Christmas at Tiffany's by Karen Swan Read Free Book Online Page A

you’re going to see. A bit like the “Things to Do Before You Die” list, but less ambitious. You don’t need to bungee jump off Trump Towers, for example.’
    Cassie giggled. ‘So you mean like having tea at the Waldorf – that kind of thing?’
    ‘Precisely. Something that gives you the New York experience.’ He folded his arms, waiting to hear about her planned cultural adventure.
    ‘Hmmmmm.’ Cassie pursed her lips and thought. And thought. And thought. And slowly began to panic. ‘Ummmmm . . . Hmmm . . . Yes, tricky.’
    And it was. She wasn’t here as a tourist or an executive. She was a refugee. On the run. She was here because her friend had taken her in, and of all the options open to her, it had been as far away from Gil and Wiz as she had been able to get. Drawing up a list and getting the lowdown on the Big Apple wasn’t flashing up on her radar yet. Hell, she’d been here less than a day.
    ‘Okay, I get the picture,’ Henry chuckled. ‘Tell you what, I’ll write it for you. I’m an expert at these things, even if I do say so myself. I draw one up for every place I go to.’
    ‘You do?’ Of course he did, she instantly chided herself. As one of the last true explorers of the world, he probably managed to turn even a weekend city break into a great odyssey.
    ‘Sure.’
    The sound of springy feet slapping the pavement like Riverdancers made her turn. Kelly and Raoul were back from their ‘light’ run.
    ‘Hey!’ Kelly beamed, spotting Henry, then his bleeding knees. ‘Ooh. What happened? Some nutter?’
    ‘Yeah,’ Henry laughed.
    Cassie rolled her eyes. ‘Ha-ha.’
    Kelly looked between the two of them. It was clear that Cassie had been crying again. She walked over and linked arms casually with her, giving her a little squeeze.
    ‘How long are you here for?’ Kelly asked him.
    ‘Just a couple of days. I’m in with Breitling next week. Thanks so much for putting a word in for me, by the way.’
    Kelly shrugged. ‘Hey, what’re big sisters for, right, Cass?’ Technically, he was Suzy’s little brother – only by eighteen months, although that was like the distance between the earth and the moon when they were children – but as they’d all grown up like sisters, they all regarded Henry as their own little brother.
    ‘Breitling’s one of my clients,’ Kelly explained to Cassie. ‘I suggested they talk to Henry, given that National Geographic have given the go-ahead on the documentary now. It’s a good branding exercise for them – after all, extreme conditions are their USP. And with the boy looking like that –’ she reached up and patted his cheeks like a doting mother – ‘what’s not to love? I’ll see if I can muscle in on the meeting too,’ she said, winking at him.
    Cassie smiled, nodding. Wow. Television as well. His star was rising – she could see it, almost like a vapour trail. It was hard to remember him as the little brother they’d forced to be their baby when they played Mummies and Daddies, and who they’d performed mock surgeries on when they played Doctors. And – oh God, she remembered now – they’d all paid him fifty pence to let them practise kissing on him (not Suzy, of course – the thought grossed her out), which, given his rigid terror, meant they graduated on to boys their own age with all the technique of having snogged windows.
    Poor man. It was a wonder he seemed so normal.
    ‘Well, we must get together before you go,’ Kelly said, lunging into some elastic stretches. ‘Tomorrow night?’
    ‘Sounds good.’
    ‘I’ll put our names on the door at the usual, shall I?’
    ‘Great.’ He smiled at Cassie. ‘You’ll like it,’ he reassured her.
    ‘Okay,’ she said, smiling back.
    ‘Is Lacey with you?’ Kelly asked.
    ‘Yes, she is.’
    ‘Great. Then it’ll be the four of us.’
    He nodded. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Who’s Lacey?’ Cassie asked, looking between Henry and Kelly.
    ‘Henry’s fiancée.’
    ‘Oh!’ She looked