A Perfect Proposal (13 page)

Several young men dressed in Armani suits were hovering round the entrance. Bouncers or doormen? Or were the two things the same? Sophie had no time to reach a conclusion before they’d flocked about her and ushered her into the building, opening the door, saying hello and wishing her a pleasant evening.

Once inside an equally stylish woman came up to her and asked if she could help.

Sure she was going to be either ushered out again or shown to the service area, Sophie said, ‘Good evening, I’m meeting Luke Winchester?’

‘Oh yes. Mr Winchester isn’t here yet but if you follow Carla, she’ll show you to his usual table.’

‘Mr Winchester’s usual table’ was on the top floor, Sophie discovered, having joined Carla in a very fast lift, which got her there in seconds but left part of her on the ground floor.

Sophie tripped after Carla, wishing she’d practised walking, and followed her through a large area full of tables and chairs. As they made their way between them, Sophie spotted an open fireplace where what appeared to be real logs crackled merrily. She caught a glimpse of two pizza ovens and at least two bars before Carla stopped at a table that looked out over Central Park and the city beyond.

‘Wow!’ said Sophie. ‘What an amazing view!’ All of Manhattan seemed spread out before her. Everything sparkled; every building seemed outlined with light. It was magical.

‘You can see why it’s Mr Winchester’s favourite spot,’ Carla agreed. ‘And you should see it when it’s decorated for Christmas. The day after Thanksgiving, the lights go up and it’s a fairy land.’ She paused. ‘Now, can I get you something to drink?’

Sophie was about to refuse but then said, ‘A white-wine spritzer, please.’ Drinking it would give her something to do with her hands. She was feeling a little nervous now she was here. She suspected Luke’s wanting to ‘get to know her’ also meant checking her out.

A waiter appeared from nowhere and put a coaster, a napkin and a bowl of nuts on the table. She was about to sample the nuts when she remembered something she’d heard about beer nuts being tested and seven different samples of urine being found on them. This was caused by
men not washing their hands after they’d been to the loo. Would this apply here? Would the clientele be properly brought up? Or would the Thursday House throw away any uneaten nuts? She sighed and decided to risk it.

She was just wishing she’d brought a book or magazine or something when a party of four young women came in: variations on a theme by Paris Hilton; tiny skirts, precipitous shoes and enough bling to furnish a medium-sized jeweller’s. They seated themselves at the table behind Sophie so while she could no longer admire their flawless fake bakes or wonder if they’d had ‘work’ done to their ski-jump noses or self-supporting breasts, she could now eavesdrop without being noticed.

‘So tell me, Kelly,’ said one. ‘Why have we chosen this particular table?’

There was amusement in her voice which had a tone and accent Sophie recognised from
Clueless
– one of her favourite films. Sophie stopped worrying about being bored. She sipped her drink and began to relax.

‘You know quite well,’ her friend replied, equally cool. ‘It’s for the view.’

‘Oh,’ said a third. ‘It’s not because a certain bachelor who must be due to come back on the market just about now sits here?’

‘I’m not sure if you’ve been married, even if you’re now divorced, you’re ever described as a bachelor again.’ There was a languorous sigh. ‘Which is a shame.’

‘It is a shame that Luke Winchester has been married before – it means his wealth has been diminished – but otherwise, honey, no one is perfect. If that’s his only flaw—’

‘You are shameless!’

Just then, a waiter appeared and while they were ordering drinks, Sophie was able to consider the fact that Luke had been married before. If he’d had to pay a very large divorce
settlement it might make him wary of women, which could explain why he was so weird about her and Matilda. Now Sophie sighed. These young women were so cynical about marriage. They could only be about the same age as she was, but they seemed so world-weary. And although they were perfect to look at, they seemed older. She thought it likely they would go on looking the same for years until one year the age they looked would coincide with the age they were. At the moment they seemed twenty going on thirty-six, but definitely on purpose.

‘Well, I can’t believe we’re stalking him,’ drawled another, having taken a sip of a no-doubt highly sophisticated something. ‘It is
so
childish.’

‘But so fun! My mother will be thrilled if I meet him. She’s been planning my wedding since I was six.’

‘Since when did you care about what your mother wants?’

‘Well, I suppose I’ve been kind of planning it too.’ There was a tinkle of laughter, possibly indicating she was not alone in this.

‘And Luke
is
the most eligible bachelor in New York,’ said the one planning her wedding. ‘I need a rich bridegroom. That is why we’re here.’

‘I’m not sure he’s got enough money left after his divorce.’

‘Does he have a Lear? I don’t think he does.’ It sounded as if this lack could knock him off that top spot for eligible men as far as this particular young woman was concerned. ‘Commercial flights are so boring.’

‘A Gulfstream, honey. A Lear is only for short hops.’

More laughter. Sophie sat there riveted, looking out at Manhattan twinkling before her to disguise the fact that she was eavesdropping, although they clearly hadn’t spotted the ‘mystery’ girl sitting at Luke Winchester’s table. Since she was not quite up to their immaculate standards she was no doubt invisible to them.

‘There’s absolutely no evidence that the credit crunch has hit the Winchester empire,’ said one.

‘You’re so obsessed with money,’ complained another. ‘Don’t you want to marry Luke because he’s so cute-looking?’

‘He’ll get all his grandmother’s money when she dies,’ went on the one who’d know what sort of jet the family had. ‘She’s really, like, old.’

Although young herself, Sophie didn’t share the notion that anyone over thirty was facing death. Matilda didn’t seem all that old. Anyone could have a funny turn, after all. She could go on for years. Cheered by this thought, she took another nut from the bowl in front of her.

‘Do you think we should be thinking about marriage yet?’ asked one of the girls, who seemed less comfortable with the conversation. ‘I mean, there is more to life.’

There was a short silence while the group considered this revolutionary idea.

There was a sigh from one. ‘You can’t spend your whole life shopping and it kind of gets it over? You know? You’re not having to constantly be on the lookout for eligible males, once you’re married.’

‘Although it didn’t stop Luke’s first wife …’

‘Maybe Luke is boring in the sack.’

‘Nah-huh.’ This was denied by someone who obviously had inside information. ‘He likes his women bright, apparently.’

‘Which is why he’ll like us. I’m very bright.’

‘And very modest! Do you keep your SAT scores in your purse?’

This created more laughter. ‘Not in this purse, sweetheart, they’d push it all out of shape.’

‘Whatever, I think he’ll be a tough one to hook. Apparently he’s not keen on commitment. A girlfriend of my sister’s
went out with him. She had her dress designer all primed, silk ordered, but when he found out, he was off to LA in a second.’

‘She should never have let him find that out!’

‘Yeah, but weddings take so long to arrange! If you waited until the guy actually asked you to marry him, you’d never get it done in time!’

A gale of perfectly honed laughter greeted this. Sophie didn’t know if she’d just heard a truth universally acknowledged in the world in which these girls lived, or a perfectly ridiculous statement.

‘Are we going to get more drinks?’

Sophie could imagine French-manicured fingers waggling to get the attention of the waiter who must have been waiting for the call. She was just trying to work out if the cocktails they were ordering were alcoholic or ‘innocent’ when she saw someone approaching her table and realised it was Luke. She shot to her feet a second before she realised she should have stayed sitting down, cool and sophisticated.

‘Good evening, Sophie,’ he said, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘You look lovely.’ He sounded slightly surprised.

‘Thank you. It’s the dress I was wearing at the private view the other night.’

She wasn’t quite sure why she said this but it may have been something to do with the young women sitting behind them, who were suspiciously silent now.

‘Yes, I realise that.’ Luke still seemed a little bewildered. ‘I’ve never – I mean, I didn’t know girls wore …’

‘… dresses more than once?’ The girls at the table behind her had given her a bit of valuable insight.

He nodded.

‘Well, they do. At least I do.’ Then Sophie realised he was
waiting for her to sit down before he could and found herself wrong-footed by his good manners. None of her boyfriends in England would have even realised they were supposed to behave like this, let alone actually done it. She sat down and he took the chair opposite.

‘What are you drinking?’ He glanced down at her now empty glass. ‘Would you like some champagne?’

‘Oh yes,’ said Sophie, thinking she needed more Dutch courage than another spritzer would supply. ‘I definitely would.’

The party at the table behind them were still strangely quiet.

The waiter appeared without Luke actually doing anything to summon him and he placed the order.

‘Are we celebrating anything?’ asked Sophie after a bottle of champagne appeared, as if it had been waiting for the call, and the waiter poured it.

‘Not particularly, but my grandmother said I was to be nice to you.’

‘Oh. So if she hadn’t … ?’

‘Tap water.’ He said it without even a flicker of a smile and it took Sophie several agonised seconds to realise he was joking. Nerves made her laugh more than the joke warranted; it wasn’t very funny.

‘Here’s to your first visit to New York, Sophie,’ said Luke a few seconds later and raised his glass.

‘Thank you.’ Sophie couldn’t think of anything to toast in reply so just sipped her drink.

There was a long silence. The girls behind them were also silent, either unable to think of anything neutral to say, or anxious not to miss anything.

‘This is a little awkward,’ said Luke at last.

Sophie felt the same, only she’d have said ‘very awkward’. This man had invited her for a drink, ostensibly to get to
know her better, and now wasn’t saying anything. ‘Can I help? Make it less awkward?’

Luke sighed. ‘Well, you could suddenly discover you had other plans for Thanksgiving, but my grandmother is determined you’re to spend it with us. I’m resigned to it.’

‘Why don’t you want me to come? Matilda has plenty of room, surely?’ He had tried to put her off at the café, now she was determined to get to the bottom of his reticence.

‘Yes, she has plenty of room.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘It’s hard to explain.’

‘Well, give it a go. You’re a New York lawyer. According to films and television they’re never short of a pithy explanation or snappy question.’

He smiled but still seemed discomforted. ‘OK. My grandmother is a very wealthy woman and she has been preyed on before.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sophie bristled. Why was he using words like ‘preyed on’ in connection with her? Surely he didn’t suspect her of ulterior motives still, did he?

He sighed. ‘A young woman with a child came to stay with her. My grandmother gave the child some very expensive toys.’

‘And that’s bad?’ Did this man want his grandmother to keep all her money so he could inherit more?

‘It wasn’t just that. My grandmother allowed this woman to stay in our place on the beach – just a little shack really, but she didn’t leave for quite a while.’

Again, it didn’t seem a major crime. ‘She squatted, you mean?’

‘She stayed there without permission. We had to have her evicted.’

‘And you think I may do that? Well, let me reassure you, I’m English, I have a return ticket. I can’t just stay in the
country indefinitely. But if you prefer me not to come, that’s fine, but you have to explain it to Matilda. I couldn’t think of a way that wouldn’t be incredibly rude.’

Sophie really hoped her indignation wasn’t obvious but inside she was fuming. He really did suspect her of wanting to get something out of Matilda, of exploiting her good nature. She hadn’t really believed it before. How dare he? It was insulting.

‘If you want to stay, and promise not to do anything to hurt Granny, then you can. But if you do anything, anything at all, I’ll have you deported before you have time to pack your toothbrush.’

Sophie took a breath. Throwing champagne over him and storming out was not an option, not even if she could walk properly. ‘I appreciate you looking out for your grandmother but I really don’t see why you see me as a threat. I haven’t got a child, I’m on a tourist visa, I’m hardly going to camp out at your family’s little shack on the beach, which probably has about three bathrooms.’