Something From Tiffany’s (48 page)

‘Ethan?’ she gasped, her eyes wide. ‘What are you doing here? And Daisy too. Great to see you, but what . . . I think there’s some mistake.’ She looked back towards the kitchen, uncertainly. ‘I mean, my waitress said a customer was complaining.’

He looked at her, his handsome face solemn and unreadable. ‘Yes. As I explained, I’m not at all happy with this bread.’ She was taken aback by his serious tone, but noticed that Daisy wouldn’t look at her and seemed to be trying not to smile.

‘OK. Well, I’m very sorry about that,’ she replied automatically, trying to figure out why he was being so formal. ‘What seems to be the problem?’

This felt very surreal. After everything that had happened, why were Ethan and Daisy back in Dublin at all, let alone complaining about bread from Stromboli’s bakery?

‘It’s not fresh,’ he said, pointing to the sourdough,
her
sourdough.

‘Of course it’s fresh,’ she replied defensively. And Terri should know too, as she’d spent the best part of this morning baking it.

Daisy started to giggle and Terri felt as though she was the butt of some weird joke.

‘Ask her, Dad!’ she blurted, and then glanced quickly at her father as if she’d said something out of turn.

Terri looked at the little girl, wondering what was going on. Ask her what?

‘Well,’ Ethan began, and there was a smile in his voice, ‘I was wondering if there was any chance you might make a fresh batch.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Perhaps . . . just for me?’ he added meaningfully, and Terri’s heart skipped a beat as she immediately realised exactly what he was referring to.

A woman who’ll bake him bread.

And more importantly, a woman who understood what he was trying to say.

She gulped.

‘You want . . . me . . . to bake . . . for you?’ she asked, her voice robotic as she tried to figure out if this was real or if she was imagining things.

‘Yes, and for Daisy too. If you’d like to, that is.’ Ethan’s voice was gentle and Terri raised her gaze to look at him. His blue eyes were soft and hopeful as they met hers. ‘I know my being in London might be a problem, but I’m sure we’ll find ways to keep it fresh.’

Terri honestly felt like she was in some kind of weird dream. Nothing was making sense any more. She knew what he was saying, knew exactly what he was asking, yet it was the very last thing she’d expected. This kind of thing didn’t happen to her; she hadn’t shared her life with anyone for eight long years.

She stared back at Ethan, not sure where this had come from, or where it was heading; but whatever it was, she already knew she liked it.

Smiling at the man she knew she’d already fallen for, Terri gave him the only answer she could think of. ‘I’ll be happy to bake you two all the bread you want. But I must warn you,’ she added lightly, ‘there’ll be no surprises this time. With me, what you see is what you get.’

‘And it’s exactly what we want,’ Ethan replied gently, reaching for her hand.

Epilogue

Here he was, back in New York again on Christmas Eve. It felt weird – a bit surreal really – but at the same time it felt completely right too.

Hard to believe that it was only a year since he’d last been here. It felt almost like a lifetime, considering. Everything had changed; perhaps most importantly,
he
had changed. No more running around chasing his tail and trying to keep everything going. Life was much simpler now, much more easy-going.

And it was all down to her.

How had it taken him so long to see what was in front of him? That the key to being happy wasn’t about all those things he’d thought were so important before, but about finding the person who was, as little Daisy joked, ‘the right fit’.

He knew he was unbelievably lucky to have found her at all; but even luckier not to lose her, after all the craziness that had happened in between.

OK, so it had taken him a while to see the wood for the trees, but once he had seen it there was no stopping him.

He paused for a moment and stood back, letting the throngs of passers-by on the street go round him.

He heard a few muted sighs and some not-so-muted mutters of annoyance as people manoeuvred past him, trying to move quickly in the freezing cold. The air was sharp, the temperature in the minuses, and there was a scattering of snowflakes in the sky.

A loud laugh from nearby startled him out of his reverie, and he noticed some tourists taking pictures. A woman piled her dark hair up into a high bun on top of her head and put on a big black pair of sunglasses. ‘There! Do I look like Audrey?’ she giggled to her friend.

The distraction helped shift his focus back onto what he was here to do, and taking a deep breath he moved towards the rotating doors.

‘Good afternoon, sir, and welcome to Tiffany’s,’ a man in a top hat greeted him when he was inside.

‘Thanks.’ He smiled in return and quickly glanced around.

It was mad to be back here again after everything that had happened, especially given the luck that his last visit had brought him. But at the same time, how could he go anywhere else?

This time would be different, though. This time he knew exactly what he wanted.

He gulped when he thought again about the money side of it, but it would be a fair exchange.

He’d put much more thought into it this time, and was going to get her something that suited her, something she could wear while at work, or wear anywhere really. He just hoped that she
wanted
to wear it.

Half an hour later, he reappeared on Fifth Avenue, clutching the little Tiffany’s shopping bag like his life depended on it. The snow was falling heavier now and he gave a little laugh as he watched the sea of yellow taxis snaking along the road.

This time, he was taking no chances.

He turned right and headed towards the park. It must be strange for her being here too; she had taken some convincing about the trip, and he supposed he could understand that too. But if all went well, maybe they could make a Christmas visit to New York a new tradition? He shook his head. There he was, getting ahead of himself again, he thought ruefully, instead of just seeing how things went.

Heading into Central Park, he walked slowly along the side of the lake towards the Wollman ice rink, where they’d agreed to meet. From his vantage point he could see that she was already there, standing off to the side a little.

As he approached, she looked up and smiled at him. ‘How incredible is this? Snow on Christmas Eve . . .’ Then her words trailed off as her gaze dropped to his side. ‘What have you been up to?’ she asked, her eyes widening.

He chuckled, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. ‘Just a little bit of last-minute shopping. For you.’

‘I don’t believe it! For me?’ She stared up at him. ‘Well, as long as it’s only something small.’

‘Oh it’s something small, all right.’ He brought out the little blue box and, without warning, dropped to one knee. ‘I know how big on tradition you are, so . . .’

‘What? What are you doing?’ she gasped, her expression one of complete bafflement. ‘Don’t tell me that’s . . . You can’t afford—’

‘I sold the bike,’ he said, and at his words something changed in her expression.

‘What? No! Gary, you love that bike.’

‘Yeah, but I love you even more, and I figured that all this – the trip back here, a return to the scene of the crime – was as good a way as any to convince you.’

‘There really was no need. You know we’ve got past all that now and . . .’ Her eyes sparkled and her words were giddy. ‘You really sold the bike – just for me?’

‘Yep.’

Sean and the boys thought he was mad, but Gary didn’t care so much about what the boys thought any more. Rachel was the most important thing in his life, and he wanted to make sure she knew he didn’t take her forgiveness for granted. It had taken her a long time to let him back into her life after what had happened, and now he wanted her to know exactly how much she meant to him. And, more than that, he wanted to give her the proposal she deserved.

‘So what do you think, Rachel?’ he asked. ‘Will you marry me?’

‘You know, Daisy would just love this,’ she laughed. ‘Just wait till I tell her and Terri, and Ethan too. They won’t be able to
believe
—’

‘Rach?’ The ground was damp, his joints were starting to strain a bit from crouching and people were staring, but Gary didn’t care. All he was interested in at that moment was her answer. ‘You’re killing me here. Yes or no?’

Rachel looked at the ring box in Gary’s palm, before her gaze rested on his face.

She shook her head. ‘Gary Knowles,’ she said, smiling, ‘by now, you of all people should know that a girl would
never
say no to something from Tiffany’s.’