Manolos in Manhattan Read Free

shit
. She hoped he hadn’t seen her come out of the bathroom with Ciaran.
    “Holly? What are you doing up here?” His glance flitted from his daughter to Ciaran and back to Holly again.
    She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Mr Duncan needed the loo, and the downstairs ones were all occupied.”
    “Oh. I see.”
    “Actually,” Ciaran said, “I was just telling Holly that she and I should do a bit of publicity while I’m in town. Drum up some attention for the store.”
    Alastair eyed him doubtfully. “Publicity? What sort of publicity did you have in mind?”
    “I thought Holly and I might spend a day doing typical New York things – take the Staten Island ferry to the Statue of Liberty, ride a carriage round Central Park, dine at the Russian Tea Room or Tavern on the Green...and visit Dashwood and James’s new store before it officially opens, while the paparazzi snap pictures and proceed to plaster them all over the New York newspapers.”
    Holly, impressed despite herself, regarded him in admiration. He was
good
.
    Alastair was silent. “Well...I don’t know. I suppose it
would
generate a lot of interest…”
    Ciaran smiled, his eyes still on Holly. “You have no idea.”
    “What about me?” Holly turned back to her father. “Has anyone bothered to ask me how I feel about this crazy idea?”
    “Actually,” Alastair mused, “I think it’s rather a good idea.”
    “You can’t be serious.” She stared at him. “You
are
serious. There’s just one problem, or have you forgotten? I’m engaged.”
    He sighed. “Oh, yes. There is that.”
    It was no secret that her father, although he liked Jamie Gordon, Rhys’s adopted brother, well enough, didn’t completely approve of their engagement. He avowed that Jamie, with his long hours and ambitions to become a Michelin-starred chef, would never make proper time for a wife or family.
    Which, Holly knew, was patently ridiculous.
    “I shall speak to Jamie myself,” Alastair said, “and explain that you and Ciaran are doing a publicity junket for the store on‒” he paused “‒what day are we talking about, Mr Duncan?”
    “Let’s see.” He studied the calendar app on his phone once again. “I have tomorrow free.”
    “Tomorrow it is.”
    Outrage swept over Holly. Now she knew how all of those unmarried, Jane Austen-y women must have felt, standing helplessly by as their fathers discussed their future with another man and left them completely out of the loop.
    Well, she thought with gathering anger, she wasn’t helpless and she wasn’t about to stand by as her future – even if it were only tomorrow – was decided for her. She opened her mouth to refuse, to tell them both unequivocally that there was no way in hell she was spending one minute, much less her entire Sunday, with Ciaran Duncan – not even in the name of publicity.
    But she hesitated. She knew how important the store’s upcoming launch was to her father. Dashwood and James was still on somewhat shaky ground, financially speaking; the New York store, if it did well, would go a long way to shoring up the family’s depleted coffers.
    And after all, she mused as she studied Ciaran doubtfully from beneath lowered lashes, it was only for one day.
    She could endure
any
thing for one day. Even Ciaran Duncan.

Chapter Three
    “Fine,” Holly said. “I’ll do it. For the store,” she added pointedly before Ciaran could thank her. She turned to Alastair. “But you have to promise to tell Jamie that this was
your
idea, Dad, not mine.”
    “I promise.” He added dryly, “Thank you for your very great sacrifice for the cause.”
    Ciaran laughed. “I never thought anyone would have to be persuaded to spend time with me. I’m wounded.”
    “And I’m off.” Alastair glanced down at the pashmina dangling from his hand. “Excuse me, but I promised to give this to Natalie – she’s complaining of a chill, although God knows I don’t know what she’s talking about ‒ and return to