hung from the high ceiling. Knowing that there was one book in their stock that never changed was oddly comforting, as if demonstrating to Bea that the hope and ambition with which she and Russ had founded the bookstore was unchanged too.
‘It’s one of the countless things I love about you,’ Russ replied. ‘Fine, you find Sid a new hiding place and I won’t look. That way his legacy will be preserved.’
‘Thank you.’ She checked her watch. ‘How do you feel about us closing a little early this evening? Once the carpenter has built the bar the bookstore will probably be full of sawdust anyway.’
Russ put the pile of books he was sorting into a box and folded his arms. ‘Did you hear that?’
‘Hear what?’
‘I swear the tectonic plates beneath us shifted.’
‘Come on, it’s not that unusual for us to close early.’
‘Hello? This is so unusual the Discovery Channel is commissioning a show on it. May I ask why?’
Bea groaned. ‘Celia and Stewart have invited me to a party this evening, that’s all. Is that a problem?’
Russ shook his head, but was still looking at her as if she had just grown another nose. ‘No problem at all. I have a gig later anyway. I could use the time to work on my material. I was kinda hoping you’d come. You’ve been to every other one. You’re my one-woman receptive crowd, after all.’
Bea instantly felt like the worst friend in the world. Since Russ had embarked on his part-time onslaught on the local comedy club circuit, he had encountered more than one hostile crowd and, even though Bea was pretty sure she could recite his entire routine in her sleep, she had made a point of going to his stand-up gigs as often as she could. ‘I’m sorry, Russ, I didn’t know. Celia suggested it a few days ago and I think going somewhere different might be good for me.’
‘Go. It’ll do you good. Just – just don’t go looking for someone to replace Otis yet, OK?’
Bea couldn’t believe what Russ had said. Had he listened to nothing during their many conversations about her new single status that week? Did he honestly think she would dash into another relationship when the dust was still clearing after the collapse of her last?
‘I am going to get out of my apartment and try to live a little,’ she stated, aware of the defensiveness in her reply. ‘I have no intention of replacing anyone.’
‘Hell, Bea …’
Realising his mistake, Russ moved towards her but Bea, rattled by his obvious loyalty to Otis and inference that she couldn’t function without a boyfriend, turned and headed towards the back stairs which led to the office above the bookstore. She thought he might follow her but was relieved to see him return to the half-packed boxes as she left the shop floor.
She was still annoyed three hours later as she stood in her bedroom deciding what to wear for the party. Russ had apologised in all but words when she had finally rejoined him in the store, but it irked her that he could know her so well yet understand this aspect of her life so little. She held up a black skater dress with a red patent belt. Otis had never really liked it; although the few times she’d worn the dress her other friends had complimented her on it. That was enough of a reason to choose it, she decided. Stuff Otis. Tonight was about her embarking on the next phase of her life – where relationships didn’t cloud the issue and she could be true to herself. It would be good to be selfish for a change. Finding a pair of red patent heels, she nodded at her reflection in the bedroom mirror.
Tonight is all about Bea James, she told herself. Get ready for me, New York!
CHAPTER TWELVE (#ulink_186a5a25-aea2-5366-99bf-a8bfed1ac23d)
Private loft apartment, Upper West Side (#ulink_186a5a25-aea2-5366-99bf-a8bfed1ac23d)
They were all couples.
Why hadn’t he noticed this when he was sending out the eighty invitations for the party? Jake mentally kicked himself for being so naïve. Of course they would all be couples! People their age generally were. He and Jessica had fitted the demographic until recently and all their friends in San Francisco were either remarrying, having kids or just loved-up.
As Chez Henri’s polished waiting staff buzzed about the beautiful loft apartment, Jake watched each new couple arrive. The elegant champagne flutes they were furnished with at the door seemed to underline their quiet satisfaction with their situation in life. And each one reminded Jake that he could no longer be counted among their ranks.
He shook his irritation away. It would be fine. He was the party organiser and, as such, could legitimately busy himself with anything that looked like it could be part of his job. The evening would pass quickly, he could give Rosie and Ed the celebration they both deserved and everyone would be happy. He remembered countless conversations with his clients over the years about facing their fears head-on: The longer you hide from what you fear, the more seemingly insurmountable it becomes … When you put yourself in challenging situations, you find you have what you need to cope within you … He knew he was doing the right thing by being here. Jess was gone and he shouldn’t give up his life simply because she wasn’t a part of it any more.
A polite burst of applause drew his attention back to the apartment’s entrance lobby and Jake smiled as Rosie and Ed entered. He was struck by the way his brother looked at Rosie, a regard magnified by the company around them. Jake momentarily forgot his own battles, filled with deep love for the beautiful couple walking towards him.
‘This is amazing, Jake.’ Rosie kissed his cheek and Jake drew her into a hug. ‘It’s so lovely of you to do this for us.’
‘It’s my pleasure. And you look incredible, Ms Duncan.’ Jake was struck by how a simple red silk strapless dress was transformed on his soon-to-be sister-in-law, the vivid material contrasting with Rosie’s pale English rose skin, dark wavy hair and deep chocolate eyes. She was radiant. No wonder Ed looked like the kid that got all the candy from Santa Claus.
Rosie giggled and gave a little twirl. ‘I’m glad you approve.’
‘Hey, I’m pretty impressive too,’ Ed said, running a hand down his pale blue shirt. ‘Rosie says it brings out the colour of my eyes, you know.’
Jake laughed. ‘You look great, bro. Now, make yourselves at home, eat, drink and be happily engaged. If you want to make a speech I’d suggest waiting till nine when most people have arrived.’
He watched the happy couple wander away and smiled to himself as they received the warm congratulations of their friends. Many people in the room tonight knew what both Ed and Rosie had travelled through in their lives before they found each other. Consequently, the atmosphere in the party was one of genuine support and celebration.
There are worse places I could be tonight, Jake thought. Watching two of his most favourite people in the world being loved by so many guests was far from a chore.
