Unsuitable

by Ainslie Paton

  He took in the bottle. “I need a shower.”

  He smelled of hard work and turned earth and the citrus burn of a mandarin peel. She let him walk past her to his room and she followed. She took a swig out of the bottle for courage and held back the cough. He sat on the bed unlacing his shoes. She stood in the middle of the guest room and knew she had to fix things now.

  “Are you sure you should be drinking that?” He dropped his shoe and pulled the sock off.

  She shrugged. “Probably not.”

  He tackled the other shoe, bending over to reach it, the muscles across his back flaring. She took another swig, the liquid in the bottle sloshed; it didn’t burn going down this time.

  He had the bottle out of her hand, he had her bent backwards, he had her lips claimed before she could think about taking a more sensible approach to apologising for how things were.

  He kissed with the fury of a cyclone, his lips tight on hers, his tongue swirling, tasting, blowing all reason, scattering all thought. He hugged her so close her feet came off the ground and she wrapped them around his waist. He straightened up and took a drag from the bottle, attacked her lips again. The kisses burned and blurred and intoxicated. She would find a way to keep him close, find a way not to let him get hurt by the demands of her life that would rob him of making his.

  He lowered her feet to the ground. “Strip for me.”

  That made her uncomfortable, but she’d started this and he wanted it and she owed him more than her tears. He sat on the bed with the bottle in his hand. He took another slug and she watched his throat work while she took her cardigan off. He focused in on her when she took her shirt off, lifting it over her head, shivering when the air met her skin, but more from the emotional than physical exposure. He wasn’t smiling.

  “Give me your foot.” He patted his leg. He meant to undo her shoes. He put the bottle between his thighs. She put her foot to his knee and he undid her laces, got rid of her shoe and sock, gestured for the other leg. His hair was wet and he’d lost his sunshine, he’d run headfirst into a storm. It was the first time she’d seen this edgy emotion in him. She put her hand to his shoulder to balance while he took off her other shoe and sock. She didn’t know how to make this sexy. She had her underwear and her jeans on. He had thunder caped about him and he wanted her to be his sheet of lightning.

  She stepped back and opened the top of her jeans. He took another swig. She pushed them down her legs and kicked them aside.

  “You know I think you’re beautiful.” He twirled his hand. He wanted her to turn around. “Slowly.” He tipped the bottle up and drank again.

  He was making her nervous. She reached for the bottle and he handed it over. She gulped and coughed and turned in a slow circle, her feet feeling five times too big, almost tripping her up.

  “I get to the do the rest. Come here.”

  She put the bottle on the dresser and went to him. He looked older and more tired than she’d ever seen him. He drew her between his knees and pressed his face to her chest. All the air came out of him. “I’m sorry.” He slumped into her arms.

  She encircled his shoulders, folded over him. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” She stroked her hands over his back. Her giant; her gentle man. Tonight he seemed to fear his own strength, his very capability to be anything but gentle.

  “I’m putting pressure on you.”

  She unfolded and climbed across his lap. “I can take it.”

  He looked up, taking her measure, the conflict in him a heaviness like humidity, hanging between them. “I trust you.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  He dragged her bra straps down her arms, till her nipples were only just covered. “I need you writhing under me. I need you out of control. I need you needing me.”

  “Take it.”

  He tugged and her nipples lifted free and his mouth came down, hot and insistent. She surged up against him and he lifted her, put her down on her back on the bed.

  The first time they’d had sex with him above her she’d understood why he wanted her to ride him, the night she’d gone to him in silk and lace, full of rude nerves and hopeful lust, that close to out of date condom clutched in her hand.

  Above her, the sheer size and power of him was impossible to deny. He could break her neck, her back, a dozen of her limbs without popping a sweat. He could also make her feel so impossibly cherished, so unalterably loved. They’d worked their way around each other’s bodies, an exploration that mapped their favourite touches, ones that made them lose breath, shy away or crave more, so that the first time he braced above her, she was shaking with the need of him.

  He wanted her that way now. He wanted to lose himself in her. He tasted of whiskey and disappointment and she thought of chocolate, of all the things he said he wanted. He was wrong about not offering enough. He offered too much and she dared not take it, hold him to promises; forever and stepfatherhood, he couldn’t fully understand.

  He kissed every secret place that made her pulse leap. He got rid of her underwear and his own remaining clothes. He was edgy and unlike himself and she gave herself over to his impatience.

  He used his hands and mouth on her. “I want to be inside you without the rubber. I want to feel you.”

  They’d had this discussion, they were safe and she still wasn’t ovulating. There was no risk, even if he didn’t pull out in time. She wanted it too. She didn’t hesitate, she curled her hand around him and guided him inside.

  “Holy fuck, Audrey.”

  He closed his eyes tight. He couldn’t stop his hips from pumping. His jaw was clenched, his spine flexed, but rigid. “You feel so mad good.”

  She arched up to kiss him and got his whiskey lips and tongue and wrapped her legs around him.

  He groaned, “No, I won’t want to stop.”

  He put his weight on his knees, took hers in his hands and pushed them to her chest. He got her writhing, he got her desperate. He pulled the thread of her and unspooled her all across the sky, and when she was still unravelling, he withdrew, sliding down the bed, grunting his own release, cupping her belly in his hands and pressing his face to her hip.

  They could’ve avoided that wet patch by going to her bed, but he was sensitive about that. Neither of them wanted to have to explain that to Mia. She knew not to come into Reece’s room and couldn’t reach the door handle to let herself in. And there was no way either of them wanted to move anyway.

  They kissed each other down and next thing Audrey knew he was kissing her awake. He whistled in the shower, his clement weather after his unlikely squall restored. He made pancakes for breakfast and Mia asked him if he was still sad.

  “How could I be sad today? Birds are singing. It’s kindy gym day and Mia loves me.”

  Oh, Audrey loved him too. Loved, loved how he made her feel. Loved the beautiful person he was. Loved what he’d brought to this family and how he made Mia happy. She left the table and went to him, pulled his head down to kiss him. She loved him too much to tell him.

  “Eurgh. Kissing is yuck,” said Mia.

  “I’d come with you to kindy gym again today, but I’m going in to work for a meeting.” Chris had responded. He had time at 2pm and would love to catch up with her.

  Reece frowned. She shook her head. “Don’t worry. It’s a meeting I set up. We’ll see what I can find out.”

  “I have a meeting too,” said Mia.

  “You have a meeting with more pancakes,” said Reece.

  When the pancake gobbler and her minder had gone off to kindy gym, Audrey got dressed in one of her suits. The skirt dragged on her hips and the jacket didn’t fit as it should. She could’ve worn a whole size smaller. But she looked healthy. She looked fit enough to be returning to work in two weeks. If she had Dr Barber’s clearance she could go back now. But no one wanted to risk a relapse, so this extra time was more of a precaution.

  She met Les for lunch at midday. Les waited till their sandwiches and coffees were del
ivered and then said casually, as if it was a pass the sugar. “He loved the lingerie. But it didn’t stay on.”

  Audrey gagged, a piece of fancy lettuce getting stuck in the back of her throat. Les leaned across and thumped her on the back and her eyes teared up as she coughed and coughed. A sip of water later she was able to speak. “You’re still together?”

  Les laughed. “Miracles do happen.”

  “Tell me all about it.”

  “A lady wouldn’t kiss and tell.” Les waved a hand, a very Hollywood gesture. “But Audrey. Oh. My. God. The man has some moves, and the only thing that’s been humiliating is realising how little I thought of him.”

  “You?”

  Les nodded around a mouthful. “I just assumed he’d be all, she’s a lard arse, she’s not desirable, she’s just sport. He never did a single thing to suggest he’d treat me that way, but I treated him like every other guy who did. We almost broke up over me being so insistent about him being a bastard.”

  Audrey leant forward and kept her voice low. “You had sex.”

  “No, we had SEX,” Les yelled.

  Half the patrons and staff in the cafe froze in place. One wit said into the silence. “I’ll have what she’s having,” and there was a ripple of laughter and groans. Audrey nearly choked again, but this time on embarrassment and humour.

  “We have sex all the time. We can’t stop. It’s fantastic. If I wasn’t having lunch with you, I could be having a quickie.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Tell me I’m an idiot for hesitating. For damning the poor guy because he looks like the kind of person who’d sooner tell a fat joke than want to friend a fat person. Aud, he wants to know me. I mean he really wants to know me. He knows I don’t like Chinese cuts of chicken and the whole zombie thing makes me squeamish. He knows my favourite songs and how I get frustrated by supermarket advertising, and he’s never once laughed unkindly at me.”

  “This sounds serious.”

  Les shook her head. “It’s not like we’re going to be forever or anything. He’s not what I want in a partner long-term and I’m not what he wants, but I never thought I’d be saying the words, ‘what I want in a partner’. Never thought I’d have a choice in the matter that wasn’t lose weight and get cosmetic surgery, be alone, or settle for whoever would have me.”

  “Oh, Les.”

  “It’s true. I thought those were my best options. Same as you thought having Mia alone was yours. But Polly’s given me confidence. He’s given me other things too, lots of things that start with the letter O and I’m not going to settle now. I’m going to treat myself with a little more respect, just like he does.”

  “Having Mia alone was my best option.” Nothing was surer than that. Audrey raised her eyes to the waitress. She needed more coffee. There was an email in her box from Barrett she hadn’t opened yet but the subject line was ‘Sydney Bound’. It would be good to see him again. “And I’m so happy for you.”

  “Forget me, what about you? You look well. I know you keep telling me you are, but now I see it. Too skinny still.” Les mouthed the word ‘bitch’.

  “I feel good. No more headaches, no more tingling. I don’t get so tired anymore.”

  “And?”

  “And what? I’m worried about losing my job.”

  “Don’t make me ask out loud, if you’re having,” Les sucked in a breath and Audrey leapt in to stop her making them the centre of attention again.

  “Yes, okay, yes.”

  “And.”

  “Now I’m supposed to kiss and tell.”

  “I just spilled my lard like guts on the table.” Les made a come on gesture. “Give.”

  “Yes, we’re sleeping together, and well, you’ve seen him. He knows how to use what he was blessed with.”

  Les clapped and gave the come on gesture again.

  “It’s good. It’s great. We’re having fun.”

  “That’s it?” Les waved. “Hi, I’m Les. You know, your very good friend. What don’t you want me to know?”

  “Nothing.” Audrey saw the waitress approaching, with luck that would interrupt Les. “It’s like you and Polly. He’s great for my health.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The waitress stopped at their table. She looked at Les. “You’re a feisty one.” She looked at Audrey and rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry we don’t serve alcohol.”

  Audrey settled on a latte then turned her attention back to Les. “I’m in too deep with him.”

  Les’ mouth made an O, but no sound came out.

  “If I’d have found Reece four years ago, before Mia, before the decision to have Mia, before Barrett, I’d have wanted to keep him.”

  “But?”

  “I can’t keep him.”

  “Does he want to be kept?”

  Audrey looked away. Her latte was on its way across the cafe. He wanted to marry her. Last night that’d seemed an immense thing, monstrous, a huge mistake. This morning it didn’t have the same capacity to scare her and yet her career was probably bust and her life set to change all over again.

  “He does.”

  “That’s so. That’s so. I’m incoherent, it’s so exciting.”

  The arriving waitress heard that and couldn’t hide her smirk. Audrey attacked her coffee in an attempt to contain how anxious this conversation made her. She loved Reece, but it was confusing. It was too easy to love him because he made her days run smoothly, because he made her nights so thrilling. He’d saved her life again and again and how could you not be a little in love with that, and with the gentle, unruffled nature of him?

  Half an hour later, waiting outside Chris’ office she felt nauseous. The next few minutes might determine her future and further complicate her relationship with Reece.

  Chris’ door opened and he popped his head out and beckoned. “Audrey, come in.” He gestured to a lounge suite setting by the floor to ceiling window. She had no eyes for the view today.

  “You gave us such a scare. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m well. I gave me a scare too.”

  “I had no idea meningitis could be such a deadly disease. I spoke to your specialist myself. Take a seat, but can I have a hug first. I really thought we might lose you.” He opened his arms awkwardly, he blushed too. He’d once been a much closer colleague and it was easy to forget that he was still a friend.

  They hugged, quickly, with more feeling than grace and avoided the lounge to take an armchair each and regain their distance. They exchanged a few more pleasantries about Mia, about the new decor in the office and then he said. “What can I do for you?”

  Audrey hesitated. He’d opened a big door. He might have asked what date she was expected back or talked about what workload she’d pick up. He might’ve asked if she was mentally ready to return, if she’d had second thoughts perhaps after what she’d been through. These were the scenarios she’d talked through with Les. That’s what she’d have done in his place, especially if the news wasn’t going to be good, eased into the idea of a redundancy. Instead he’d created space for her to play with.

  “You could promote me.”

  Chris frowned. She couldn’t take it back. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She’d filled that free space with a very large, pulsating idea.

  “I wondered if you were coming in here to resign. You went through the kind of experience that can make a person rethink their life.”

  “I’m ready to come back. I miss work.”

  The top half of Chris’ face kept broadcasting concern, but he smiled. “Your projects were in a mess when you got sick. Not your fault, but it didn’t endear you to the people who had to take up your workload. You’ve had extensive time off.”

  She nodded. She’d had more time off than she was eligible for, but no more than was necessary.

  “And we’ve been generous in paying you for leave you weren’t strictly speaking entitled to, and now you want to sashay back in here with a promotion.”


  She smiled too. It was either that or fold her hand. “You asked. That’s what I want. It’s what I deserve.” She said that passionately and it helped her not cringe when she went on to say what a man would, despite the boasting that made it sound incredibly self-serving. “I’ll make an excellent director. I won’t give you any reason to regret promoting me.”

  He stood up. He was terminating the conversation. At best he’d say something vague that told her nothing. At worst he’d be straightforward and say no. Or maybe it was the other way around. This is not how she expected this to go, she expected to be reading between the lines to understand how likely she was to keep her existing job.

  He held his hand out; there’d be no more hugs. “That’s what I want too. I’ve wanted this since we spoke about you being passed over when you had Mia. That was a dastardly piece of business. Being a parent of any sex, single or otherwise has no bearing on your value to us. I meant to redress that, but I was tardy and then you fell ill. We need to make it easier for women coming back after having a child. We need to make it easier for men to take paternity leave. We’re a long way from good on those ideals. You will make an excellent director, and if you give me any reason to regret promoting you, you’ll hear about it.” He smiled. “Plus I’ve been studying voodoo and I’ve got me some pins with your name on them.”

  She stood, put her hand in his; it was less a shake than two people holding hands for a moment, sealing their deal. They grinned at each other and Audrey had to stop herself from laughing.

  “There are tough times coming. I want you back to help see us through them.”

  He’d never guess she had that sussed. “I can do that.”

  Chris withdrew his hand. “No more scares like that, Audrey. Screw up on an account, but don’t make me stand in a hospital waiting room wondering if I’m going to lose someone who’s important to the business, important to me personally.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Anything else you need?”

  She nodded. “I’d like to try that hug thing again. I know it’s not politically correct but I’ve just had some very good news.”