Free Can You Keep a Secret? by Caroline Overington Page B

let her up?’
    ‘I’ve been here all day.’
    ‘I better check.’ Colby rode the silent elevator to the 79th floor, strode down the corridor, and put his security key in the door. His apartment had windows that looked directly upon the World Trade Center. It was quiet, elegant and empty.
    ‘What the hell could be going on?’ he thought. ‘Don’t tell me she’s ripped me off? Don’t tell me she’s cashed the ticket and pocketed the money?’ But that made no sense. He knew enough about women to know that Caitlin was both smitten and genuinely excited to visit New York. No way would she miss an opportunity to see him. Something must have gone wrong. He went into the kitchen, brow furrowed, and poured a drink – the designer who had been so helpful with wearing in the bed had insisted upon a fridge with an ice-maker – and Colby was still nursing his icy glass, and checking and re-checking his email, when his cell phone rang.
    It was Robert.
    ‘So, are you done shagging her?’ he asked.
    ‘Don’t joke. She’s still not here.’
    ‘You’re kidding?’
    ‘I’m not kidding. She’s not here. I’ve called. I’ve emailed. I’ve tried to get information out of Qantas. Good luck with that. Am I supposed to ring her mother? I mean, Caitlin’s a grown woman.’
    ‘Well, not quite grown,’ drawled Robert. ‘If my memory’s right, she just turned twenty-one.’
    ‘Look, whatever. Yesterday she said she was getting on the plane. Today she’s not here. Does that make her a missing person? Am I supposed to call the police?’
    ‘The police?’ said Robert, alarmed. ‘Look, no, I wouldn’t do that. I realise this is an unfamiliar situation for a smooth guy like you, Colby, but it seems to me that you’ve simply been stood up. Happens to us mere mortals all the time. And Caitlin isn’t silly. I always thought she’d wake up to you. Now she’s shot through with your ticket. Good for her. But there’s no point sitting around, moping. You’ve got to take it in your stride. I’m at Hudson. So is half of Carnegie. We’re toasting your birthday. Come and join us.’
    ‘Oh, Jesus.’ Colby had forgotten that he was supposed to pick up Caitlin from his apartment and take her to his birthday drinks in Midtown. ‘I’m not coming to Hudson. I’ve got a missing person on my hands.’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Robert. ‘You’ve been stood up. Accept it. It happens to all of us.’
    ‘But I don’t get it. She seemed keen.’
    ‘Well, no point sitting home getting drunk,’ said Robert. ‘Far better to come out and get drunk.’
    ‘But what if she shows up?’
    ‘Carlos will let her in. And he can call and let you know. But she won’t show up. You’ve been stood up. So come on, man. Will wallowing at home make it better? No. Will having a beer make it better? Yes.’
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Colby, but then again, what the hell? Caitlin hadn’t turned up, and it was his birthday. He took the elevator down, caught the subway to Columbus Circle, and rode up the yellow perspex elevator to Hudson, with its lawn patio, picnic tables and people drinking boutique beers.
    ‘Look at the long face!’ Robert was pointing the neck of his bottle in Colby’s direction. ‘Stood up for the first time in his life. But never mind: make way for the birthday boy! Let’s get this man a beer!’
    ‘I just don’t get it,’ Colby said. He was genuinely worried. And, if Robert was right, and he had been shafted – well, he was surprised how much he cared.
    ‘Cheer up,’ said Robert. ‘We’ve got a surprise for you.’
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘You’ll see. Come with me.’
    The common area was buzzing. At least half of the patrons were Colby’s friends from Carnegie, Columbia and his home state, Connecticut. The women were polished; the men were rich; the music was cool jazz.
    Robert raised his voice.
    ‘Now, if I could get everybody to stand back,’ he said, using his arms to create a space, ‘the