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  PRAISE FOR MIRANDA DICKINSON AND I’LL TAKE NEW YORK:

  ‘I’ll Take New York is like meeting up with your very best friend, full of charm, warmth, wit and wonder, you’ll never want to say goodbye.’

  Rowan Coleman

  ‘Miranda works her magic again … a sparkling, romantic, feelgood gem of a story with massive heart.’

  Julie Cohen

  ‘Miranda Dickinson has given us yet another wonderful warm-hearted and wise novel with characters you can’t help but fall in love with. I’ll Take New York is the perfect treat to snuggle up with on a cold winter’s evening.’

  Ali Harris

  ‘Warm, feel-good and utterly enchanting, I’ll Take New York will magically transport you into a world you won’t want to leave.’

  Cally Taylor

  ‘The characters are irresistible, the settings magical – I was transported to the New York of my dreams, for the tiniest fraction of the air fare. The perfect treat for readers who already know and love Miranda’s novels – and those who have yet to discover her fantastic story-telling.’

  Kate Harrison (bestselling author of The Secret Shopper series)

  ‘The perfect book to curl up with on a cold winter’s eve.’

  Closer

  MIRANDA DICKINSON

  I’ll Take New York

  Copyright

  AVON

  HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  77–85 Fulham Palace Road

  Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2014

  Copyright © Miranda Dickinson 2014

  Cover illustration © Eum Hayoung 2014

  Miranda Dickinson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9781847562340

  Ebook Edition © December 2014 ISBN: 9780007574360

  Version: 2014-11-27

  Dedication

  For my lovely friend Ebs.

  This isn’t quite the top of the Empire State,

  but it’ll have to do – Zupini Girls forever! xx

  ‘New York is where you prove if what you think in theory makes sense in life.’

  Miuccia Prada (1949–)

  Contents

  Cover

  Praise for Miranda Dickinson

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter One: Stromoli’s restaurant, 11th Street, Brooklyn

  Chapter Two: Departures Hall, San Francisco International Airport, California

  Chapter Three: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Four: Jake’s apartment, 826B Jefferson Street, Williamsburg

  Chapter Five: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Six: Kowalski’s, corner of West 68th and Columbus, Upper West Side

  Chapter Seven: Celia and Stewart’s apartment, 91st Street Upper West Side

  Chapter Eight: Private loft apartment, Upper West Side

  Chapter Nine: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Ten: Chez Henri, Upper West Side

  Chapter Eleven: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Twelve: Private loft apartment, Upper West Side

  Chapter Thirteen: Private loft apartment, Upper West Side

  Chapter Fourteen: Private loft apartment, Upper West Side

  Chapter Fifteen: Private loft apartment, Upper West Side

  Chapter Sixteen: Vacant office suite, McKevitt Buildings, Broadway

  Chapter Seventeen: Beads & Beans craft and coffee store, Brooklyn

  Chapter Eighteen: Jake’s new office, McKevitt Buildings, Broadway

  Chapter Nineteen: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Twenty: Jake’s practice, McKevitt Buildings, Broadway

  Chapter Twenty-One: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Jake’s practice, McKevitt Buildings, Broadway

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Bea’s apartment, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Jake’s apartment, 826B Jefferson Street, Williamsburg

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Monty’s Italian restaurant, Columbus Avenue, Upper West Side

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Beads & Beans craft and coffee store, Brooklyn

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Jake’s practice, McKevitt Buildings, Broadway

  Chapter Thirty: Corner of 42nd Street and Park Avenue

  Chapter Thirty-One: Kowalski’s, corner of West 68th and Columbus, Upper West Side

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Cheese-A-Go-Go!, SoHo

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Thirty-Four: The Comedy Cavern, 7th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Jake’s practice, McKevitt Buildings, Broadway

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Javacious coffee shop, East 43rd Street

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Celia and Stewart’s apartment, 91st Street, Upper West Side

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: W New York Hotel lobby, Lexington Avenue

  Chapter Forty: Imelda’s apartment, 7th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Forty-One: Empire State Building, 5th Avenue

  Chapter Forty-Two: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Forty-Three: Harry’s Bar, Midtown Manhattan

  Chapter Forty-Four: Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Chapter Forty-Five: The Steinmann family home, Hampton Bays, Long Island

  Chapter Forty-Six: The Steinmann family home, Hampton Bays, Long Island

  Chapter Forty-Seven: The Steinmann family home, Hampton Bays, Long Island

  Chapter Forty-Eight: Apartment 18D, 142 Allen Street, Lower East Side

  Chapter Forty-Nine: Jake’s practice, McKevitt Buildings, Broadway,

  Chapter Fifty: Christmas in New York

  Chapter Fifty-One: Sheehan, Sheehan and Owen offices, East 43rd Street

  Chapter Fifty-Two: Bea’s apartment, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn

  Chapter Fifty-Three: Sheehan, Sheehan and Owen offices, East 43rd Street

  Chapter Fifty-Four: Central Park, Manhattan

  Chapter Fifty-Five: A yellow New York taxi, travelling west, Manhattan

  Chapter Fifty-Six: Kowalski’s, corner of West 68th and Columbus, Upper West Side

  Chapter Fifty-Seven: Kowalski’s, corner of West 68th and Columbus, Upper West Side

  Chapter Fifty-Eight: Kowalski’s, corner of West 68th and Columbus, Upper West Side

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  By the Same Author

  About the Publisher

  CHAPTER ONE

/>   Stromoli’s restaurant, 11th Street, Brooklyn

  ‘Bea?’

  Five more minutes …

  ‘Bea, honey, why don’t we just order? I don’t think he’s …’

  ‘He’s definitely not …’

  ‘Shh! Can’t you see she’s upset?’

  ‘What? I’m just saying …’

  He’ll be here. I know he will …

  ‘I think he stood her up.’

  ‘Could you say that any louder? Only I don’t think the waiter in the restaurant across the street heard you …’

  ‘Maybe we should wait a little longer?’

  ‘The fact is, he hasn’t just stood Bea up: he’s stood us all up …’

  Bea James closed her eyes and willed her gathered family members to stop voicing the thoughts in her own head. Of course, they were right. They had waited nearly two hours already and now even the laid-back waiter in Stromoli’s restaurant was snatching not-so-subtle glances at his watch.

  Bea’s father wasn’t likely to be silenced by her mother’s attempts. Even though he respectfully lowered his voice, Bea was still aware of every word. ‘If we don’t order soon, the kitchen will close and we’ll end up at Pete’s twenty-four hour diner. And you know what happened the last time I chanced a Reuben there …’

  Her Uncle Gino and paternal grandfather Gramps mumbled in support.

  ‘He said he would be here,’ Bea’s mother hissed back. ‘He specifically asked us all to be here. We rescheduled our holiday to be here. Now why would he ask us to come if he had no intention of turning up?’ She reached across the table towards Bea. ‘Darling, have you checked your phone recently? Maybe he’s been unavoidably delayed?’

  ‘Or maybe he’s the schmuck we all thought he was,’ Aunt Ruby snorted. Never one to shy away from speaking her mind, Ruby had been uncharacteristically quiet this evening – until now. Bea knew this was the first comment of what would quickly become a flood.

  ‘That’s enough, Ruby! Think of poor Bea …’

  Staring defiantly at the white linen tablecloth to avoid the concern of her family, Bea heard a chair scrape back on the other side of the table. Moments later, the vacant chair beside her – the one he should be sitting in right now – was occupied by the familiar hulk of her brother.

  ‘He isn’t coming, is he?’ she whispered, lifting her head towards him.

  Stewart’s expression said it all. ‘Maybe we should just order? If Otis comes I’m sure the kitchen will accommodate him.’

  ‘I can’t believe he’s done this.’ Bea was close to tears. ‘I’ve left ten messages on his mobile but he isn’t responding. How dare he let me down like this?’

  ‘Personally, I’d kick any guy to the kerb who makes me wait two hours for dinner.’ Ruby’s voice soared above the hum of evening diners in the neighbourhood Italian restaurant and Bea heard the stifled giggles from several of her family members. That was it: Otis had lost his last chance to prove himself.

  ‘Let’s order,’ Bea blurted out, causing everyone to stare at her. ‘Otis clearly isn’t planning to join us. So please, let’s just eat.’

  As her family descended on the menus, much to the relief of the waiter, Bea stood. Stewart caught her arm but she smiled at him as best she could and dismissed his concern.

  ‘I’m OK. I just need some air.’

  Standing outside on the darkened sidewalk of 11th Street, Bea stared up at the heavy raindrops falling from the plastic awning across Stromoli’s entrance, finally allowing her tears to fall. All she had wanted for this evening was for her boyfriend to keep his word. This had been his idea, not hers, and his efforts to gather her family from both sides of the Atlantic had suggested that there was an important reason why he wanted the collected James family present. He’d said he had something to say to all of them and something he wanted to ask Bea. How could it have been anything other than what everyone had suspected?

  She had invested so much in this relationship, often feeling as if she were the only person in it. She had forgiven Otis when his promises fell through, plans backfired or willingness to commit waned. They’d had their problems, but then didn’t every couple? She thought of the gathered members around the long table at Stromoli’s, who by now were no doubt ordering everything on the menu. All of them were happily married – even Aunt Ruby, whose courageous husband Uncle Lou had signed up for just shy of forty years of wedded bliss before his heart gave up the battle last year. Sure, they argued, the women of the James family were famous for their feistiness, but history would record generations of long, successful partnerships. Bea had hoped that Otis calling everyone together this evening was a precursor to her name being added to that list. And her family had made no attempt to hide their expectation of his intentions, which – in the light of his absence – made everything a million times worse.

  Grasping her mobile, Bea called Otis for the last time that night.

  ‘Otis, this is it. I don’t know what you’re playing at and, to be honest, I don’t care. I’m done. Don’t call me again.’

  Ending the call, Bea closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Departures Hall, San Francisco International Airport, California

  ‘Are you sure you have everything?’

  ‘I’m sure. All my worldly possessions that didn’t leave for New York in the movers’ van this morning are in my backpack.’ Jake Steinmann forced a smile as the woman beside him dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief. ‘Hey Pam, it’s OK.’

  Pam Lomas – Jake’s faithful PA for the past seven years – shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s not OK. It’s not OK that your wife’s given up on you like this. It’s not OK that you have to abandon your whole life because of her latest whim. Can’t you reconsider? You have so much in San Francisco: why leave it all now?’

  Part of Jake agreed with her. It was unfair – but then, everything that had happened in the past month had felt that way. He shouldn’t be the one to leave: as far as he had been concerned their marriage was a happy one. But realistically what choice did he have? Sure, he could stay in his adopted city and wait for Jessica to change her mind. He could carry on, pretending that life was untouched by his wife’s decision to leave him. But he knew, deep down, that to stay in a city in which every street, sidewalk and brick seemed imprinted with her name would be the end of him. Better to nurse a broken heart on the other side of the country.

  ‘New York’s not so bad.’

  ‘It’s the East Coast, Jake! Where you’re just a number in a big city and nobody cares who you are unless you do something for them.’

  ‘I was born there, remember? I may have the West Coast attitude and a better tan now but I’m a New York guy at heart.’ He put his hand on Pam’s shoulder as she let out a loud sob. ‘Don’t worry about me, OK? I’m going to be fine. My family are in the city, my friends from before I met Jess … I won’t be alone.’

  Pam gazed up at him, mascara streaking down her cheeks. ‘Well, I guess I have no choice but to trust you on that. But you’d better call me, every week. I want to know everything. You promise?’

  He had promised, his heart heavier than he had anticipated. Once on the JFK-bound flight, Jake closed his eyes and willed the chasm of loss to close within him. Of course, Pam was right: he wasn’t the one to end his own marriage, so why should he be the one to leave?

  The trouble was, Jessica didn’t seem to see the injustice of the situation. Yesterday they had met for the last time, in a small neighbourhood coffee shop near her office, for Jake to hand over the keys to their Russian Hill house. He had hoped the finality of the act might coax a little understanding from her, might somehow break through the steel-strong walls she had erected around her heart. But even as they made polite small talk about Jake’s plans for his New York relocation, it was clear all Jessica cared about was getting on with her life. Her life – which consisted of nothing changing other than her gaining more closet space in her bedroom and considering the possibility that
she might let out the spare room to help pay the bills. Her comfortable job in interior design, the expensive social life she pursued, her Cabriolet and her weekend yacht would all remain. ‘It’s easier this way,’ she had said, as if she were discussing a subject she cared nothing about.

  Easier for you, Jess. Not for me …

  He hated the lightness of her attitude, the way she smiled after every flippant comment, regardless of the pain each one inflicted. He should be glad she wanted to leave him. He should be celebrating …

  And yet, even as he had watched her stride away along Mission Street and out of his life forever, his heart still ached for her. He told himself this was inevitable: after all, only six weeks beforehand he’d thought he had the happiest marriage in the world. I’m still in shock, he decided. It hasn’t sunk in yet …

  But now, as the lights of San Francisco Bay fell away from view through the aircraft windows, it suddenly felt very real. He was leaving the life he had so carefully built over seven years behind him, with no guarantee he could successfully rebuild it on the other side of America.

  I won’t be alone, he had assured Pam as they stood by the departure gate. But now, twenty thousand feet and rising above the Californian coast, Jake Steinmann felt more alone than he ever had before.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Hudson River Books, 8th Avenue, Brooklyn

  Bea looked up at the oversized clock above the counter. Five more minutes and then she was leaving.

  She had known it was Otis calling last night even before the answer machine clicked into action, but she had no intention of picking up. His voice sounded pathetic and insincere as it entered her apartment where she was hiding after the debacle at Stromoli’s:

  ‘Bea – it’s me. I am so sorry. Give me a chance to explain, please? I know I screwed up. You have every right to walk away. But don’t do it until I’ve had a chance to explain. Give me an hour tomorrow and I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I can come to the bookstore. We’ll talk. And you’ll see why I couldn’t be there tonight. I’ll call your family and explain, too. I feel awful, Bea, you have to believe me … Hell, please pick up the phone? I know you’re there …’