Chapter Eleven
Darcy
Eight days until Christmas
Darcy didn’t really have time for a shopping expedition, but she had nothing suitable for a night at The Plaza in her wardrobe either, so later today she was meeting Isabella for project find-a-dress. For now, she had to get on with looking after the Inn. She could see exactly how Sofia was able to neglect advertising and the bigger picture when there were so many little things to do.
The streets were icy every morning it seemed and Darcy’s day began by using a shovel to scrape the worst off the brownstone stoop, before using a de-icing product. She spent no end of time sweeping the hallway. Another guest had checked in last night and, although only staying for two nights, had required a lot of the extras, which of course meant an extra weight on the already toppling workload. This guest wanted an evening meal, drinks early evening, a taxi arranged, three days’ worth of clothes washed and pressed, a full breakfast this morning and directions to a few landmarks before moving on to the next destination.
Darcy had spent a while yesterday preparing for the PowerPoint presentation for when Sofia returned. She tried to pre-empt likely questions and although she had no idea of her role once Sofia was back, she didn’t mind. This was what she enjoyed: the responsibility, the tantalising smell of success under her control. It felt good too. She loved the air of independence she felt, even as she continued with the mundane chores of cleaning down some of the woodwork in the hallway that had gathered dust. She vacuumed the big rug in front of the fire. She polished the mirror above the mantelpiece, she cleared the kitchen when Rupert had to rush off, she turned down beds, she replenished towels and she restocked cupboards and refrigerators in each apartment.
Darcy longed to get out her knitting needles and lose herself in the task for an hour, but she had no time for that and once she’d had lunch it was time to meet Isabella and sort out something to wear. At least being so busy had stopped her stressing about what to say to Myles when she next saw him, or how conscious she was that she was choosing a dress to wear on a date with him. If she let herself think about it too much she’d panic. What if she was a big dull dud and had no conversation skills in front of the people he worked with? Running an inn and welcoming guests was one thing, but the corporate world was another entirely, especially at The Plaza’s Grand Ballroom.
Isabella was waiting on the street corner that afternoon, puffing out white circles into the air as though she was a little kid, when Darcy arrived to meet her on Fifth Avenue.
‘You ready to do this?’ Isabella certainly seemed raring to go. ‘How long have we got?’
‘You mean how long have I got? I’m assuming you have all day.’
‘Yep, it’s a Saturday and I’m as free as a bird.’
‘I’ve got between two and three hours. I’ve got my cell phone in case anyone at the Inn needs me, but I did most of the chores this morning, everything else will have to wait.’
‘That’s the spirit. This is your first date in a long time. It’s important. And it’ll be good to see you in a nice dress, see a bit of flesh. You’re always so done up in those suits.’ She hooked an arm through Darcy’s.
‘Hey, I’ve got one of those suits on now. Under my coat.’
‘And you look fabulous in them, but they’re work suits; this is a totally different outfit we’re about to shop for.’
As they walked she told Darcy, ‘I dropped the gifts with Cleo in Inglenook Falls.’
‘Thanks so much for doing that. How is she? How’s Dylan?’
‘I didn’t see Dylan but Cleo is really well. She said to tell you that you must make it to the markets next year because she’s bagged an even bigger stall.’
‘Already? That’s great. The knitting business must be booming. Which is more than can be said for my own knitting project.’
‘Not managed to finish that sweater yet?’
‘Not unless Gabriella wants her son dressed in something that currently looks more like a scarf.’
‘You’ll finish it, you just have other priorities right now.’
‘Talking of which…’ She nodded to the welcoming front doors of Saks Fifth Avenue. ‘It’s time to get started.’
Inside, the warmth of the store a welcome relief, Isabella was already taking out dresses and assessing them. ‘What look are you going for?’
‘I think classic is the way to go.’ Darcy found a black dress, knee-length, plain. ‘This sort of thing. It’s simple, elegant—’
‘Boring.’
‘Isabella.’ She put the dress back, deflated.
‘I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make this miserable for you, but you need to think outside the square. That dress was nice, but you could’ve worn it for work – am I right?’
Darcy thought about it. ‘Then it’ll be worth spending the money.’
‘Darcy, sometimes I want to shake you. This is shopping, for you, for an occasion that is special.’
‘It’s a first date. I’m not marrying the guy.’
‘You’re going to The Plaza! To a function in the Grand Ballroom!’
Darcy had texted Isabella the second she knew more details of where Myles wanted to take her. ‘Well I don’t want anything too showy. I like understated.’
Darcy tried on five dresses, but none appealed. They ended up in the shoe department but found nothing there either. They left the big department store and zigzagged in and out of clothing stores, shoe emporiums, designer stores where either the price tag dazzled them or the lack of a price tag made them casually leave knowing it would be way too expensive. Darcy had given Isabella her budget from the start, and it was generous but not ridiculous.
Isabella dragged her into another designer boutique, giggling away at the price tickets. ‘These are crazy prices,’ she whispered.
‘Come on, we’d better go somewhere a little more in our league.’ But Darcy had to admit it was another world in here, the clothing so immaculate she didn’t dare touch any of it. ‘He offered to buy me something you know.’
Isabella, distracted by a trouser suit marked on sale, said, ‘Who did?’
‘Myles. He offered to buy me a dress.’
Isabella gasped. ‘You’re like Demi Moore in Indecent Proposal.’ They weaved past sales assistants and out of the door. ‘Would you sleep with him for a million bucks?’
‘Isabella!’ Darcy nudged her friend.
‘So does he look like Robert Redford?’
Darcy shook her head. ‘No, better.’
‘Girl, you’re in deeper than you know.’
‘Come on.’ Darcy refocused. ‘I really need some help, but we need to aim for more realistic stores than that one.’
They went into store after store. Darcy tried on a one-shoulder bow dress in royal blue but hated the colour and the style. She tried on a herringbone embroidered fit and flare dress in another store, a backless number somewhere else, but nothing felt right.
It felt as though they were never going to find anything.
They stepped out of yet another store and when Isabella declared hunger they grabbed a hot dog each from a stall on the next block.
‘I’d better not have too many of these if I want to fit into any dress.’ Darcy savoured the onions and slather of mustard as she popped the last piece into her mouth. ‘My hands are freezing.’ She quickly replaced her gloves. It was the season for hats already. Isabella had a navy one with a fawn pom-pom on top, and Darcy had one to match – another purchase from Cleo’s store in Inglenook Falls – except hers was a pale pink knitted version with the same faux-fur pom-pom.
Isabella wiped her mouth, found the nearest trash can and deposited her napkin in there. ‘You know, it’s so cold I think it’s going to snow soon.’ She hunched up her shoulders and put her own gloves back on.
‘I hope it does.’ Darcy beamed. ‘I love winter. The smell of it in the air. Even autumn was something I really noticed this year.’ They continued their walk along Fifth Avenue, waiting for the pedestrian signal to walk.
‘Since you went off travelling you mean?’
‘Yes. Australia was nearly always warm and when it wasn’t, it was far from the cold we get here. And London, well, London was damp and we had a bit of a snow flurry but nothing like a Manhattan winter where the snow comes down and everything around you falls silent. It’s like there’s magic in the air.’
Isabella sighed. ‘Come on, you. This isn’t helping us choose a dress. Clothes first, winter talk later.’
Next up was Armani, despite Darcy’s protests that it was too expensive. The warmth was glorious and the gorgeous clothes held their interest until Isabella started going on about Myles again. ‘If you’d let him buy you something you could shop in here.’
‘Not going to happen.’
‘You could’ve had those Manolo Blahnik satin heels from Saks,’ Isabella went on.
Darcy had had enough and waited by the door until her friend had finished. They stepped out onto the sidewalk.
‘I’m sorry, Darcy,’ said Isabella as they waited to cross the street at the next block. ‘You know me. I get carried away in my own fairy-tale imagination.’
Darcy nudged her friend, her breath making white puffs in the air as she spoke. ‘I know you only want the best for me.’
‘I do.’
They crossed when the sign changed. ‘It’s just you know I’ve always liked to be completely independent. I hate the idea that I’ll be reliant on someone else.’
‘But you’re not.’
‘I know I’m not now. I don’t think I ever could be.’
Darcy let herself be persuaded to grab a hot chocolate to take away and they strolled further down Fifth Avenue drinking their beverages and chatting. ‘I’ve seen too many women hurt by people they depend on.’
‘You mean men.’
‘OK, men.’
‘But what about all those people you see who end up happy?’ Isabella batted back.
‘I’ve never admitted this to anyone else, but I think I’m scared of not having control over my own destiny.’
‘That sounds dramatic.’
‘Lachie is ancient history, but after what he did, I realised how much safer I felt doing my own thing, following my own path. If we’d stayed together, he never would’ve been happy with me travelling you know.’
‘You guys talked about it?’
‘Not at great length, but a few things he said told me he wanted a more traditional, stable home life.’
‘Then it’s better you guys broke up when you did,’ said Isabella, before adding, ‘but sometimes you need to see that it’s OK to not always be in complete control. You might find you enjoy having someone to share things with. You know, I think this date could be your turning point.’
‘Well don’t go getting too excited about it. It’s one date, that’s all. It may all come to nothing. I’ve only had a couple of brief conversations with the man, so it’s early days.’ But secretly, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit it to herself, she really hoped it could develop into something more.
They finished their drinks and left the sidewalk for the warmth of an upmarket yet not over-the-top-pricey clothing store.
‘I’m sick of trying on dresses.’ Darcy was flagging already from taking all her layers off, putting them on again, then repeating it over and over at each store they reached.
‘This is gorgeous.’ Ignoring her, Isabella took out a purple ruffle dress. ‘But it’s the wrong colour.’
The shop assistant didn’t miss a thing. ‘It comes in a black also. What size do you need?’
Isabella directed the assistant to Darcy, who told her the size, and moments later there she was again in the fitting room removing her hat, scarf, coat, suit jacket, shirt. She looked at the black dress on its hanger, the smooth material, and she felt a leap of excitement at the event she was choosing this outfit for. The price was reasonable too: expensive but not ridiculously so.
‘Come on, I’m dying out here. Give me a look.’ Isabella’s impatient request carried through the fitting-room area.
‘Just a minute.’ Darcy pushed her arms into the material. She gently wriggled it over her chest and zipped it up. She stared at her reflection. ‘I’ll be out in a sec,’ she called, because she wanted to get used to a less-formal-looking Darcy before her friend voiced an opinion.
The dress, a classic black, was sleeveless to show the olive skin of her arms and had a ruffle on one shoulder, but it was simple, understated. The material at the neck sat in a flattering line across her collar bone, so she wouldn’t need a necklace, and the dress finished above her knee.
‘Wow.’ Isabella appeared in the changing room. ‘You look good in that. Your legs. I need those legs. Mine are good up to the knee, but beyond that they need to be covered.’
Darcy giggled at her friend’s assessment. ‘Your legs are just fine.’
‘Give me a twirl.’ Darcy did as instructed. ‘It’s gorgeous. And I know you say it’s classic, but as well as that, it’s dramatic.’ She stood next to her friend as they looked in the mirror. ‘See, at the bottom the ruffles give it an uneven hemline at the sides. And it’s perfectly nipped at the waist to flatter your figure. What colour shoes are you thinking?’
Darcy turned so she could see the back of the dress in the mirror. There were a couple of ruffles at the bottom of the skirt and the beauty of the black material was that you couldn’t see too much detail straight off but when the dress moved with you, it did so in an elegant way.
‘You could go with black,’ said Isabella, unsure.
‘I have black heels.’
‘Sparkly would be better,’ Isabella beamed. ‘Silver, teamed with a silver clutch. Do you have sparkly earrings? Perhaps studs would be best – classic and stylish.’
‘I have something,’ Darcy smiled.
‘Wait there.’ Isabella left her friend admiring her reflection but was back within less than a minute. She thrust a garment through the curtain. ‘Try this bolero jacket. You’ll need something to go from the Inn to The Plaza, and this is perfect.’
Darcy took the garment and put one arm in, then the other. It was snuggly warm, a faux-fur black bolero that didn’t detract from the shape of the dress. ‘It’s perfect.’ She smiled. ‘All we need now are shoes and a purse.’
Isabella grinned back at her. ‘I knew I’d get you enthusiastic about this somehow.’
When she was changed and the dress back on its hanger, Darcy took it out to the assistant, handed over her credit card, and, bundled up against the winter blast, she left the store one happy customer.
It didn’t take long to find a shoe store that had a great range, and Darcy had only tried on two pairs before she found the ones she wanted, a sleek pair of glittering silver stilettos that were surprisingly comfortable to wear. ‘These are perfect,’ Darcy declared.
‘As good as some of those we saw earlier?’
‘Better. And hundreds of dollars cheaper.’ She slipped her feet out of them, decided, and paid.
Next up was purse shopping. They needed to match it to the shoes and in the store next door they found the perfect silver clutch that glittered when it caught the light.
‘Just one coffee,’ Isabella begged when they were done.
‘I really have to get back to the Inn,’ Darcy insisted.
‘Then I’ll come to you. You can give me odd jobs to do if you like. I don’t mind helping out.’
Darcy couldn’t hold her laughter in. ‘You only want to gawp at Myles Cunningham, I’m not silly.’
‘I’m your friend; it’s important I make an assessment of him.’
Darcy linked her arm through Isabella’s, in a thoroughly good mood now she had something to wear on her date. ‘Fine, come on then.’
‘Yes!’
‘And thanks so much for today. I couldn’t have done it on my own.’
‘You wait. My sister is getting married next year and I’m going to make you come with me to find a bridesmaid dress. I need to find something suitable so I can guide her away from anything frilly or pastel. Pastels make me look ill.’
*
True to her word, Isabella helped Darcy out back at the Inn. She swept the hallway while Darcy answered the phone and started the fire going in the grate. While Darcy gave directions for the O’Sullivan family to find Battery Park, Isabella neatened up the newspapers on the table and wiped down the side tables.
‘For some reason,’ Isabella began, ‘doing this is a lot nicer than cleaning my own place.’
‘I think this place is even worse at the moment because of the glitter that comes with Christmas decorations.’ Darcy grimaced.
‘Ah, that’s why, it’s like sweeping up fairy dust,’ Isabella grinned. She tugged on her coat and took the broom from the closet in the hallway. ‘I’ll sweep the stoop.’
Darcy almost called after her that it was probably icy already given the plummeting temperatures outside, and that it was so dark she wouldn’t be able to see a thing. But with the time bang on six thirty, Darcy knew full well Isabella had an ulterior motive for doing all of this. She was trying to hang around long enough to see Myles, and by hovering outside she’d most likely get her wish.
Her suspicions were confirmed moments later when she heard Isabella chatting animatedly and a male voice carried through the door as her friend returned inside.
‘It’s freezing out there.’ Isabella had a coat on but her hands were bare.
Serves you right for being so nosy, Darcy thought, but didn’t give away her amusement.
‘It’s a bit icy for sweeping,’ said Myles, but Isabella dismissed the concern saying it was the first impressions that counted with guests. Darcy suspected Myles was onto Isabella as much as she was.
‘These came for you.’ Darcy handed him a couple of envelopes that had come in the mail today. Not many guests had mail delivered but he was here a lot longer than most, so she guessed it was inevitable.
‘Thank you.’ He reached out and took the mail, his skin briefly making contact with Darcy’s.
Isabella, the broom propped under one hand, was looking from Myles to Darcy and back again as though trying to read their faces.
‘Is there any chance of an evening meal tonight?’ Myles asked. Darcy wondered if he’d be more conversational if Isabella wasn’t lurking in the background.
‘Of course.’ Darcy left her friend pretending to straighten the garlands on the stairs beside them and found the menu. She handed it to Myles, who had one foot on the bottom step, ready to go up, take off his coat, dump his briefcase. He didn’t take long to choose the lasagne with salad, said he’d eat in the dining room this evening, and Darcy went off to confirm with Rupert.
‘Stop looking at me like that.’ When she came back from the kitchen, Isabella was still leaning on the broom handle, fit to burst with comments.
‘Like what?’ Isabella did her best to look innocent.
Darcy returned to the lounge and added another log to the fire. It didn’t take long for the flames to envelope it and roar away, heating the room to its optimum. Dating a guest wasn’t something she’d planned, and she hoped it wasn’t going to compromise her professionalism here at the Inn.
She turned to her friend. ‘Am I mad? Mixing business with pleasure is bound to be a recipe for disaster.’
‘Darcy,’ Isabella smiled, ‘he’s gorgeous. Do me a favour. Give yourself a break and just go with it.’