Tree Change

by Cooper, Tea

  She was perfection. A firestorm of signals ricocheted through his chest to the deep, dark depths of his body as he fought for control. More than anything in the world he wanted to drag her away into some quiet secluded space where he could remind her of the indefinable chemistry existing between them. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry and gritty, a wave of nervousness swamping him as he looked around the crowded room.

  There was an audible gasp as the full force of the tungsten spotlights pivoted and shone directly on the middle of the room. As one, the crowd stepped back. Jake’s eyes gravitated to the massive centerpiece at the collective intake of breath.

  Two life-sized horses dominated the cavernous white space. The embodiment of equine grace, they cavorted together, heads thrown back, their manes flying. Immediately, he knew where her inspiration had come from; she had captured the moment perfectly. He closed his eyes, instantly transported back.

  They had been sitting on the cliff top, watching the lengthening shadows play across the damp sand, when a woman had appeared on the beach below them with two horses. She had loosened the lead ropes and allowed the horses the freedom of the deserted beach. It had been a magical moment. Illuminated by the ochre rays of the setting sun, the horses had frolicked and gamboled in the surf. Just one of the magical moments he and Cass had shared before reality had reared its demanding head. Something clicked in his mind, and he walked out of the gallery to the office.

  Alan was standing with his back to the window, talking into his phone. He acknowledged Jake and raised his hand, motioning to him to wait until he finished the call. Jake turned with every intention of waiting in the corridor, but Alan hung up almost immediately.

  “Hey, Jake. How’s it going, buddy? You must be pretty proud of her.”

  “Alan, I want to buy the two horses.” Alan’s perfect eyebrows shot up above the heavy black frames of his glasses.

  “Buy them? Why would you do that? She can make one for you. The exhibition is going to go well, and I’ve already lined up a follow-up exhibition in Melbourne. Don’t worry. I’m certain we are going to make some really good sales.”

  “I don’t want to buy them to support Cassia. I’m buying them because I want them. I’m prepared to pay top price. But I don’t want Cassia to know I bought them, Alan. It’s a condition of my purchase.”

  “Well, if you’re sure it’s what you want to do, I won’t stop you. In fact I’d be more than happy to take your money. A sale is a sale.” Alan rummaged around on the desktop and brought out a pile of contracts. He rifled through them until he found the one he was looking for. He handed it to Jake with an envelope.

  “It’s 10 percent deposit now, and the balance is payable within thirty days. It includes delivery within a one-hundred-kilometer radius of Sydney and installation. If you can fill in the details, we can sort this out in two ticks. I’ll get back to the exhibition so Cassia doesn’t notice us both missing at once. Just put the contract in the envelope and mark it with my name.”

  As Alan left the room and walked up the corridor to the exhibition, Jake sat down at the desk and filled in his credit card and contact details. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but he could easily afford it after the sale of the house. The two horses would flank the driveway to the farm and would either be a reminder of all he had lost or a welcome-home present for Cassia. It was a risk he had to take.

  When he had put the envelope on the desktop for Alan, he made his way back to the exhibition. He stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the growing crowd of glitterati sipping their champagne and gesticulating furiously at each other. The noise level had increased, and there was an air of expectation and excitement filling the room. His gaze was drawn immediately to Cassia standing close to the microphone, talking to a journalist. As he approached her, she gestured with her hand and sent him a radiant smile; it blazed across the room. His stomach clenched. It was a small thing, but it showed him she wanted his company and gave him hope there was a future for them.

  Jake reached for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter as he approached.

  “…pleasing juxtaposition of nature in the metropolitan setting,” one of the media art critics said. Jake moved to stand next to Cassia; the scent of her exotic perfume made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

  “My hope is my new work will inspire people to appreciate the rich heritage Sydney has to offer.” Cassia’s genuine smile wrinkled the corners of her eyes, and Jake could see the critic falling under her spell, but she immediately changed the topic, twisting her champagne flute in her long fingers. “Alan Roeden is a wonderful man, and he has done a fantastic job tonight. He’d love to speak to you.” The critic accepted his dismissal with good grace and moved off.

  Cassia turned to Jake. This time her radiant smile was for him and him alone. Despite the crowd surrounding them, it was as though they were quiet and isolated, almost intimate.

  “This is incredible,” Jake said. “And you are incredible. Look at you.”

  Cassia executed a tight twirl and bobbed her head. Her face flushed with excitement and enthusiasm.

  He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, the smoothness of her skin sending a tremor of anticipation up his arm. Her smile died as she met his gaze, her eyes burning with an exhilarating intensity. He groaned, deep and low, trying to ignore his body’s chaotic response. Every time he looked at her, he wanted to kiss her. It was all he wanted to do. Feel her body against his. He couldn’t control the sexual attraction between them. She had always had this effect on him. He thought he had overcome his weakness, but with her close again, it was just too much. The wave of emotion almost knocked him over.

  “Thank you, kind sir. But you are here to comment on the sculptures, not on me.”

  Several heartbeats passed, and he narrowed his eyes as he dragged himself back to the moment. “The comment is one and the same, Cass. You are incredible, your work is you, and it is incredible. I am so impressed with what you have achieved.”

  “Do you like my horses?” The question was almost coquettish.

  “I love the horses, and I remember your horses. You have captured the scene perfectly.” Just as you captured my heart the first instant I saw you, he wanted to add, but he knew it was not the time. She deserved this moment to be hers. Hers and only hers.

  ***

  “I knew you would remember.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Cassia saw Alan gesturing to her from across the room. She handed Jake her empty glass, and after giving a friendly pat to the rump of the largest of her horses, she sashayed across the highly polished floor, her heels striking an exuberant tattoo.

  “Ah, Cassia,” Alan said as she reached his side. “I would like you to meet Dan Martin. He is very interested in your work, particularly your driftwood sculptures. He rather hoped to purchase the horses, but as I just mentioned, they were sold to an anonymous buyer almost as soon as the exhibition opened.”

  Cassia grinned. She was over the moon about the sale, but the curiosity was beginning to kill her. She’d love to know who’d bought them. Maybe she’d be able to find out once the evening was over.

  She put out her hand. The man clasped it limply. She tried unsuccessfully to make eye contact with him, but he blinked his eyes and gazed down at the floor.

  “Good to meet you,” she said, resisting the temptation to wipe her hand on her dress as she let go. “I’m so glad you liked my horses. They are something I’m particularly proud of. They mean a lot to me, but they are very much the end of an era. I’ve actually moved away from driftwood sculptures now. Steel seems so much more in keeping with the city.” She waved her hand at the steel heart suspended from the ceiling. “The driftwood is from my past, my coastal range.”

  “Yes.” He hesitated as if unsure of what to say next. “I’m aware of that, but I am particularly interested in the driftwood. Do you have any other pieces?” He paused, and the obligation to continue the conversation fell to Cassia. There was someth
ing about his body language making her uncomfortable. Or perhaps, she thought, giving him the benefit of the doubt, he was uncomfortable.

  She jumped in. “I do have a few of my driftwood sculptures still available, but they are at my studio. Perhaps we could make an appointment for another day, and you could come and view them—”

  “I’d like to see them now. As soon as possible, this evening.” His voice became unexpectedly animated.

  “Unfortunately, I am busy at the moment.” She gestured around the room, pointing to the growing crowd at the gallery.

  “I can hold the fort here, Cassia,” interrupted Alan. “Why don’t you pop back to the studio with Mr. Martin? It’s only around the corner.”

  Cassia looked back at Alan. Where he was coming from? She didn’t want to leave, not right now, not in the middle of her moment of glory. She sighed. He was probably right and, after all, it was why she employed him. As successful as she was feeling tonight, it was arrogant to presume she could forgo a sale, any sale. She looked around the room for Jake, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Grow up. You have to stop relying on him. Remember you are an independent, cosmopolitan city artist now.

  Squaring her shoulders, she smiled at Mr. Martin and turned to Alan. “If you are sure you can cope, Alan, I would be more than happy to take Mr. Martin to the studio. It would be my pleasure. I’ll just get my jacket and bag. Come this way.” Stepping back, she allowed him to lead the way along the corridor dividing the galleries to the open front door.

  “Just one moment.” She grabbed her handbag and jacket from the filing cabinet drawer in the front office and followed him outside.

  The sun had already set and the streetlights were on as they emerged. She turned right into the street leading to the end of the wharf and almost had to run to keep up with him as he strode off in the direction of her studio. Mr. Martin seemed to know where he was going. Her ridiculously high heels clattered against the cobblestones as she followed him along the dark wharf.

  The upstairs lights from the other apartments cast shadows across the almost tunnel-like walkway. Why had she never before appreciated how dark it could be? Usually she only made this walk in daylight. She wished now she hadn’t been so confident and had asked Jake to come with her. The slick darkness of the water at the end of the wharf came into view, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the beam of the foyer lights below her studio.

  “We’re here,” she said unnecessarily as she pushed her security card into the slot and entered.

  He was right behind her, too close for her comfort. His hand grasped her elbow and he steered her to the lift. She shrugged herself free and hit the button. This was going to be the fastest viewing in history. She wanted to be back at the exhibition and away from this man.

  The lift closed in on her as she looked across at him through lowered lashes. His gaze seemed to be skimming the lift, taking in the stainless steel rail and the location of the buttons.

  “Almost there.” She cringed at her false gaiety as the ping announced their arrival. The lift doors opened, and she stepped out into her studio, thankful to be on home ground.

  The studio looked uncannily empty and yawning without the two horses dominating the room as they had for the last few months. Cassia kicked off her high-heeled shoes and motioned around the room.

  “If you’ll bear with me for a moment, I will go and get the other pieces. There are several sculptures hanging on the walls in here, and the driftwood standard lamp and mirror over there are also available for purchase. Have a look around.”

  He stood very still. She could see him staring around the large, white open space. She turned and walked toward the storeroom and let her breath out in a relieved whoosh. She hadn’t been aware she was holding it.

  With frightening speed her right arm was swiftly wrenched up her back. Her face pressed sideways against the wall as she was pinned to it. Too shocked to struggle, Cassia looked down at his shoes.

  Why on earth has he got sandshoes on with a suit?

  “Stop it. Get your hands off me!” She finally managed to squeeze the words out between her gritted teeth. “You’re hurting me. What do you want?”

  “I’ll let you go when you sit down and answer a few questions.” She could feel the dampness of his words on the back of her neck as tendrils of hair stuck to her bare skin.

  The man turned her to face him and pushed her down to the floor. Her back was forced flat against the wall and her knees pushed up to her chest. As he squatted down in front of her, she tried to pull her skirt down over her knees. His slate eyes were boring into hers. She turned away as the fetid rush of his breath fanned her face.

  “Look at me!” He grasped her chin and turned her face directly to him.

  She cringed, closing her eyes, trying to make him disappear. What was the matter with him? What did he want? “What?” she cried, opening her eyes wide and staring at him defiantly. Her fear subsided as her temper snapped.

  “Cut the crap and listen. I want some answers.” His shouted words were as much an assault as his hands. She looked at him, her brain twisting in ever-decreasing circles. He might as well have been speaking a foreign language. She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “I’m looking for someone.”

  “Who?” she spat back at him, trying to stand up. She had to get him out of her face. His hands thumped onto her shoulders and, levering himself up, he forced her back to the ground. Cassia had an overwhelming desire to curl into a fetal position, but she knew there was only going to be one way to deal with this. Jake’s words flashed into her mind.

  There’s only one way to repel a shark attack: fight back. Attack is your only defense.

  He was standing above her, his legs astride hers, right in front of her. With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, Cassia kicked out. Her right foot landed with a satisfying wallop in his groin. He doubled over, groaning.

  “You bitch.” His words came from between his clenched lips. He gasped, straightened up, and smashed his fist into the side of her face. She didn’t see it coming; she was too stunned by the success of her attack. His punch caught her on her cheekbone, knocking her to the floor. The weight of his body as he straddled her forced the air from her lungs.

  “Now, sweetheart,” he sneered. “Let’s get down to business. Where is Madeleine?”

  She shrieked. What did Madeleine have to do with this? Her exhibition. Her sculptures. Why Madeleine? “I haven’t got a clue,” she said through her swollen lips, wishing she had thought to ask who Madeleine was, but she’d lived with the specter of Madeleine in her life for too long to think of it.

  “Come on, you should know. You’ve been hanging around with her boyfriend. Now where is she?”

  Hanging around with her boyfriend? What was he talking about? Whose boyfriend? Madeleine’s boyfriend.

  Oh, God. He means Jake.

  She shifted slightly on the floor beneath him, trying to get some air into her lungs. His unbearable weight pressed down on her. “Let me up, I can’t breathe.”

  He moved slightly, and she swung around and sat up. Crouching above her, his breath turned her stomach. He grabbed her hair and pulled her up closer to him.

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know,” Cassia spat back.

  “You went to the beach house. You saw her.”

  “No, she wasn’t there.” It was easier to tell the truth. It gave her time to collect her thoughts.

  “Is she in Sydney?” He towered over her as he poked her ribs with the toe of his dirty sandshoe.

  “How would I know? I don’t have anything to do with her. Why would I?”

  “Because you’ve been hanging around with her boyfriend. He’s been here.”

  The realization someone had been following her movements, spying on her, made her flesh creep. It was an eerie feeling to know she had been watched. Cassia looked out of the huge plate-glass windows at the flickering lights of the
cars as they crossed the bridge. She hoped someone would look into the studio now, maybe they could see what was happening. Maybe they would come to her rescue. She just wanted this over.

  “I don’t know where Madeleine is. I only met her once, it was over two years ago.” She forced the words out through her gritted teeth.

  “Two years ago?” He jumped on her words. “Why would you have met her two years ago?”

  “Because she was…” Her words stumbled to a halt.

  Jake, where are you?

  His words flashed through her brain: Madeleine’s safety was paramount…

  “What?” he snapped, prodding her with his foot again.

  She forced her brain into action, praying her delay wouldn’t make her reply sound false. “She was looking to buy one of my sculptures. She bought a heart, a driftwood heart.”

  Cassia watched as his shoulders slumped.

  “So you haven’t seen her since then?” The aggression seemed to have seeped out of him, and he stood up.

  She made a move to push herself up. He didn’t react. She struggled to her feet, looking straight at him. “No, I haven’t. I don’t know where she is.” Her voice sounded flat, defeated. She had to be aggressive. “Leave. Get out of here, or I will call the police.”

  “You better not be shitting me.” He shook his head and stepped back.

  Her gaze followed him as he crossed the floor and walked to the lift. He pressed the button, and the doors slid open. He stepped inside and the doors closed behind him.

  Cassia tried to breathe, but her body wouldn’t respond. She focused hard and drew a long breath in through her nose and exhaled slowly, each movement a huge effort. She traced the swelling on her cheek with her hand, and listened as the lift reached the floor below, and then walked slowly to the window and leaned forward to make sure he had really gone.

  She heard a car start and watched his rear lights reflect on the cobblestones as he sped down the street. Unable to breathe until the last pinprick disappeared, Cassia squinted into the darkness. She knew she should try to see the plate number, but by the time her eyes focused, the car had gone.