A Gift to Remember (21 page)

Caught offguard, Darcy said, ‘Oh yes, that’s me. Is it my turn now?’

The girl smiled. ‘Yep. You were pretty lucky to get seen to so quickly without an appointment,’ she said, and Darcy smiled wryly. Lucky indeed. But again, this Apple employee seemed
like a sweet girl. ‘My name is Jenna, and I’m going to be helping you today. I understand you have a smashed device? That’s tough.’

Darcy nodded and showed her Aidan’s phone. ‘Yes. I was wondering if it can be fixed?’

Jenna took the handset from her and engaged in a quick examination. ‘Hmm, it is pretty banged up.’ She went on to point out the damage to various ports and points using language that
sailed straight over Darcy’s head. ‘Well, unfortunately such things can rarely be repaired, and it’s usually more cost-effective to get a new phone,’ she told her in
conclusion.

Darcy grimaced. ‘That’s what I figured. But what about the information – the contact numbers and everything: would all of this have been damaged too?’

‘No, no, there’s nothing actually wrong with the phone memory. And the only reason the screen is blank is because the battery’s dead,’ Jenna informed her knowledgeably.
‘So we can easily transfer all of your data to the new one.’ She turned her attention to a little hand-held device that pulled up account information. ‘So, what’s your full
name and billing address, Darcy? And I can get a replacement iPhone sent down for you right away.’

‘Oh no – you see the thing is, the phone isn’t mine,’ Darcy told her hastily. ‘I’m just checking for a friend who really needs to access his information
– contacts, photographs, diary entries, that kind of thing.’

‘Oh, OK.’ Jenna’s face gave nothing away but Darcy guessed that no doubt employees like her heard countless versions of sob stories from people coming in with phones that
weren’t theirs, but wanting to access the information just the same. It sounded like a situation normally faced by the spouses of cheaters and scorned significant others.

But before Jenna could shut up shop and tell her that she wouldn’t be able to access anything without the accountholder’s permission, Darcy launched into the story of the accident
and how she was trying to help Aidan overcome his amnesia. She really needed Jenna’s help, even if she knew that the story she was telling made her sound a little bit crazy. And she
wasn’t even sure how effective she was being, considering the younger girl was staring at her in open-mouthed silence.

When Darcy finally stopped to take a breath, she decided that she needed to reinforce her desperation. ‘Please, Jenna. I know that this is unusual, and probably goes against company
policy, but I really do need your help. All of this is my fault and I am just trying to make it right.’

Jenna finally closed her mouth and regarded Darcy sceptically. ‘You’re right, this really is against company policy.’

‘Please. It’s only five days till Christmas and I am sure someone is missing him but nobody’s been able to get in touch with his family to tell them where he is. They’re
probably going out of their minds,’ she added, thinking about the woman on the answer machine who must be distraught by now.

Darcy guessed that if she could just access the iPhone information there would be countless and increasingly desperate calls from the same woman, and possibly more of Aidan’s loved ones
too. ‘You and I both know that most people’s lives are contained in their phones. Please. Would a stalker pay to have a phone fixed or buy a new one for a guy she barely even
knows?’

Jenna’s face was neutral even if she was thinking that a stalker might indeed do any and all of those things. Finally, she spoke. ‘So, what’s this guy’s name? I’m
assuming you know that much at least.’

Darcy nodded, happy that she did have this information. ‘Yes. It’s Aidan Harris.’

Jenna went to work tapping the information into the device. Then she frowned. ‘There are actually quite a few Aidan Harrises in the system. Do you by any chance have an address?’

Darcy duly relayed the address of Aidan’s place off Central Park West. After Jenna input the new information, she nodded.

‘Ah, I see it here now, but it’s listed under a company name.’ Then suddenly the younger girl’s eyes lit up in recognition. ‘Actually I
remember
this guy.
He was just here – I don’t know, about a week ago, maybe? I remember thinking the company sounded pretty cool from the name.’ She looked up at Darcy. ‘Tall with dark hair
and eyes? And kinda hot, if a little old.’

Aidan couldn’t be more than late thirties, not much older than Darcy but she supposed he seemed positively
ancient
for young Jenna.

‘Yes, that certainly sounds like him.’

The girl’s green eyes sparkled. ‘Yes, I
totally
remember him. He was having issues with his contact list. I set up Siri for him.’ She looked back down at her little
computer screen. ‘So he’s in the hospital now? You ran him over – seriously?’

Darcy bit her lip. ‘Well, kind of. But it was an accident. And it was with my bike. It’s not as though I crashed into him with a car or anything. But in light of this, do you think
we can get him a new phone? And how much will it cost?’ Her stomach clenched, not having a clue if she had enough credit on her Visa card to pay for it.

Jenna smiled. ‘No need to worry; there is insurance with the phone and instructions that any repairs, issues, bills, et cetera are to be charged to the company account. I can arrange for a
replacement, and then we can set up the data transfer.’

‘So he won’t lose any of the existing information and will be able to access contact numbers, photographs – all that?’ Darcy felt heartened; the stars were finally
aligning in her favour.

‘Yes, but first we will need written authorisation from the company to order the replacement.’

Darcy frowned, wondering how she was going to get round this. She guessed that if he worked for the company or even owned it, Aidan could sign some kind of authorisation?

Then a thought struck her. ‘Of course,’ she told Jenna distractedly. ‘I’m sure that would be no problem. Thanks so much for your help. Can you tell me the name of the
company so that I can arrange it?’

‘Sure.’ Jenna looked back down at the device in her hand and gave Darcy another piece of the puzzle that was Aidan Harris. ‘Like I said, I thought it sounded kind of
interesting. The name on the company account is Thrill Seeker Holdings.’

Life’s under no obligation to give us what we expect
.
Margaret Mitchell

Later that evening, back home with Bailey curled up alongside her on the couch, Darcy powered up her ancient Vaio laptop and did an internet search for Thrill Seeker
Holdings.

She’d been curious from the outset about what Aidan did for a living; finding out more about the company would provide her with the answer.

Like Jenna, she thought the name sounded intriguing, and wondered if he was one of those guys who was involved in adrenaline-type extreme sports, like snow-boarding and skydiving – a view
bolstered by the photographs she’d seen in his house. When the search came back she was expecting to be faced with pages of listings detailing the company’s various high-octane
offerings.

She couldn’t imagine that such a business would generate the kind of serious money that Aidan seemed to have though, and she considered for the first time the possibility that his wealth
might indeed have been inherited, after all. Perhaps he was actually American by birth but had picked up the Irish lilt while attending college there or something? She knew Trinity College was an
old and prestigious Dublin university, and sometimes the place of choice for second- or third-generation Irish-American families seeking to reconnect with their heritage.

She resolved to ask Aidan if the name of the college meant anything to him, and then turned her attention back to the internet search.

But unfortunately Google yielded scant results on Thrill Seeker Holdings; just a link to a general information page and a brief paragraph confirming that its office was incorporated at the Upper
West Side address. Nothing at all about what activities the company engaged in, or information on its directors, shareholders or employees. Odd.

Darcy recalled from her brief introduction to the mechanics of business during her time at
Celebrate
magazine that holding companies were often set up for legal or taxation rather than
operational reasons, and she guessed this was one such situation. The question remained: was Aidan an employee of the company or its founder?

Well, she could ask him about it tomorrow and see if the name kicked anything loose in his memory. Despite her best intentions to fill her day off tomorrow with reading and relaxation, now Darcy
was anxious to arrange the necessary authorisation to replace his iPhone, which meant that she would have to pay Roosevelt Hospital another visit. And of course she’d also promised to fix him
up with a temporary phone, which would be helpful to both of them for keeping in touch.

And possibly most important of all, she needed to drop off the package to him too, she thought, reminding herself of it. Setting the computer aside, she rose to her feet and went to the drawer
in which she’d stashed it the other night.

Taking it out and sitting back down on the sofa, she withdrew the gift box from the paper bag and studied it again.

It was probably five inches by eight inches or so, and the luxurious box and grosgrain ribbon signified that it had come from somewhere very upmarket indeed. She couldn’t put her finger on
why exactly, but it gave off an air of expectation, almost as if the air around it was charged with electricity.

And was it her imagination, or did it have the weight and dimensions approximate to a hardback book?

Could
this
be the key to unlocking Aidan’s memory? She hugged the package to her, taken by the romantic notion that a simple book could well be the answer to all of this, and it
took every ounce of her willpower not to open it there and then.

At that same moment, Bailey sat up and nudged her elbow, as if interested in sharing in her musings. Darcy stared at him, wishing for the umpteenth time that the Husky could talk. He could tell
all there was to know about his owner.

Looking back down at the gift box, she gently positioned the nail of her index finger under the lid, wondering if there was any way she could identify what was inside by getting a tiny peek.

As she did so, Bailey whined faintly and cocked his head. She bit her lip, wondering if he was trying to tell her to ‘go ahead’ or ‘hold on, you might not want to do
that.’

She looked at him, trying to figure out what the Husky was thinking. Then she looked again at the box, sorely tempted. ‘What do you think, boy?’

Bailey put his head on her knee and fixed those disconcertingly intelligent blue eyes on her face.

Darcy sighed and patted his crown. ‘I know, I know, you’re right. When all is said and done, I don’t think your owner would be too happy with me for interfering.’
Especially if the gift was something very personal.

No, she would leave the decision up to Aidan about whether the contents would be helpful when she returned it to him tomorrow. Darcy hoped against hope that he would put her out of her misery by
tearing the gift open there and then, as she knew her curiosity about whether or not it was indeed a book (and if so, what book?) would drive her crazy. Much as her curiosity about Aidan Harris was
driving her crazy.

Who had he bought it for? His mother? A sister? Girlfriend? Her heart deflated a little at the thought and she fought off disappointment that the first guy she’d felt close to in an age
should be involved with someone else. It had to be some lucky loved one of his who was worthy of such a beautifully presented token.

Thinking of loved ones, Darcy decided to call Katherine and thank her aunt properly for her help in arranging the meeting with Tabitha at Elizabeth Arden.

‘So how did it go?’ her aunt asked once Darcy had assured her that she hadn’t let the family name down.

‘Not terribly well. She didn’t seem to know Aidan Harris at all.’

‘You know, that woman is only a few years older than you,’ her aunt replied in an apparent non-sequitur.

‘Nine,’ she corrected, remembering the details from her internet biography earlier. ‘I think she’s nine years older than me, why?’

‘She had already met her husband by the time she was your age. Just so you know,’’ added Katherine.

Darcy rolled her eyes – some things would never change. ‘Katherine . . .’

‘Yes, yes, I know, you are happy being single and independent and responsible for your own destiny blah, blah, blah . . . I’ve heard it all before. I only say things like this
because I worry about you, darling. I’m not going to be around forever, you know, and before you say it, yes, of course I know all women don’t need husbands. But still . . .’

Darcy frowned at her aunt’s uncommonly emotional tone, wondering where all of this was coming from.

‘Is everything OK?’ she asked quietly, her heart rising in her throat. If something was wrong with her aunt, her only remaining living relative, she didn’t know what she would
do.

‘Of course I am – never better!’ her aunt replied, sounding much more like her usual robust self and immediately relieving Darcy’s unease. ‘So tell me more about
the redoubtable Mrs Kensington. She has quite a reputation . . .’

Sticking firmly to her promise to Tabitha, and knowing how quickly word travelled in her aunt’s profession, Darcy was reluctant to disarrange the socialite’s carefully-cultured
public image by confessing to her aunt that in reality Tabitha was actually quite sweet.

‘Yes, the meeting was somewhat of an . . . ordeal,’ she replied evasively, looking down at her hands, ‘but seeing as you’re familiar with Tabitha, I wonder would you have
heard of Aidan somehow too? Given the Rothko and the antique rugs and everything, you would think someone like him must be in the thick of things in New York society.’ It was something that
she’d thrown out there merely to change the subject, but she wondered now if the idea had some merit.