by Miranda Lee
Fiona frowned over at him. ‘I would have thought you could have afforded to buy any house you wanted straight away, being your father’s only son and heir.’
‘True. But it’s a funny thing about inherited money. You don’t get nearly as much pleasure and satisfaction spending it as you do the money you’ve earned yourself.’
‘Is that the reason you went into criminal law, instead of corporate law? Because it paid more?’
‘Not at all. No, I went into criminal law because corporate manoeuvrings, no matter how conniving or clever, just didn’t cut it with my competitive spirit. I never was a team player, even when I was a boy at school. I like single-handed combat. Tennis. Judo. Fencing. They were my chosen sports. I never was one for cricket or football.
‘Or boardrooms,’ he added, and shot her a wry smile. ‘The courtroom, however, is much more my style. A gladiatorial arena where man is pitted against man. Blood is let there, believe me. I find it an exciting challenge ensuring that the blood is not mine, or my clients’.’
The passion in his voice sent her heart doing flip-flops inside her chest. That was what separated Phihp from the rest of the men she’d known in the past ten years. The intensity of his passion.
‘You really love it, don’t you?’ she murmured.
‘I suppose I do,’ he said, sounding almost surprised at this self-discovery. ‘But why did you say it like that?’ And he fixed his intelligent blue eyes on hers. ‘Don’t you love your job?’
Fiona looked away and tried to think.
Did she? There was a certain satisfaction after a wedding of a job well done. But, in truth, it wasn’t easy seeing couples so much in love all the time, radiant with joy on their special day, then going off on their honeymoons, full of optimism and happiness. It was a constant reminder of what she’d missed out on, and what she would never have.
‘I like being my own boss,’ she hedged. ‘And it pays well.’
‘Money’s not everything.’
‘Yes, I do know that, Philip,’ she defended coolly. ‘I’m not as superficial as you seem determined to believe. Even if I was, I’m at a loss to know why the way I live my life nowadays bothers you so much, or even at all!’
His eyebrows lifted and his eyes glittered beneath them. ‘It shouldn’t, should it?’
‘No,’ she said firmly.
He actually gave her remark some thought, then pursed his lips before turning cold blue eyes her way. ‘You’re quite right,’ he said curtly. ‘You have every right to live your life as you see fit and I have no right to pass judgement on it. If I’ve been rude, then please accept my apology. It’s just that—’
He broke off as something troubling flashed across his eyes, momentarily upsetting his icy equilibrium.
‘Just what?’ she probed softly, and the muscles in his face stiffened.
‘Nothing,’ he ground out. ‘I can see now that I romanticised our relationship in my memory. Maybe I even romanticised Noni. Maybe she wasn’t what I thought. Ever! At the time, I found it hard to believe Noni when she said she’d only married me because of the baby, and that once the baby was gone there was no point in continuing with our marriage. I found it even harder to believe her when she claimed she wasn’t really in love with me, that it was just a sexual thing, and that sooner or later it would fizzle out.’
Fiona just stared at him, afraid of where this was leading, fearful that she might have to repeat those old lies all over again.
He laughed. ‘No need to look so worried. Fiona, my rose-coloured glasses have fallen away well and truly now. I finally appreciate that you weren’t lying back then. Sex was the only basis of our relationship. Marriage between us would have eventually ended in divorce, as your second marriage did. I was the romantic fool. You were the sensible one. Yet at the time I could have sworn it was the other way around.’
Fiona’s eyes were wide and unwavering upon him.
‘In hindsight,’ he raved on, ‘the truth is now perfectly obvious. I’m surprised I didn’t realise it before today. Hell, when did we ever do anything together except make love? We never went out. We never even talked much. We just tore each other’s clothes off and did it all the time. That’s not love, as you said. It’s just sex.’
Fiona flinched at this harsh dismissal of what she’d always believed the great love of her love. His cold certainty actually raised questions in her own mind. Had it just been sex, even on her part? Had she broken her heart over an illusion, one which would have died a natural death if she’d stuck around? Had she made the ultimate sacrifice for nothing?
Her bewildered gaze raked over Philip as she sought for answers.
There were none to be found in looking at him, only more confusion as she began to respond to his beautiful male body on that superficial sexual level which he’d just reminded her of with such perverse honesty. All that talk of how much they’d once made love didn’t exactly help. She started thinking of the many times they’d made love in his car back in the old days; how steering wheels and gearsticks had been just minor hurdles to be laughingly got around, with the back seat the ultimate in decadence if they’d thought they could last long enough to climb into the back. They’d invented positions and mutual activities in that small car which the Kama Sutra hadn’t thought of.
Her breathing grew shallow at the memories, her mouth drying, her head growing light.
A child suddenly ran past the car, laughing loudly. The sound snapped Fiona back to the reality of what was happening to her, both in her mind and body.
Action was called for. Swiftly distracting action! She dredged up her most dazzling and superficial smile, startling a grim-faced Philip with it while she reached for the doorknob.
‘So glad we finally got that all sorted out!’ she pronounced. ‘Now we can go have lunch and sort out something far more important. Your wedding!’ And she was out of the car in a flash, pulling her skirt down as far as it would go and breathing in deeply several times.
Philip was slower to alight from his side, and when he did he looked disgruntled.
‘I thought we’d decided to leave all the wedding details up to you and my mother,’ he said.
‘In the main. But I still want to know what you’d like.’
‘What I’d like, Fiona,’ he returned sharply, ‘is to simply have lunch without any talk of the wedding at all. Do you think we might leave all that till later, back at your office?’
She felt slightly perplexed by this request. And troubled. His wedding was such a safe subject. But she shrugged her acquiescence, determined to keep up the indifferent role she’d chosen to play with him. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘That’s what I want,’ he said firmly, and, taking her elbow, began to steer her along the pavement towards a nearby building which she presumed was the Watermark restaurant.
It was.
‘Besides,’ he added as he stopped abruptly at the door, ‘I haven’t quite sorted out what happened ten years ago to my total satisfaction. I still have one question to ask you.’
Fiona tried not to look concerned. ‘Fine,’ she said blithely. ‘Ask away.’
‘Not right now,’ he returned. ‘It can wait.’ And he let go her arm to pull open the door, and gallantly wave her inside first.
Fiona found a smile from somewhere, and walked past him into the restaurant.
CHAPTER NINE
EVERRYONE in the restaurant knew him by name. They were also given one of the best tables in the house, down in a private corner with a view to die for.
Not that the other tables didn’t have lovely views. The Watermark wasn’t called the Watermark for nothing. It took advantage of its position right on the beach, with huge windows facing the water and a simple, uncluttered decor which didn’t distract its patrons from the beauty beyond the glass.
Fiona liked it on sight. And might have said so if she hadn’t felt so distracted already. What other question could Philip possibly want to ask her, if he now accepted the thi
ngs Noni had told him ten years ago? She couldn’t begin to imagine what was still bothering him!
On top of that worry, she was still rattled by the questions Philip had raised in her own mind.
Had she loved him or hadn’t she?
There was no doubt that her feelings had been superficial and strictly sexual out there in the car just now. But that was logical because she definitely no longer loved him.
That didn’t mean her feelings for Philip had always been like that. Fiona simply refused to accept their past relationship had been nothing but sex.
She had loved him. She knew she had. No one made the kind of sacrifice she’d made except out of a deep and true love!
Satisfied at long last, she glanced up from where she’d been blankly looking at the menu which the very discreet waiter had left with her some time back.
Philip was silently studying the wine list, looking incredibly serious and incredibly handsome. She let herself admire him for a few secret moments, before glancing around again.
‘What a perfect setting for a restaurant,’ she said. ‘I presume you come here often, Philip?’
He looked up from the wine list and she smiled over at him, determined to act naturally. His head cocked slightly to one side and she could see his mind ticking away.
Fiona wondered what he was thinking.
‘Often enough,’ he returned. ‘It’s one of the places I can have a few glasses of wine with my dinner and not have to worry about driving home afterwards. I can walk.’
‘You always did like your wine,’ she murmured, the comment sparking another memory, which contradicted something Philip had said earlier.
‘You know, we did talk back then, Philip,’ she pointed out, before she could think better of it. ‘Especially in the beginning. Remember the first night you took me out? To that fancy restaurant in town? You ordered a bottle of wine and I was scandalised by the price. We sat at that table till the restaurant closed, just talking. You talked to me about everything under the sun. Remember?’
He smiled a rather rueful smile. ‘Of course I remember. Only too well. I was trying to impress you, with the wine and the conversation.’
‘Then you succeeded.’
‘Really?’
She bristled at his cynical tone. ‘Yes, Philip. Really.’
‘I doubt it would be as easy to impress you these days. So, what would you like to drink, Fiona?’ he asked when the waiter materialised once again by their table. ‘I can’t drink much, not if I’m going to dnve afterwards. Maybe a glass or two.’
‘Perhaps we could share a bottle,’ she suggested.
‘White or red?’
‘White,’ she returned firmly. ‘Chardonnay. Oaked.’
One of his eyebrows arched, and he handed her the wine list. ‘You choose, then,’ he commanded.
She hesitated only a fraction before dropping her eyes to the list and swiftly selecting a Tasmaman Chardonnay which she’d never tried before but which was hopefully as good as its price warranted. She ordered it in a crisp, confident voice, handing the wine list back to the waiter before returning a steady gaze to Philip.
He was watching her with a type of reluctant admiration.
‘I see you really know your wines nowadays,’ he said, once they were alone again.
Fiona shrugged. ‘There are a lot of things I know nowadays that I didn’t once.’
He leant back in his chair and gave her a long, thoughtful look. ‘Yes, I can see that. And I have to admit I’m curious. How did you go from being Noni to Fiona? It’s more than just a surface transformation. You do everything differently. The way you walk and talk. The way you dress and do your make-up. Everything, really. It couldn’t have come easily, or cheaply.’
‘It didn’t.’
‘So who paid for the transformation? Alimony from your truck driver ex? Or some sugar daddy you met after your divorce?’
Fiona frowned. He really did have a low opinion of her. ‘I’ll have you know I paid for everything with money I earned myself. The modelling school. The elocution classes. Endless night school. Everything.’
‘Doing what, exactly?’
‘My Higher School Certificate, for starters. How long do you think that took?’
‘That’s not what I meant, although I’m sure it didn’t take you all that long. You always were very smart, even if you didn’t think so yourself. I meant how did you earn the money for all those courses? That couldn’t have been easy.’
‘I worked in a factory packing meat during the week and as a waitress at the weekend. At a wedding reception place. That’s where I learnt a lot about the wedding business. Owen worked there, too, actually. He—’
The return of the waiter with the wine had Fiona breaking off her story mid-stream. She nodded her approval when he went through the charade of presenting the bottle to her with the label on show, then sat there silently while he opened it and poured out a small amount for her to sample.
She sipped it, said it was fine, then waited again—somewhat impatiently—while both their glasses were skilfully filled and the bottle was arranged in the portable ice bucket. She was eager to get back to telling Philip all she’d achieved on her own. She’d liked the way he’d started watching her while she spoke, with respect and admiration, much better than his thinking she was some kind of slut who had slept her way to success.
‘Would you like to order yet, Mr Forsythe?’ the waiter checked before he left the table.
Fiona was pleased when Philip told him to come back in a couple of minutes, then turned his attention back to her, leaning forward slightly and looking deeply into her eyes.
‘Go on,’ he said warmly. ‘You were saying something about Owen working there as well?’
‘Yes. He was responsible for the table setting and the flowers. Owen’s very creative. He also worked at a formal clothes hire place during the week. His mother was a professional dressmaker and taught him a lot about clothes, especially wedding clothes. They were her specialty. We used to have coffee together after a reception was over and talk about our plans for the future. I told Owen I wanted to go into PR work and he said he was going to open a wedding consultancy. Once we realised both careers complemented each other, we started working towards going into business together. I found work at an established wedding consultancy to learn the ropes and we both started saving madly. In less than a year, Five-Star Weddings became a reality. I don’t think I’m boasting when I say we’ve been very successful.’
‘Amazing. Your dad must be very proud of you.’
‘Er...not exactly. We don’t see each other any more.’
‘Why’s that?’
Fiona sighed. ‘He wasn’t pleased about my leaving Kevin for starters. On top of that, he finally found himself a new wife, and Doreen doesn’t care for me at all. She thinks I’m too la-di-da. So does Dad now.’ She smiled a sad smile. ‘Weird, isn’t it? Your mother once called me cheap and common. Now my own father calls me a snob. You can’t win, can you?’
‘That reminds me,’ Philip said, frowning and straightening up.
‘Reminds you of what?’
‘Of that question I wanted to ask you...’
Fiona tensed, and Philip threw her a searching look.
‘The night of our wedding...’
The vice around Fiona’s chest tightened further. ‘What about it?’
‘Remember when the doctor left and Mum sent me down the road to get the painkillers he prescribed?’
‘Y...yes...’
‘Did Mum say anything to you while I was gone? Put any pressure on you to give up on our marriage so quickly? I mean... from what you said yesterday, her criticisms affected you even more than I realised at the time. I’ve been wondering if she used some kind of emotional blackmail, or maybe even a bribe to get you to—’
‘A bribe!’ Fiona broke in, shocked and angry. ‘You think I took money from your mother to leave you?’
His face remained unmoved. ‘It crossed
my mind, Fiona. It’s just that you seemed to change radically while I was away. One minute you were clinging to me and crying over our lost baby. Then, half an hour later, you’d gone all cold on me. You could hardly even look at me as you told me of your decision to call it quits with our marriage and our relationship. It’s only reasonable to wonder whether Mother might have got to you while I was away.’
‘I didn’t even speak to your mother that night. I couldn’t bear to look at her for thinking how relieved she must be that my baby was gone.’
He nodded slowly, sadly. ‘I see. Well, I just had to be sure.’
‘Please, Philip,’ she said shakily, eyes pleading. ‘Can we close that subject once and for all?’
He frowned. ‘It still upsets you?’
‘Of course it still upsets me. I lost my baby that day. I don’t like to think about it.’
His frown deepened. ‘Is that why you decided not to have any more children? Because you’re frightened that might happen again?’
Fiona could feel her emotions getting the better of her. To break down in front of Philip at this stage would be disastrous! She had to be strong. And hard. She hadn’t survived this long to weaken now.
‘It wasn’t children I decided against so much, but marriage. And I don’t believe in having children outside of marriage. Not for any moralistic reason but because I think children need two parents, married and in love, to have the best chance of growing up to be well-adjusted adults instead of needy neurotics.’
‘And is that what you think you are? A needy neurotic?’
‘Sometimes. Oh, good, here’s the waiter. Now, what shall I order...?’
Ordering their courses was nicely distracting. Unfortunately, the waiter soon bustled off to do their bidding, leaving Fiona alone with Philip once more. She had never felt more strained in all her life. How she was going to get through the next couple of hours she had no idea!
