The Dare Collection December 2019. Clare Connelly

me to one of his friends, a girl called Bryony, whose parents died when she was thirteen. She was taken in by her aunt, but they fought non-stop. She ran away from home and ended up in Brooklyn, working as a prostitute until she found Chance.

      My gut tightens.

      These poor kids.

      And their guardian angel, Imogen.

      It’s hard to fathom the effect this has on me—seeing for myself what she’s doing, how hard she’s worked to make a difference. I feel immediately impotent and completely selfish. I’ve worked my arse off these past five years but for what? To make myself richer? To make my family’s already considerable fortune greater?

      When this is how people live?

      ‘Hey.’ She appears at my side, and her smile is a little tighter now, her eyes less sparkly.

      ‘Is everything okay?’

      ‘Yeah.’ Her eyes run over the room and before she can say anything else, a young teenager, maybe thirteen, comes bounding up to her.

      ‘Imogen!’ She puts her arms around Imogen’s waist and Imogen dips down lower to wrap the girl in a proper hug.

      ‘Sasha. I was hoping I’d see you today. How are you, sweetheart?’

      ‘Good. I got something for you.’

      ‘You did?’ Imogen frowns. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.’

      ‘I know. But I saw it and I thought of you. Hang on. I’ll be right back.’

      ‘I’ll be here.’

      Imogen slides a glance at me. ‘She’s twelve. She became a part of Chance four years ago, when her parents were going through a divorce. Her mom was living in a car at the time. Sasha was stealing stuff from bodegas to get by.’ She shakes her head wistfully.

      Sasha appears a second later. ‘Here.’ She hands a small bag over. Imogen opens it and laughs, pulling out some saltwater taffy. ‘I remember you saying you love it.’ Sasha grins and Imogen nods.

      ‘I do. So much. You’ve spoiled me.’

      Sasha beams. I’m completely transfixed by Imogen’s look of gratitude and surprise—that someone who does so much for so many should be genuinely chuffed by such a token gift. It’s…charming. And…beautiful. No. Lovely.

      She’s lovely.

      She quizzes Sasha. ‘Did you get something to eat?’

      ‘Uh-huh.’

      ‘And a jacket?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Go pick one out, honey.’ Imogen waves towards the table. ‘The forecast is for more snow this week.’

      ‘I know. Merry Christmas.’

      Another hug, and as Sasha disappears into the crowd again Imogen’s eyes are moist. ‘You ready to go?’ she asks, looking up at me.

      ‘Sure. You can leave already?’

      ‘Yeah.’ Her smile is dented. I wait until we’re outside before I ask her what’s going on.

      I like that she doesn’t try to fob me off. She could have, but, then again, I’ve come to know her pretty well and I don’t think I’d be convinced by a lie. Something’s bothering her, something other than the sight of so many kids in need of Chance’s support.

      ‘It’s our intern programme,’ she says thoughtfully. ‘We have a partnership with Eckerman Walsh for kids who want to move into finance. They take five Chance high school seniors a year on internships and help fund college for some. But they’re going through a significant restructure and they’ve asked to put a pause on it for two years, while they right the ship.’ She looks up at me, apology on her features. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to bore you with that.’

      ‘You’re not,’ I demur, instantly.

      ‘I’ll work it out. It’s just that this year’s kids were due to start in September and now they have nowhere to go. It’ll be crushing.’

      I don’t even think about it. ‘They can come to me.’

      ‘What?’ She’s startled. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘My office here. I run three hedge funds within my umbrella of companies. Let them come to Rothsmore Group for their internships. We’ll take up the same terms as Eckerman Walsh, including college tuition. In fact, I could offer the same for each of the cities my fund has a presence. London, Rome, Sydney…’

      ‘Nic…’ She shakes her head from side to side so her blonde hair fluffs against her beautiful face. ‘I can’t let you do that.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because…’ Her voice trails into the ether.

      ‘Because?’

      ‘Because, I feel like you’re only offering because we’re sleeping together.’

      ‘I’m offering because I’ve just spent an hour of my life seeing that I’ve been a useless, selfish git, that there are incredible kids out there who deserve a better chance in life and you’re giving it to them. I’m offering because I want to help in some small way that I can.’

      Her mouth drops open. I look around quickly and steal a kiss, a kiss that makes me ache for her, a kiss that makes me feel things I can’t compute.

      ‘You said you never turn down donations to the charity,’ I remind her.

      ‘I know. But you’re…you. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you…’

      ‘Oh, you’re welcome to take advantage of me any time,’ I tease, wiggling my eyebrows dramatically.

      But she shakes her head, lifts a hand to my chest. ‘It’s so generous.’

      ‘I can afford it.’ I smile. ‘And I insist. I want to do this.’

      And I really, really do.

      ‘So, your grandmother sounds pretty wise.’ Imogen blinks up at me from the book she’s reading. She likes to read. And I like watching her read. About five dates ago, she found her way to my library upstairs and has been working her way through the classics, just for fun.

      ‘She was.’ Imogen’s smile is full of affection.

      ‘Did she really used to say that? About the dolphin?’

      ‘Yeah! Why? You thought I made it up?’

      ‘I just haven’t heard it before.’

      ‘Oh, she had all these really neat sayings. Like, “It don’t matter how scratched up you are, you get back on the bike.”’

      I laugh. ‘I could have used that advice.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Oh, I came off my bike a long time ago and never rode again.’

      She looks surprised. ‘That doesn’t sound like you. Quitting?’

      ‘I wasn’t afraid to ride again,’ I clarify. ‘I just didn’t particularly like the feeling of crashing off it.’

      ‘I can’t say I blame you. Still, Meemaw would have insisted you keep riding.’

      I smile. ‘What else would she say?’

      ‘Hmm… “If you’re careful, you only have to light a fire once.” Lots of them didn’t make much sense, but she’d say them and Pa would look at me and roll his eyes. I miss them.’

      ‘They’re both gone?’

      ‘Yeah.’