She pressed her lips together and nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘Opportunities like this were rare. People hold on to inner-city property. You won’t often find something like it on the market. So I jumped. We got some secure financial backing, and it was full steam ahead.’
‘The day I came to see the tenants, Keith and I had a heated disagreement in front of the leadership team, which ended up in an ultimatum that the project had to succeed, or I was out of the company.'
Charlotte considered this. ‘So,’ she said, ‘you’ve had your career riding on this all along. But didn’t you want to get out anyway? You just said you only stayed because of your nana.’
‘At first, I didn’t want to be there at all. But I made the most of it, and as the division grew, I thought I might eventually get what I want. Even after Keith started sabotaging the Boundary Street project, I thought I could still come out on top.'
‘And that’s why you fought so hard.’
‘I know I’ve been an arsehole at times, and I’m sorry. Keith has been pulling all manner of strings behind the scenes, and it’s been tough to stay ahead of him.’
‘Was the bribe one of those strings?’
‘The bribe, the plans, the finance.’
‘They weren’t your plans, were they?’
‘No.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘Well that makes sense. So what happened yesterday? How did you go from giving us notice - ’
‘I didn’t - ’
‘Okay, okay. From Keith giving us notice, to the project being canned?
‘Last weekend I came across an email between Keith and Wally, and that’s how I found out about the bribe. It dragged up all the memories I’d worked so hard to suppress, and at first I was paralysed by it. I didn’t know what to do. But there had to be a way to stop it, and get myself out of it with something, in the least my reputation, intact. The answer wasn’t coming to me, and then when you called on Thursday night and asked me about it, I knew I was out of time. In the end, it was with a bit of help from Keith’s own ruthless daughter that I came up with a plan.’
‘Cassette knows what’s going on?’
‘Yes. What I did in the end was her idea.’
Charlotte turned a suspicious eye on him. ‘So does that mean what you did was all above board?’
He smiled slowly, thinking he might delay answering that question for now. They’d hardly touched their food. The wind was gently blowing in through the French doors, and the music was soft and relaxing. He didn’t want to eat. He wanted to hold her.
‘Dance with me,’ he said, reaching across the table for her hand.
‘What?' She left him hanging.
‘Dance with me.'
He came around behind her chair and pulled it backwards. When he reached for her hand again, she accepted, though with uncertainty.
He led her into a loose slow-rocking West Coast swing dance. He drew her in slowly, rolled her around his shoulders and released her, only to pull her back into his embrace again. It was slow and sensual. There was no space between them as there should be with swing. But it was right, because they were finally dancing together. He almost had her as close as he wanted her. Needed her.
‘I didn’t know you could swing,’ she said, looking up at him.
‘Well, given I’m still a relative novice, I’ll take that as a compliment.’
She raised an eyebrow, waiting for further explanation.
‘I made a deal with Cassie a while back,’ he said. ‘She needed me to be her handbag to help cover her affair, so I traded her for swing lessons. I followed her out to clubs and the like, and she came to lessons with me.’
Charlotte nodded slowly. ‘So that’s why you were everywhere all of a sudden.’
‘I soon realised the added perk was that in amongst those crowds, I might find you, so I went along with Cass for longer than I usually do. Plus, after I saw you dance, I wanted to be the one making you light up the floor. I couldn’t bear the thought of you in someone else’s arms.’
To press the point, he pulled her closer, rocking her gently in time with the slow jazz. When she nestled against him, he decided to continue his story.
‘When I spoke to Keith, I told him I was willing to walk away, forget what I knew, the evidence I had, if he was willing to make a new deal. He was. So in exchange for my silence, he’s handed over a few key pieces of real estate and a payment equivalent to the budget for my division. I’m going it alone.’
She pulled back and looked up at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Hmm, so not all above board, then.’
‘There’s crime, Charlotte, and then there’s justice,’ Craig explained. ‘Keith got what was coming to him.’
‘I suppose that’s reasonable.' Charlotte tightened her grip on his shoulder and in his hand. ‘So is that what you've been doing since Cassette dropped your phone in the toilet?’ she asked.
‘It is. And it’s legally binding.'
‘Wow,’ she breathed. ‘That was quick. And your first order of business was to stop the Boundary Street development. For now, or for good?’
‘I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I did see some good designs I might consider,’ he said, grinning down at her. ‘Regardless, I won’t be going near it until after the next council election.’
‘Well, that will give me time to work on the locals. And convince you to keep the current tenants.’
‘Does that mean I’ve brought you around?’ Craig asked.
Charlotte’s smile was coy.
‘In a fashion,’ she said. She'd been listening intently, allowing him the time and space to explain himself. It was worth the wait. Rocking gently to the soft music and spinning in and out of his arms alone would have made it worth the wait. But understanding what had been driving him was the icing on the cake.
Though now it was time to do some explaining of her own.
‘I’m definitely glad that monstrosity is not going to be built, and the pressure has come off Ben and the Hoangs,’ she said. ‘I’m glad the locals are happy.’
‘Why do I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming?’
Charlotte met his gaze. She took a deep breath. ‘But… I’m going to close the gallery regardless.’
Craig baulked, but he didn’t seem annoyed, as she’d thought he would be, especially after everything he’d been through over this wretched development. ‘Why’s that?’ he asked.
‘You don’t mind?’
‘Why would I mind?’
‘I thought you might have stopped the development because you thought it was what I wanted.’
‘It is what you want, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. For Ben and the Hoangs.’
‘I know that, Charlotte. It’s always been about everyone else for you. But I’m keen to know, why are you going to close the gallery? What are you going to do for you?'
Charlotte sighed. That was just one of the reasons she loved him. He wanted to know about her, what she wanted, and he made her feel it was important. She smiled at him.
‘Emily doesn’t need the Evans Gallery any more. Without her, I don’t have the drive to keep going, to keep struggling just to make the rent. It doesn’t mean enough to me.’
‘What does mean enough to you, Charlotte?’ he asked.
You.
She held his eyes as he gently tossed her backwards, before pulling her back to him again. ‘I’m going to do what I should have been doing all along,’ she said. ‘What I lost sight of until you came along and unstitched my life.’
‘You’re not scowling at me. Can I take it to mean you’re okay with me doing that?’ he said.
Charlotte grinned and snuggled back into his waltz hold. ‘The development proposal forced me out of my safe, steady little world. I had to open my eyes to other possibilities. At first, it was just about relocating, but when I was looking at other spaces for lease, I felt this overwhelming need to draw again. When I was sketching those designs for Boundary Street, it was the first time in ye
ars I felt like there was promise in the world. That something I was doing, something I enjoyed doing, was going to make a difference. The thought of going back to the gallery after that is just so…so suffocating.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘The first step will be finishing my degree.’
‘That’s great, Charlotte. You’re brilliant, you know. It would be a crime for you not to.'
She smiled shyly at him. ‘You know, it was you who reminded me of what it is I am truly good at. And when I hear you talk about your work, about what could be, you light fires within me that make me excited about the world again.’
‘I light fires within you?’ he asked, slipping the hand cradling her back, down to her hip.
‘Mmm,’ she murmured, pulling back a little to look up at him, to drink him in.
He released her hip and her hand to cradle her face. His lips sought hers, gently at first, as though asking permission. She gave it to him by wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him enthusiastically. He groaned with delight, and his kiss became more urgent as his arms slipped around her to pull her closer.
Just before her knees gave way, he pulled slowly, reluctantly away.
‘Now that you're closing the gallery,’ he murmured against her lips, ‘I expect you’ll have some free time on your hands.’
‘Well, I need to get a job,’ she said. ‘The uni fees won’t pay themselves.’
‘You don’t need a job,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘I’m going to take care of you from now on.’
Charlotte pulled back a fraction and looked up at him. His eyes were sparkling, and he was struggling to contain his grin.
She played along. ‘Sounds lovely, but I’m not really the kept woman type.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I’m going to make you work for it.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes, really. There was another important piece of real estate that came in the deal with Morgan Carmichael.’
She eyed him, attentive.
‘This place,’ he said. ‘It’s mine now.’
Charlotte considered this. ‘Hmm, perhaps there’s more to this law-breaking stuff than I thought.’
‘It’s about justice, Charlotte, justice.’
‘I’ll try to keep that in mind.’
He smiled. ‘Good, because I want you to restore this place with me. I can’t contract it out to just anyone. You, on the other hand, get it, and with you, I think I could do it justice. I want to spend my days with you, trawling through hardware stores, chasing tradies and painting walls. What do you say, would you do that with me?’
Charlotte’s face lit up. ‘Are you kidding me? I get the guy, and I get to play in the fabulous Art Deco apartment building as well?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Is it fair? What do you get?’
He smiled and reached up to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. ‘I didn’t know how far off track I was until I met you,’ he said. ‘I was wasting my life trying to please someone who wasn’t interested in what I have to offer.’
‘I’m interested in what you have to offer.’
‘Well, from now on I will focus solely on trying to please you.’
‘I like the sound of that.’
‘I love you, Charlotte. All I want is you,’ Craig said.
She saw it in his eyes. ‘I love you, too. It’s absolute madness, of course,’ she said, grinning happily. ‘You’ve blown into my life and turned it upside down. But somehow, in the process, you’ve set me free, and changed my life forever.’
Craig held her gaze for a moment. ‘I think this could be forever,’ he said eventually, softly brushing his thumb across her lips.
‘Me too,’ she agreed, and kissed him thoroughly, promising precisely that.
###
Thank you for purchasing Set Me Free.
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If you did, would you please consider leaving a review?
Reviews help other readers, including those with similar taste to yours, filter through all of the books available to find ones they might like.
Thanks again and warm regards,
Jennifer.
About the author
Jennifer Collin writes quirky, and sometimes gritty, love stories about ordinary people dealing with what life throws at them. She lives in Brisbane, Australia, with her husband, two noisy children and a cantankerous cat. She used to party, but now her idea of a good time is an uninterrupted sleep. These days, her characters do her partying for her, and she doesn't necessarily let them sleep.
You can connect with Jennifer by visiting:
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Want to know what will happen to poor, lost Emily?
Keep reading – an excerpt from Open My Eyes follows.
Open My Eyes
By Jennifer Collin
Chapter one
‘I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,’ said Emily Evans, making herself comfortable on the closed toilet seat. ‘I barely even know you.’
‘It’s a good idea,’ said Annie Martin, standing over her in the confined space. ‘This way you can stop wondering. You’ll know.’
Emily looked at Annie, whom she’d known for all of eight hours, and with whom she was now sharing the scariest moment of her life. Dressed in skinny black jeans and enormous boots secured by half-a-dozen big brass buttons, Annie certainly wasn’t oozing moral support. Above the jeans, her black velvet jacket was cropped, the back laced with a satin ribbon. Her thick brunette hair was tied up in a chignon. Deviant Victorian schoolmistress up top, modern-day biker down below; don’t-give-a-crap attitude all over. Emily liked Annie. It wasn’t often you met someone you clicked with right away.
In a toilet cubicle of a nightclub on the twenty-second floor of a Kyoto high-rise, petite Annie in her chunky boots climbed onto the toilet seat behind Emily to peek out the tiny window high on the wall above. Her lithe figure made Emily feel like a bloated frump beneath her shapeless A-line mini. Her tights might be holding her stomach in, but the water retention in Emily’s ankles was out there for everyone to see. At least the dress concealed her exploding boobs.
‘You should see this view,’ Annie said.
‘I’m not sure “view” is the right word. I doubt that window was put there for its vantage points,’ Emily replied, looking up.
‘You’ve got to make the most of what’s at your disposal, I always say. Come on, get up here and take a look.’
Sighing, Emily stood and checked her watch. Only two of the ten minutes had passed. She may as well look; it was one way to kill the time. Dusting herself off, she climbed up next to Annie, balancing on one foot at the back of the ceramic toilet.
The view was spectacular; the city was glowing. Who needed stars when you had all of this radiance? Far below, vehicles flowed in a silent river of light, the usual traffic sounds obscured by their elevation, the hum of the bathroom ventilator, and the dull bass beats thumping through the bathroom walls. Kyoto seemed to stretch forever and from up here, it was disorienting. Somewhere out there was Arashiyama, the little village within the city Annie had shown her that afternoon, with its quaint little shops and delicious coffee.
Annie climbed down. ‘How are we doing for time?’
Emily followed and checked her watch again. ‘Six minutes to go.’
‘Should we peek?’
Emily moved the urine-soaked stick behind her back. ‘No, I don’t want to have any doubts. I want to wait.’
‘Okay. Should we talk about the what ifs then?’
‘No, let’s not.’ Definitely not.
Two giggling punters burst into the ladies’ room, filling it with their animated chatter. Annie grinned at her, and they waited in silence unt
il the Japanese girls had left.
Emily dropped her head into her hands. ‘I can’t believe I let you talk me into doing this in a place like this.’
‘I can’t believe you went along with it,’ said Annie, picking at her cuticles.
‘Hmm,’ said Emily. ‘I’m starting to think I’ve given you the impression I’m easy to manipulate. First, you have me traipsing halfway across the city seconds after I’ve met you, and now I’m peeing on a stick for you.’
Annie winked at her again. ‘But aren’t you having fun?’
Emily laughed. ‘As much as I can given the circumstances, I suppose.’
‘Well, I am,’ said Annie. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve hung out with an Aussie, let alone one from Brisbane. And it’s nice to make a new friend. I’ve been living over here so long now I’ve lost touch with all my old ones. Hey, you know what? We should move in together when we go back home. We both need a place, and we get along great. Whaddya say? I’m super clean.’
‘I’m not,’ said Emily. ‘Could you live with that?’
Annie smiled. ‘I’m willing to give it a go if you are.’
‘I don’t know … How do I know you’re not some weirdo?’
Annie gestured to her outfit. ‘Hello? Doesn’t this give it away?’
Emily laughed.
Earlier that day, Annie had found Emily wandering through Kyoto Railway Station searching for an espresso not made by Starbucks. Her honey-blonde hair had marked her as a curiosity for the passers-by, and there had been a lot of passers-by. Annie rescued her, took her to find a decent coffee and, a few hours of sightseeing later, Emily had made a new friend. She could do worse than share a flat with Annie.
‘Okay,’ said Emily. ‘When are you getting home?’
‘Three weeks.’
‘Cool. That works for me.’
The beats from the club paused, then a muffled roar from the crowd heralded the start of a new song.
Annie groaned. ‘I absolutely hate this band,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming.’
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