Nobody Knows

by Rebecca Barber

  Quietly he got up, placed his wine glass back in the kitchen, and then stood next to the TV. “I should head home. It’s been a long day,” he admitted, sliding his feet back into his shoes and stuffing his tie in his pants pocket.

  “Oh, o-okay,” I stammered, unable to hide my disappointment.

  “I really am sorry, Gillian. I didn’t mean to be such an arse.”

  “Forget about it. It’s all good.” I smiled, gaining confidence.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon after the exhibition and let you know how it went. Hopefully it will be good news. Just think, you could even have it sold by then,” he said, slipping from human being to real estate agent without even pausing for a breath.

  “Hope so. At least that will be one less thing to deal with.” As soon as I said it I immediately regretted my choice of words. I had made my life sound like a circus, a million things going on and none of them in my control.

  I stood up and shuffled to the door, my eyes never leaving my feet. “Well then. Good night, Gillian. Enjoy your movie.”

  “Thanks. Have a good night, Joel.” He stuck out his hand and I grasped it firmly. Shaking his hand felt so weird. Barely a week ago he had left black hickies on my neck and shoulders and now he was standing in my doorway, the cold air blasting us both, shaking my hand like we had just completed a very serious business deal.

  I expected him to shake my hand and simply turn and walk away but he didn’t. The shaking stopped and he just stood there staring at our intertwined hands. When our eyes met I felt the tingling sensation consume my body, the images of last week flashing in my head like a slide show. “Well…good night,” he said, no louder than a whisper.

  “You already said that.”

  “I did, didn’t I?”

  I nodded and smiled. If he was stumbling over his words, I wasn’t the only one feeling things that were going unsaid. Suddenly he pulled me towards him out on the balcony and into his arms. I melted into them, pushing my body against his. As his tongue entered my mouth I felt myself give in to him. With his hands ravishing me, Joel lifted me off my feet, my legs instinctively wrapping around his narrow waist as he carried me back over the threshold into the lounge.

  Chapter Seven

  As the sun crept through the curtains I rolled away from its awakening glare. My arms and legs were stiff and sore. After spending the night curled up on the lounge floor only meters from my warm, comfortable and inviting bed, my whole body ached. I looked over at Joel’s perfect face as he snored softly beside me. He looked so peaceful I couldn’t bring myself to wake him.

  I wiggled slowly out from under his arm and crept into the bathroom. Brushing my teeth, a million thoughts darted about in my head. It couldn’t be a one night stand if it happened twice, could it? Or was the first time a mistake and the second one an apology? I couldn’t help but think I was desperate enough to try to convince myself of anything. I jumped in the shower and tried to force the thoughts from my head instead concentrating on the hot water cascading down my body.

  I rushed out of the bathroom and into my bedroom wearing only a towel, hoping not to get caught running around with all my flaws on display. I heard cupboard doors being opened then closed and a gentle humming coming from the other end of the apartment. Rushing, I pulled on the first pair of jeans and jumper I found.

  As I stumbled into the kitchen I saw something that took my breath away. Joel was standing there in my kitchen, wearing his white business shirt, half the buttons undone and flowing loosely, and a pair of navy satin boxer shorts. Nothing else. He was so sexy in that moment I wanted him again. He was flipping pancakes, and the smell of coffee filled my home. He looked comfortable, natural, and at ease. I couldn’t help but wonder if he looked that way in every woman’s kitchen or just mine.

  “Morning.” He grinned, finally spotting me standing there watching him.

  “Morning.” I smiled back. I felt the complete opposite of when I had done my forgettable walk of shame. I felt full of hope. For the first time since my world had been turned upside down I had hope.

  “Have a seat,” he invited warmly, pulling the chair out for me. “Fresh pancakes and hot coffee.” As he placed the plate and mug in front of me he popped an unexpected kiss on my forehead.

  Stuffing a forkful of pancake in my mouth, I mumbled, “So, what did I do to deserve this?”

  “It’s a bribe, actually.”

  My heart sank. No one had ever made me pancakes before, and at the mention of a bribe I felt like they were about to come back up. “Go on,” I invited timidly.

  “I was hoping that I would be able to…” His face was deadpan. My pulse was racing. My hands were trembling. “…use your shower?” he finished. I wanted to jump the kitchen bench and throttle him.

  “Only if I can have another pancake,” I teased as he piled more on my plate then placed his own next to mine.

  We sat there eating for a while and reading the paper, silently passing the individual sections back and forth between us like a routine. When I found the ad for the unit I couldn’t help but smile. The photo of Joel proudly staring back at me was completely different compared to the less than impeccably dressed man sitting beside me in his underwear.

  “Thanks for breakfast.” He grinned again, piling the plates in the sink.

  “Hey, you cooked. Any time you feel like cooking, my door is always open.” As soon as I said it I expected the ground to crack open and swallow me whole. I sounded so pathetic, so clingy. I was actually being straightforward and honest; if anyone wanted to cook for me they were more than welcome. I hated it. And it wasn’t something that I was very good at anyway. My face flushed and I found myself unable to look at him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…” I began back peddling.

  Holding his hand up to stop my ranting, he said, “Gillian, it’s okay. I know what you meant.”

  “I’m sorry.” I shrugged.

  “Forget it. So, about this shower?”

  “Absolutely, help yourself.” I was glad to have a moment to compose myself. I had never been this clumsy with my words before, but there was something about his perfectness that made everything I said come out in a muddled mess.

  I heard the water running and tried to focus. I picked up my dirty clothes from the previous night and, tossing them in the laundry hamper, I busied myself in the kitchen washing up the dishes and wiping down the counter tops—ordinarily things that would have been done before company arrived, not while they were showering the next morning.

  “Gillian!” his deep, sensual voice called out from the bathroom.

  “Coming.” When I reached the bathroom door his head was poking out into the hallway, his body hidden behind the white, wooden door. “What’s up?” I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

  “Can I please have a towel?”

  “Sorry,” I cried out, racing to the laundry to find a clean, non-pink towel he could use.

  Rushing back to the bathroom, I handed it to him. But gone was his modesty. The door was open and he stood there wearing only a smile. “Thanks.”

  I tried to back out of the room, struggling to keep my eyes on his face. When I crashed into the wall behind me, Joel let out a deep chuckle that sent tingles all the way to my toes. It sounded good. Even through my embarrassment I managed to giggle, accepting that this was a weird situation. I stood there frozen to the spot, laughing until my sides hurt. With only a towel wrapped around his slender waist, Joel stepped towards me and my heart raced. When he reached down and took my hand, the laughter died on my lips but continued in my eyes.

  As his lips touched my neck I gasped, “Don’t you have to work?”

  “I’ve got time,” he whispered seductively into my ear. And, after homemade pancakes, who was I to turn him down?

  As he slid his hands under my jumper, my body came alive with goose pimples. I wanted him, and I wanted him now. “Come with me. This time, we do it properly.” Even in his bossy, condescending voice he was sexy. My
jumper never left the bathroom, my jeans made it into the hallway. Barely. The towel alone was unceremoniously discarded in my bedroom door way.

  An hour later we were both shaken back to reality when his phone began to ring. “Are you going to answer that?” I asked as he ran his finger up and down my stomach. At first the thought of him touching my blubber made me flinch, but the way he did it and the smile on his face the whole time…I couldn’t ask him to stop.

  When I eventually kicked him out after attempting to iron his shirt, which had doubled as a pillow the night before, I was floating on a cloud. I was happy. He made me laugh and smile and wish for more. The only thing that left a sour taste in my mouth was the fact that he promised he’d call. If he hadn’t planned on calling me I would rather he just have said good bye, not leave me with false hope. But I was determined not to dwell.

  If he hadn’t called by Monday with at the very least news about the weekend’s exhibitions, I would speak to his boss. Obviously there was no point trying to have a conversation with Joel face to face. Each time we saw each other we ended up naked.

  I called Cora and we decided to go for a run. I’m sure she thought I had lost my mind when I suggested such an out-of-character thing to do. Usually I was the ‘let’s meet for a cupcake and chat’ kind of girl. But Cora didn’t say anything. She just agreed to meet me by the lake. I’m sure she was waiting to see me before the interrogation started, but on the phone she was nothing but polite.

  We’d run three of the five kilometers of the track when we collapsed, puffing and panting. Sucking in long deep breaths, we were both hunched over, hands on our knees, gasping for air. For people who didn’t jog, ever, we had certainly decided to push ourselves.

  “So,” Cora wheezed, “are you going to tell me who or what has got us out jogging on a Saturday morning?”

  And there it was. The truth, staring at me through hazel eyes. Cora asking me who was making me this person. Deciding there was no point trying to lie, I told her the truth.

  We ended up giving up on our run, and camping on a park bench under a tree for a long time just talking about everything. It felt good to confide in someone. I had never done anything like this before, and I wasn’t even really sure what it was that I was doing, but as I said the words out loud, it seemed to make sense. Cora asked a million questions, but not once did I feel judged.

  Although I’d come clean and told Cora my dirty little secret, I wasn’t ready to tell the others just yet. “Please, whatever you do, don’t tell Rhiannon,” I found myself begging.

  “You should tell them,” Cora encouraged, but I didn’t budge.

  “Not yet. I don’t know what this is and I don’t want to jump to any conclusions and end up being humiliated. The fewer people who know about this, the better.” I was determined. I wasn’t going to end up avoiding everything because I’d made a fool of myself.

  “Your call,” Cora conceded. “But, for the record, I think you should.”

  We stood up and walked on in silence. The weight of my decision clearly didn’t sit well with Cora. But I knew she would keep my secret. Reaching the car, we hugged and promised to talk soon before we went our separate ways. Sitting behind the wheel, I didn’t feel like going home yet, and since I was still sweaty and smelly, shops and restaurants were out. Instead, I climbed back out of the car, finished the water in my bottle, and took off on another lap.

  Jogging allowed my thoughts to flow in a conscious stream. They weren’t muddled or clouded by interruptions and distractions. All I had to concentrate on was my steady, deep breathing and placing one foot in front of the other. As I rounded the end of the lake and began heading for home, I increased the pace. Pushing myself harder and faster than I normally would, Joel crept into my thoughts, and I wasn’t sure if I was running to forget him or running to impress him.

  With my mind elsewhere, I didn’t quite lift my foot high enough and I went sailing to the ground, landing with a thud. Instantly embarrassed, I looked around, making sure no one saw my clumsiness before scrambling to my feet. I dusted my hands off, pretended to ignore the pain in my ankle and knee, and hobbled as fast as I could back to the car.

  As soon as I could I took off home and jumped into the shower. It felt better. Pain subsiding, humiliation fading, I was okay. Since starting myself on this strenuous exercise regime, I’ll admit I was surprised by the changes in everything. I ate more than I ever had, but I only wanted salads and veggies. I felt better and I was more confident. After stuffing myself with a crunchy Asian noodle salad, I had a nap on the lounge. After all, I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. When my phone vibrated under my pillow I was shocked awake. Joel was on his way over.

  He arrived wearing a jumper and sweat pants with a bag of noodles and a bottle of wine in hand. “So, I have news.” He smiled as he breezed through the door, pausing briefly to plant a kiss on the top of my head, almost as if it was a habit.

  I climbed back on the sofa, my legs tucked up under me, forgetting that I was supposed to try and impress anyone. It felt good not having to pretend. It was still all new and exciting and I wasn’t sure where I actually stood with Joel. I didn’t want to rush anything, but part of me nervously wanted to know.

  I remained silent, waiting for the big news revelation, but he said nothing, frustrating me even more. I folded my arms across my chest and pouted dramatically.

  “Gee, that’s attractive,” Joel said, dangling noodles from high above his head into his mouth.

  “Like you can talk,” I teased. “So, what’s the big news?” I grunted impatiently, fighting the urge to jump him.

  He wiped another face full of noodles away with the back of his hand, I couldn’t help but shake my head in mock disgust. “Well,” he flopped down unceremoniously beside me. “I have an offer for you.” I didn’t say anything; all I could do was raise a quizzical eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what we were talking about any more. “A young couple has put an offer on your apartment. It’s a really good offer. You should at least give it some thought.” His arm draped across the back of the lounge and around my shoulders.

  “Maybe if you tell me the offer then I can consider it.”

  For the next few minutes we discussed the offer and what I should do. Joel kept dodging my questions, refusing to tell me what I should do, saying it would be a conflict of interest.

  “So, is sleeping with your clients a conflict of interest too?” I inquired as casually as I could. I heard the words come out of my mouth and instantly regretted it. “That sounded so much better in my head,” I added hastily, trying to make light of the situation.

  Embarrassed, I jumped up off the sofa and backed away. I didn’t want him to touch me. Or look at me. Or even acknowledge my presence. My mouth had a bad habit of allowing words to escape before my brain had finished thinking them through. I hid in the kitchen and although I could hear the deep rhythmic sounds of Joel’s voice, I couldn’t make out the words. Trapped in the kitchen, I had nowhere to go. There was only one entry to my kitchen and only one exit, which Joel was now blocking.

  With one hand on his hip and the other high above his head, he leaned invitingly against the door frame. I was captivated. All I could think about was his beautiful body. The humiliation that had consumed me only moments earlier melted and my whole body was rattled. “Are you going to let me actually answer that question?” He smiled, walking towards me.

  With his breath on my neck the tiny hairs all over my body stood to attention. I tried to side-step away from him, knowing what would happen if I didn’t, but he blocked me, his hand landing decisively on my waist. I caught myself hoping I had put on half decent underwear when I had got out of the shower instead of the usual granny panties. “I don’t think I want to hear the answer.” As the words rushed from my mouth I was surprised by my honesty.

  “Well, don’t…” he mumbled, kissing me roughly and urgently.

  The next six weeks went past in a blur.

  Chapter Eight


  “Who’s the father?” Heidi repeated Rhiannon’s question.

  I was thankful to Cora because she wouldn’t look at me. She was the only one who knew what I had been doing for the past couple of weeks. Only Cora knew the truth. She knew why I had blown my friends off for dinners and movies and usually didn’t even bother to return their calls. I knew they were frustrated with me and I couldn’t blame them, but I still didn’t feel guilty enough to confess.

  “Do you even know?” Rhiannon asked spitefully. Her eyes showed pure disgust and in that moment I hated her.

  “Of course I know. I’m not some kind of cheap slut,” was all I could offer. I didn’t want to give them a name. Or details. Or any information. I was confused enough by what was happening without trying to answer the million questions that would inevitably come.

  “We won’t judge you, Gillian. We love you and we just want to help,” Heidi began. “Does he know yet?”

  Gulping at the thought of telling him, I felt the tears welling up again. In the past hours I had already pictured every conceivable reaction from him, from the overwhelmingly ecstatic—in which he would sweep me off my feet, confess his love, and the three of us lived in his mansion happily ever after—to the humiliating and degrading—“It could be anyone’s. Just because I have money doesn’t mean you can pin this on me.”

  When I didn’t answer or even make eye contact with them, Cora thankfully came to my rescue. “She doesn’t have to tell us if she doesn’t want to. When Gillian’s ready she will tell us what she needs us to know.” Cora reached out and squeezed my hand supportively.

  “He doesn’t know and until I know for absolute certain that this is what it is, no one else knows either. Okay?” I stared at each of them individually until they reluctantly nodded their heads in agreement. “And I don’t want to talk about it anymore either. Until we have to face it, this isn’t an issue.”