“My help?”
“Yes. Could you come here a moment?” Tentatively, I aim for the side of the desk. He’s working the mouse, clicking something. I hear a printer whir remotely somewhere in the room. “Could you take that picture and give it to security please?” I locate the sound of the printer, which is on a recessed shelf and grab it. “This guy is not to be admitted to the party.”
I stare at the colour image. “Oh my God.”
“What is it?”
“You want...” I swallow back the horror. “You want to keep this guy...”
“Away from the party, yes.” He must realise that I’ve gone horrible pale. “Why...do you know him?”
I nod my head. “It’s my dad.”
“Close the door.” His voice was ice. Cold, and so distant, that I trembled as I adhered to his request. “You’re Daniel Garrington’s daughter?”
I nod, still holding the print out, starting at the colour candid of my dad, presumably downloaded from his company website.
“You should leave.” There it goes, the final blow to my self esteem. “Give that to security on your way out.”
I nod shakily, seeing stars as my tears threaten to tip into existence. “What did he do?” I whisper.
“He just cost me millions of dollars in a deal that went sour.”
The penny suddenly drops. “This is your party...you’re him...” I exhale roughly. “You’re Matthew Stone.” The door suddenly knocks and without warning, someone enters. I take my cue, noting it’s someone from security and as I rush past them, I stuff the sheet into their hands.
“Hey!” Reece catches me as I steam past the open plan living room. “What’s wrong?”
“My dad, that’s what...” I hiss.
Reece clamps me by the arm. “Talia, what the hell has happened?”
I drag him with me to the spare room we’d been allocated to store our bags and coats in. I find my belongings, not bothering to put my coat on, simply draping it over my arm so that I could leave.
“Talia,” Reece follows me to the front door, both of us dodging a lighting crew who are coming to do the final decoration preparations to the huge Christmas tree in the living room. “Talia stop!” He gets me to a halt by the elevator, the door just closing as some catering staff clear it, so I stick my hand between the metal, getting it to stay open. Reece’s attention is taken by Andrea who is calling for him and I take that moment of his distraction, hit the button for the ground level and watch as the doors finally close.
Grateful when I find the apartment dark and quiet, I dump my bag in my room before making my way to the small kitchen. I find a note on the fridge door from Selina. She’s gone to Jeff’s apartment and with a New Year message and promise to call tomorrow, I slam the door shut after grabbing an ice cool water. The shock of the coincidence has me shaking. In the dark, I put myself against the countertop, desperately trying to figure out the mess, but I don’t get a chance. Someone thuds heavily on the door and thinking it’s Selina who left without her keys, I open it.
Big mistake.
Matthew Stone barges his way into my apartment. He sweeps in, sending me back against the wall. I gather myself together. “Hey, hey! Get out!” We end up in the living room, lit only by a lamp that I’d put on before I’d aimed for the kitchen. “You need to leave.”
“Did you think that your little act would garner some sort of insider secret? Something your father could exploit and screw me over again?” His presence spooks me. It’s sharp, frightening and he seems bigger and broader...probably because he’s in a much smaller dwelling than his mansion in the sky.
“It was just a horrible coincidence! I didn’t know that the party was for you, I never know, I just turn up and...”
“And...and what?” He steps towards me. “Maybe you thought you’d hurt me, and get some sort of strange added bonus...”
“What...” I go cold. “I didn’t know you were there! I hit you by accident!” The very notion that I could or would hurt someone deliberately makes an awful cold sweep across my senses. “You really need to leave, what my dad did...I didn’t do it.”
“But you knew enough...you knew my name.”
I want to crawl into bed, never to rise again, instead, I slump into a near seat. “I don’t have the best relationship with my dad...but I hear things...and just the other day...I heard him mention your name.” I get swamped by the memories of what added to the ruin of my Christmas...his behaviour had spiralled out of control and I’d heard him mention Matthew by name in a God awful speech where he likened his business deal to something from ancient Rome and the gladiatorial arena.
“He reneged on a deal.”
“And it cost you...” I swallow the lump in my throat, unable to fathom such a vast sum of money.
“I just lost a quarter of my business in one night.”
I stand, trying to force the shake out of my knees. “Then...” I take a quick breath. “You have had a lucky escape.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“My dad, he’s not a good guy and for you to only lose that much...well, Mr Stone, you might have just gotten a lucky break.” I watch him turn on his heel, fury making his hands into fists as he thunders out of the front door. And not a second later, I hear the sounds of fireworks, cheers from the street below and my own phone chiming midnight.
The New Year was here.
I take a long walk the next morning, the
