Fairytale of New York Read Online Free PDF

stature and personality, was Jane Masterson-Philips, a fortysomething history specialist whose biographies on great Americans had won her much critical acclaim. Her whole appearance seemed to be pulled back and neatly pinned in place, just like her tight chignon.
    The final member of the group caught my attention the most. He was younger than the rest—my guess was about thirty-two or so—with a laid-back casual air and clothes to match. I was instantly reminded of a phrase Mum often uses to describe my brother, James—‘he’s always so comfortable in his own skin’. Aware I was staring, I checked myself and looked at Mimi. But before she could introduce him, he steppedforward. He effortlessly swung one hand out of his trouser pocket to meet mine in a single movement.
    ‘Hi,’ he smiled, his voice soft and low, ‘I’m Nathaniel Amie. Call me Nate.’
    ‘Nathaniel works for Gray & Connelle Publishing,’ Mimi informed me. ‘He’s a professional pessimist and the protagonist of many a nightmare for us in the literary fraternity.’ This description seemed far removed from the apparently warm and easy-going person I had just been introduced to.
    Anya guessed my reaction and explained, ‘Nathaniel is the one who decides whether or not our precious works reach print. Thankfully for all of us, he has taken big risks to make sure we’re published.’
    ‘And we love him dearly,’ Jane added, her cheeks reddening as Nate winked playfully and brought an arm round her for a quick squeeze.
    ‘I love you all too,’ he replied, then shook a finger at Jane. ‘But you still have to make those changes we discussed today before I’ll let it through.’
    ‘See what I mean?’ Mimi confided. ‘Absolute nightmare.’
    ‘I see you’ve met my wonderful friend,’ sang Celia, breezing in. ‘Mimi, you simply must let her create the floral decor for your upcoming Winter Ball. She is a genius !’
    I winced as I caught Nate’s amused expression. ‘Genius?’ he mouthed, his dark chocolate eyes twinkling with fun. I tried to smile and looked at my empty glass to avoid his stare.
    ‘Well, sure …’ Mimi said as she consulted her pocketbook and produced a business card. ‘Any recommendation from Celia Reighton is well worth following up. Give me a call next week, Rosie, and we’ll discuss.’
    ‘Thank you.’ I replied, taking her card. Celia was beaming so brightly she could have lit up Times Square all by herself.
    ‘Do you have a store?’ asked Brent, taking a small black leather notebook from his jacket pocket and brandishing a pencil. ‘It’s my wife’s birthday at the end of the month and I’d love something special for her.’
    ‘No problem,’ I replied, handing him a business card, pleased with these new opportunities. ‘I’m on the corner of West 68th and Columbus. The store’s called Kowalski’s. Come in and we’ll design something original for you.’
    ‘…And you’re guaranteed something special. Rosie’s designs are to die for,’ Celia emphasised with a manic grin and a flamboyant gesture reminiscent of one of those over-zealous salesmen on cheap TV commercials. ‘Now I won’t allow you to hog my florist a moment longer. I’m whisking her away!’ And, grabbing my hand, she was good to her word.
    As we left the group and they returned to their conversation, I was aware that Nate Amie didn’t move to join them. Celia was already introducing me to someone else, but I could see Nate looking at me across the room. He raised his glass to me and smiled, then turned back to his friends.
    Much later, when the food had been enjoyed, the speeches made and the conversations done, Celia was still beaming.
    ‘An incredibly successful evening all round, I think,’ she proclaimed.
    ‘Absolutely,’ I agreed, taking the last arrangement from the table and handing it to her. ‘To the hostess for her latest overwhelming triumph.’
    Celia clamped an impassioned hand over her heart. ‘A Kowalski’s