Chapter Seventeen
Darcy
The carpeted steps bordered with gold handrails leading up to the doors of The Plaza swarmed with people, some coming out of the iconic hotel, others going in. Doormen wore black uniforms, hats trimmed with the same gold that appeared above the entrance and on handles. Gold lamps stood tall to the side with a cluster of glowing round bulbs illuminating the front on a winter’s night.
Darcy was first in to a compartment in the revolving door and, her eyes wide with wonder, she couldn’t wait to see what was on the other side. In the foyer was a big round wooden table with the most exquisite floral arrangements sitting on top. Two enormous glass vases contained deep red lilies, other smaller displays held red daisies and the scent filled the area as crowds gathered for another evening in the city. An opulent chandelier hung from the ceiling and ornate panelling on the walls left you in no doubt as to the luxurious hotel you were in.
Myles took Darcy’s arm as they passed by the bar on their left and then a restaurant on their right, weaving their way through to get to their venue. Guests and visitors bustled inside the building, some on their way to the food court, others dressed up and heading in the opposite direction to go out in Manhattan, wafts of expensive perfume accompanying glitzy jewellery and colourful scarves. They followed signs with Myles’s company name on them and stepped into the lift that would whisk them up to the floor with the Grand Ballroom, and all the while Darcy thought she was going to have to pinch herself. It all felt too good to be true.
Once upstairs, Myles took her jacket and handed it to the hostess, who hung it in a cloakroom facility while Darcy headed in the direction of the ladies’ restroom. They hadn’t stood in the snow for long but she’d felt it land on her eyelashes and the last thing she wanted was to have panda eyes all evening. Truthfully she could’ve stood out there much longer. She hadn’t even been that cold. She’d been so warm in the taxi with the heating cranked up to an almost uncomfortable level, that out in the fresh air she’d been happy standing next to Myles, the temperature of the evening not at the forefront of her mind compared to the businessman she was getting to know on a deeper level.
Darcy checked her reflection. Her mascara was intact and her deep pink lip gloss shimmered beneath the lights. Her foundation gave a natural coverage and the earrings Myles had given her shone proudly from behind the waves of her hair. She fished in her silver clutch and applied a touch more gloss to make sure and spritzed a little of her favourite Chanel perfume, which she’d bought in a purse-size bottle especially for tonight. It was an extravagance, but she’d count it as an early Christmas treat because it wasn’t every day you came to a party like this.
Deep breath in and another out, she was ready to see Myles again. Outside the Grand Ballroom he was already in conflab with men in suits. Darcy was used to meeting new people so had no qualms joining them. She met Robert and Davina, colleagues of Myles’s, as well as their respective partners, she met Neil and his wife, and another man was introduced with his fiancée, neither of whom Myles had met before, and Darcy was ashamed to admit she forgot their names straight away.
‘You OK?’ Myles leaned closer to her and she could smell the familiar aftershave that had wafted in and out of the brownstone every day he’d been staying there.
She turned her attention back to him. ‘I have met people before you know.’
He smiled, his gaze flitting from her eyes to her lips, the promise of something else in his expression. ‘I’ll do my best to keep you company for as long as I can.’ He discreetly steered her away from the main crowd and into the ballroom, where he plucked two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and handed one to her.
‘I know you’ll have to do the work talk, you told me that’s how your boss operates.’
‘You make it sound so covert.’
They stood at the entrance to the ballroom and Darcy looked around her at the glitz, the glamour, the very different world she was a part of tonight. A warm glow enveloped the room filled with round tables. Similar floral arrangements to those downstairs stood tall and proud in the centre of each table, with a candle to complete the look. The room was framed with archways, expensive-looking material acting as drapes in each section, a stage was set up for a band to play and low music welcomed guests inside. The men were impeccably dressed in their tuxedos, the women were glamorous, sophisticated, in flowing gowns or cocktail dresses and they all looked a natural part of the set-up. If Darcy thought about it too much she’d realise she wasn’t that at all, but, then again, maybe these women had just as many self-doubts tonight as she did. It wasn’t easy being somebody else’s plus one. You had to talk to their colleagues, make small talk with their wives or girlfriends, behave how you believed they wanted or expected you to.
‘I’ve been to a few parties in my time,’ said Myles, ‘but none has ever been quite so grand.’ He placed a hand in the small of her back as they moved past a couple of tables and into a space. ‘Or maybe they have, and being in a new city makes it all the more exciting.’
‘No, I agree. It’s this place.’ Her eyes took in the room again. ‘It’s something else.’
‘It most certainly is.’ He fiddled with his collar against his neck.
‘You seem uncomfortable.’
‘Something’s scratching me.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Now I’m getting flashbacks of how red your neck was that day.’ She couldn’t help the smile. ‘I swear I haven’t been putting itching powder in your bed.’
‘Don’t mention itching powder,’ he grimaced. ‘Oh no, now I’m scratching.’
‘Hold this.’ She handed him her glass of champagne with the faint trace of lip gloss on the rim if you looked closely enough. Darcy didn’t think she’d ever perfect the art of keeping lip gloss on all evening, especially not tonight when there was food and drink involved. ‘Let me see what’s going on.’ She stood on tiptoes and could just about make out a small piece of a plastic tag still on the neck of his shirt. ‘We need scissors.’
He scratched at it again. ‘I don’t carry those. I’m not sure it’d be acceptable.’
Darcy took her glass and then grabbed his free hand in hers. ‘Come with me.’ She had a quick word with a hostess who was passing by tables ensuring everything was just so, and left Myles talking to his boss while she waited for the hostess to bring her a pair of scissors. Implement in her hand, she surreptitiously nodded to Myles and he made his excuses before meeting her outside the ballroom.
Darcy led him away from the crowd into a small corridor. ‘We can’t have you facing your colleagues with a neck like the one you ended up with in London.’ When she laughed, he did too. She was glad they both could by now.
He stood facing the wall, holding both glasses again, and when her heels didn’t give her quite enough height to be able to pull down the back of the collar and snip as close to the material as she’d like, she stood on tiptoes. Her fingers made contact with his skin and she wasn’t sure but she thought he may have shivered a little. She snipped the plastic tag, announced it was all done, and he turned to face her, a glass in each hand.
‘Thank you.’ His eyes held hers.
‘You’re welcome.’ She couldn’t look away. She moved closer. She could feel the heat from his body, smell the crisply ironed shirt and its newness, she could see the smoothly shaven jaw with just a hint at where stubble would come through if he gave it permission. His eyes only left hers once to look lower, to her lips.
‘There you are, Myles.’ A jolly-looking fellow came along the corridor stifling any chemistry that was more than ready to erupt. ‘Let me introduce you to Harry.’ Another man followed behind.
The men shook hands, Myles introduced Darcy, and they all did a quick cover of the weather, the city, this amazing building and Darcy soon gathered this must be the new client Myles’s boss was so desperate to impress. As they walked back to the Grand Ballroom she wondered whether this was what it was like to be a corporate wife, always on the edge, never quite a part of it until you were invited in to the inner sanctum.
The evening’s preliminaries passed quickly and Darcy did her best to live up to what she believed Myles needed, talking to other wives and girlfriends, letting him use tonight for business as much as pleasure. She caught him looking over at her more than once and it made her insides flip over every time. She was filled with champagne, she’d absorbed the, at times, overwhelming, affluent atmosphere, and before she knew it they were seated, ready for a feast she had no doubt would be just as fancy as the rest of the affair.
Darcy was sitting opposite Myles and next to his colleague Geoff, who was a pleasant man. He seemed to be on the same wavelength and desperate to talk about anything other than work. ‘I’ve had to do that for the last hour,’ he told Darcy. ‘Please talk about anything else and give me a break before I have to do it all over again with a stomach full of food.’
‘It’s not that bad, surely?’ Darcy could see Myles relaxed in conversation with one of the wives.
‘I do it all day, every day, and our boss expects it tonight. I don’t know, call me old-fashioned, but a Christmas party should be about letting your hair down.’ He reached up and touched a distinctly receding hairline. ‘I don’t have much, but I still want to enjoy the end of the year when I’ve worked so hard.’
‘I think you’re right,’ Darcy admitted, and they started by talking about travel, a subject Darcy was more than comfortable with.
Their talk took them through the starters and on to the main course, with other people at the table joining in intermittently, and by the time they got to dessert and it was just the two of them talking again, Geoff said, ‘Now tell me, what do you do, Darcy?’
‘I work in hotels.’
His eyes widened. ‘This one?’
‘Not quite. The place I work is a little smaller.’
‘And where is it?’
She told him all about the Inglenook Inn, her responsibilities in the short-term, her dreams for the future.
‘You know, Darcy, my wife and I always try to stay at the boutique-type hotels whenever we go out of town. Last month we were in Vermont and stayed at a four-bedroom hotel in Burlington.’ He put a hand over his wife’s; she was on his opposite side and talking to a man whose name Darcy couldn’t remember. ‘What was the name of the hotel in Vermont?’
She told Darcy, smiled, and after Geoff patted her hand she went back to her conversation.
‘I’d be lost without her,’ Geoff grinned, earning himself a nudge from his wife. Darcy wondered what it would be like to be so close to someone that they finished your sentences, filled in the blanks when they got in the way of your memories.
‘Vermont is beautiful.’
‘It sure is,’ he said. ‘And the boutique hotel was much better for us. We could have our privacy but in the shared areas we got talking with other guests. It was so much more personal.’ He leaned closer. ‘I wouldn’t want to stay anywhere this grand. I’d feel like I was being scrutinised all the time, afraid to make a sound.’
‘That makes sense to me.’
‘So, where else have you worked?’ He was genuinely interested and Darcy knew it also took him away from the business a lot of people were still talking about at their tables. She could hear Myles talking about a new venture for the company, someone on their other side talking about high risk strategies, and she could tell by the furrow of a man’s brow on the table to the side of them that he would probably spend the entire night talking work.
Darcy told Geoff about some of her other work escapades and they talked about the hotel industry, the pluses and the minuses, about tourism in general, and by the end of the dinner Darcy felt thoroughly relaxed.
‘Thank you, Darcy.’ Geoff shook her hand as they stood to leave the table, and he handed her a business card. ‘Give my brother a call. As I explained, he works for a global company and they’re always on the lookout for good accommodation when employees relocate to New York.’
‘Wow, that’s great.’ She took the card and slipped it into her purse. ‘Thank you so much.’ This is what the Inn needed, good corporate business that could become a steady, reliable source of income.
‘Your young lady is like a breath of fresh air,’ Geoff told Myles when Myles joined them from the other side of the table.
‘She’s definitely that,’ he said. And when Geoff and his wife went on their way, added, ‘You seem to be enjoying yourself.’
‘I really am.’ As she looked round, her glittering earrings caught the light and reflected in the mirror, and she realised she actually was a part of this tonight. ‘You’ll have to excuse me though. I need to go to the restroom. The champagne has been going down very nicely.’
‘Of course.’ Myles smiled warmly. ‘Don’t be long, though. And I’ll meet you back here.’
Her heart leapt at his touch and the way he was looking at her tonight, and as she stood in line waiting for the restroom she found herself wondering what they could possibly do for their second date, because tonight was going better than she’d ever dared to imagine.
At the end of the line Darcy eventually made it into the toilet stall. She rested her purse on the hook on the other side of the door, careful to ensure it balanced, but a familiar voice caught her attention. It was Holly, the editor. She’d recognise that voice anywhere.
Darcy used the toilet, hoping she’d catch Holly before she left. She’d had no idea she would be here tonight and she wanted to ask whether she’d checked in at the Inglenook Inn and, more importantly, whether she was already impressed.
Holly and her companion had voices that travelled. Darcy smiled to herself. They were surely fuelled with champagne as they talked loudly about a man here tonight with a comb-over and rancid breath. Darcy only prayed the man’s wife wasn’t in here – if he was lucky enough to be married, that was.
But their next topic stopped Darcy in her tracks just as she was about to unlock the door.
‘I’ve found a gorgeous little place, The Inglenook Inn.’ Holly was answering the other woman’s question about where she was staying in Manhattan.
‘I’ve heard of it!’ her companion announced with glee.
Darcy grinned. This was a good sign. Word of mouth was exactly what they needed. But she wasn’t prepared for what came next.
‘It’s run by somewhat of a Cinderella, apparently,’ the woman continued, starting to laugh now.
Myles’s name for her made Darcy’s hand freeze on the lock and she was shaking, deep down knowing that this wasn’t going to be something she wanted to hear.
‘Cinderella?’ Holly’s unmistakable tone was inquisitive. Darcy guessed she had to be that way in her job, finding out the good and bad about the world.
‘The girl who runs it,’ the woman answered as though it should be obvious. She elaborated. ‘A colleague of Justin’s is staying there now. He’s over from England.’
Darcy had no doubt they were talking about Myles now.
The woman went on. ‘Apparently this girl, who Justin’s colleague has dubbed Cinderella, put up a Christmas tree in his apartment, which he hadn’t asked for and hated – he has some issue about Christmas. She just let herself in and tidied around like she had a magic wand and could make everything perfect again.’
‘This person obviously doesn’t know his fairy tales very well,’ said Holly. ‘It’s the Fairy Godmother who waves her wand, not Cinderella.’
The other woman harrumphed. ‘Well anyway, he sent a long email rant going on and on about it, how she’d wound him up, how she interfered, how she lights the fires and sweeps the grate and is always there in the background, lurking. She sounds like a bit of a bunny boiler if you ask me.’
Darcy slumped against the door. She couldn’t possibly go out now because Holly would know she’d overheard everything. Tears prickled her eyes and she felt her lower lip wobble. Usually she could take criticism, but not second-hand, or third-hand, and not when it had originated from the man she had begun to have feelings for. And Darcy valued honesty above all else. Lachie had never respected that and it looked like Myles was no different.
‘I didn’t find the manager like that at all.’ Holly’s voice drifted through the closed cubicle door. ‘If we’re talking about the same girl I think we are, I found her to be welcoming and friendly. I can’t imagine she’d interfere.’
‘Well, I suppose some people just clash.’
Darcy’s heart sank even further. She wanted to run far away from The Plaza and forget she’d even bothered coming here tonight.
‘I’m writing a feature on the place in the New Year,’ Holly confessed, their extended conversation keeping Darcy exactly where she was.
‘Well this will give you another angle. The Cinderella story.’ The woman’s cackling bounced off the walls of the restroom. Drunk or not, the words still had the power to hurt. ‘How about I forward the email to you? I’ll track it down – I’m sure Justin still has it.’ Darcy didn’t hear what else they said. All she heard was raucous laughter from the woman as the door to the restroom opened and then closed, leaving her hovering in the stall like a mouse too scared to come out and take a bite of the cheese in case the trap shut tight and finished her off.
Heart thudding against her chest, Darcy stayed in the stall until she was sure the restrooms were completely empty. Only then did she venture out. She was shaking, her eyes filled with tears. Angrily she swiped one away as it dared to topple out and across her cheekbone. How dare he? How dare he write about her in such a horrid way? Did he realise what he’d done? Holly could ask for the actual email and use it! Readers would love a juicy angle, especially when it came from a guest’s perspective, and Holly wouldn’t have made her mark in the editorial world without delivering a few of those types of stories. This had the potential to tarnish Sofia’s reputation and her own.
And Myles was responsible for it all.