He patted her hand reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, I will.’
They walked down the hall and back into the main auditorium. The noise level had risen substantially, music was playing, and a few people had started to dance. The actual auction would not be held until later in the evening after enough alcohol had been consumed to ensure impulsive spending.
Speaking of which, Jo veered to the left when she spotted a waiter with a tray of champagne. She picked up a glass. ‘Thanks.’
‘Didn’t you want to get out of here?’ Joe asked her.
‘I’ll drink fast. Uh-oh,’ she pulled a face. ‘Steel yourself.’
Lachlan was coming towards them and Jo could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. She proceeded to skol down the rest of her champagne.
‘Hi there, Lachlan,’ Joe greeted him first.
‘Bannister,’ he nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute, Jo? In private,’ he added, casting a rabid glare in Joe’s direction.
‘We were just leaving,’ she said. ‘Joe’s going to take me home.’
‘You could have asked me to take you home.’
‘No, I couldn’t have. Or at least, I wouldn’t have.’
‘Can I take your glass, ma’am?’ asked a different waiter, appearing at her side.
‘Sure you can,’ she drawled. ‘As long as you give me a full one in return.’
He smiled, passing her a glass of champagne as Jo set the empty one down on the tray. ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking a slurp.
‘Jo,’ said Lachlan, grabbing her arm, ‘a word, please?’
The band started to play ‘R.E.S.P.E.C.T’, right on cue, as though they were in a movie and that was the soundtrack for the auction scene. Jo looked at Lachlan’s hand clenched around her arm and then back up at him. He released her arm.
‘Go dance with your wife, Lachlan. Let’s get out of here,’ she said to Joe.
They made their way across the room, Lachlan didn’t follow them. On their way out, Jo noticed another waiter by the door. She drained her glass and swapped it again for a full one as they walked through into the foyer.
Joe was watching her. ‘Do you really want that?’
‘I really do,’ she replied, taking another sip. Well, more of a gulp.
‘It’s your third in as many minutes.’
‘But who’s counting?’
He sighed a quasi-parental sigh. ‘Come on then, let’s get you home.’ He led her towards the front entrance as she scoffed down the third glass and promptly burped. Joe looked faintly appalled.
‘Sorry, but I had to finish it, I can’t take the glass with me,’ she shrugged, leaving it on a stand near the doorway. As they walked out into the fresh air, the champagne made its way to the appropriate sector of her cerebral cortex and Jo suddenly felt a little woozy. She grasped Joe’s arm with both hands as they crossed to the kerb.
‘Are you right?’ he asked.
‘Uhuh,’ she nodded, making a mental note not to move her head so quickly.
He raised his arm as a taxi pulled over.
‘You know what, let’s walk a while,’ said Jo as he opened the passenger door.
He considered her doubtfully. ‘You want to walk in those shoes?’
‘Come on, it’s a beautiful night.’
He sighed, leaning down to talk to the driver. ‘Sorry, the lady has decided she’d prefer to walk.’
‘Yeah? Well, next time the lady ought to make up her mind before she makes you hail a taxi.’
‘Hey,’ Jo objected, leaning down to look inside. ‘I didn’t make him, and don’t you talk to my friend like that.’
‘Have you ever thought you should keep your mouth shut occasionally, lady?’
Right. ‘Hey! You’re not talking to your wife now, buddy!’
Joe promptly hoicked her clear and closed the door, and the taxi took off, screeching away from the kerb.
‘Wow,’ Jo called after him, ‘that showed us.’
‘He can’t hear you, you realise.’
She shrugged, taking his arm again as they started down the street. She winced, these were probably not the most appropriate shoes for an evening stroll. Jo had always marvelled at women who could run for a bus in shoes like this; the girl with the triple barrel name from that Sex in New York City show was clearly a freak of nature. Jo felt as though she was teetering along on a pair of romper-stompers, and about as ungainly.
‘So what exactly happened in there?’ Joe said after a while. ‘I couldn’t really understand what you were saying over the phone.’
Jo had been able to forget about all that for a few moments, distracted by champagne and taxi drivers and shoes, but now the bathroom scene reared its ugly head again, making her queasy.
‘Jo?’ he prompted again.
She took a breath. ‘I bumped into Lachlan’s wife in the ladies’. She knows, she’s always known.’
When he didn’t respond, Jo nudged him with her elbow. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘I heard, I’m just not exactly surprised,’ he said. ‘I told you this could happen.’
Jo stopped, taking her hand from his arm and perching it on her hip. ‘You told me Lachlan’s wife would corner me in the ladies’ room and ask me to lay off her husband?’
‘Is that what she said?’
‘Yes, only she was very polite about it. She just said that he’s been agitated and unhappy lately, and that if I was thinking of breaking it off with him, perhaps I should make it a clean break.’
‘So what’s the problem?’
‘Huh?’
‘Well, did you tell her you have broken it off with him?’
‘No,’ she declared, walking off again.
‘Why not?’ he asked, falling in beside her.
‘Why not what?’
‘Why didn’t you just tell her you’ve broken off with him?’
‘Because I haven’t, as such.’
‘What does that mean?’ Joe stopped walking this time.
She turned around to look at him. ‘I haven’t had the chance, he only got back the other day.’
‘So you haven’t seen him until tonight?’ he frowned.
‘I saw him yesterday. Briefly.’
‘And?’
‘It wasn’t the right time.’
‘Oh, and it wasn’t the right time before he left either. Just when will it be the right time, do you think?’
‘What’s with the tone?’
‘Nothing,’ he muttered, starting off up the street again.
Jo trotted after him. ‘What’s your problem?’
‘I don’t have a problem.’
‘You could have fooled me.’
‘No,’ he swung around to look at her. ‘I’m not the one with the problem here, Jo.’
‘Hoh!’ she exclaimed indignantly. ‘What do you mean by that?’
He glared at her. ‘You know exactly what I mean,’ he said, marching off again.
‘No, I don’t,’ she persisted, catching up to him and grabbing his arm. ‘Spit it out, Joe.’
He turned to look at her. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if you have any intention of ever breaking it off with Lachlan.’
Jo shook her head, frowning. ‘That’s ridiculous, I just haven’t had the chance,’ she repeated slowly and distinctly.
‘Yeah, well, I’m not going to play the hysterical mistress and start begging.’
‘That is so sexist,’ Jo declared.
‘Oh great, let’s have an argument about sexism now, waste half an hour on that.’
‘Oh, you think that would be a waste?’
‘Fuck this,’ he said, striding off ahead.
She couldn’t keep up with him. ‘Joe!’ she called sharply.
He turned around.
‘So you’re just going to walk away?’
He sighed loudly. ‘I never wanted this, Jo, I tried to back off when I found out you were with him. But you kept leading me on.’
‘Ex
cuse me?’ she shrilled. ‘I wasn’t the one showing up at your place with bottles of wine and asking you rollerblading and saying this is “on the record”, and then kissing you!’ she cried. ‘You’re the one who’s been . . . courting me.’
He frowned. ‘What did you say?’
‘Courting,’ she repeated airily. ‘Okay? That’s what you’ve been doing, and you can’t deny it, but it never goes anywhere.’
‘Because you are seeing someone else!’ he cried, lifting his arms. ‘You’re right, I’ve made my intentions crystal clear the whole time, while you’ve been having a bet each way.’
Jo rolled her eyes, planting her hands on her hips. ‘Well aren’t you the virtuous one, Mr Holier-Than-Thou with your perfect happy family, and your awards and . . . somehow you can even spin dumping your girlfriend to make it sound like you were the one wronged. Get off your fucking high horse, you’re tall enough without it.’
‘Now you’re just being infantile,’ he said, shaking his head.
Jo took a couple of steps towards him. ‘I’m sick of you judging me, thinking you’re better than I am. Well, I don’t need your contempt.’ She saw a taxi out of the corner of her eye and raised her arm. ‘Stay out of my life!’
‘Oh don’t worry, I intend to.’
‘Good!’
‘Great!’
‘Fan-fucking-tastic!’ Jo finished as the taxi pulled over and she jumped in.
‘Where to?’
‘Just drive,’ she gasped.
He took off. After a couple of blocks they stopped at traffic lights. ‘Are we going in the right direction?’ the driver asked her.
‘Yes, sorry, it’s actually just another block, you can drop me off at the next corner.’
Jo was fuming. This was the whole reason she stayed out of ‘normal’ relationships; men thought they could tell you what to do, grow your hair, dye your hair, get your cute arse down here, come rollerblading . . . Well Joe could go back to the fucking redheaded cello player for all she cared. Fuck him.
Not that that was on the cards any more.
She got out of the taxi and walked up the street to her building. Bloody Lachlan wasn’t any better, following her around like a sick puppy. She didn’t know what had gotten into him, except that he didn’t want anyone else getting into her. He’d marked his territory and he was not prepared to give up any ground. Well, he wasn’t going to get a choice, she was breaking it off with him regardless. She was going to wipe the slate clean and fly solo and stop mixing so many metaphors. She had a vibrator, what did she need a man for? All they did was give her grief.
She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for her floor, backing into a corner. She gazed around, feeling a tightness in her chest as her eyes began to sting. Must be the fluorescent lighting.
The doors opened and she marched up the hall to her apartment. She needed a drink. Bugger, she should have got the taxi to take her past a liquor shop. Maybe there was something left over in the fridge . . .
But first she had to get out of this dress. She struggled for a while with the zip, contorting to get a hold of it, till she gave up, pulling the whole thing up and over her head and tossing it across the couch. She kicked the ridiculous shoes off and staggered over to the fridge, opening the door and peering in. There was an open bottle. She picked it up, holding it up to the light. Half empty. No, screw it, it was half full, which was a damn sight better than nothing at all. She pulled out the cork and took a swig.
There was a knock on the door, startling her, and a little wine escaped down her chin. She stepped quietly out of the kitchen, wiping her mouth. The knock sounded again.
‘Jo?’ she heard a muffled cry. ‘It’s me.’
Her heart caught in her throat. ‘How did you get up here?’
‘The security door was ajar.’
Bugger, she was probably the last person through and she didn’t check to make sure the door had closed behind her. She wondered how many people did that.
‘Jo!’
‘What?’ she said.
‘Let me in,’ his voice more plaintive now.
She took another swig out of the bottle before setting it down on the dining table. ‘How did you get here so fast?’
‘I ran.’
Her heart was pounding in her chest as her legs carried her inexorably across the room.
‘Please let me in.’
She was standing in front of the door now. ‘I’m not dressed.’
There was a pause before he answered. ‘So?’
Jo’s throat went dry. Her hand trembled as she reached for the handle, turning it slowly until it released. She drew the door back till he came into full view. He was leaning against the architrave, panting for breath, his face damp with sweat.
He thought he was going to have a heart attack coming up in the lift. But he had to come after her. He was sick of the games, of going one step forward and two back. He wanted to find out once and for all if they had something here, or if he should just give up trying.
And now she was standing there right in front of him, in her underwear, for Chrissakes. She was so beautiful. In one stride he caught her in his arms and brought his mouth down onto hers. And she responded, thank God, drawing her arms up around his neck. Joe ran his hands over her bare skin. He had to have her. He lifted her so her feet left the floor, as he stepped further into the room.
‘The door,’ she gasped.
He swung his arm back and his hand connected with the door as he gave it a good shove. He heard it slam as her legs drew up and wrapped around his hips.
‘Where’s the bedroom?’ he breathed against her lips.
She pointed to the left and he careered across the room, holding her up, kissing her mouth, her face, her neck. He made it through the doorway, then lurched towards the bed and they fell on it together. He shifted, propping himself above her, as she slid her hands under his jacket to ease it over his shoulders. He had to get out of this stupid penguin suit. He leaned on one arm as he wrestled with the jacket before he reefed it off and then swapped, lifting his other arm out of it. She began to unravel his bow tie as he bent to kiss her open mouth again. He felt her hands moving down, unbuttoning his shirt, and then she was peeling it over his shoulders. He lowered his bare chest against her. Jesus, her skin was so soft. His tongue tracked down her neck to her chest, as he pulled aside the flimsy fabric of her bra and covered her breast with his mouth. She moaned, her fingers raking his hair as he slid his hands underneath her, tugging at the contraption at the back of her bra. Why did they make it so complicated? It suddenly released, and he untangled the straps away from her arms, flinging it aside. He paused to look down at her, smoothing his hand across her breasts. Her legs were open around him, her pelvis nudging against him. He had to get inside her.
‘Joe . . . Joe . . .’ She brought her hands up against his chest as he went to lower himself. ‘You have to wear something.’
‘Aren’t you on the pill?’
‘And haven’t you heard of safe sex?’ she chided.
‘He only sleeps with his wife, doesn’t he?’ he asked.
She held his face with both hands and glared at him. ‘Yeah, but you slept with Carla Delacqua and I don’t know where the hell she’s been!’
‘Sorry, sorry,’ he said smoothing her hair back off her forehead. He leaned down to kiss her and she responded. He hadn’t screwed it up again.
‘Hold on,’ she said, breaking away. She slithered out from under him, turning over to reach for the drawer in her bedside table. He ran his hand down her back, hooking his fingers over her pants and easing them down, as he kissed the soft skin on her hip.
‘Hold your horses,’ she muttered, thrusting a condom packet into his hand.
He rolled over onto his back with a heavy sigh.
‘You do know how to use one of those, don’t you?’ she teased.
‘I’ll work it out.’
When he was ready he propped himself on one elbow looking d
own at her. ‘Jo . . .’ he said.
‘Hmm?’
She was gazing up at him, her eyes glassy and beautiful. He wanted to say . . . I love you. That’s what he wanted to say to her. He was sure, he didn’t have the slightest doubt. He was in love with her. So why not just tell her? He hesitated . . . she was too unpredictable. It was one of the things he loved about her, but it was what made it impossible to tell her that right now. She was likely have one of her crazies, spoil the moment altogether.
‘Joe?’ she prompted, skating her fingers across his chest.
He wasn’t going to risk it. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I only slept with Carla once, and I did use protection. It was that night after the play, when Lachlan showed up at your place. I was walking home and I couldn’t stop thinking about you . . . with him. So I called her.’
She screwed up her nose. ‘So Carla was my proxy?’
He smiled sheepishly. ‘Kind of. I was thinking of you the whole time.’
She smiled back at him. ‘I thought of you that night as well, when I was with Lachlan.’ She brought her hand up to his face and stroked his cheek. ‘So I guess this is the real thing?’
He gazed down at her; this was the real thing all right. He bent to kiss her again, sliding his knee between her legs as he centred himself above her.
And then he was inside her, and that was the end of all rational thought.
Jo was losing it. She arched back, holding her breath as she gripped his shoulders. She cried out. He was still thrusting into her, but she was gone already, past that exquisite peak, tumbling down now until her whole body went limp. Finally he collapsed into her. But after barely a moment, he rolled off her to lie flat on his back, catching his breath.
No, she cried inwardly, not you too.
But then his arms were encircling her, drawing her close to him. Jo’s eyes filled with tears, spontaneously, she hadn’t felt them coming. This had never happened to her before. Crying after sex? That was so lame. She’d never cried after sex, except for the first time, and that was out of disappointment. She buried her face in his chest, steeling herself. She felt his hands stroking her hair, her shoulder, she felt his heart pounding against her cheek, and a sob escaped from her throat.
‘Hey,’ he said, lifting her chin so he could see her face. ‘Are you okay?’
Crossing Paths Page 34
