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Dom stepped back as if he had been slapped.
‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’ he said, looking around her towards the door of the restaurant. ‘Is he in there?’
She kept deliberately silent, wanting to make him suffer.
‘Who is it?’ he asked, his wide mouth sneering. ‘Let me guess. Sean Asgill? I bet he comforted you after Nina’s party, didn’t he?’
She couldn’t help herself flush and he picked up on her guilt instantly.
‘I can’t say I’m surprised,’ he scoffed. ‘After all, you’re obsessed with the Asgills, aren’t you? You want their rich, glossy life because it’s the life you’ve always wanted for yourself.?
??
‘How dare you,’ she spat defensively.
He took a step closer towards her. At this distance he looked more wounded. ‘I didn’t think you’d be that gullible, to be seduced by him,’ he replied more evenly. ‘Asgill likes you because you helped him, that’s all. But let me tell you this, his friends won’t accept you, and his family won’t accept you, not as an equal. I don’t want you to feel like I’ve felt for the last three months. At first they think you’re funny, a novelty. Fresh blood for their group, perhaps, or some other motive. Tamara just used me to piss off her father, did you know that? She wanted to show him he couldn’t control her, so she married beneath her. And for a while that’s all fine, but then they tire of you. Then they close ranks and then you’re finished.’
Tess felt her lips dry. She didn’t like seeing Dom’s pain, but she hated the way he was saying she was the same as him, just some pawn for the upper classes.
‘I’m not with Sean,’ she said defiantly. ‘I’m not with anyone. I don’t need anybody, Dom. And especially not you.’
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded.
‘Everybody needs somebody, Tess,’ he said quietly, turning to leave. ‘I’m staying at the Mercer if you work that one out.’
She watched him walk down the street, disappearing into the shadows of SoHo. What did I come here for? she asked herself. The truth was she had come to New York to find the magic and romance that only this wonderful city could provide. So why did it feel like it was loneliest place in the world?
CHAPTER FIFTY–SIX
Alicia Wintrop lived in a red–brick town house on West Eleventh Street, so close to Tess’s own apartment that, if she stood on her roof terrace, they could probably have a conversation.
‘Can I help you?’ said Alicia, appearing in the open doorway. Even at nine thirty in the morning, she was perfectly dressed in West Village chic with her dark blue designer jeans, white, long–sleeve T–shirt, and vertiginous heels that looked more like bondage gear than casual footwear. Tess stood on the top step of the stoop, breathing the cold air deeply, desperately trying to shrug off the hangover from the night before’s drinking. ‘I’m Tess Garrett, a friend of Brooke Asgill and David Billington’s,’ said Tess, handing her an Asgill business card. ‘I wanted to talk to you about a private matter. Can I come in?’
Alicia frowned at the card then reluctantly beckoned her into the house.
‘Are you going to the wedding?’ asked Alicia, leading Tess into a sleek kitchen that smelt of flowers and fresh bread. Tess looked around enviously, doing a quick inventory of the ground floor. Painted in muted, elegant colours and dotted with impressive–looking modern art, the house had to be a ten–million–dollar property and yet Alicia Wintrop could be no more than thirty. How do these people do it? wondered Tess.
Alicia opened the fridge and poured two glasses of fresh juice.
‘Yes, I’ll be at the wedding,’ said Tess, taking her glass, ‘although I’m sort of working.’
‘So you work for Brooke?’
‘I’m her publicist.’
‘You must be busy,’ smiled Alicia, taking a sip of her juice.
Tess suppressed a sigh. There was no time for small talk.
‘Maybe my job has made me a cynic,’ she said, ‘but I don’t really believe in coincidences, do you Alicia?’
Alicia leaned against the granite worktop and shrugged.
‘I’ve never really thought about it,’ she replied guardedly.
‘Let me explain,’ said Tess evenly. ‘Brooke and David are extremely distressed about a story that appeared in the Washington Spy this week. A story that makes all sort of insinuations about Brooke’s family. A story that, to be frank, can cause a lot of damage.’
‘Really? I don’t read the Washington Spy,’ said Alicia, averting her green eyes.
