Kick Back

by K J

  Magic growled good-naturedly. “And none of them would be right. So th’ committee at th’ shelter, ‘specially me an’ Keenan an’ Dom who look after th’ finances an’ stuff, we were sayin’ how it was lookin’ really tight for th’ next six months an’ how some of th’ programmin’ would have t’ get scrapped.”

  Sophia nodded. “Yeah?”

  Magic grabbed Sophia’s forearm. “We don’t have to now. This fuckin’ enormous donation came in yest’day. I mean, fuckin’ enormous. Like hundreds of thousands. An’ then we find out that th’ lease on th’ shelter building’s been renewed indefinitely, ‘cause some rich dude bought th’ buildin’, which is, like, how the fuck? An’ we’re not gonna have t’ pay rent. An’ it’s all legit. We checked. Th’ money is anonymous, but th’ lease is with some company called B.Art—”

  “Bart?”

  “Yeah, you’d think, bu’ it’s written capital b, dot, capital a, r, t, like someone’s initial and last name.” She wiggled her hands about her head. “Anyway, it’s insane. So, you still comin’ in t’ run the sports program?”

  Sophia stilled Magic’s hands. “I’m going to hug you now, okay? Just warning you.” She grinned, then wrapped the skinny woman into her arms and held her. “Of course, I’m going to keep on running the program.” She pushed on Magic’s shoulders, both of them with tears in their eyes. “I reckon it’ll be easy to split my time between Provender, Hart Street, and my position as the new assistant senior coach of the women’s team at the South Melbourne Football Club.” She smirked.

  Magic’s face split into an enormous grin, then she punched Sophia’s shoulder. “Look at you! Well done, mate.”

  Sophia threaded her way towards Cam, having left the helmets behind the counter with Magic. The softest of kisses met her lips when she reached their table. “Good morning,” she teased.

  “Good morning back at you,” Cam said, her eyes shining with humour and affection. Sophia slid into the seat opposite.

  “I have coffee at my flat, you know.”

  “Oh, please. It’s instant and the only resemblance it has to actual coffee is that it’s brown.”

  Sophia slid her hand over Cam’s on the table, smoothing the knuckles with her thumb. “Do you feel like going for a ride after this? There’s something I want to show you.”

  Cam raised an eyebrow. “Flo can take me anywhere she likes. The fact that I get to wrap my arms around you while doing that is a bonus.” She laughed at Sophia’s wry smile, then pulled her glasses off to swipe the napkin across the lenses, and Sophia watched Cam’s automatic actions, as she fiddled nervously with the container in her jacket pocket.

  Their conversation topics drifted like air currents ambling across the sky. Sophia’s new role, Cam’s job, the fall-out from the article, Magic’s revelation about the donation—a knowing grin crept onto Cam’s lips at that discussion point—and Lin’s pregnancy were touched upon while they shared smiles and gazes and finally Magic wandered over to tell them that their sickly-sweetness was outdoing the cakes in the display case.

  “Like you can talk,” Sophia said, rolling her eyes, then looked past Magic and spotted Pina at the counter. Sophia delivered an open-hand salute off her temple. Hi. Then strung together a series of gestures, ending with her fingertips and thumb of her right hand pressed together near her temple, exploded them apart, then quickly held her left hand in an ‘okay’ symbol and ran her right thumb around the ring that was created. Your girlfriend is being a smartarse. Magic cracked up and had to lean on the back of Cam’s chair for support, while Pina, not even attempting an entire sentence, simply shrugged as if to say ‘what else is new?’

  Cam grinned. “I think I got the gist of that.” She slid off her chair, shrugged into her jacket, and hugged Magic.

  “I’ll see you back in here soon?” Magic asked.

  Cam cut a glance at Sophia, then back to Magic. “Oh yes, I’ll be around.”

  Sophia had decided days ago on the perfect location, and when she brought them to a stop in the carpark closest to the ground, Cam recognised it as well.

  “Why are we at this field?” she asked, undoing her helmet and handing it over. “This is where you attempted to teach me how to kick a football and I’ve been in therapy ever since.” She grinned. Sophia smiled, grabbed her hand, pulled her close, and kissed her gently.

  “Come on. I want to show you something,” she murmured, then they strolled through the avenue of trees—flashing their winter skeletons—that framed the crushed sand pathway, over the boundary fence, and out to the centre of the field. She pulled Cam down and they sat cross-legged opposite each other, knees touching. The grass was damp but not wet. And spongy, the tightly-packed blades creating a cushion for their bums. Cam pressed her fists into the turf, obviously recalling how springy it was. She smiled at Sophia.

  Sophia tried to think of something witty to say, something clever to start with, but her mind had tumbleweeds whooshing through it. Shit. This wasn’t supposed to be how this happened. Cam caught the speck of panic flitting across Sophia’s face.

  “Sweetheart?”

  Sophia’s stomach twisted at the vulnerability, then she stared into Cam’s beautiful soft brown eyes. The ones that flashed with fire and burned with an intensity so fierce that whoever she was looking at felt seen. Sophia’s nervousness began to settle. Cam saw her, and that made everything okay.

  “I…” she said, then clutched Cam’s hands. “I tried. I tried really hard to build my wall higher and higher, and you kept finding a longer ladder each time. And,” she smiled at Cam’s quizzical look, “then you just stood there and made me take the wall down myself.”

  They spent a long moment quietly looking at each other. Cam seemed to realise that she didn’t need to contribute yet, so Sophia continued.

  “You were right, all those months ago, when you said I don’t do relationships. I don’t.” Cam inhaled quickly, withdrew her hands and clasped them in her lap. She raised her eyebrows, and Sophia rushed into her next sentence. “I don’t do relationships. Plural. But I’d like to do one relationship. With you. If you’ll have me. But I now come with some strings attached.” She reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out the little wooden box, and Cam’s eyes blew wide.

  “Um, Soph?” she whispered.

  “I really want to be with you. I’ve got some strings, if that’s okay?” Gently cracking open the lid of the box, Sophia teased out one of the beautiful gold threads she’d bought at the tapestry shop a few days ago. She held it between her thumb and forefinger and laid it across Cam’s palm. “So this string is about how much I laugh when I’m with you, and your laugh makes me feel shiny and light.”

  She separated another thread. “And this string is because I feel seen with you and I feel brave and I hope that I do that for you, too.” Cam’s eyes were filling with tears, and it looked very much like she was holding her breath. Sophia gave her another string. “This one is for the way you twist one of your curls around your finger when you’re distracted and its adorable and I get really mushy inside.” That comment earned her a wet smile, and more tears, some spilling down Cam’s cheeks.

  “These strings are related,” she said, passing over three threads that shimmered in the sunlight. “They’re because you challenge me, you confuse me, and you excite me, and it’s wonderful and I want to be that for you.” She disentangled the last two threads, handing one to Cam, whose eyes were darting from Sophia’s face to the little handful of string pieces and back. Her expression was one of total wonderment.

  “This string is for the fact that you see my bullshit and call me on it when I deserve it.” Cam laughed softly. “And this one? This one is because I want you to have all of me, which is something I’ve never given before, but it feels right with you.” She shrugged lightly and dropped the final piece of thread into Cam’s hand. “You feel right.”

  For a long minute, they looked at each other, eyes roving over faces, memorising their features.

&
nbsp; “Soph, this is wonderful and beyond the most gorgeous thing anyone has ever done for me,” Cam breathed. She curled her fingers into her palm, enclosing the threads as if they were made of spun glass. Sophia gestured with the little wooden box, its lid now closed.

  “I bought a box for them,” she said somewhat pointlessly. Cam’s face was a beautiful collage of wonder, and awe, and affection, and hope, and gratitude, and then her mouth quirked up at the side; a very Cam gesture. I love Cam’s smile. Sophia blinked. Yes. Love. She wasn’t ready to say the words yet, but soon. Probably in the next few weeks. She watched Cam open her mouth to speak, but Sophia wanted to say more about her strings. Maybe the ‘I love you’ could happen later tomorrow when—

  “I love you.” Or now, apparently. Sophia blinked at her brain’s impulsivity, then gaped slightly, and watched Cam’s teeth grab hold of her bottom lip.

  “You didn’t mean to say that, did you?” Cam’s eyes danced with mirth. Sophia wrinkled her brow.

  “Um…”

  “Did you mean it?” Cam took the box from Sophia and carefully replaced the threads inside. She held it in two hands, then looked up.

  Sophia nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

  Cam pinned her with a look. “Good. I like it when your brain leaves your head for a minute. Feel like saying it again? Because it sounded really nice the first time.”

  Sophia’s mouth split into a grin. “I love you.” She held Cam’s face with her hands. “I really do. There. That’s the really big string. I love you.” Cam beamed, carefully laid the box on the grass, then leaned forward to kiss Sophia. After a moment, Cam pulled away.

  “I hereby accept all those strings. Including the really big one, because I love you too, Soph.” She scooped up Sophia’s hands. “I fell in love with you the moment you asked me out and I said no and you were so utterly gob-smacked at being rejected.” Cam giggled at her scowl. Then Sophia chuckled.

  “I wanted to tell you all those things here.” Sophia tapped the grass. “Because this is how, where, and why we met. It felt important to be here.” Cam inhaled deeply, and nodded.

  “Yeah, it does."

  Sophia unwound her legs and stood, holding her hand out for Cam, waiting until she had scooped up the box and slid it into her jacket.

  “Feel like a walk through the gardens?” Sophia’s question was met with a solid kiss, Cam flinging her arms about Sophia’s neck. Sophia brought her eyebrows together. “I mean, it could get cloudy and even more cold, but—”

  Cam pressed a finger to Sophia’s lips, then she tapped it on Sophia’s chest in time with her words. “That’s. The. Anxiety. Talking.” Then Cam leaned closer. “She needs to shut the hell up,” she whispered.

  Sophia’s lips curled at the edges. “You know?” She held their close eye contact. “That whisper thing? Crazy sexy. You should whisper everything from now on.”

  Cam’s eyes narrowed, and her smile grew wicked. “Really? Everything? Want me to whisper something else right now?”

  Sophia’s breath caught. “Yeah.”

  Cam pushed up on her toes so her lips were touching Sophia’s ear, which sent delicious shudders throughout Sophia’s body. Cam’s words drifted in very softly.

  “I used the last of the cereal this morning.”

  Epilogue

  One month later

  Bianca stepped out of the sleek electric blue Mercedes E-Class coupé. It was this year’s model, not that she really noticed the difference between this car and the one from last year. Probably the lining on the bottom of the cup holder had more bumps or something. But she updated the car each year for the sake of appearances. Not hers. Other people’s. She rolled her eyes, slammed the door with a satisfying thunk, and pulled the black Chesterfield coat around her body.

  She strode across the crushed rock driveway, and tried to ignore the ridiculously ostentatious mansion ahead. A superficial glance gave all the information needed to form an opinion about the occupant of the house. Sweeping gardens, ornamental ponds and fountains, hedges and shrubs trimmed into three-dimensional shapes, columns outlining the wide staircase to the front door. With her coat, fitted cashmere sweater, plaid-trimmed wool pants, and Prada boots, Bianca blended in beautifully, but resembled nothing of her carefully cultivated Bianca Artino persona. The closely-cropped brown-with-red-highlights hair she’d had recently styled added to the illusion.

  Bianca knew she wasn’t conventionally pretty. Not like Cam or many of the women in the social circles she moved in at parties. But she was striking and knew how to camouflage, like a social chameleon. She hefted the knocker and let it fall against the wood. It was a statement about her personality and her level of comfort in each environment that she felt more at home as Bianca the snarky Bohemian, utilising her own middle name and her grandmother’s maiden name, than she did as Rebecca—

  “Ms. Turner.” The butler, Maximilian, opened the door widely, his smile genuine and kind. Bianca strode through, and blew her smile into a grin.

  “Hello, Max. How are you?” She removed her coat and passed it over.

  “I’m very well, Ms. Turner. And yourself?”

  “I’ll get you to call me Rebecca one day, Max.” They chuckled, knowing that would never happen. “I’m well. Been busy. How’s Tiny? Not at the vet again?” She gazed at the face of the man she’d known for four years. Max smiled beatifically.

  “No, thank goodness. He’s eating much more sensibly now.” Max folded the coat over his arm. “Mr. Turner, Mr. Rossi, and Mr. King are in the conservatory, where brunch is being served, if you’d care to join them.” Bianca lifted her eyebrows.

  “Nathaniel has guests?” She curled her lips. “Lovely. I actually do care to join them, Max. Thank you.”

  Nathaniel looked up from the dining table as Bianca’s boots clicked across the marble into the light-filled room. His guests followed suit; Samuel Rossi with his florid features above his rotund frame, and Caleb King, tall and exact, and peering over his spectacles, which perched low on his austere nose. They all seemed surprised at her arrival. Nathaniel rose to his feet, swiftly followed by the others.

  “Rebecca! What a lovely surprise.” He stepped forward to kiss each of her cheeks, an affectation that drove her bonkers. “I wasn’t aware you would be here this morning. I thought your flight came in tonight.”

  Bianca smiled, leaned over to shake hands with Samuel and Caleb, murmuring their names by way of greeting, then smiled at Nathaniel. “That was last month.”

  His smile fell away, and he gave a nervous chuckle. “Are you checking up on me?”

  Bianca giggled, hating herself for the necessity of that response. “Of course not. I just thought I’d stop by and see how my big brother was going. That’s all.” She wandered over to the armchair in the bay window and settled into it, like she had all day to sit and admire the view across the lawns. “I’ll just wait here while you finish up. I’m assuming it’s about the company, so don’t mind me.”

  She kept an ear tuned to their conversation, while Bilan, the Somali maid who worked in Nathaniel’s house, delivered a tray of coffee and pastries with her trademark stunning smile. Bianca grinned in return and murmured a quick ‘thank you’. Nathaniel, at forty years of age, and a decade older than Bianca, was the Chief Executive Officer and Chairman of Turner Media. Samuel held tightly to his role of Chief Strategy Officer and Caleb’s job, as Chief Communications Officer, was to put the Teflon spin on the already spun media which came from the washing machine that spat out the opinions for the public to consume. Bianca always wondered, after all the spinning, if anyone ever knew what the original truth actually looked like.

  Bianca gazed vacantly out the window, as she listened intently. They seemed to be discussing the recent scandal involving a member of Parliament and what value assisting his downfall would have on the current government. She clenched her teeth. The whole thing made her sick, but at least she could do her part to ensure that there were some checks and balances on important
issues. Her father, who understood the original purpose of media, had split the company shares in his will, so that Nathaniel and Bianca had each received half. However, two years after his death, their mother had also died and bequeathed all her Turner Media shares to Bianca. Nathaniel, who enjoyed media for what it could do for people like him, enjoyed the CEO role, but she knew it chafed his balls that she wouldn’t sell him her shares. It was never going to be an option. Not when it was so particularly delicious to know that, as majority shareholder, she got to fuck with the company she owned.

  Nathaniel sent another glance in her direction. Probably the sixth, if Bianca was counting, which she wasn’t. Obviously her visit had disrupted his equilibrium for the morning, which made her smile fiercely into her coffee cup. These unannounced visits to keep up Turner sibling appearances afforded her the luxury of being able to disappear afterwards for extended periods of time.

  Caleb’s sonorous voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Perhaps you would like to join us, Rebecca? We’re not having a formal meeting so there’s nothing too strenuous being discussed.”

  Bianca rolled her fingers into a fist beside her thigh, then looked up and smiled. “I’d love to.” She pulled out a beautiful Scandinavian wood dining chair and smiled at Bilan, who had magically appeared with fresh coffee.

  Samuel pushed another pastry into his mouth, brushing crumbs from his hands. He spoke before he hadn’t quite finished his food. “You seem to be an enigma, Rebecca,” he said, decorating the linen cloth with minuscule globs of almond flakes. Bianca lifted an eyebrow.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I was just saying to Nathaniel the other day that if you’re going to gallivant about, travelling here and there, doing God knows what, and only turn up to the Annual General Meeting, then there seems little point in even being associated with Turner Media. Either sell out or take your place on the board.”

  “Mm,” Bianca said, nodding slowly. “That’s a very interesting idea, Samuel. I’ll give it some thought.” She held his gaze. “No.”