New York Valentine - Part 38
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Part 38

'Yeah. And her parents were ...' Sye paused, knowing Elena would find this almost unbelievable, 'immigrants who came to New York with ... nothing.'

'No,' she breathed. 'From where?'

'Poland.'

'Poland? Are you kidding me?'

Sye shook his head.

'She is an Eastern European girl, just like me. Why you wait so long to tell me this?' There was an accusing flash in Elena's eyes.

'I don't know ... I didn't know my grandparents, I never think of my mother as "foreign", it was only when this meeting came up that I really thought about it.'

'Sye, why is she so against me?'

'I don't know. Maybe you remind her too much of everything she used to be but isn't any more. She's not a person who wants to look back. She considers herself High New York Society now.'

'She used to work in a grocery store on the Lower East Side? And her parents came to New York from Poland?' Elena wanted to make sure she'd heard all this properly.

'Yes ... I think I've got that right.'

'And now she lives in Upper East Side with very rich lawyer husband and has big important department store job?'

'Yeah ...' Sye pushed his hair from his face and looked almost embarra.s.sed by the grandeur of his family.

'American dream, huh?' Elena gave him a little smile.

'I guess.'

'Did they want you to be lawyer?' Elena slipped her arm through Sye's and gazed up at the building.

'Oh boy yes. A smart lawyer son to take over the family firm one day. But instead, they got an Arts Major who wanted to take fashion pictures. Their only son! They were terrified I was gay, so that's a relief for them, at least,' he said, letting his hand slide down onto Elena's pert behind.

'But now,' Elena was working it out, 'they want a rich wife and clever grandchildren who will be lawyers in the family firm.' She might have grown up in the Ukrainian countryside but after two years in Svetlana's company, Elena was catching on fast to the ways of the wealthy.

'Oh yeah,' Sye said gently.

'I could be a rich wife,' Elena said, also in a quiet voice, 'my mother a multimillionaire and I run very successful dress business.'

'True ...' Sye said.

'But we don't need to think about all this now.' She slipped her hand into the back pocket of his baggy combats and squeezed.

'No,' he shook his head, turned and kissed her on the lips, 'but if you have any visa problems, don't worry, we'll just get married.'

'Your starter wife?' she teased, feeling a thrilled leap in her stomach.

'Yeah,' he agreed, feeling the same tingling thrill.

They turned and began to kiss properly, clinging together, oblivious to the street hustle going on around them; deaf to the catcalls from the man at the ramshackle stall close by selling watermelons and mobile phone holsters.

When the kiss was finally over, they stood looking deep into each other's eyes, electrified by the emotion fizzing between them.

'I ...' Sye began.

'I ...' Elena wondered.

Their lips were just inches apart.

Elena put her finger up against Sye's mouth. 'Shhhh ...' she urged and began to kiss him once again.

Then Sye dug into one of his trouser pockets and brought out a pale blue envelope, a little battered by its journey. 'This is for you.'

Elena's eyebrows shot up, but she began to tear the envelope open. Inside she found a sheet of folded pale blue paper. She opened it up to see the words 'Sylvia Westhoven' embossed in the corner and then a letter, handwritten in navy blue ink.

' "Dear Elena," ' she read aloud to Sye, ' "I owe you an apology. I understand now that you are a hard-working, ambitious girl of considerable means" ... what is this?' Elena asked, needing a translation.

'You have your own money very important to Mrs Westhoven,' Sye said.

'Oh ... "and if my son thinks you are a wonderful person, then you must be very special. I would like to get to know you much better. I look forward to meeting you at Yakowski's Deli today. The latkes are amazing, just like my mother used to make. My very best wishes, Sylvia."'

Elena looked up at Sye in astonishment.

'If I was not holding this letter in my hands, I would not believe it,' she said.

Sye nodded his agreement and added: 'Maybe that's why she wrote it.'

Chapter Thirty-Six.

The client: Violet evening gown (Zac Posen)

Gold sandals (Russell & Bromley)

Satin bow clutch bag (MaxMara)

Total est. cost: 1,600

'Did you recognize me ... or the dress?'

At almost exactly the same time as Elena and Sye were stepping into Yakowski's Deli, Ed was letting Annie go first into the lift which would take them up to the restaurant on the very top of London's OXO Tower.

'You look great,' Ed told his wife for about the tenth time this evening, 'whatever you and your iPod are doing on the bedroom floor every morning, it seems to be working.'

'Thank you. It's all down to Gawain. He talks to me through the iPod. I train with Gawain every morning. And hey, you're looking pretty smokin' yourself.'

'You are a sucker for a shirt, jacket and tie.'

'Every girl's mad for a well dressed man.'

'Are you misquoting the works of Mr ZZ Top?' he asked, making her snort, in a way entirely unbefitting a woman in a spectacular new D&G floral-print c.o.c.ktail dress.

'This is sooooo fancy,' Annie whispered as the lift doors opened and they were ushered into the glittering restaurant right up on the top floor. The panorama of London at night was set out before them.

'Nothing but the best for my girl,' Ed a.s.sured her as they were led to a table right beside the window.

A bottle of wine was ordered and the happy pair clinked gla.s.ses. 'Here's to date night,' Annie said, smiling, 'may it come round slightly more often than once a year.'

'We've been very busy,' Ed admitted, 'far too busy to go out for dinner and enjoy ourselves ...'

'And get dressed up.'

'Whenever I see you all dressed up, I a.s.sume that you're about to leave the house and go to work.'

'Poor old you,' she sympathized, 'you brought me all the way up here for a reason, didn't you?'

'Yes,' Ed smiled, liking the way that she could almost always guess what was going through his mind.

'You thought: take her up a very tall building, treat her to a sw.a.n.ky night out and she'll be convinced that London can be just as glamorous and exciting as New York.'

'We've been through this quite a lot lately,' he reminded her.

'I know and I've made my decision, I really have. I'm going to be just fine with it. Honestly, the Big Apple will just have to wait for me. But I'll get there, one day.'

'We'll make a plan,' Ed told her.

'Maybe M&M will be New Yorkers.' Annie reached out across the table for Ed's hands, 'I'll be fine about it, honest. Just as soon as I've got something else to keep me occupied.'

'No word yet?'

'Meeting Tamsin for lunch tomorrow,' she said, 'there's something on the cards. But we need to talk it through.'

'It's going to work out.'

'Yes. Especially now that I don't have to worry about you any more.'

'Me?'

The waiter appeared to take their order but they hadn't even glanced at the menu, so had to send him away again.

Over the top of her menu, Annie said: 'Yes you, getting suspended, worrying me half to death with all that.'

'You know how much I owe you for getting Harry involved.'

'Yeah, about 5,000 with travel costs an added extra.'

'Has he sent us a bill?' Ed asked, looking aghast.

'No. We're his friends, he's done it as a favour ... but if we'd had to pay ... different story, especially Owen. Imagine how much Harry normally charges for getting up at dawn and coming to police stations probably 100 a minute.'

'Do you think Owen's going to be OK?'

'We'll talk about Owen, just as soon as we've ordered,' Annie said, spotting the waiter hovering into view again, 'but I think he's going to be just fine. I think he'll go to business school and do really well.'

'As long as he doesn't go to jail, I'll be proud of him.'

'He won't go to jail, he doesn't have a single crooked bone in his body. He was just a bit naive. He'll wise up. Look at the menu, Ed, quick! The waiter is coming.'

'But you look so lovely,' he said and winked.

As she was just finishing her main course, Annie took a moment to look around the packed dining room just to make a surrept.i.tious check on the other diners. What were they eating? What were they wearing? Where was the fun in eating out if you couldn't do a little people spotting?

There was a woman over on the far side of the room who caught her eye. She just looked so good in that wonderful, possibly Halston, dress. It framed her face, set her apart ... it had almost definitely been chosen for her ... by Annie!

'I've just spotted a client,' Annie told Ed, 'I think I'll go over and say a quick h.e.l.lo.'

'Go for it,' Ed said, 'but if you spot any St V parents, I'm hiding. I don't want any conversations about the up and coming violin exams.'

As she approached the table, the woman in the beautiful dress looked up, and recognized her immediately.

'It's Annie Valentine, isn't it? Guy, look, this is the lady I was telling you about, the one who helped me buy the dress. Did you recognize me, by the way, or did you recognize the dress? I'm Joanne Kettner, in case you've forgotten.'

'Joanne, of course I remember you. You sent me to New York,' Annie said and reached over to take Guy's hand which was being offered to her. 'h.e.l.lo, Guy.'

Annie did remember the dress and the day when she was in The Store mourning her lost TV series, and how Joanne had told her that if she had to go to New York to be true to herself, then she had to go.