Deserted Island, Dreamy Ex!

by Nicola Marsh

In all the draining tension of the last twenty-four hours, she’d forgotten about the promotion. Once she’d handed the prize cheque to Meg, she’d been happy, her job done.

  At any other time, she would’ve cartwheeled over her desk and high-fived Ros, but now, while she wanted to keep busy, the thought of extra workload merely added to the thick, leaden woolliness in her head.

  ‘I mentioned Channel Nine’s upcoming reality show, Survivor with a twist? Well, there’s another twist. They’re syndicating around the world.’

  ‘Great.’

  This would be a job opportunity of a lifetime, doing the PR for a project this huge. If only she could summon up suitable excitement.

  ‘It is for you. You’re heading to LA.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  Rosanna slid off the desk, rubbed her hands together. ‘A show over there went gangbusters courtesy of some top-notch PR. Channel Nine want you to check it out, do something similar here.’

  Rosanna snapped her fingers. ‘Did I mention all expenses paid?’

  ‘Wow…’

  She wanted to step up the career ladder, take her job to the next level, now she could. So why the fizzle of disappointment that gaining this promotion wasn’t all she’d built it up to be?

  ‘Tell me that glum expression isn’t because you’ll miss lover boy? You don’t leave for a few weeks, plenty of time for a long, meaningful goodbye.’

  That was when it hit her.

  Role reversal. Last time, Jared left because of his career. This time, it was her turn.

  She should be glad. She’d wanted closure, now she’d have it, once and for all. So why the uncertainty twisting her insides into a painful knot?

  Rosanna snorted, held up a hand. ‘Don’t tell me. By that faraway look on your face, you’re imagining all the ways to say goodbye.’

  Wiggling her fingers, she twirled and marched to the door. ‘I’m out of here. I’ll email you all the details.’

  ‘Thanks for the promotion.’

  ‘You earned it, sweetie. Later!’

  She had earned it.

  Spending a week stranded on an island with Jared Malone, being filmed, allowing the world to see what a fool she’d made of herself…yeah, she’d definitely earned it.

  Time to say goodbye to her past. Permanently, this time.

  When she’d walked away from Jared last night, something inside her had broken.

  He cared about her, was willing to have a relationship with her, but didn’t want to marry her. Which ultimately meant he didn’t love her enough, couldn’t love her enough.

  She should be grateful he was putting her needs first, had listened to her dreams for the perfect love. Instead, all she could think was, What a damn waste.

  Now she was leaving and, while she’d had no intention of seeing him again after their D&M last night, this time she wanted complete closure.

  On her terms.

  She didn’t want to spend the next six months in LA rehashing every word, every expression, of their last heartbreaking confrontation.

  Uh-uh, this time, she wanted to go out knowing she’d slammed the door on any potential relationship between them once and for all.

  Jared picked up the phone for the hundredth time that morning before slamming it back down.

  He wanted to call Kristi.

  He should call her.

  Just to make sure she was okay.

  Yet every time his finger had hovered over the numbers, he’d hung up, angry with his deliberating, furious with the constant twinge in his breastbone, compelling him to go to see her and apologise.

  For what?

  Not being able to love her enough?

  Not being able to give her what she wanted, what she deserved?

  Or for not being the type of man to take a risk on something—someone—with the potential to change his life?

  He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  He’d bounced into Activate at the crack of dawn, eager to bury his nose in work: ordering new equipment, ensuring the financial records were ready for a meeting with the bank, checking over the digital media package.

  All perfectly legitimate stuff that could’ve been handled by the manager but, the more time he spent here, the more he realised the rec centre was more to him than a funding opportunity.

  He wanted to be a part of it.

  He understood these kids: where they were coming from, what they faced, what they were running from. He could make a difference, and not just with his money.

  He had investments all over the world, had used his prize money wisely, but now he was here he had no intention of spending his retirement playing the occasional celebrity tournament or driving fast cars in Monte Carlo.

  Sydney was his new home, was a good fit and he’d make sure every disadvantaged kid in the city knew they would always be welcomed at Activate.

  Thinking of his involvement here brought him full circle back to Kristi. She’d been the one to open his eyes to his commitment to the place. She’d been the one to open his eyes to a lot of things.

  Namely that he could love, despite long-term beliefs to the contrary.

  So what was he going to do about it?

  He’d rehashed their parting last night a hundred times in his head. Was he being noble in putting her needs first or was he running scared?

  Scared of commitment, scared of the future, scared of loving someone so much you had to spend the rest of your life with them or shrivel up emotionally and die.

  ‘Yo.’

  Glad for the distraction from his circuitous thoughts, he glanced towards the door where Bluey slouched, his red hair bristling as much as his attitude.

  ‘Hey, Bluey. Come on in.’

  The sulky teenager didn’t say a word, shuffled into his office and slumped into a chair.

  Jared took a seat on the sofa opposite, glad he’d overseen his office personally. Kids wouldn’t feel comfortable on the other side of a commanding desk and he hoped the modular lounge suite with comfy cushions might encourage them to heed his open-door policy.

  He wanted to be available to anyone and everyone whenever he was in the centre, yet more proof of his commitment.

  ‘Been reading your blog.’

  ‘Yeah? What do you think?’

  ‘Lame.’

  Jared stifled a smile as he registered the first sign of anything but indifference in the boy’s expression.

  ‘Maybe you should watch the show next week. Might be better.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  Bluey focused on the rip in his dirty jeans, picking at the fray.

  ‘Me and some of the guys want to shoot hoops. You have anything like that here?’

  Wanting to punch the air in victory, Jared deliberately played it cool.

  ‘Sure, any sport you’re into, the rec centre can get equipment, set up courts, whatever you need.’

  Keen not to lose the kid now he’d made his first overture, he stood.

  ‘Want to check out the basketball court?

  Bluey glanced nervously around, as if expecting someone to appear out of nowhere and give him a clip across the ear. Poor kid. He’d probably had that happen a time or two.

  ‘We can grab a soda on the way, and a ball, maybe get in a few practice shots?’

  Bluey’s eyes lit up and Jared drew in a sharp breath at the unexpected surge of emotion making him want to hug the boy tight.

  ‘Okay.’

  As he fell into step with Bluey Jared knew sticking around Sydney was the smartest decision he’d made in ages.

  Now if he could only solve the dilemma regarding Kristi as easily.

  The hairs on the back of Kristi’s neck stood to attention as she walked quickly down Darlinghurst Road, staring straight ahead and blocking out the shouts from touts outside strip joints, the abuse hurtling between two homeless guys fighting over a half-empty beer bottle and a road-rage incident between rival bikie gangs.

  She’d lived in Sydn
ey her entire life but rarely ventured down to Kings Cross after heeding her parents’ warnings of assaults, robberies and drugs.

  The occasional visit had been in a big group of friends, usually to the bar with the best bands at the end of the road, and while she shouldn’t feel this uncomfortable in broad daylight, she did.

  All the hollow eyes peering at her from between buildings, bodies wedged into the darkness, as if waiting for nightfall to come out.

  A loud cackle from a nearby doorway made her jump and, feeling decidedly foolish—and more than a tad nervous—she picked up the pace, rounded a corner and breathed a sigh of relief as she spied Activate, a nondescript building with a new whitewash.

  Sitting on several blocks, the centre must’ve been an old warehouse at one stage: high ceilings, sprawling buildings interconnected, large yard at the front.

  Her first impression was welcoming as she hurried through the wide front gate, along a newly paved Bessemer path and up the steps to the double doors, which slid open soundlessly as she approached.

  Jared must’ve spent a fortune on this place, she thought as she stepped inside, breathed in the pungent odour of fresh paint, polished wood and new leather.

  The reception area, if one could call the informal entrance area that, consisted of several black and red leather sofas spaced around the walls facing each other, an antique trunk stacked with sporting magazines and a self-serve vending machine that looked as if it operated on a trust system, with a basket in front of it for donations.

  While the place was empty, she could envisage it filled with kids lounging around, flipping through the magazines, mouthing off about who could do the biggest motor-cross jumps or do the biggest bombs into Watson’s Bay.

  The place beckoned, had a warmth missing in most kids’ hang-outs, and if it could tempt a quarter of the teens off the streets of Kings Cross into here for even a short time Jared would be doing the area a great service.

  Before she could head off in search of Jared, a small plaque tucked behind the front door caught her eye.

  DEDICATION TAUGHT ME TO BELIEVE MIRACLES CAN HAPPEN…IF YOU WANT THEM BAD ENOUGH.

  Kristi suspected Jared was referring to his dedication to tennis and, while that dedication had once ripped them apart, she agreed with the sentiment.

  Miracles could happen if you wanted them badly enough: just not to her.

  With Jared’s recalcitrance and her promotion on another continent, it would take more than a miracle to get them back together. Like hell being covered in a layer of thick, solid ice.

  Heading down a long corridor, she followed the sound of distant voices and a consistent thumping that could only be a basketball.

  The corridor ended, opened out onto a huge indoor basketball court, the squeak of sneakers on floorboards drawing her attention to the far end where two figures shot hoops.

  Her heart leapt at the sight of Jared, her predictable reaction having more to do with his patience in showing a young kid how to shoot hoops than his impressive physique.

  Even from a distance, she could see the muscle definition in his legs, the tone in his torso, the strength in his arms as he lifted the ball overhead and lobbed a perfect three-point shot.

  The kid applauded before snatching the ball out of Jared’s hands, dribbling towards the hoop and executing an impressive slam dunk.

  They high-fived, resumed positions and Kristi leant against the door jamb, content to watch the man she loved yet couldn’t have exhibit yet another wonderful side to him.

  Shame about that miracle because, right at that very moment, she wanted it so badly she ached.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Stranded Survival Tip #15

  Scrapbooking may be fun, but choose the memories you save with care. Glue lasts longer than first love.

  Twitter.com/Stranded_Jared

  Check out Activate. Shoot hoops, cricket in the nets, hang out, whatever, it’s cool.

  Twitter.com/Stranded_Kristi

  I’m leaving on a jet plane. Over and out. Definitely over, worse luck.

  ‘YOU were great with that kid.’

  A genuine smile lit Jared’s face as he grabbed a soda, handed Kristi one. Her favourite lemon flavour. Was there nothing he didn’t remember about her?

  ‘That’s what this place is here for, somewhere kids like Bluey can hang out.’

  ‘I’m not talking about the place.’

  She slugged back her soda, locking gazes with him over the can, wondering why he could stand in front of the world and accept a Grand Slam trophy but was reticent to accept praise over a good deed.

  Shrugging, he lobbed his empty can into a bin. ‘I got to mingle with kids on the circuit. Loads of talented youngsters.’

  ‘A bit different from the street kids around here, I’d say.’

  ‘Kids are kids the world over. Give them a cool place they can blow off some steam, they’ll be there.’

  ‘Is that what you did as a kid? Pick up a racket to blow off steam?’

  A shadow passed over his face before he ran a hand over it, wiped it clean, his expression frighteningly grim.

  ‘Yeah.’

  He didn’t want to talk, that much was obvious. She would’ve ignored his reticence, stepped around it in the past and on the island, but now she had nothing to lose.

  She was leaving, and she’d be damned if she went out on a whimper.

  ‘How old were you when you started playing?’

  ‘Nine.’

  ‘Is that late for a champion?’

  ‘Depends. Kids start learning at all ages. Guess I was a fast learner.’

  He spun away, his strides long as he headed up the corridor towards what she assumed was his office. She fell into step beside him, her four-inch stilettos not made for power walking as she had to sprint to keep up.

  ‘Hey, slow down a sec.’

  He stopped so fast she almost slammed into him. ‘Look, I’m really busy so—’

  ‘Too busy to say goodbye?’

  ‘What?’

  Frowning, his mouth dropped open before he quickly snapped it shut in a thin, unimpressed line.

  ‘I’m leaving next week. Thanks to our island jaunt I’ve got a promotion based in LA.’

  ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She hated this stilted conversation, wished he would sweep her into his arms and plant a huge celebratory kiss on her lips as he once would’ve done.

  But their time for kissing was long past. They were over, finished, and this time she’d have the full closure she deserved.

  ‘Look, we were friends if nothing else. We shared a past, we shared an interesting week on the island. I just wanted to say goodbye face to face, that’s it.’

  She didn’t have to spell it out for him, a flicker of guilt clouding his eyes.

  ‘You want the goodbye you didn’t get last time.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Is that too much to ask?’

  ‘No.’

  His gaze locked on hers, the intensity slamming into her.

  She opened her mouth to respond, totally losing her train of thought as he stepped closer, her heart jackknifing at the proximity, recognising how much she’d miss him.

  He caressed her cheek, the barest brush of fingertips against skin that sent a shudder of longing through her. ‘So this is it?’

  She managed to draw air into her lungs to form the words ‘This is it,’ her trembling body making a mockery of her response.

  He hesitated a second before crushing his mouth to hers, the impulsive kiss every bit as wonderful, as wild, as unrestrained as she remembered.

  She hadn’t planned this as part of their goodbye, hadn’t thought beyond a civilised parting enabling her to move on with her life, but as he backed her up against the nearest wall, deepened the kiss to the point of no return, she knew her quiet, polite farewell plans had just gone up in smoke.

  When they came up for air she took a step back, needing space to recover, needing air like a
diver with an attack of the bends. ‘You want the local kids to get some decent sex education too while they drop in?’

  He muttered a curse. ‘Lost it for a moment.’

  ‘Guess we both did.’

  Something she couldn’t afford if she was to walk away from him, head held high.

  Her first instinct to hold out her hand for a farewell handshake died at the confusion in his eyes, the pain mirroring her own, so she settled for a quick kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Goodbye, Jared. I wish you all the luck in the world.’

  While the logical part of her had already mentally rehearsed this goodbye, emotionally, the young woman who’d once loved him with all her heart wished he’d sweep her into his arms and never let go.

  When he didn’t speak, she turned and walked away, her heels rapping loudly in the silence, echoing the hollowness in her heart.

  She’d done it.

  Had closure.

  So why did it hurt so damn much?

  With tears cascading down her cheeks and rigid determination not to look back, she headed for the door, and missed seeing a world champion brought to his knees in defeat.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re leaving.’

  Meg scrubbed the kitchen bench with added vehemence, her pout reminiscent of the many times she’d tried to snaffle one of Kristi’s Barbies and failed. ‘And for six months! What sort of an aunt leaves Prue for that long?’

  ‘An aunt cementing her career. An aunt hoping to fly her favourite niece over to Disneyland with the hefty raise she’s getting.’

  Kristi’s dry response garnered the slightest smile from her sister.

  ‘We can pay our own way, thanks to your generosity.’ Meg’s bottom lip wobbled before she clamped down on it with her overbite. ‘But honestly, sis, I’m going to miss you.’

  ‘Ditto, kid, but it isn’t for ever.’

  Unlike her break-up with Jared, the thought, sending a stabbing pain like a stake through her heart.

  ‘Oh-oh.’

  Meg ditched her cleaning cloth and flung open the freezer door, passing a tub of Turkish delight ice cream and a spoon.