I’ll Take New York. Miranda Dickinson

Jake felt the thud of disappointment as his old foe reared its head once more. ‘It’s been tough. But we’ll get through it. I’m looking to the future and so is she.’ Please let that be enough, he added silently, knowing full well it wouldn’t be.

      ‘Still, being single in Manhattan is no easy run. I mean, look around you. Can you see anyone else single in this room?’

      Every defence in Jake rose like sheets of steel. ‘I hear Chef Henri’s on the lookout for Wife Number Three.’

      ‘Bad news for you, then.’ Bob slapped his hand a little too enthusiastically on Jake’s back. ‘Don’t sweat it, man. You’ll bounce back. In the meantime, if you need setting up on any dates Barbara can put you in touch with lots of lovely ladies from her club. Just say the word and she’ll play Cupid.’

      ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’

      ‘Good, good. Ah, I’m being summoned. You take care, Jake.’

      Jake maintained his smile until Bob had disappeared into the crowd, letting out a sigh and downing the rest of his champagne in a single gulp, then reaching for a fresh glass when a waitress passed by. It was going to be a long night …

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       Private loft apartment, Upper West Side

      As soon as Bea entered the expensive loft apartment, her heart sank.

      Couples. As far as the eye could see.

      In the middle of the room, a tall, good-looking man with an endearing mess of dark hair and vivid blue eyes was tapping a fork against his champagne glass to summon the guests’ attention. Bea took a glass from the smiling waiter and huddled between her brother and Celia as the room fell silent.

      ‘Hey, everyone. Now you know I’m not one for long speeches so this will be short and sweet. But I just wanted to thank you all for coming this evening and, especially, to my bro over there for arranging this whole event.’

      The guests clapped and over their heads Bea saw a hand rise in acknowledgement.

      ‘But the main reason we’re here – as you all know – is a long overdue celebration of the best day of my life so far.’ He turned to a beautiful dark-haired woman in a stunning red dress beside him. ‘Rosie, when you agreed to marry me I couldn’t believe my luck.’

      A chorus of ‘ahh’s came from the guests, closely followed by spontaneous laughter.

      The man raised an eyebrow. ‘Wow, you guys are more pathetic than I am.’

      ‘Get on with it!’ someone yelled.

      ‘OK, OK. I’m going to be serious for precisely one minute and then we can all enjoy the night.’ He smiled at his fiancée and a reverent silence claimed the room as every guest witnessed exactly how he felt about her. ‘Rosie Duncan, I love you. And I can’t wait to make you Mrs Steinmann this Christmas. You are all I want in life and to know I’m yours is better than breathing.’ He reddened and laughed at his own words. ‘And so, before I embarrass myself and everyone else beyond rescue, I’ll just say please raise your glasses to wish us the best.’

      ‘To Rosie and Ed!’ the crowd replied as one, crystal champagne flutes lifting around the room.

      Bea’s skin felt damp and cold as sickening reality hit. This isn’t just a regular party. It’s an engagement party. How had Celia failed to mention this small detail? And how did she think going to an engagement party in a room full of couples she didn’t know would help Bea forget everything that happened with Otis?

      Looking into her glass she realised she had already emptied it. Right now, getting drunk seemed like the perfect option …

      ‘See? I told you that you’d love these people!’ Celia said, swapping Bea’s empty glass for a fresh one without question.

      ‘It’s an engagement party,’ Bea hissed back.

      ‘Of course it is, honey. Rosie is one of my dearest friends and she and Ed are just such an adorable couple, don’t you think?’

      ‘They seem very happy … But that’s the point, Celia: they’re a couple. Just like everyone else in the room?’

      Celia waved her hand. ‘Nonsense. Several of these gorgeous waiters must be single. Look at them, Bea! I’d say your luck’s in this evening …’

      Bea resisted the urge to scream. Celia had a heart of gold but she could make the Dalai Lama lose his cool. ‘I didn’t come to find a man,’ she said carefully. ‘I came to get away from Brooklyn for a few hours.’

      ‘Well, in that case, the couples shouldn’t bother you at all, honey! Drink champagne, eat some of this fabulous food and relax. You’ll thank me for bringing you here, I promise.’

      As Celia wafted away in a cloud of Chanel No. 5, Bea looked around the party. The full-length windows at the opposite end of the apartment gave a wonderful view of the Upper West Side, the lights from surrounding buildings a stunning mosaic set against a blue-black cloudless New York sky. She moved towards it, the beauty of her adopted city stealing her attention. Whatever else happened in her life, New York was the constant. The city could change and forge a blazing path of progress, but the vibrant heart of the Big Apple beat as surely as it ever had. It was the city that had called to Bea many years before as she dreamed of it in her family home in Shropshire, and being part of New York had been the reason for all of her decisions since the age of seventeen. It had painted an East Coast note in her accent, bled into her emotions and laid claim to her heart.

      I was wrong about the party, Bea said to herself, I do have a friend here. She smiled at the breathtaking nightscape. Hi, NYC. I’m so glad to see you …

      ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

      Bea looked across at the blond-haired guest beside her. She guessed he was in his thirties, although in this part of New York it was impossible to tell. He might just have a very good surgeon …

      ‘Stunning. Must be fabulous to live somewhere like this.’

      He smiled, revealing a perfect set of brilliantly white teeth. ‘It is. Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself.’ He held his left hand out, the light from the halogen spots above them glinting across the wide gold band on his third finger. ‘Wes Avery.’

      ‘Bea James.’

      ‘Pleasure to meet you, Bea. So how do you know the happy couple?’

      Given that this was a private engagement party for a couple Bea didn’t even know, she had been dreading this question. ‘They’re good friends of my brother’s partner, Celia.’

      ‘Celia Reighton? Wow, I didn’t realise I was in the company of a Reighton clanswoman.’ Seeing Bea’s confusion, he laughed. ‘I know her well. So you’re Stewart’s single sister, huh?’

      Great. ‘I suppose I must be.’

      ‘I’ve been hearing about you from Celia. Seems she’s keen to get you hooked up.’

      That figured. Bea kept her smile steady while secretly planning how she would exact her revenge on Stewart’s partner. ‘I see. Well, I’m in no hurry to …’

      Wes’ hand appeared at the small of her back, the sudden – and uninvited – contact causing Bea to quickly step away. ‘Hey, don’t sweat it. Being single is an advantage. Just because people arrived here in couples, doesn’t mean they all want to leave in one.’ His thousand-kilowatt smile fixed squarely on her. ‘Listen, I have a great loft a few blocks from here. If you ever want a personal, private view of the Upper West Side, call me.’ He thrust a business card into her hand and sauntered