Wedding Bells on Madison Avenue (New York Ever After Book 3) Read online

  Myles grinned. ‘I think I got things a bit out of step.’ Jokingly he tapped his palm against his forehead. ‘First, date a girl…second, ask her to move in with you…then, propose.’ He propped himself up on his forearm and with his other hand tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘I missed out phase two.’

  ‘At least you impressed my dad.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘You’re doing the honourable thing. We dated, you proposed, there’ll be no living in sin. At least…’ She eyed his naked body. ‘…not to his knowledge.’

  ‘Maybe I should take a selfie and send it to him.’ He put an arm around her and held her close before reaching for his cell phone.

  ‘Don’t you dare.’ She wrestled away. ‘But seriously, Myles, where do we go from here? I work long and erratic hours and am away from this apartment, you often work silly hours too. It won’t be much of a home if neither of us is here or, when we are, we’re not together.’

  ‘We’ll work it out, now would you come back here?’ He watched as Darcy grabbed his discarded shirt and tugged it on, protecting her modesty.

  The shirt sleeves hung way past her hands and she rolled them up after she’d buttoned the shirt. ‘Do you have a pen and paper?’

  ‘Are you wanting to draw diagrams to decide what we’re doing next?’ he teased.

  ‘Stop joking around for a second. Do you have one or not?’ Hands on hips, she scoured the area.

  ‘On the dresser next to the mirror.’

  She padded over the wooden floor, grabbed both items and returned to the bed, brushing away his suggestion she take the shirt off again. They might be engaged but they were very much in the early, can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other, stage of their relationship, and sometimes it was far too distracting.

  ‘What are you up to?’ He accepted defeat, reached out for his jeans and tugged them on.

  ‘We have just five months to plan the wedding.’ She tapped the pen against the paper. ‘We have a venue, but that’s it.’ Darcy began scribbling away.

  ‘We have a ring too.’ He ran a hand up her thigh. ‘You know, I remember you making another list once upon a time.’

  She stilled his hand but couldn’t help smiling at his mischievous expression. ‘I remember.’ He’d been just a guest back then, but a man with a dilemma, trying to decide whether to take an escort to a work function. Between them they’d put together a pro and con list and he’d ended up asking her to go with him instead.

  He peered more closely at the paper. ‘Just checking you’re not putting a column for “con” on the list when it comes to our wedding.’

  She picked up a discarded cushion that had been knocked off during their lovemaking and chucked it at his head as he made his way to the bathroom. ‘Careful, or I might think about it,’ she called after him.

  Lists were Darcy’s friend. They helped her to sort through the jumble in her mind and know what she needed to do, the crossing off of items a form of catharsis. But as she looked down at the ten major items she’d already made a note of by the time Myles emerged from the bathroom when he heard his cell phone ringing, she wondered how on earth they could possibly get it all done.

  She was about to go through the list with Myles and expand it in more detail when he said, ‘I have to go in to the office.’

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He leaned over and kissed her, looked at the shirt and said with a grin, ‘It’s OK, I’ll grab a fresh one.’

  ‘How long will you be?’

  He fastened the cuffs on the shirt he’d pulled from the wardrobe. ‘As long as it takes, I guess. The shit has hit the fan in a big way so I don’t have much choice.’

  And just like that, their perfect afternoon was gone. Darcy’s visions of taking a bubble bath while listening to music, pouring a big glass of full-bodied red wine each, and snuggling up on the sofa, a rarity in their lives that had only been intersecting for a whirlwind few months, had disappeared.

  Had they both leapt into this without thinking?

  Their love was new and exciting; it was all the good bits, and they were only just starting to face the practicalities. They’d only been together since Christmas but as the New Year had dawned, both of them had thrown their focus into their separate work commitments. Darcy had been running the Inglenook Inn independently whenever Sofia was out of the country spending time with her daughter, Gabriella, who had been Darcy’s closest friend since they were at school. And when Sofia had returned, they’d got straight down to formalities. Darcy was now in a more formal arrangement and paid a decent salary for her efforts, working hard to boost profits and establish herself as one of the finest hoteliers in the industry. She and Sofia had discussed the long-term outlook too, which perhaps involved Darcy taking part ownership of the Inn if that was the route they chose, but for now they were managing it between them and it was working. And the high level of responsibility was a huge step forwards in Darcy’s career. The only worry she had was that this would come at a price, especially when Myles’s career on Wall Street was also going from strength to strength.

  Since the day Myles had kissed her beneath the mistletoe on the steps of the Inglenook Inn in December, Darcy’s feet had barely touched the ground. But she had a sneaky suspicion the next few months, as they planned their wedding in a ridiculously short timescale, would test their resolve.

  Only two people who were really meant to be would come out the other side.

  Chapter Two

  Myles

  Myles was beginning to think he worked with a bunch of incompetents in his job as an investment banker. He was in charge of a team of six, including one troublemaker in particular. Rufus. The guy brought with him a degree and a high level of arrogance he didn’t have the right to unless he’d been in the game at least as long as the rest of them. Right now, Myles should’ve been at his apartment with Darcy in his arms, not in the thronging depths of the Financial District making his way towards the firm’s headquarters, where he’d need to execute damage control and babysit a member of his team who needed some further education, better known as Life Skills.

  By the time Myles reached the office he was already cranky – at having been taken away from home, at having a problem to sort out that he’d played no part in creating, at the way faces rushed at him as soon as he got there telling him what had gone wrong. Rufus had arrived at the firm two months ago with the same bags of energy that were seen in most, if not all, junior investment bankers. But he’d made the same mistake that so many others did and put his hand up for everything. And it was one thing being seen to be keen, but totally another when things had gone belly-up and it all went wrong.

  ‘You should’ve flagged this sooner,’ Myles told him the second he’d seen the mess Rufus had made with the financial projections. Even at first glance they looked haphazard and meaningless and were no preparation for an important client meeting that Myles’s boss thought was all in hand. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have assumed you could do it.’ Myles slumped at his desk and tried to summon the energy to get back into work mode after managing to completely switch off with Darcy and their friends. It was rare that Myles took any time off, but today he’d arranged everything down to a tee so that he’d have the special time with his fiancée. Goodness knows they needed it. His father had offered one piece of advice to Myles when he came to New York last year to sort out the mess that was his family, and that was to prioritise and value his personal relationships. His father didn’t want him making the same mistakes he had, and Myles was determined not to either. Although when people made his job ten times harder, and demanded more of his time, he began to doubt his ability to see his intentions through.

  Rufus scratched at his head, the sweat beading on his brow despite the cool temperature outside and the not particularly warm office. And Myles had no choice but to step up now, and spent the next few hours trawling through figures, macros, spreadsheets, calculations and help Rufus pull together a reasonable present
ation ready for the client meeting tomorrow. Myles could’ve done it himself – easier than if he’d been hand holding – but he did his best to cast his mind back to his first years as an investment banker, remembering the steep learning curve, the punishing hours, and attempted a modicum of sympathy.

  When they were almost finished Rufus sat back in his chair and interlocked his hands behind his head. The leather groaned beneath him but he looked as though he’d got to the end of a taxing day and come out on top. And now it was time for Myles to tell him how it really was. Otherwise the man was going to keep going the same way, like an out-of-control freight train.

  ‘You’re all ready for the client meeting?’ Myles asked his question but really he was waiting for Rufus to thank him profusely for saving his arse.

  ‘Yep, very confident. We’ve got this.’

  Myles took a deep breath. The office had quietened apart from them. People had gone home to their loved ones, or out in the city that never slept. ‘You didn’t have it when you called in a panic.’

  ‘Sorry about that.’

  ‘That’s not why you should be apologising.’ The poor guy looked confused. ‘You volunteer for everything. Yes, it’s enthusiastic and perhaps proactive, but sticking your hand up for extra projects when you already have too much work on is only asking for mistakes. And that’s what happened here.’

  ‘I…I…’ he stammered. ‘I didn’t see it that way. I’ve always thought it good to get out my comfort zone and push myself.’

  Myles’s voice softened. A lot of managers would tear a piece off their employee for making them come into the office on a rare afternoon off to sort out a mess they’d created, but he’d go easy this time. ‘I’ve been there myself. I’ve made plenty of mistakes along the way. What you need to remember is that you can take on the work and push yourself, but make sure you deliver. No cutting corners. It only makes for extra work for the team and a very tetchy manager.’ Who’d been quite happy at home with his fiancée, he wanted to add, although just thinking about Darcy made him a bit hot under the collar.

  When his cell phone rang he told Rufus to go and start putting together the PowerPoint presentation.

  ‘Darcy, I’m sorry, I’m still here at the office.’ He sighed, looking out at the lights across Manhattan and picturing her sitting in his apartment waiting. He wondered if she was still in his shirt, her long legs leading all the way up, teasing at what might be beneath the material.

  ‘How long will you be? I could order Chinese food.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful. How about you order it for eight thirty? I should be home by then.’

  ‘I miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too.’ Did he ever? ‘Keep the bed warm for me.’

  ‘No chance, I’m lounging on the sofa with a big glass of red and the only place I’ll be going is to the door to collect the food when it arrives.’

  ‘I hope you’re wearing more than you were when I left.’

  ‘Well...’

  He was about to say more when Rufus appeared, looking even more frazzled than he had when Myles first arrived. Myles cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair. ‘Order the usual, Darcy, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way.’

  After he reluctantly hung up, Myles turned his attention to Rufus. ‘Tell me what’s happening.’ He was starting to resent the man even more now he’d heard Darcy’s voice, teasing him, wanting him to come to her. He had a picture in his mind, of her on his sofa, with a glass of wine, feet tucked beneath her and that soft hair tumbling around her shoulders.

  ‘I can’t find the updated financial statements from the client. And when I tried to access the files, I’ve been locked out.’

  Couldn’t the man do anything? Myles pinched the skin at the top of his nose between his eyes. ‘You get on to the systems administrator and I’ll find the files on my own computer so you can work from them in the meantime.’

  Systems services sorted the access issue quickly enough but Myles had already found the files for Rufus to work from, his patience now starting to wane, and between them they finished the entire preparation for the presentation, ready for tomorrow morning.

  ‘Shit.’ Myles saw the time. Quarter past bloody ten. He checked his cell but nothing from Darcy.

  ‘Thank you.’ Rufus sheepishly poked his head around the corner of Myles’s office. ‘For tonight, I mean.’

  ‘Don’t let it happen again,’ said Myles, and his look told Rufus to scarper.

  Outside, the temperature had plummeted further and it was almost as though winter was too scared to leave and let spring take its place. Myles navigated the subway until he was on the Upper West Side and walked the final few blocks towards his apartment. When he turned his key and pushed open the door the place was quiet with low lighting coming from the lounge. He hung his coat on the hook in the hallway, removed his shoes and padded along the wooden floorboards. Darcy wasn’t in the bedroom off to the right, or the bathroom, and he found her in the lounge, curled up asleep on the sofa.

  Myles leaned against the doorjamb. He rarely had moments like this where he could just enjoy her, watch her and wonder how in the world he’d ever been so lucky to meet someone as special as Darcy Spencer. He looked at the empty wine glass on the coffee table, a tiny pool of red at the bottom where the dregs had gathered. He took in the discarded cartons, chopsticks poking out of one of them. He knew what they’d contain: chicken in black bean sauce in one, prawn dumplings in another, and a portion of mushroom rice in the third. He already knew Darcy would’ve put his half of the rice and the dumplings into the fridge along with his regular order of beef teriyaki. There were so many little things they already knew about each other, the minutiae of everyday life, yet he couldn’t help but wonder whether the bigger picture hadn’t yet been fully painted and was going to trip them up somewhere along the way, just when they thought they knew what was what. His father had warned him not to lose sight of his personal life under the weight of his ambition and, looking at Darcy now, Myles knew how easy it would be to do just that.

  He scooped her up from the sofa and when she stirred in his arms he put a kiss to her forehead and carried her through to the bedroom.

  ‘My handsome prince is home,’ she joked, her voice croaky at having been woken up.

  ‘Goodnight, Cinderella.’ He tucked her in and her head nestled into the pillow as she began to fall back to sleep. He took off his shirt, his jeans, his socks, and pulled on some sweats and an old T-shirt. He kissed Darcy once more, moved her hair away from her face, and looked up at the framed caricature picture that would forever remind them both of the day in Central Park when their lives had taken on a whole new direction.

  Too wired to sleep after the afternoon he’d had, and unbelievably hungry, Myles shut the door behind him and went back to the lounge, took out his food from the refrigerator and tipped it into bowls. He punched the time counter on the digital display of the microwave and listened to the hum as the machine reheated his dinner, watched the turntable reliably move around to heat the food evenly.

  Of one thing he was certain, and that was that he wanted Darcy. It was why he’d proposed in the first place. But he had his career to think about too, and it was important to him.

  The problem, or the answer, had to be about balance. But he had no clue how to achieve the ideal. Career had been ingrained in him since he was a boy and, coupled with a powerful work ethic that couldn’t be taught, he wasn’t sure how to be in this relationship and let the important stuff shine through more than the job he’d worked so hard to get.

  How did anyone ever get it right?

  Chapter Three

  Darcy

  When Darcy woke the next morning, Myles was out for the count, his bare arm slung across her body. She prised it off and climbed slowly out of bed, still wearing the shirt she’d grabbed yesterday when she’d started making the list about the wedding. She could vaguely remember watching a movie last night after she’d finally given up wai
ting for Myles and eaten her dinner, and she recalled him carrying her to bed when he eventually came home.

  It was chilly in the apartment at this early hour. She touched a hand to the radiator by the window to find it still stone cold. She pulled on a pair of jeans from the drawer she had in his apartment. Half of her clothes were here, half at the Inn, so without many choices given that some of her things were waiting by the washing machine in a basket to be dealt with, she grabbed Myles’s sweatshirt and pulled it over her head before trudging to the kitchen to make a much-needed cup of coffee.

  With the iPad resting on her knees, which were tucked up against her on the sofa, she looked again at the website for the Moonlight Loft & Terrace. Nestled on the magnificent Madison Avenue, a street she’d walked a thousand times before, it would mark a turning point in her life. The venue was perfect and she still couldn’t believe they’d been able to book their wedding in such a brilliant location. She’d had drinks there when it first opened in the fall and the place had stuck in her mind ever since as being classy yet rustic, lively yet not too showy. When lists of what needed to be done for the wedding began to form in her mind the second Myles proposed, the Moonlight Loft & Terrace had been the first place she thought of. And crossing off the search for a venue was a major worry out of the way.

  Her cell bleeped and she picked up a message from Isabella asking if they were still on for 9 a.m. She typed back that of course they were and then fired off a text to Cleo to check again that she could make it. Sofia had the Inn under control and wasn’t leaving for Switzerland until early afternoon, so this was Darcy’s chance to sort out her dress. Isabella, the friend that she was, had already phoned round – given their ridiculous timescale – and made appointments at three separate stores. Darcy had researched dresses online to know what style she preferred, or at least thought she wanted, compiled them in a document, and had forwarded this to the stores so that the assistants knew what she was after.