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‘I can do that.’
‘Would you?’
‘Of course. Where’s the photo?’
‘It’s on the main staircase,’ Abe said, and he could hear the clip of her heels as she walked on the marble floor of the entrance. ‘Are you on your way out?’
‘Why?’
‘I can hear heels.’
‘Yes, I’m on my way out.’ Naomi offered no more information than that.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Why?’
‘I’m just curious.’
He could remain so, Naomi decided. ‘I’m at the stairs.’
‘Okay, about a third of the way up there’s a photo of Ethan and me eating pizza...’
‘There’s one of the two of you on a yacht, and there’s one of you...’
She was looking through his youth.
There were load of formal shots and then she saw the one he had referred to the other night. Ethan was a tiny baby and Abe was sitting on his father’s knee, wearing a smile. Elizabeth was looking adoringly at the newborn she held.
And this was one picture, Naomi thought, that didn’t paint a thousand words—instead it lied.
Only not quite, because now that she knew Abe she could see the fixed smile and that it did not meet his eyes.
‘It’s halfway up the stairs,’ Abe said, trying to direct her, and Naomi dragged her eyes away and located the correct photo.
‘Got it.’
It was gorgeous. Abe was looking very serious but more relaxed than in the others, and Ethan was holding a huge slice of pizza. Jobe was squinting against the sun that shone in his eyes.
‘I’ll bring it over now,’ Naomi said.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind? I can wait outside if there’s somewhere you need to be...’ he fished shamelessly. ‘I mean if you have a reservation or you’re meeting someone.’
‘It’s really no problem,’ Naomi said, and carried on being evasive. She wasn’t bitchy in the least but she did manage a rather satisfied smile when she ended the call, because he clearly wanted to know what she was up to tonight.
Well, Abe Devereux could keep right on guessing.
Naomi was actually well ahead of time as she left the house. She’d allowed ages for the snow but, of course, New York was considerably more geared up for heavy snowfall than London, and her ride soon arrived.
As she climbed into the car, though, instead of asking to be taken to the private wing of the hospital, Naomi thought of what Abe had said about his father eating and him being rarely hungry, and she made a decision.
‘Could we take a little detour on the way to the hospital?’ Naomi asked. ‘I want to get a pretzel.’
‘From?’ the driver asked.
‘The first cart we see.’
It didn’t take long to find one and before long she arrived at Jobe’s door. For Abe it was like a breath of fresh air had swept in. Hospital visits, even the better ones, were hard going at times and she just breezed in wearing her red coat and her hair glossy, and for the first time he saw her made up. But it was her smile and her effortless way with his father that knocked him sideways.
