of cold pizza. ‘Wanting and doing are different things. I wanted all kind of things,’ he said through mouthfuls of food.
‘You could be anything you want, if you just worked at it.’ She went to the kitchen and gave him a piece of paper towel to use as a napkin.
He stuck it in his pocket and used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, studying the screen. He threw himself down in Hayley’s chair, sprawling in it. ‘Did old Luke ever get married? Or is he waiting for you?’
‘Don’t be disgusting.’ Hayley’s voice was harsher than she had meant it to be. ‘And no, he’s not married. But we’re not that kind of friends.’
‘If you say so.’
‘Would you get out of my chair! You’re going to get pizza sauce on it.’
‘Oooohhh. The queen’s throne!’ He playfully pretended to wipe his hands on the chair.
Hayley swatted him, but couldn’t help smiling. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be at work?’
‘I quit. Night watchman is a joke job. I need to get something that suits me better. Maybe I’ll be a TV star, too.’
‘You got fired, didn’t you?’ It was a statement, not a question. Hayley knew him only too well.
‘It’s better to get fired than quit. I keep telling you that. Then you can collect unemployment.’
‘What am I going to do with you?’
‘Since you asked … can you lend me a few bucks to hold me, till my unemployment kicks in?’
‘Mikey, I just gave you five hundred dollars.’
Mikey looked stricken. ‘That was a week ago. I know you’re a penny pincher. Well, I guess I can get a loan. I know some people.’
‘No!’ Hayley went to find her bag. ‘Stay away from those guys. They charge a hundred per cent interest, and you know what happens when you don’t pay. I’ll give you what I have.’
Mikey counted the money. It was a hundred and twenty dollars. ‘Maybe you could cash a cheque?’
‘Out! Go home before I take that money back.’
He playfully lifted her up and whirled her around. ‘Thank you, big sister.’ He indicated Luke, whose face was still frozen on the television screen. ‘I’ll leave you two alone.’
‘Go!’
Mikey blew her a kiss, and let himself out. Hayley collapsed in her chair. She stared at the screen and smiled. ‘You were right, Luke. I’m a patsy. But he’s so damn loveable I just can’t help myself.’
She snapped off the television set and poured herself another glass of wine. After a moment she locked and chained the door and moved to the desk near the window. She unlocked the bottom drawer and pulled out an ancient scrapbook full of clippings and photos. Handling it with care, she took it with her to the giant chair and opened it.
The book was all about Luke Thompson. There were school pictures of him when he was eight and nine, old clippings about his sports triumphs, and a catalogue of his progress from roving reporter to anchor of his own national television show on a major network. After a moment, she found what she was looking for. It was a yellowed letter in a child’s hand, which Luke had written to her shortly after she got the scholarship to Miss Porter’s.
Dear Hayley,
It’s boring here without you. Mrs Barrett in the next room still snores like a rhino. Remember when you sneaked in and put a clothes pin on her nose? I think Dad got a job, so maybe we’ll be moving in to our own place soon. Do you like your school? If those snotty rich girls give you a hard time, let me know and I’ll come up and take care of them for you. No one’s going to mess with my girl. That’s all for now.
Luke
P.S. Your brother got sent to the principal’s office again yesterday. I hear he got caught smoking in the teacher’s bathroom.
Hayley smiled wistfully, carefully refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She held the scrapbook to her heart as if it were a sacred relic.
Or the chronicle of the man she loved.
Fiona was tearing through her closet, wishing that she had Hayley’s talent for saying no to people. She had an hour to change and then meet the famous Mr Luke Thompson at Penn Station. She had already visited with the committee hosting the award dinner, and had worked out most of the details. But, as guest of honour, Luke was entitled to a courtesy meeting to approve the plans.
She had scheduled the meeting at the office for four o’clock today, but then Luke had called a few hours ago with a change of plans. Something had come up, a lead on a story he was working on. He had to take the 4 p.m. Acela, the express train to Washington, D.C., for a meeting at the State Department. He would then leave for Thailand in the morning. If she cared to ride along on the train, they would have two hours and forty-eight minutes to work out all the details of the award evening. He would be happy to send her back by plane, and she would be in New York later the same evening.
The last thing Fiona wanted to do was sit on a train for three hours, but this was Hayley’s friend and she felt she had to say yes. Besides which, she’d been wanting to see the new photography collection at the National Gallery. She could stay in D.C. overnight, see the exhibition, and fly back in the morning. It would all work out if only she could find something suitable to wear, and get to the station in an hour.
Being tall, with a voluptuous body and long shapely legs, Fiona evoked a strong reaction from men and women alike. Today she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, so she dressed to downplay the curves, especially for a business meeting. Although she wasn’t aware of it, her efforts did not work. She had the kind of allure and beauty that were impossible to disguise.
Finally she settled for cream-coloured slacks and a short-sleeved lavender sweater. It was spring, but weather in mid-April was so changeable on the East Coast. And Washington could be a steam bath, even at this time of year. Layers, she reminded herself.
She went back into the closet and found a fitted blue jacket trimmed with bone buttons, and selected a vintage Hermès scarf. She slid her feet into beige patent L.K.Bennett pumps, the ones favoured by the Duchess of Cambridge, and examined herself in the mirror. With her cream-coloured trench coat she would be ready for any eventuality the day offered.
Or so she thought. But then, no one could have predicted what this day had in store for Fiona Chambers.
She sat at her dressing table and studied her face. She had the creamy complexion of her English ancestors, wide-set blue eyes and straight blonde hair that Hayley, always fighting with her wild mass of curls, openly coveted.
On a whim, Fiona opened a drawer, took out a cosmetic pouch, and emptied the contents onto the table. She began to apply makeup, something she rarely did. She was basically a soap-and-water kind of girl but now, she decided, she would gild the lily a bit.
What
