One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) (27 page)

‘
T
his is where you live
?’ Hayley looked up at the glass and chrome building in front of them. It was imposing, somehow stood out amongst the other premises of equal stature around it. The snow was falling heavily now and her teeth started to chatter. She wrapped her arms around herself, holding onto the sequinned bag like a lifebuoy.

‘This is where I live. Come on, let’s get inside before you freeze,’ he said, heading towards the doorman. ‘Hey, Bosco.’

‘Good evening, Mr Drummond,’ the doorman responded.

‘Hello, Bosco, I’m Hayley.’ She waved a hand at him.

‘Good evening, Miss.’

‘I bet Bosco has seen some action, whisking in your Wish Women,’ Hayley said as they entered the lobby. ‘This looks just like your offices. But where’s the Christmas tree? This is so bare.’

Everything was chrome and grey, modern, functional but a little bit dull. There was nothing to suggest the holidays were fast approaching.

Oliver pressed the button for the elevator. ‘It’s a multicultural building. Some of the other residents don’t celebrate Christmas so we don’t have a tree.’ He reached for her hand. ‘FYI – that’s another abbreviation right there – I don’t bring my Wish Women here. And don’t call them that. They aren’t a thing.’

‘Double W I think the Twitter hashtag is. Rumour has it that particular edition of the
New York Times
sold big.’

‘You’re making it up,’ he said as the elevator doors opened.

‘Maybe, but it’s never going to get old,’ Hayley said, stepping into the lift with him.

‘I think you’re forgetting the rather amazing fashion show I took you to tonight.’

‘Which could only have been bettered by having Adam Levine come and sing in the interval.’ She sighed. ‘But I did meet Emo Taragucci, in the flesh, actually there for me to squeeze,’ Hayley said, hugging herself.

Oliver smiled. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed the evening.’

‘It isn’t over yet, is it?’ she asked. She watched the numbers of the floors on the display going up slowly and she looked to Oliver, a smile playing on her lips. ‘Ever done it in a lift before?’

‘What?’

She shifted closer towards him. ‘I said, have you ever done it in a lift before?’

She watched him swallow and finally catch on to what she was suggesting.

‘I have a five-million dollar penthouse on the twenty-fifth floor and you want to do it in the elevator.’

She licked her lips. ‘I don’t know if I can wait twenty more floors.’ She unbuttoned her coat and shrugged it off her shoulders, then, slowly, she lifted the hem of her red dress, dragging it up her body revealing stockings and her best black silk and lace panties and matching bra.

‘Jeez, Hayley, what are you doing to me?’

‘Looking a little overdressed over there, Clark.’

I
n one move
he lost his coat and in the second and third he unfastened his buttons and ripped his shirt away from his body.

‘I knew you were trouble, the very second I set eyes on you by that fire exit,’ he breathed. He claimed her mouth with his, pushing her body up against the mirrored wall. She tasted of chocolate and coffee and that something he could never quite put his finger on. He was pretty sure it involved vanilla but right now all he could taste was lust – whether it was his or hers he couldn’t tell.

She wrenched her lips from his. ‘You knew
I
was trouble? I think that’s a bit rich.’

‘Stop talking!’ he ordered, his mouth at her neckline, his tongue tracing the length of her shoulder.

‘Get these things off,’ Hayley said, her hands at the belt of his trousers.

He stood up straight, his hands on top of hers. He held her fingers as she weaved the leather through the buckle, his eyes on her, wanting to watch her expression and feed off of it. They lowered his zipper together, he slipped a condom from his pocket and then she took over, yanking at the material so he had no choice but to kick his trousers off and away.

He appraised her, her chest rising and falling, her nipples tight against the silk of her bra. The condom packet between his lips, he reached forward with both hands, looping her back and unfastening the clasp until the fabric slackened and he pulled her bra forward, letting the straps slip down her arms and off.

Voluptuous breasts greeted him and the kick of arousal stung. He wanted to touch her, taste her, own every inch of her. He held off, just watching. She slipped her fingers inside her panties and he watched her, teasing, toying, easing her hand backward and forward.

‘God, you are so hot.’ He removed his jockey shorts, made sure he was safe and took a half step nearer to her.

She slipped her panties off and pressed her back against the mirrors that lined the lift, pulling him with her. She kissed his mouth, the edge of her teeth nipping his bottom lip. This was driving him crazy. He had to get inside her. He had to take her now.

He slammed his hand on the elevator buttons, hoping it would buy them some time and then he lifted her up in his arms, his hands clasping her buttocks as his mouth dived into hers.

A gasp left her as he lowered her down so he could slip inside. The heat that met him intensified every ounce of passion he was already full of.

‘Do it,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Move me.’

H
ayley was aching all over
, trembling, itching for a need to be fulfilled. All the flirtatious banter, the teasing, the kissing in the snow, no one had ever got to her like this man had. This complex billionaire no one seemed to understand except her. She saw him. All of him. His worries and concerns were so similar to hers. They were like two parts of the same Christmas cracker. And right about now she was ready to be pulled apart.

She braced herself against the wall of the lift, her hands on his chest as he made love to her, fast and urgent, then slowly, thrusting long and deep, until she dug her nails into him and begged for release.

She kissed his mouth, looking into his eyes, wanting to watch as he came apart, as he pulled her to pieces with him. And then it was happening, it was like being catapulted through the air at a million miles an hour and not knowing where you were going to land. Stars pricked her eyes as Oliver called out, his hair damp between her fingers, his skin shining with perspiration. Tiny pleasure sensors were sending happy signals to her every part. She didn’t want to let him go. Then one of her legs buckled.

‘Ow, cramp,’ Hayley said, shifting a little but not wanting the connection to end.

Oliver kissed her lips. ‘You OK?’

She nodded, putting a hand to his cheek. ‘You?’

‘Spent,’ he responded, still catching his breath.

She laughed. ‘A billionaire with nothing in reserve.’

‘I didn’t say I had nothing. I just think maybe a change of location could be in order.’

‘Ah, the infamous red room. Finally I’m going to see it?’ Hayley asked as he stroked her hair back from her face.

‘You really think I have one?’

‘I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.’

H
ayley opened
her eyes and blinked at the unfamiliar shapes in the half-light, trying to recall where she was.
Oliver’s penthouse
. A fuzzy, furry feeling spread through her as she remembered the previous night. The fashion show, the lovely meal, the lift … the balcony overlooking Central Park. Now, here she was, wrapped up in Egyptian cotton feeling like she could conquer the world. She turned onto her side, facing Oliver. There was just one little thing eating away at her. The McArthur Foundation fundraiser. She should tell him she was organising it.
Not
telling him was virtually lying to him. But she knew how it would make him feel. If she told him, it would impact on what they had together and she didn’t want that. The time she spent with him was just about them. It didn’t involve Angel or Michel or Drummond Global or Cynthia. She didn’t want to burst that happy bubble just yet, especially after last night.

She mussed his tawny hair and watched him open his eyes.

‘Good morning,’ she greeted. ‘What do you have for breakfast round here?’

‘God, Hayley, you must have one hell of a metabolism.’ He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. ‘Either that or you’re going to just wake up twenty stone one day when it catches up with you.’

‘And if I did?’ She asked, looking cross.

He smiled. ‘Obviously I’d love you just the same but …’ He stopped. ‘By “love” I meant, you know, care about you, as a person and …’

‘You love me!’ Hayley exclaimed, bouncing her body on the bed. ‘Oh I’m going to be Mrs Drummond! Bosco, the doorman! Send for Emo Taragucci to design my wedding gown! Book Romario’s for the reception and order Maroon 5! We’re going to get married!’ she shrieked.

Oliver shook his head as he watched her theatrical performance. ‘You’re crazy.’

‘Your #DoubleWs will be devastated. I might have to hire personal security and carry mace.’

‘God help anyone who tries to attack you.’

‘What’s for breakfast?’ she said, diving over him and knocking him back into the pillows.

I
t was
like his chest had been hit with a steel bar. Oliver couldn’t reply. He shifted his body into a full sitting position and tried to take a breath. It wasn’t coming.

‘Oliver?’ Hayley asked, pulling the sheet up around her and looking straight at him. ‘Wow, did I hit you that hard? I obviously don’t know my own strength, Man of Steel.’

This couldn’t happen now. He tried to raise his chest but everything was compacting down like someone had placed a railway sleeper on his ribcage. The beads of sweat were at his forehead already and his vision was starting to blur. This wasn’t like the last time. This was much, much worse. He fought to regain control.

‘Oliver?’ Hayley said again. There was concern in her voice.

‘I’m OK,’ he breathed out, the words scratching and jarring.

‘Oliver, please. You’re scaring me.’

Her eyes were wide and pricked with tears as she stared at him. She reached a hand out for his and he moved it away. He needed to manage this on his own. He didn’t want to let this touch her.

‘Really, I’m OK,’ he whispered through dry lips. His body’s reaction was continuing to tell him the exact opposite.

‘You’re not OK. I can
see
you’re not OK. Tell me what to do or I’m going to call an ambulance.’

He didn’t want to die. He especially didn’t want to die now, after a night that had meant so much. There was no denying he was falling hard for her and maybe this was telling him he was a fool to even think of it. What good was a dying man to her? What good was a dying man to anyone?

His heart galloped in response, pulsing the blood through his veins until it was all he could hear in his head. This was really happening, right here, right now, when he was probably the happiest he had been since his father died.

He used his arms to push himself to the edge of the bed, trying his best to shut out the pain and Hayley’s piteous scrutiny. He needed to get up. Somehow he needed to find the strength.

‘Right, that’s it,’ Hayley said, grabbing his robe and wrapping it around herself. ‘This is crazy. I’m calling an ambulance.’

‘Hayley, please …’ The words barely made it from his mouth. ‘Please, just go.’

‘Go?! Are you completely insane? I’m not going anywhere.’ She picked up her sequinned bag and pulled her phone from inside. He watched her thumb move across the screen.
911
.

His throat was starting to get tight now and his head was filling up like someone was tipping liquid cotton candy inside then letting it grow and morph. The pressure in his chest was unbearable. It would be easy to give in. Just let his body have its own way, sink into the pain, give in to it all. No more worrying, no more stress, just peace. As he tried to get up from the bed he felt his eyes start to close.

‘Hello? Yes, I need an ambulance … I need an ambulance now.’

Oliver was in the same room and attached to the same machine he’d been strapped to the time Clara had accompanied him here. Hayley was sat where Clara had been sat but instead of spinning the beads on a statement necklace she was chewing at her nails. They’d been left alone but he didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? Now everything was complicated. Ruined.

‘Didn’t think the morning after the night before I’d end up in the hospital,’ Hayley remarked. ‘I’ve done police stations before but never hospitals.’

‘You should go,’ Oliver said, his voice tight.

‘Why do you keep saying that?’ Hayley asked. ‘What is it you’re not telling me?’

Her voice told him he’d hit a nerve. How was he going to play this? Where was he going to go with this situation now? Last night he had had one of the best nights of his life, it had felt as close to real as he was ever going to get. Not just physical attraction but warmth, tenderness. The hot sex in the elevator had been one thing but when they’d come together on his balcony overlooking Central Park she’d come apart so completely, so honestly. What the hell had he been thinking? He had absolutely nothing to give her. He was like a convict on death row, biding time, just waiting to die. He had made this situation. He had let himself care. He had let
her
care. He’d had no right to do that.
Asking
her to leave now was too late. He’d just have to
make
her and he knew exactly how he was going to do that. However much it would hurt him it was his own stupid fault.

He put his hands to his chest and ripped a sucker from it.

‘What are you doing? Don’t do that,’ Hayley said, her jaw dropping.

‘Any second now a very attractive Dr Khan is going to walk through that door.’ He ripped another sucker away. ‘She’s going to look me up and down and tell me I have stress and I work too hard.’ Another sucker came off. ‘She’s told me this week already.’

He reached over the cabinet for his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

‘Is that what it is then?’ Hayley asked. ‘Stress?’

‘So they say,’ Oliver answered.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ She pushed some errant hair back behind her ear. ‘You really scared me in the apartment. I thought you were … having a heart attack or something.’

He wanted to laugh now. Make light of it. Tell her she was being ridiculous. He didn’t have the energy.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, sliding himself off the bed.

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m still breathing. Today must be my lucky day.’ He used every last ounce of reserve energy he had to stand straight. The muscles in his abdomen rippled in response but he kept his expression neutral.

‘Well, are you going to go back home? I can call us a cab,’ Hayley suggested, getting to her feet.

‘I can call a car,’ he responded, taking the pulse monitor from his finger. ‘You should get back to Angel.’

‘Right, yeah, I should probably do that.’

Hayley’s tone had his stomach squeezing hard. This was the right thing to do. The only thing. He gritted his teeth together.

‘Have I done something wrong?’ she asked.

He couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see the hurt expression he knew she would be wearing. What was he doing? This was practically killing him. He shook his head. ‘No.’

‘Then what the hell is going on here?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Oliver, last night I thought …’

‘Listen, Hayley, last night, it was fun and …’

That had been overly flippant. He didn’t want to hurt her. But maybe hurting her was what it would take.

‘
Fun
.’

She had spat the word out. Those three letters felt so sharp. Each letter spiked his insides like a shard of ice. He looked at her then, out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t realise now but he was doing it for her and she would one day see that. Because the second he had started to care, instead of arranging a date, he should have backed right off. Now, at the hospital, after this latest dramatic and unwelcome visit … he wasn’t prepared to put her through anything like that again. And the one thing he could guarantee was there
would
be a next time.

‘I’ve got a lot of business stuff going on at the moment so …’

‘Of course you do,’ Hayley said. She got to her feet, stuffing the clutch bag under her arm. ‘And business is so important when seconds ago you were wired up to a heart machine.’

‘Hayley …’

‘No, there’s … something wrong with you … in the head. I have no idea what it is and I don’t want to know.’ He watched her wet her lips. ‘I thought last night … you were someone different. The guy I’ve got to know away from the captain of industry mantle and the power suit. The one who makes me laugh, the one who fights me for the last word.’

Her words were hitting every part of him like tiny poison darts sent to deliver a killer dose. He wanted to stop her. He wanted to smother her mouth with his and kiss her like he had last night. Show her how much she meant to him already. But he couldn’t do it. It would be a selfish act and he had to be more unselfish than ever in this situation.

‘But now I know it was just an act and I’m still just as naïve as I was all those years ago when I fell for the charms of another man.’ She sighed. ‘But at least he didn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t.’

He swallowed. She couldn’t have been more right about that. Not even
he
knew who he was. He had an idea of who he
wanted
to be, but with time running out did it even matter anymore?

‘There’s something you should know,’ Hayley stated, flicking her hair back and adjusting her bag under her shoulder.

He looked at her directly then, giving her his full attention.

‘I’m helping your mother organise the McArthur Foundation fundraiser.’ A sigh left her. ‘I didn’t tell you because it’s only just happened, quite spontaneously, and I knew that’s where your mother had asked you to speak and how much you loathed it. And I thought if I kept
that
and
this
completely separate it could somehow not collide together and I could make it work.’ She sniffed. ‘But now I realise there is no
this
and perhaps I should have focussed on more of
that
and right now I definitely know I should have run the other way the second you asked me what my wish was.’

She was organising the McArthur Foundation fundraiser? His chest tightened all over again. Why would she be doing that? And she
knew
his mother? It gave him all the fuel he needed to hold onto his clenched jaw and his decision to end this.

A tear escaped her eye and began to slowly slide its way down her cheek. ‘Goodbye, Clark.’

He watched her turn towards the door then she walked through it, disappearing from sight and slipping right out of his life.