‘I’ll show Dad.’
‘I expect he’s already seen it,’ Braydon said, bemused. As they crossed the road, he wouldn’t let it go. ‘Come on, truth time. You’re perving on someone in there! Be honest.’ His laugh made Jack want to punch him, but as he entertained the thought Braydon snatched the magazine from his hands.
‘Give it back.’ Jack’s tone was deadly serious and it wasn’t long before Braydon did exactly as he was told. Braydon knew better than to mess with him, at least so directly.
Jack read on. The feature was about a local business, The Perfect Match Couture, and there looking back at him was a picture of the young woman he’d seen in Macy’s with Nicole. He read some more. She was the assistant to her boss, Bonnie, and he skimmed through the article trying to find more information, uncover where he knew her from, but all he drew were blanks.
‘Put that away, would you?’ They’d reached the restaurant and it was time to turn his mind from the mystery woman to lines of jewellery this client could stock, how they could retail The Diamond Touch products to reach more customers.
*
‘That went well,’ said Braydon when once again they were out on the Manhattan streets.
The snow that had begun to fall when they were in the restaurant had stopped, and in the gutter the telltale black slush splashed against car wheels. Frost still lingered on the tips of roofs and the cold went straight through Jack as he pulled his coat to him.
‘Let me see the advert again.’ Braydon held out a leather-gloved hand for the magazine tucked safely under Jack’s arm.
Jack handed it over, but Braydon didn’t turn to the advert for the company, he went straight for the page with the dog-eared corner. ‘I don’t get it,’ he claimed. ‘What’s so fascinating about this article?’ He read an excerpt out loud. ‘Bonnie Chesterfield successfully launched the business nine years ago … blah blah blah … assistant Evie … blah blah.’ He looked at Jack as they stopped at an intersection and waited behind the crowd of people crossing the road, pushed back when a yellow taxi mounted the curb and yelled out his window as though they were all in the wrong.
‘I was thinking we could pass on the poster and the flyers to them,’ Jack attempted.
‘It says here that she works out of home. What, you want her to plaster a poster in her front window?’ Even his laugh was annoying.
Almost back at The Diamond Touch, ready to take the side door leading straight up to the office, Braydon stopped. ‘Hang on a minute. This young woman, Evie, or whatever her name is.’ He looked up to the sky and smirked at his light bulb moment. ‘I knew I’d seen her before!’ He poked a chubby index finger at the page. ‘I’m right. It’s her!’
Jack stopped at the foot of the stairs that led up to the office. ‘It’s who?’
‘The woman from the streets. Three years ago I think it was, and your maid, hot-looking woman with curly hair—’
‘Housekeeper, not maid,’ Jack bristled. ‘And her name’s Nicole.’
‘Whatever. She was passing out food and who knows what else to this person.’ He stabbed his finger at the page again, at the woman in question. ‘Your father threw her off the property. Told her to get out and then fired Nicole’s sorry ass.’
It all clicked into place. The young woman had been using a different name back then, but Jack should’ve guessed who Evie was as soon as her eyes had locked with his in Macy’s. The night he’d first seen her had lingered in his memory for months afterwards as he tried in vain to contact Nicole. He’d even had dreams about what had happened and she’d featured, her eyes an intense blue as she’d looked up at him from beneath the blanket, terrified as she cowered on the patio outside his father’s townhouse. Her hair was blonder now than he remembered, and her face a picture of health, no longer diminished beneath the turmoil of being on the streets, but finally he had a name and an explanation for where he knew her from.
‘Well, well, well,’ said Braydon when they reached the top of the stairs. ‘It seems someone has come up a bit in the world. We need to show this to Kent.’
When Braydon shrugged off his coat, Jack took the opportunity to snatch the magazine back. ‘No, we don’t. And you don’t need to mention it either. What went down that night was a woman getting fired. It’s hardly something to be proud of.’
Braydon pulled a face as if to say what’s your problem? And then he stalked off, chuckling to himself, muttering under his breath about the girl, how she’d come out of the gutter. He was like a dog tugging at a trouser leg, unwilling to let go until he’d ripped it to shreds.
Jack went into his office, but it was only when he’d clicked the door shut behind him that his feeling of sympathy for this young woman turned to one of suspicion, anger even. He finally began to unravel the last three years in his mind and realised that this Evie was the reason Nicole had walked out of his life without so much as turning back. And it dawned on him that Evie had latched onto Nicole’s kindness, taken advantage of her kind nature and generosity to get her own life back on track. And now, who knew what liberties she was taking with the woman who’d been the closest he’d come to a mother figure in his life for a very long time.
When there was a knock at the office door, he turned to see his father.
‘Everything go well at lunch?’ Kent asked.
Jack gestured for him to sit as he breathed deeply trying to let his anger subside. He told his father all about the buyers, their approach, what they’d agreed. He didn’t mention Evie or the newspaper article. He hadn’t even said anything about bumping into Nicole last week, even though he’d told Nicole he would pass on her best to Kent. In truth, he wasn’t sure of what his father’s reaction would be. He and Nicole had been good friends for a long time, and the way Kent had acted towards Nicole three years ago had shocked Jack; it was so out of character.
‘A good outcome then,’ Kent concluded. ‘They’ll bring a lot of business our way. Great job.’
‘Let’s hope so. We have a good relationship with them.’
‘And the marketing campaign was genius.’
Jack’s gaze shot up. He’d been unable to truly look his father in the eye until now. Had Braydon shown him the magazine? ‘You saw it?’
‘I approved the mock-ups.’ He laughed. ‘Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.’ He stood to go, rubbed his shoulder and left his hand against his chest.
‘Something wrong?’ Jack watched his father’s face change, his usually relaxed features pulled tight.
‘A bit of indigestion, that’s all. I’ve got some antacids in my office.’ He turned to walk away, but Jack wasn’t convinced.
‘Dad?’ He shot to his father’s side.
Beads of sweat gathered on Kent’s forehead. He loosened his tie, undid his top button, grabbed hold of the door handle for balance but missed and stumbled to the floor.
‘Dad!’ Jack flung open the door, yelling to the first person walking past. ‘Call an ambulance, now!’
