Treacherous by Barbara Taylor Bradford Page A

about such things, she was growing agitated. “His television
team is getting the Edward R. Murrow Award for their reporting on human trafficking.”
    “Talk about
festive,” Fiona murmured, raising a brow.
    “Figure it out,
Fiona. Please.”
    Fiona studied
her friend. “You’re practically shaking, Hayley. Are you sure you don't have strong
feelings for Luke?”
    “Of course I
have feelings for him. But not the kind you're thinking. He's like a brother. Romance
would be like incest! Ick.” She made a face, grimacing.
    “Okay, okay.
Got it,” Fiona said, examining the huge calendar that was displayed on the wall
opposite. It was covered with neat printing which denoted events scheduled well
into the next year. It hadn’t always been that way.
    For the first
few years, Celebration' s calendar was practically blank. A small wedding,
a party on election night. They had even agreed to do a child’s birthday party.
Anything to get them noticed by the people who gave the glittering events for
which New York was famous.
    The girls had
supported themselves, and the fledgling business, by taking on any job they
could get, sometimes two jobs at a time. They did telemarketing, dog walking,
were even cocktail waitresses in a club that catered to “gentlemen in the
sanitation removal business.” More precisely, wise guys connected to the mob.
    No one had told
them this, but it took Hayley, with her street background, only a few seconds to
make that call. But even though the guys were connected to the Mafia, they were
good tippers, and treated the girls with their version of respect. So they
stayed and worked at the club.
    There was one
job Fiona had taken which was never, ever discussed, even by the two friends
who shared everything. At one moment in time, Hayley stumbled on the truth of
what Fiona had been doing on weekends, and it staggered her. “Why, Fiona? Why
would you , of all people, do something like that?” She had sounded
horrified.
    Fiona’s
response had been dramatic. She had walked out of the apartment and disappeared
for two days. The subject was never broached again. Some things, Hayley knew
from experience, were best not spoken about.
    There was no
need for second jobs to pay the rent these days. When someone was planning a
grand event in New York City, Celebration more often than not received the
first call. They had even been able to move their company uptown, to a building
with an elevator in the more socially acceptable East Sixties.
    Oddly enough,
it was the birthday party for a ten-year-old that had put them on the map. The
child’s grandmother was a well-known socialite. She had a wonderful time
playing the old-fashioned carnival games the girls had rented and, with a word
from her, the bookings started to come pouring in.
    “If it's so
important to you, Hayley, that we do Luke's party, I’ll make it work.” Fiona was
moving things around on the calendar. “Who do I speak with to confirm?”
    “Oh, I already
told them we’d do it.” Hayley smiled innocently at Fiona. “I knew you’d make it
happen.”
    “You’re incorrigible.”
    “So I’ve been
told. Anyway, all you have to do is meet with Luke, and find out what sort of
evening he’ll be comfortable with. He doesn’t like a lot of fuss.”
    “Hayley, he’s
your friend. You should meet with him.”
    The color
drained from Hayley’s face. “You know I can’t do that! I don’t do meetings. That’s your department.”
    Hayley and
Fiona were equal partners in their business, but the roles carved out in that
school yard long ago never changed. It seemed natural that Fiona, with her inventiveness
and easy way with people, would be the face of the business. She was the
one who met with potential clients to plan the event, was photographed
accepting thanks from socialites, senators and honorees for a perfectly planned
occasion.
    It was Hayley
who, by choice, labored in the background, executing that perfect planning.
While Fiona