One Wish In Manhattan (A Christmas Story) Read Online Free PDF Page B

restaurant and looked up to see a waiter stood next to him, dressed in the Mancinis uniform of cream tuxedo with a maroon waistcoat and matching bow tie.
    ‘I apologise for disturbing you, Mr Drummond, but I wondered if anyone was joining you for dinner tonight,’ the waiter asked.
    Oliver nodded his head. Yes, that was exactly what he needed to get over the earlier hospital drama. His mind wandered back to Doctor Khan. She had virtually prescribed stress relief. Maybe it was time to follow the doctor’s orders.
    ‘Absolutely, Ricco.’ Oliver let his eyes roam around the restaurant, falling on the other patrons. He looked away from the couples holding hands across the table, the businessmen, the over forties. Who was left? There was a group of four women half a dozen tables away from him, two blondes, two brunettes. They weren’t too loud, they hadn’t started eating yet and each of them was impeccably dressed. Then he spotted her. Sitting at a table in the very corner of the room, just close enough for him to see everything he needed to see. Hair the colour of honey, fingers wrapped around a glass of white wine, black day-to-night dress.
    ‘Ricco, send a glass of your best champagne to the lady over there and ask her if she’d care to join me?’ He nodded in the direction of the corner table.
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    Before the waiter turned to depart Oliver spoke again. ‘And Ricco,’
    ‘Yes, Mr Drummond?’
    ‘We’ll both have the salmon.’
    ‘Very good, sir.’
    Oliver sat back in his chair, took another sip of wine and waited to see what would happen. He didn’t really need to watch. He was certain of the outcome. After all, what woman would refuse free champagne and the opportunity to dine with a billionaire?
    His chest creased suddenly, making him sit a little uneasy. Straight away the fear flooded his every part. He swallowed, trying to home in on the background music of instrumental Christmas schmaltz he couldn’t stand. It wasn’t working and he could feel his head starting to throb. No, this was not happening. He wasn’t going to give into it no matter what ‘it’ was. It’s a heart attack . Your number is up. You’re going to die.
    He shook his head, trying to dislodge his subconscious. The beautiful doctor’s diagnosis began to run over his mind again as he tried to focus on Ricco, approaching the honey blonde with a glass of champagne on a silver tray. He didn’t have time for stress, or death. He had to fight, not give up like his father and brother had done.
    Oliver pulled in his stomach and sat up in his chair ignoring the twinge in his pectoral muscles. He watched the woman accept the glass the waiter was offering and seek him out. She raised the glass a little, a bashful smile on her lips. He swallowed down the pain. He wasn’t going to let it get in the way of his evening. He was in.
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    H er name was Christa . She was in New York for two nights and this was the second of them. It was perfect. She was staying at the Bryant Park Hotel, her boss had reserved the table and she was visiting for a conference. She was in cosmetics, nail polishes and something called acrylics for a national company named Cuticle. She talked a lot and after her third glass of champagne her Idaho accent really came out. She was just the sort of distraction he’d needed.
    ‘Sorry, Oliver, I’m boring you. You don’t want to hear about French manicures and the latest in Gelish.’ Christa put her glass down on the table, nearly toppling it over in her haste.
    ‘I never knew it was so complicated,’ he responded. ‘But I have to admit, if we’re being really honest here, nails aren’t the first thing that attracts me to a woman.’ He kept his eyes on her and was rewarded with her gaze and a soft smile taking over her mouth.
    ‘Is that so?’ She placed her hand on the table, smoothing the linen cloth with her fingers. ‘Are you gonna tell me what is the first thing that attracts you?’
    She looked