The Charm Bracelet (35 page)

Having
safely moved all the coat rails to the designated cloakroom, Holly moved to the edge of the crowd in the Catalogue Room. Jessica had told her to go and take a breather until she needed her again, so Holly did as she was bid, anxious to see if she might be able to identify anyone who – from the picture she’d built up of her – might be the owner of the bracelet.

She’d been approached a few times by people thinking they knew her, and by a few men obviously looking to hit on her. Small talk was made, but the moment Holly began talking about the bracelet and if they knew anybody who might be missing one, she’d been rewarded with strange looks and protestations that they’d seen someone they needed to say hello to. 

With the way things were going, she’d be lucky if security didn’t cart off the crazy woman propositioning people with mad stories about bracelets. She smiled. Oh well, she supposed there were worse ways to get on Page Six.

Looking at her watch, she took note of the time. Almost eleven o’clock, just over an hour until the ball dropped. She took in the happy couples and partygoers around her enjoying themselves, and suddenly wished she had someone to talk to. As much as she remembered her promise to Carole and the others to have a good time, and do the dress proud, she couldn’t deny that she felt a little lost, not to mention hopelessly out of place.

She strolled slowly through the crowd, and as she did was awarded with appraising looks from several dashing-looking gentlemen, as well as a few dirty looks from the women who were obviously said gentlemen’s dates.

She really didn’t belong here.

Holly moved towards the bar area, thinking a glass of water might soothe her dry mouth and calm her nerves. As she approached the bar itself, she again attracted the attention of an appreciative man. But this was one she recognised.

Holly smiled as she looked at Gennaro, the attractive Italian gallery owner. And he clearly recognised her.

‘Holly? I have your name right, yes?’

She nodded and smiled, happy to run into a familiar face, even if it was this shameless flirt. Although, at the moment, Holly realised he was looking at her rather strangely. She coloured, somewhat embarrassed. Did she look
that
out of place here?

‘Hello again – Gennaro, isn’t it?’ she replied. ‘Happy New Year.’

‘I can’t believe you’re here.’ He didn’t return her greeting, just continued to stare at her as if she’d just landed from outer space.

She blushed self-consciously. ‘Well, I’m not here as a guest actually. I’m helping out a friend, well—’

‘Do you still have that bracelet?’ he asked, cutting her off. She looked at him, surprised at the intensity in his voice.

‘Well yes … why do you ask?’

‘You do? Oh this is just wonderful … ’

So it
had
been Gennaro who had come looking for her at Carole’s the other day  after all, Holly realised. A surge of anticipation rushed through her veins. ‘Why? Did you find out who it belongs to? Was it one of your artists after all?’

But then Holly recalled what Tasha had said about the man saying the bracelet was important to his family, and confusion bloomed yet again.

‘Yes, and he is here tonight,’ Gennaro said theatrically.

‘He …’ Holly stammered, again perplexed.

‘Yes, you are looking for him and he is looking for you – wonderful! Come,’ he said, reaching for her hand. ‘We must find him, my friend. He will be so happy to see you.’

She looked at Gennaro expectantly, hardly unable to believe it. She was right. Her hunch about the
Same Time, Same Place
charm was right. She had followed the breadcrumbs correctly and they had led her here to this place, on this night.

The owner of the bracelet – or at least someone who knew he
r
was here. Now all Holly had to do was get it back to her.

Greg turned around to see the Marilyn Monroe look-alike in the six-inch heels from the door approaching. She was carrying a clipboard, the guest list. 

‘Ms Mead?’ Jessica said, nearing her employer. ‘You were looking for me?’

‘Yes,’ Margot placed a hand on her employee’s arm. ‘Jessica, may I introduce to you Greg Matthews, and his father Jeff.’ Jessica nodded and smiled politely, as if fully expecting to have to do their bidding as well as Margot’s.

Impatiently, he smiled a greeting in return, wishing they could quickly get through the formalities and get on with it.

‘Jessica, I believe that you might be able to help us. Do you recall anyone enquiring about a charm bracelet recently?’ her boss continued. ‘Or perhaps an enquiry related to an individual charm, more specifically one of the
jewelled eggs we used as a prize at the breast cancer benefit at the Met last year?’

Was it Greg’s imagination or did the assistant’s eyes grow twice the size?

‘You mean Holly?’ she gasped, and he breathed an internal sigh of relief.

‘Yes, my mother’s charm bracelet went missing recently and it seems that this woman, Holly, might have happened across it.’

‘Yes, she did,’ Jessica confirmed excitedly, abandoning her earlier decorum. ‘And she’s been searching high and low for you this last few weeks.’

‘Would you happen to have a contact number for her?’ Greg asked, hoping that she might have something other than the store number, as this had already proved to be a dead end.

Jessica looked as though she was stifling a smile. ‘I can do one better than that, Mr Matthews,’ she said, grinning. ‘She’s here.’

Greg looked at Jeff in disbelief. ‘Here tonight?’

‘Yes, she offered to help out in return for my helping her with the charm. I can take you to her right now if you’d like.’

‘That would be fantastic.’ Greg couldn’t believe his luck. He stole a delighted glance at his father who was looking at his watch. Greg did the same as he followed Jessica through the crowds out towards the corridor. It was 11.15 –
 forty-five minutes until the clock struck twelve.

As they walked, Jessica told him all about Holly and her repeated attempts to track his mother down.

‘She was very determined. Worked me even harder than Ms Mead trying to put the pieces together,’ Jessica told him. ‘Hey, you guys don’t happen to live on Park Avenue, do you?’

‘My parents do,’ Greg confirmed. Then he thought of something. ‘The building, she identified the building from the charm?’

‘I did actually,’ Jessica said proudly. ‘But I think Holly was about ready to stand outside every building on the park hoping to find the right one.’

‘I can’t believe she was so committed. I’m very grateful.’ He was also really looking forward to meeting Holly properly. She did sound like a good person.

‘I went to the store in Greenwich. Apparently she doesn’t work there.’

‘No, that’s not it. She’s just been out for a couple days. Her son had an accident just before Christmas and she was at home with him.’

Greg nodded. A son. And probably a husband, too.

As if Jessica could read his mind, she quickly provided, ‘She’s single – really great. You’ll like her I think.’

Greg wasn’t entirely sure why she’d felt the need to offer this piece of information, but from what he could remember of Holly from the gallery, he was surprised that she wasn’t attached. She was very attractive.

‘So it’s true then, she definitely has the bracele
t
you’ve seen it?’

‘Yup. Seen it, inspected it and hypothesised over it, too. Don’t worry, Holly has it.

‘Excuse me, excuse me please,’ Jessica said, trying to stay as professional as possible as they moved through the crowd, when at that point all Greg wanted to do was start tossing people out of their way.

‘Come on, she’s just
down here,’ Jessica said, leading him to a small room down the hallway that looked as though it might be a conference room but was now being used as a cloakroom. It was empty.

‘She was just here … ’ Jessica said under her breath.

Greg shook his head ruefully. It was as if somebody somewhere was trying to stop him from getting the bracelet back.

Holly felt faintly excited as she allowed herself to be led through the crowds.

She couldn’t believe that after all the searching she would finally be able to reunite this precious bracelet with its rightful owner.

They wandered around for quite a while, until eventually she had to tell Gennaro to slow up, her feet were hurting.

‘There are so many people,’ he complained, looking frustrated. ‘I don’t think it is possible to find him in this way.’ He took out his mobile phone and scrolled through it. ‘With luck he will have his phone.’ Holly watched expectantly as he put the phone to his ear and waited. After a few moments, he shook his head.

‘It doesn’t seem like he has his phone. Or,’ he said as if a thought had struck him, ‘maybe he just cannot hear it. Come, let us go through to the ballroom.’

‘There’s a ballroom in the New York Public Library?’ Holly repeated in confusion.

Gennaro winked. ‘There is on New Year’s Eve.’

Then suddenly Holly was being led towards the famed Reading Room, which
truly looked like something out of a fairy tale. The books that usually lined the large open space had been covered with light satin gauze and the flowers that bedecked the room uplit by soft candlelight.

‘Wow,’ she gasped, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Just then her own phone began to ring and she guessed it was Jessica.

‘Oh darnit. Sorry Gennaro, I don’t think I can do this now, I’m needed. Like I said, I’m actually here working and—’

Gennaro, who was looking into the distance, shook his head. ‘Wait just one moment. I see him,’ he said, and before Holly had the chance to say any more, he took her hand and led her to the other side of the room.

Feeling guilty, she fumbled in her bag with one hand, trying to get the phone out. She’d promised Jessica she’d help out at this thing, not wander around the building with a handsome Italian.

But Gennaro was on a mission and, as she followed his course through the path of people up ahead, she saw a red dress and a mane of blonde hair. Jessica.

She looked seriously on the warpath, and Holly hoped she wasn’t about to get a serious dressing-down.

But when they got closer, Gennaro began to slow his pace; as the crowds parted, another person she recognised came into view. Standing beside Jessica was the man she’d collided with that day on the way out of Gennaro’s gallery. Holly was sure of it.

He happened to see her at the very same time and his eyes brightened the moment their gazes connected. Instant recognition bloomed on both of their faces.

Gennaro dropped her hand and stopped about a foot in front of Jessica and the guy from the gallery.

‘There you are!’ Jessica exclaimed.

‘Sorry, I know you’ve been looking for me but—’

‘Not me, him.’ She nodded with a smile towards Greg.

‘Seems you have both been looking for each other,’ Gennaro commented mischievously. Jessica whispered to Holly that she would catch up with her later, and Gennaro followed her, an intent gaze on Jessica’s backside as she walked away.

The man and Holly looked at each other.

‘It’s you … Gregorio,’ she said, remembering how Gennaro had addressed him at the gallery.

He took a step forward and offered his hand. ‘Actually, it’s just Greg.’

‘I’m—’

‘I know who you are, Holly.’ The look he gave her sent a warm flush along her cheeks. ‘And I understand that you have been looking for me.’

As she took in Greg’s fine features, his broad shoulders, warm chocolate eyes and dark hair that was practically pleading for fingers to be run through it, Holly thought:
Remember Holly, he’s not looking for you – he’s looking for the bracelet.
She nodded. ‘Well, I didn’t know it was you, but yes, I have.’

Reluctantly she dropped her gaze to the clutch, and opening the bag she put her hand inside it, feeling for the bracelet. Pulling it out in one swoop, she smiled and handed it to Greg. ‘I think this belongs to you,’ she laughed, ‘or rather, your girlfriend or wife or … ’ Her eyes danced around quickly, looking for any sign of the woman who not only owned the beautiful bracelet, but was also lucky enough to have laid claim to this gorgeous man’s heart.

‘Actually, it’s my mother’s,’ he clarified and she felt her heart lift a little. ‘Holly, thank you so much.’ He picked up the bracelet and studied it, running his fingers along the individual charms. His eyes seemed to glisten as did so, and she guessed she wasn’t quite getting the whole story. ‘You don’t know how much this means. Really. This is so important to our family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. My dad’s here and I know he’ll want to thank you too.’

She smiled kindly. ‘It was my pleasure.’

For a moment the two of them stood there, unsure of what to say
.

‘Well … I probably should be going.’

‘Actually, would you like to go get a drink?’ Greg asked quickly. ‘I feel I owe you that much at least, especially since I know you’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get this back to us.’

‘You don’t know the half of it
… ’ Holly smiled and self-consciously put a hand up to push a stray hair out of her face. ‘But it was no trouble really.’

‘Hey, you’ve got one too.’ Greg noticed the bracelet on Holly’s wrist and he put a gentle hand under her arm.
A surge of electricity shot through her and her mind whirled. What was going on? Who was this man? ‘It’s beautiful. If it’s anything like my mom’s, I’m assuming all of these charms, they mean something too?’

She nodded
, trying her utmost not to betray how she was feeling. ‘You assume right.’

‘So that’s why you tried so hard to get it back,’ Greg said. ‘I was wondering about that.’

‘This bracelet – it’s the story of my life really.’

Greg smiled. ‘Well then it gives you an unfair advantage.’

‘How so?’ she asked, curious about his meaning.

‘Well, you already know a lot of the stories behind the charms on my mother’s bracelet … so I’m thinking you should let me buy you that drink, right now, and tell me your stories so we have a level playing field.’

He looked expectantly at her but Holly had already fallen under his spell. . She knew she wasn’t supposed to be here sharing drinks and stories with handsome men, she was supposed to be working. But she couldn’t resist the idea that something - and not just the bracelet – had drawn her here, to Greg.  Almost as if to reiterate this, right then, the music changed, and recognising the song she gave a little laugh.

‘What’s so funny?’ Greg asked.

‘That song – it’s my favourite song in the whole world, and I’m just thinking about what my son said about it the last time I heard it.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He said it was a song about pizza,’ she smiled, as the sound of Dean Martin’s ‘Amore’ filled the room.

‘Well, I suppose he’s right in a way,’ Greg said, chuckling. ‘He sounds like a sensible guy.’

‘Sensible, Danny?’ Holly scoffed at the thought.

‘Well, OK then, if you won’t let me buy you a drink, then let me have this dance. Seeing as it’s your favourite song … ’

Holly looked around at these people, the beautifully dressed women and rich, handsome men. Never in a million years did she think she’d be amongst people like these in a place like this. Wearing a dress like this. With a gorgeous man who wanted to dance with her.

‘Just say yes,’ Greg said, closing the space between them and reaching for her hand. This wasn’t her world and would never be her world, but maybe like Carole said, the dress deserved another great memory?

And as a matter of fact, so did she.

Feeling impulsive,
(and unable to resist Greg’s smile) Holly held out her hand. ‘OK.’

And as she danced around the Reading Room in the New York Public Library to that wonderful song, with a gorgeous man she’d only just met, she guessed Anna Bowery would approve.

              As Greg held her hand up while they moved, Holly’s bracelet dropped down along her arm and into her field of vision. She smiled realising that she certainly wouldn’t need a charm to remember tonight – this particular memory would be with her for the rest of her life. And in the end, wasn’t it also the links - the people, the love and the memories – and not just the charms, that made the bracelet complete? 

The song was just about to come to an end, when another man tapped Greg on the shoulder.

‘Son, I’m going now. I’ll see you later. Happy New Year.’

‘Oh Dad, I didn’t realise the time,’ Greg said, turning but not letting go of Holly. ‘I was hoping to talk to you before you go. This is Holly,’ he said to the man whom he quickly introduced as his father, Jeff.

The man’s eyes twinkled with humour and warmth. Rather like Greg’s, she thought as he shook her hand. ‘Holly, so lovely to meet you.’ He looked at Greg. ‘This is the lovely lady who was keeping Mom’s bracelet safe for us?’

‘Yes, I have it here actually.’ Greg reached into his pocket and handed it to Jeff.

‘This is just wonderful. On behalf of my wife – Holly, how can I ever thank you?’

‘It’s no problem, really. And I think your son is doing a pretty good job of that,’ she
smiled, meeting Greg’s warm gaze.

When Jeff had taken his leave and they continued dancing slowly across the floor, Holly looked at Greg, confused.

‘Where’s your dad going?’ she asked. ‘By my watch it’s another twenty minutes till countdown.’

‘Exactly,’ Greg said with a knowing smile. ‘But Dad has a standing appointment every December thirty-first, and there’s somewhere he needs to be.’

Jeff Matthews walked out of the library and made his way further up Fifth Avenue, his wife’s bracelet safely in his pocket.

It was fitting, he thought, that they’d got it back.

Just in time.

Checking his watch once more, he quickened his pace and made his way along the street, past the stores and office buildings, his footsteps echoing on the footpath as he walked.

Reaching St Patrick’s Cathedral, he noticed the car parked outside and tears came to his eyes.

She had made it. Despite her pain, despite the medication, and frail as she was, his beloved wife still hadn’t let him down.

As she never had throughout their entire wonderful life together.

Their standing appointment at St Patrick’s Cathedral at midnight every 31 December had begun
the night of their wedding all those years ago. Jeff and Cristina had been married at midday in St Patrick’s Cathedral, and following the wedding celebrations they had returned that very night to give thanks for their happiness, not knowing that it would be a tradition that would last for over forty years.

Jeff had been reluctant that Cristina should try to keep to the appointment this year, what with the second bout of illness.

But his brave (and obstinate) wife wasn’t hearing any of it.

‘An hour or so out of that stupid bed won’t kill me,’ she had insisted, when Jeff tried to convince her not to leave the apartment
and forget about the tradition – just this once.

She was such a trooper really. Nothing fazed her, not the illness, the chemotherapy, and now the radiotherapy she had been having these last few weeks, which had kept her holed up
in the bedroom of their Park Avenue apartment.

The morphine was making her sleep so much that
she was in and out of consciousness most days. Jeff was worried, but the doctors proclaimed that the therapy seemed to be working well, and the cancer slowly abating. It had been a hugely stressful and worrying few months, but given time, his wonderful wife might well be on the road to recovery.

Going up the steps, Jeff knocked lightly on the door, and waited as it opened a fraction.

Father Mike was shaking his head. ‘I don’t know how I let you two keep talking me into this,’ the priest said. ‘Ever single year … ’

‘Is she here?’ Jeff asked.

‘Yes, sitting in the last pew. Maria’s with her.’

‘Thanks Mike, you know how much this means to us – especially now.’

‘Yes. I know,’ Father Mike shook his head indulgently. ‘And actually I think it’s wonderful.’

Going inside, Jeff approached his wife and took her hand. ‘Ready sweetheart?’ he said. ‘It’s almost midnight.’

Cristina turned around and, despite her frailty, gave him a radiant smile that reminded him of how she’d looked on their honeymoon in Florence all those years ago. Like a movie star.

‘Of course.’

Taking her hand, Jef
f
aided by Mari
a
led his beloved wife to the back of the church, towards the area where the candles stood.

And as the midnight bells began to toll, signalling the end of one year and welcoming another,
as always Jeff and Cristina Matthews lit a candle to celebrate all the things for which they were thankful that year, and the good things they hoped would come in the next.