The Charm Bracelet (34 page)

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Authors: MELISSA HILL

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‘Because Mom coddled you too much by always doing it for you? No surprise, you’re hopeless.’ He chuckled and tapped Jeff on the shoulder. ‘Turn around … ’

Moments later, Jeff’s tie was perfect, compliments of his son. He admired the handiwork in the mirror. ‘Not bad. Where did you learn to do that?’

‘Where do you think?’ Greg asked.

‘Thank God you inherited more of her genes than you did mine.’             

‘Oh, I think I probably did pretty OK from both sides.’

‘How are you feeling Dad? Are you absolutely sure about coming along to this thing tonight?’ He knew today’s date as well as the significance of the evening would be weighing on Jeff’s mind – especially when this would be the first time they would be attending the annual New Year’s Eve ball without Cristina.

His father raised a smile. ‘
Don’t worry about me kid, I’m fine. Anyway, your mother would kill me if I even thought about giving it a miss. The St Jude’s benefit has always been one of her favourites.’

‘I know.’

‘You seem a bit distracted yourself,’ Jeff commented as the two left the penthouse fully bedecked in classic tuxedos. Greg punched the elevator button, and father and son waited for the doors to open.

‘I just wish that the woman who found Mom’s bracelet would get in touch. It’s been days now.’

Greg chewed ever so briefly on one of his nails. Despite leaving his number with that awful teenager, he’d heard nothing from Holly or the owner of the vintage store and it worried him. Didn’t Father Mike say that they were decent, dependable women? Yet Holly no longer worked at the store and her boss had ignored his request to call him back. Greg was worried now that something had happened in the meantime, that he was too late, and maybe they had indeed sold the bracelet on to a customer. After all, who knew how long they’d be looking to give it back? With these places, there might be some rule that after a certain length of time trying to contact the owner, they just give up and put it out for sale. And who could blame them – if the bracelet had been amongst items his mother had requested be donated or sold on, then they were perfectly entitled to do so.

He tried to think back to his brief encounter with Holly on the way in to the gallery that time. How frustrating to think that their paths had already crossed? Neither one of them could have realised the importance of that brief meeting.

‘I’m sure she’ll get in touch. Don’t forget it’s still the holiday season and everything’s a bit crazy. She sounds like a good person – going to all that trouble to try and get it back to us,’ Jeff smiled.

The elevator pinged and both men got inside. Greg shrugged. ‘I don’t kno
w
maybe she just has too much time on her hands.’ But he was secretly impressed that this Holly seemed to have used the charms themselves to try and track the owner down. Cristina would be tickled pink by that, seeing as she always joked that the bracelet was a roadmap of her life.

             

 

 

‘Your carriage awaits, my lady,’ Eileen smiled, as she watched her daughter elegantly descend the steps outside the apartment building, Kate and Danny standing alongside her at the doorway.

Fully bedecked in the Anna Bowery Givenchy, Holly looked as though she had stepped out of another era. She had pulled her hair up into a loose chignon, which highlighted her elegant neck and showed off the bejewelled comb that expertly complemented the 1950s style. The dress sparkled and showcased Holly’s attractive figure while the opera-length gloves that she had discovered in a drawer gave a nod to the past parties that this dress had surely seen.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, she blushed. ‘I can’t believe you hired a car to take me there, Mom. I could have just caught a cab.’

‘That dress, and you, deserve better than any old yellow cab,’ said an earnest Eileen.

Holly bit her lip. ‘Well thank you, I appreciate it. So I guess I’m ready.’

‘You look awesome, Mom,’ Danny smiled.

‘Why thank you, young man. Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving you tonight?’

‘Nope, Nanna says we can watch Jay-Z. He’s performing tonight on TV.’

More like Jay-Z was sipping champagne in a mansion in Beverly Hills, Holly thought knowingly. Danny didn’t need to know that the majority of ‘New Year’s Eve Live Telecasts’ were filmed months ago in studios.

‘Don’t worry about us; we’ll have lots of fun,’ Eileen said, putting an arm around her grandson’s shoulder. ‘And you, my dear, enjoy yourself. Don’t even attempt to come home too early.’

Holly reflected on how times had changed … half her life ago, Eileen would have been telling her not to get home too late.

‘We’ll see. I might well be home in no time watching Jay-Z in my pj’s with you guys.’

‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Kate said ominously.

‘Yeah Mom, go out, have fun,’ Danny encouraged.

Eileen patted her grandson’s head. ‘Yes, please have a good time. Just go and enjoy yourself. Regardless of whether or not you find the bracelet’s owner.’

Holly looked down at the full tulle of her skirt and swished it, once again hypnotised by its crystals. Maybe she did deserve a little fun.

‘Keep in mind, Holly, that no one probably ever had to tell Anna Bowery to have fun in that dress,’ Kate called out. ‘Time to do it justice.’

Giving the three of them a final hug goodbye, Holly got into the waiting black town car.

The trio on the steps waved after her as the town car pulled from the kerb and drove slowly up the street, before a moment later turning north in the direction of Fifth Avenue.

 

 

The Cadillac that Greg and Jeff were in pulled up to the kerb and Greg stared intently at the mass of people who were arriving for the hospital benefit, the majority of them being dropped off in sleek black cars much like the one that they were in right now.

Greg scanned faces in the crowd. Some he knew from his mother’s work on various other charities, as well as their past attendance at this event. Others he didn’t know personally, but recognised them because of their penchant for appearing on Page Six of the
Times
. Still, most of the people he didn’t recognise at all.                            

The car rolled forward in line and then stopped. Greg threw open the door of the car, not waiting for the kerbside valet to open it for him, and stepped out.

Jeff followed suit, straightening his jacket.

Father and son walked up the granite steps at the front of the building and Greg felt impressed, as he always did, by the grand façade. A regal lion statue sat to his right, a silent and noble sentry, seemingly unimpressed by all the glam and glitter of the people who strode around him. Corinthian columns soared overhead and Greg thought back to what his mother had said last year as they walked up these same stairs together.

‘It’s comforting to know that people still have it in them to build temples to knowledge. These places will still be here, long after we are gone.’

As Greg and Jeff neared the entryway of the building, both men reached into the breast pocket of their jackets and extracted their tickets to the event, ready to hand them to the striking blonde woman who was standing at the door, checking off names on a clipboard.

She wore a figure-hugging dress that looked as if it might have come out of Marilyn Monroe’s closet, and Greg took note of her startlingly high gold platform shoes. She was practically as tall as him in them – he never could understand how women had the ability to totter around on six-inch heels. He would definitely fall on his face if faced with the challenge.

‘Good evening,’ the blonde woman said with crisp efficiency.

‘Happy New Year,’ Jeff replied. ‘The name is Matthews, both of them.’

The young woman consulted her list and checked off the names. ‘I have a total of four for your party. Will Cristina and Karen be following?’

Jeff shook his head. ‘They couldn’t make it,’ he said by means of explanation.

The blonde girl nodded. ‘Noted. Have a great evening.’

 

 

Holly swallowed hard as she took in the scene around her. Dozens of black town cars were pulling up to the kerb in front of the building and she felt a flutter of anticipation run through her stomach. She opened her small silver clutch and grabbed her lip gloss, touching up her lips. Placing the tube back in the tiny evening bag, she once again verified that the bracelet was inside. It was about the twentieth time that she had checked to ensure that she hadn’t forgotten it.

Just in case.

She smoothed her skirt and glanced back out of the window. Men in tuxedos and women in stunningly beautiful evening gowns milled about outside. Some called out in greeting to one other, while others pointedly made for the entrance, eager to keep their feet on the red carpet and to get in out of the cold.

As Holly’s car pulled forward once again, and then stopped, the driver turned around.

‘Have a fantastic night, Miss. Whenever you are ready to leave, just call this number,’ he handed her a card with his direct number on it, ‘and I will come back and pick you up. Doesn’t matter what time, I’m yours for the evening.’

Holly smiled and couldn’t deny that she was tickled pink by the special treatment. ‘Of course.’ She looked at the name on the card. ‘Thank you, Douglas,’ she smiled.

‘Just call me Doug. I like it better,’ the man replied. ‘I keep
Douglas on there just for the stiffs.’ He nodded to the people who were outside the car, the people he was clearly used to driving around. ‘Doug sounds like a guy you meet at the bowling alley, you know?’

She grinned knowingly. ‘Well, I don’t know about you, Doug, but I happen to like bowling.’

‘You and me both, sister,’ he replied in his thick Brooklyn accent. ‘Now you go and have a great time.’

‘Well, I’m sort of working, but thank you.’

At that moment, the kerbside valet opened the door for Holly, and she extended a graceful leg.

‘Oh and Miss?’

Holly turned back to Doug, giving him her full attention. ‘Please … it’s just Holly.’

Doug smiled and nodded. ‘Nice dress, Holly.’

Tentatively, she made her way towards the stairs, following the lead of those around her. She’d arranged to meet Jessica at the door, but right at that moment, and wearing that dress, she didn’t feel like Holly the Help; she felt just the same as any of these glamorous people.

She glanced around, taking in the faces, wondering if any of them happened to be the bracelet owner, and at the same time recognising several of the people around her.

Wow, Mayor Bloomberg … and was that Gwyneth Paltrow? she gulped, trying her utmost not to be star-struck, otherwise she’d be useless to Jessica once she got inside.

Holly looked down at her dress and whispered to it as if it was a living thing. ‘You probably feel right at home here, don’t you?’

Then, as she ascended the steps towards the door, she reached down for her charm bracelet, seeking out a particular charm, the tiny book she’d received way back in college.

‘Nothing exciting ever happens in a library, huh?’ she said, echoing her old roommate’s words from all those years ago.

With that, Holly took a deep breath and followed the crowds inside the New York Public Library.

 

Chapter 39

 

She met Jessica in the foyer as arranged. ‘Oh, you look gorgeous! I told you the Marilyn suited you.’

‘Thanks, I’ve been getting compliments all evening actually.’ Jessica grinned and put down her clipboard. ‘I’m so excited you’re here. Thank you for offering to help me – I really appreciate it. And wow, I know I said you needed to look the part, but … ’

Holly flushed and looked at the dress, embarrassed. ‘What – it’s too much?’

‘Are you kidding me? It’s amazing – so amazing that I feel bad for setting you to work. You should be in there partying with the rest of them.’

‘Seriously, it’s wonderful but not quite my thing.’ She loosened her throw. ‘So where do you want me?’

‘Well to start …’
Jessica nodded to the rail of coats nearby. ‘There’s a room just down the hall set aside for all that. If you could just move the rails as they fill up, , that would be great. Just take care not to mess up the numbering system.’

Relieved, Holly nodded. This, she was used to. Taking note of Jessica’s directions for the makeshift cloakroom, she
wheeled away the first rail of coats, noting that the majority were heavy wool for the men, and predominately fur for the women.

Not in the least controversial for a children’s hospital benefit, but she guessed things might be different if this was in aid of an animal charity. Or would it? Again, the rich never seemed to recognise the irony in such things.

 

 

 

Greg and Jeff were making their way through the crowd. Several times they were stopped by friends and business acquaintances, people looking to say hello or express condolences over Cristina. Thankfully no one asked Greg where Karen was. He wasn’t sure if it was because news had already spread about the break-up, or because people were aware of his very public proposal and didn’t want to embarrass him about the gesture that turned out to be less than romantic.

That is, until he bumped into Margot Mead.

‘Greg! How are you? Wonderful to see you again,’ Margot gushed, reaching forward to air-kiss him. ‘Is Karen here?’ she continued, looking over his shoulder, as if expecting to see his ex bringing up the rear.

He reluctantly returned her embrace. ‘Nice to see you again too. No, I’m afraid she’s not. We aren’t actually together any more.’ He exhaled, preparing himself to go through more small talk before he could take his leave.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. Of course, I guessed something was off,’ she said conspiratorially. ‘I saw her, I believe the day after Christmas, at the Plaza. She was with some man, and well, you know, there needs to be a level of discretion, but still I was surprised … ’

Discretion my ass
, Greg thought, struggling to keep a smile on his face. Margot knew well that something was up. He knew that women like her lived for gossip, and he wasn’t going to be an active participant in spreading the goods about himself.

‘Well, it’s no surprise to me actually. But, you will have to excuse me, I see someone I must say hello to.’ Greg motioned vaguely in the direction behind Margot. He didn’t see anyone, but just didn’t want to get stuck any longer with her.

‘Oh, of course, I must go and say hello to your father. So sad about Cristina, you know – we all miss her terribly’ Margot said with some sincerity and feeling in her tone. ‘How’s everything at home? I can’t believe that just a year ago we were all here together.’

‘Thank you, yes, it’s been a long year,’ Greg said evenly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me. Happy New Year.’ Greg figured he might as well get the greetings over with, as he wasn’t planning on staying within an ass’s roar of Margot Mead or any of her dreadful society friends for the rest of the night.

Going through the crowds, he headed for the bar that had been set up and ordered a Scotch. Sipping his drink, he continued to scan the crowd.

Just then, there was a tap on his shoulder.

‘Gregorio, good to see you!’

Greg smiled, immediately recognising the distinctive Italian accent, and turned around to be met with Gennaro’s smiling face. The tan he was sporting was definitely not
Manhattan in origin.

‘Hey, have a good time in
Barbados?’

The other man looked taken aback. ‘Yes, fantastic. But how did you know?’

‘I swung by the gallery the other day and met with the wrath of Sofia. She was less than impressed about that, you know.’

‘Yes.’ Gennaro expression was sheepish. ‘Which is why I am making it up to her.’ He nodded across the room towards a dark-haired woman in a silver evening gown whom Greg immediately identified as the gallery manager. ‘I didn’t have a date for tonight, so she is happy. For the moment at least.’

Greg shook his head indulgently. ‘You’re such a dog.’

‘Don’t I know it, buddy? Best-of-breed too.’ He grinned proudly. ‘What were you doing at the gallery anyway?’

Greg filled him in on what had happened since he last saw him, and that the woman at the gallery was likely in possession of his mother’s bracelet. When he finished, Gennaro’s mouth was shaped in the form of an ‘O’.

‘Holly O’Neill? It was your mother’s bracelet that she showed me? I wish I could have known.’

‘O’Neill?’ Greg repeated. So now he had her full name. Whether or not he could do anything with the information was another matter.

Gennaro nodded. ‘Yes, thinking back, and remembering what she told me, she was trying very hard to get the bracelet back to you. She found me through a horseshoe, and when I showed her my father’s
corno
, she said it added a little more to the picture she was painting about the owner. Smart and sexy, eh?’

Greg listened intently to his friend, taking in every word.

So Holly really was trying to trace his mother back through the individual charms. That took a lot of dedication. The notion made him feel heartened, if she was putting so much time and energy into the search, that it was unlikely she’d just give up and let the bracelet be sold on to somebody else. Hopefully she identified the importance of the bracelet to Cristina in sentimental terms.

Gennaro scrunched up his face, as if trying to recall what else Holly had told him about her quest. ‘And do you know,’ he added, ‘she also mentioned that she had information about a charm related to a benefit? I think it was an egg?’

Greg nearly choked on his Scotch. ‘The egg my mom won as a prize at the Met Gallery?’

‘I don’t know about that, but I do recall her asking me if I knew a Margot …
 what was her name now?’

Greg’s pulse quickened. ‘Mead, Margot Mead. Did she definitely mention her? She’s the organiser of this event.’

‘Yes, I believe so.’

Greg couldn’t believe that Holly had made another connection. She really must have been doing everything in her power to get the bracelet back. He bit his lip.

‘Keep an eye on that Scotch for me, will you?’ he told his friend. ‘I have to go and find the woman I just tried to avoid.’

Thankfully, Margot Mead was easy to find, and was holding court in pretty much the same place as Greg had left her. However, getting through the mass of people who were surrounding her, vying for her attention, was not so easy.

Not wanting to be rude and push his way through, he looked for a way to get closer. Spotting his father, who was not more than an arm’s length away, he gently made his way to Jeff’s side.

‘Dad,’ Greg said, tapping his father’s shoulder. ‘Can you get Margot’s attention?’ he said. ‘I don’t want to butt in.’

Jeff nodded. ‘Margot? Excuse me? Margot? Could I talk to you just a moment?’

Margot turned her attention to Jeff quizzically. She looked to the woman who had been talking to her, and held up a finger.

‘Can’t get enough of me, Jeff?’ she laughed.

‘Actually, I think my son needs you.’

She turned her attention to Greg but, before she could get a word out, he launched into what he had just learned from Gennaro.

‘Margot, I need to know something. Did someone, a woman actually, recently come to you about a bracelet? Someone named Holly?’

Confusion flashed across her features. ‘I don’t think so. When you say “came to me about a bracelet”, do you mean as a gift?’

‘No, not like that. It’s just somehow … probably amongst all the upheaval … my mother’s bracelet went missing, and I think that whoever found it may have found a connection to you through one of the charms – the egg one I think.’

‘Really?’ Jeff stepped forward, interested, and Greg nodded encouragingly at him.

Margot was frowning. ‘The
diamond one? Of course I remember Cristina winning that at the Met benefit, wasn’t it? But really, I don’t recall anybody asking about anything like that, not personally anyway. I could check with my assistant though. She’d certainly remember something like that – never forgets a thing.’

‘Would you? We’d be most grateful.’

Obviously recognising the urgency in Greg’s voice, Margot continued. ‘Of course. I could do it now, if you like. Jessica, my assistant, is here.’

‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’

She pulled her iPhone out of her evening bag and quickly typed a text message.

Greg smiled at his father, hope and adrenalin surging through him.

This was good; this was really good.

 

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