“You’ve been moping around too long,” Uncle Auggie agreed. “It’s not healthy.”
Hallie bounced in the air, unable to contain her joy. New York! Dakota! They would be reunited, and the past silent, lonely weeks would be forgotten. Everything would be all right again!
“Eeee!” She let out a delighted shriek. The universe had aligned again; fate was on her side once more. “When do we leave?” she demanded, ready to go race to the airport that very second. “How long are we staying? What do I need to pack?”
They didn’t leave for another two weeks, but for Hallie, the days passed in an excited blur. Time may have dragged by unbearably slowly since Dakota left, but with the prospect of seeing him bright on the horizon, Hallie rushed breathlessly through her preparation and packing. There was so much to do! Salon visits, and shopping, and picking out the perfect outfits that would make him fall right back at her feet where he belonged. She barely paused to think of the alternative — there was none, surely! — fervent with excitement until the moment they arrived in the bitter cold of New York; whisked away from the airport in a plush limo and delivered to the Waldorf-Astoria for the week.
“You’re in the Empire Suite.” The concierge passed over their room keys at check-in.
Amber giggled, bundled in a huge white ski jacket with fake-fur trim around the hood. “You hear that, girls?” She nudged Hallie gleefully. “The Empire Suite. And would you look at that tree?”
Hallie couldn’t care less about the holiday decorations. “Are there any messages?” she demanded. The concierge glanced at his screen.
“Nothing, Miss Weston.”
“Are you sure?” she checked. “No flowers? Or chocolates? Six-foot stuffed teddy bears?” Dakota had always been more subtle with his gifts, but you never knew.
“I’m sorry.” He gave her a vague smile. “We’ll call up to your room the moment anything arrives.”
“Fine.” Hallie exhaled, looking carefully around the gleaming lobby, in case Dakota was lurking behind the twenty-foot tree, waiting to serenade her in person. Now, that would be an apology! But there was nothing except a ten-part all-boys choir, fa-la-la-ing in front of the blazing log fire.
“I should call him again,” Hallie decided as they headed for the elevators, two bellhops trailing them with Amber’s full collection of designer luggage. “I sent him all my flight details, but he’ll want to know we landed safely.”
The doors closed behind them. Grace studied her with an unreadable gaze. “So he called you back?”
Hallie paused. Trust Grace to start speaking to her long enough to drag down Hallie’s good mood. “Well, no,” she admitted, “but I’m here now. He’ll be in touch to see me, for sure.”
Amber patted her arm. “Of course he will. And until he does, we’ve got plenty to do!” A dog yapped in agreement, poking its head out from the flaps of a monogrammed leather carry case. Amber couldn’t bear to be parted from them, even for a week, so Marilyn and Monroe had flown with them, tucked in their own seat in the first-class cabin. “I love the city in winter.” Amber sighed happily. “It’s just like my favorite movie.”
“Manhattan?” Grace suggested.
“Legally Blonde?” Hallie couldn’t help but offer.
“No, silly.” Amber beamed. “Serendipity!”
Their suite was vast and luxurious: a master suite for Amber, huge queen beds in Grace and Hallie’s shared room, with a view of Central Park, and a whirlpool tub big enough to fit a small army. Not that it mattered to Hallie: she left the others to tour, gasping, and made straight for the gift basket waiting on the polished walnut table, full of chocolates and expensive spa products.
Hallie snatched up the card. Of course he hadn’t let her arrive without some small — or not so small — token of his affection! “ ‘Enjoy the break. My girls deserve their fun . . .’ ” She trailed off. “It’s from Uncle Auggie,” she said, disappointed.
“Awww,” Amber cooed. “How sweet. And he sent Godiva, my favorite!” She popped a chocolate truffle into her mouth. “That man is a gem.”
Gem was the right word. Namely, diamonds. Somehow Hallie didn’t think Amber would be cooing if they were checked into the Holiday Inn, eating vending machine Cheetos.
Hallie left them to the candies and went to check her e-mail. Girls like Amber made their choices, but some things were more important than money and status — like true love. She and Dakota had talked about it all the time: about how they wouldn’t sell out like everyone else. It didn’t matter if they were starving off in a garret somewhere, they would stay true to their art. And each other.
No new messages.
“Ready?” Amber appeared in the doorway, changed from her in-flight Uggs to three-inch-heeled snow boots. “We’ve got time to hit Bloomingdale’s, and then some dinner before the show!”
“You go ahead,” Hallie decided. “I’ve got a headache coming on, so think I’m just going to relax here today. Recover from the flight.”
Amber gave her a look. “You’re not waiting for him to call, are you? Because that’s never the way to get a guy, just sitting around. You’ve got to be out there, making him jealous!”
“No!” Hallie forced a laugh. “I’ll take a bath, order room service. I’ll be fine! Really,” she insisted.
“Well . . . OK, then.” Amber blew her a kiss. “Order the lobster. Whenever I go anyplace fancy, I always order the lobster.”
They headed out, leaving Hallie alone in the quiet of the empty suite. She sank into one of the lounge chairs, taking in the silence.
He would call. She knew it.
But he didn’t. Hallie idled in their room all afternoon — restlessly playing with the TV, unpacking her entire wardrobe, even taking a long bubble bath — until darkness fell outside, and New York was spread in a grid of glorious lights outside the hotel. Hallie curled in a window seat, gazing out at the winter wonderland. It was beautiful, but all she could think of was those nights she spent up on Mulholland Drive with Dakota, watching L.A. crawl by in the distance as they planned their grand adventures; the hope and dreams they were going to make real.
And now he was somewhere out there in the city, having his grand adventure. Alone.
The headache she’d faked to Amber became real: blossoming behind her eyeballs in a hot rush of pain as Hallie traced her fingertips over the glass, trying to imagine it. But she couldn’t. Everything they’d said, all the plans they’d made, they had all been about the two of them — together. He’d promised her!