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

back at him. ‘Congratulations, Henry.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    ‘When’s the wedding?’
    ‘Next summer. After I get back.’
    ‘Great. Great. That’s great,’ she nodded.
    ‘Well, I’d better go. I’m in a rush – as you probably saw from the comfort of the bench,’ he chuckled.
    She went to smack him on the arm, but he dodged out of the way, laughing, already out of reach.

Chapter Three
     
    ‘Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?’
    ‘Because it’s classified. Today’s itinerary is on a strictly need-to-know basis.’
    ‘But I do need to know.’
    ‘No you don’t,’ Kelly said, striding ahead with her arm out. A cab screeched to a halt beside her. ‘Get in,’ she commanded.
    Cassie sighed and slid along the seat.
    ‘222 Broome, between Lafayette and Broadway,’ she said to the driver. ‘And don’t take Park. They’re still digging up around East 14th and traffic’s a bitch.’
    Cassie cupped her chin in her hand and looked out through the foggy window that looked like it had been cleaned with milk. Eww. She moved her face a little further away and made a mental note to put a pack of antibacterial wipes in her bag – her new bag. She reached down to her lap and stroked the green ostrich skin and the large hooped bamboo handles of the bag Kelly had given her after dinner last night. She had ‘negotiated’ it for her from her new client, Maddy Foxton, and Cassie’s insistence upon paying had died away instantly when Kelly had told her what it cost.
    ‘So, how did your date go last night?’ she asked, turning to Kelly, who was frantically checking texts. As soon as they’d left the apartment, she was back in Manhattan mode and the Kelly of yesteryear would now be held on ice till they were alone again. Apparently, Fashion Week was in a couple of weeks’ time and this was one of the twin peaks of the New York social calendar. Everything was needed now! and yesterday! and Kelly had been glued to the phone the second they’d got back from their run, barking orders and taking them in turn. But even with emergency demands bearing down on her from all sides, the appointments she’d made for Cassie’s ‘Manhattan makeover’ were still mandatory. Supposedly the need for it was that urgent.
    Until landing here, Cassie had thought she looked all right. Not amazing. Not like a model or actress or socialite with long legs and twiglet arms. But she was slim, with ‘lovely’ breasts, Gil had always said (although clearly he’d said a lot of things that were lies), elegant hands and thick ‘autumn’ blonde hair that fell down the middle of her back in rope-like twists. But as she looked out of the window at the ultra-blonded, tweezered, blow-dried women getting into limos and cabs, she knew she just looked plain, dishevelled . . . a mess.
    ‘Tch not well, I left after ten minutes.’
    ‘Ten minutes! But Kelly, that’s so rude. He must have been so offended.’
    Kelly stopped texting and looked at her. Cassie could see the pity in her eyes. ‘Sweetie, if there’s one thing you’re going to have to learn out here, it’s that you can’t go around worrying about what other people think.’
    ‘But . . . But . . . doesn’t that just make you . . .’ She hesitated. ‘Obnoxious?’
    Kelly raised a threaded eyebrow. ‘It makes you efficient , Cassie. Nobody’s got time to waste chatting inanely to someone they clearly have nothing in common with.’ She shrugged. ‘He knew the score. I imagine he was grateful not to squander the rest of his night too. We’re all busy.’
    Cassie shook her head and looked back out of the window. Miles of plate-glass windows stretched ahead of her, all immaculately polished, with artfully positioned mannequins behind them toting jewel-coloured dresses or preppy trench coats and slacks, or glittering watches or feathered hats, or plush furs, or . . . the reflections further along became too dazzling to see through, and she watched instead the reflected