A Gift to Remember by Melissa Hill Page A

towards a vacant table down the back.
    He walked patiently alongside her, as if he was used to doing this kind of thing, and she wondered if perhaps he was some kind of assistance dog. She didn’t think that was common to this
particular breed though, and she also got the impression that the Husky was quite young, not much older than a pup. Well, if his owner did depend on him in this manner, she’d try her utmost
to have them back together very soon.
    She fretted, going over the accident a dozen, a hundred dozen times in her head.
    The light turning green, the sound of her brakes screeching, wheels spinning, the brisk air, the smell of fresh bread from a nearby bakery, the supposedly clear intersection and then, bam,
splat, crunch, Darcy’s messenger bag digging into her ribs and the man lying there, flat on his back. Out cold.
    The image made her flinch but all she could see was him, Aidan Harris: his firm chest and broad shoulders under his maroon crewneck, eyes closed; his dark, silken hair lying on the ground.
Adding an extra sachet of sugar to her tea to help counter the shock, Darcy took a sip and eventually sat back, hoping that the weight of the morning’s drama would gradually subside, though
it was impossible to relax when she was still frantic to find out which hospital Aidan Harris had been taken to, and more importantly, whether he would survive.
    Bailey sat on the floor beside her, again as if he was well used to waiting around in places like this, though he was showing an extraordinarily strong interest in her muffin. Feeling guilty,
she broke off a piece and fed it to him. ‘I’m sure you’re used to much classier places than this, though,’ Darcy murmured to him, given his owner’s expensive clothes
and shoes, as well as man and dog’s proximity to the surrounding neighbourhood.
    Given that the guy was out walking his dog, and wasn’t wearing a suit or carrying a briefcase, it seemed unlikely that he was on his way to work. Much more likely that he lived close by
this part of town, perhaps the Upper West or East Side? But there was little point pondering such things; Darcy realised she had no clue about anything to do with Aidan Harris, other than that he
liked dogs and had good taste in clothes (and, it seemed, gifts).
    She reached for the bag again and carefully removed the heavy gift box. The box had such an expensive, luxurious feel to it; so tactile and firm to the touch with faint wired embossing. The bow
was equally exquisite, a rich red, almost maroon in colour. Darcy wondered for whom the gift was intended. Had Aidan Harris been out on an important errand when she’d crashed into him,
diverting his plans, and quite possibly his life?
    She swallowed hard, tears in her eyes. It just didn’t bear thinking about. What if she’d caused serious, maybe even permanent damage? If so, she didn’t think she’d be
able to live with herself and was trying her utmost to banish the thought when just then she heard her phone ring. She stared at the handset for a moment, almost afraid to find out what news her
workmate might have for her.
    ‘Joshua . . . hi,’ she greeted, her voice watery.
    ‘Well, it turns out that I was right, which as you know is a regular occurrence . . .’ Darcy waited impatiently for him to finish his typical long drawn-out introductory spiel,
before eventually getting to the point. ‘So it seems your victim,’ Darcy winced afresh at his choice of words, ‘has indeed been taken to Roosevelt ER.’
    ‘Your friend actually confirmed that the man I hit is there?’
    ‘Well, of course not. It would be more than his job’s worth to give out confidential information like
that
, but after some cajoling, I did coax it out of him that a
pedestrian injured on Sixth and Fifty-Ninth Street had been brought into the ER this morning. So unless Bergdorf are doing the kind of special that would cause pile-ups round there . . .’
    ‘That’s wonderful to know, Joshua,