by Carla Caruso
Winnie stiffened, like he’d just put her over one shoulder, carried her to the shore and thrown her headfirst into the choppy, icy waters. ‘Excuse me?’
Alex’s tone softened. ‘It’s just you cover so much varied stuff at Beach Life. And do a good job of it. Wouldn’t it be better to keep your options open rather than focus on something as – as frivolous as fashion?’
Winnie pushed his hands away with force and rolled to the other side of the mattress, as far away as possible. She pulled the sheets up under her armpits, staring hard at his shadowy features in the semi-darkness. ‘You think I’m being frivolous?’
He sighed, propping himself up on one elbow and scraping a hand through his hair. ‘Not you, personally. I just think you’ve got a lot more to offer. That you’re selling yourself short. Do you really want to be part of that fake, air-kissing fashion world forever? Don’t you think you’d eventually become jaded?’
Winnie sat up, her heart pounding. ‘I’ll have you know the fashion industry is worth billions of dollars to Australia’s economy. I hardly think that’s somehow frivolous or – or immature. Besides, what makes my dream any more frivolous than yours? Taking photos isn’t exactly saving lives, and fishing only takes them.’
He extended a hand towards her. ‘Winnie, you’re right. Come here. That came out all wrong. I didn’t mean to offend you.’
She ignored his hand and leapt from the bed, tugging the white doona out from under his arms with her. Let him suffer in the cold. Suddenly, the conditions inside seemed more thundery than beyond the walls. ‘Goodnight, Alex.’
His sigh followed her as she stalked off to the lounge, the doona draped around her like an oversized cape. The scratchy-looking couch didn’t appear too inviting in the flash of lightning, so she sank instead onto the shag rug – at least it looked freshly shampooed – wrapping herself in the duvet’s cushioned warmth.
How had she been sucked in again by Alex’s ocean-like eyes and rugged charms? He was just as stubborn and superior as the day she’d first met him. A Neanderthal. Why did she ever think he could change? The blood swirling in her veins was a match for the wild, woolly conditions outside.
The minutes ticked by and Winnie’s breathing slowed, tiredness and frustration wearying her bones. Maybe she’d even be blessed with sleep that night, in spite of everything. She felt Alex fumbling beneath the doona, sliding in beside her. She breathed in his unforgettable, salt-of-the-earth scent, felt his warmth wrap around her and a kiss land, as light as a butterfly, on her shoulder.
‘I’m sorry. I was out of line before,’ he whispered in her ear.
‘You were,’ Winnie huffed, though, in truth, she could feel herself unfolding, relenting, yielding beneath his touch. She rubbed her nose distractedly. ‘But maybe – maybe you touched a nerve.’
Her fingertips found a loose thread on the doona. She snapped it free. ‘Sometimes I do wonder if I’m cut out for that world, too. Dealing with demanding editors and models day in, day out – the cattiness; the relentless pressure. Often I was so worried about putting a foot wrong and trying to fit in in Sydney, I didn’t even know if I was enjoying myself. If it was what I really wanted or just about living the opposite life to my floaty mother’s, and having a taste of my dad’s high-flying world.
‘I liked seeing my byline and telling people what I did for a living, but at other times, I was too busy tying myself up in knots with stress, even at a smaller magazine. And sometimes the magazine world is kind of hard to take seriously, especially in the face of a job like yours. Fishing. You’re out in the elements, at one with nature – I know there’s more to life than magazines.’
Alex’s warm breath tickled her ear. ‘What you do is still valuable. I kind of overstated things before. And I don’t think you’d be alone in feeling insecure in the industry – everyone would be intent on keeping up, staying ahead of the pack. That doesn’t mean you should doubt yourself if you decide it is what you want to keep pursuing. You’re talented, creative, passionate. Nothing should stop you.’
Winnie rolled over to face him. ‘Thank you.’
And now it was her chance to press her lips against his as a jumble of emotions tumbled within her and the weather continued to rage outside.
An expletive rang through the air, several decibels louder than the fishing program Alex was currently watching from Winnie’s beanbag.
Jumping to his feet, he was at the bathroom in a few strides, where she’d been busy getting ready. ‘Everything okay in there?’ he called through the door.
It was late Sunday morning and they were back at her unit after their trip to Robe. He’d been enjoying lounging at her place, not feeling sleepy from fishing for a change, until she had to head off to some baby shower for Honey.
‘No,’ Winnie squealed. ‘The stupid shower knob’s come loose. Crusty old thing. Water’s gushing everywhere.’ He could hear a waterfall-like sound beyond the door.
‘Right. Where’s your water meter? I’ll go turn it off.’
‘In the front yard. I think.’
‘I’m on it.’
‘I’m still a modern-day feminist, even if I’m no good at plumbing.’
‘Course you are.’
Alex rushed outside. Though the sky shone blue, there were signs of the overnight storm having left its destructive path: tree branches lying broken on the ground, scattered leaves, and overturned bins and pot plants. After locating the meter, Alex headed back indoors to find Winnie wrapped in a fluffy beige towel and perched on the loo, her hair wet. The shower, thankfully, was off.
Pushing open the shower door, he stepped inside, screwed the knob back in and trod out again. The heat and condensation in the room, coupled with Winnie’s near-nakedness, made his mouth dry. He kept his gaze on her face, rather than trailing the length of her. Things felt a little more awkward in the light of day.
‘Uh, should be okay now. I’ll just go turn the meter back on.’
She stood up swiftly, her dark eyes pinned on him, and boldly let her towel slip to the floor. Swallowing, he gave his gaze the okay to wander to where the water trickled between the crevice of her breasts to the soft curve of her hips and the dampness between her legs.
She ducked her head, wet strands falling in her face. ‘Maybe you could even join me afterwards.’
He struggled to clear his throat. ‘I could do that.’
Within minutes, both had forgotten their inhibitions, steaming up the room beyond the usual shower fog. It was as though they wanted to enjoy every last drop of one another while they still could.
When they were sated, Alex towelled off and dressed again, leaving Winnie to properly wash her hair and get ready.
He’d only just reclined in the beanbag when she called out once more. ‘Alex, sorry, I’ve run out of shampoo. I just bought a new bottle. It should be in a shopping bag near my bed. Would you mind grabbing it?’
‘No problem.’ On his feet again, he creaked open the door of her bedroom. The shampoo wasn’t difficult to find at all – it was exactly where she’d said it would be. Just as he was reaching for it, a sheet of folded-up pink cardboard poking out beneath her camp bed caught his eye.
He moved to kick it back, then changed his mind, unable to help himself. He reached down and picked up the cardboard, unfolding it. A handwritten sentence jumped out from the cut-out pictures: No more losing your heart over emotionally unavailable men – particularly at work. What was all that about? Grant? Him?
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the screen. A private number. Straightening, he jabbed the answer button. ‘Hello?’
There was a heartbeat of silence, then a soft hi. His gut jolted. Just one syllable, but he knew that voice. Even coming down the line from thousands of kilometres away. His elder sister, Eleni.
‘How’d you get this number?’ he whispered urgently into the mouthpiece.
‘That doesn’t matter, adelfáki. I just wanted to warn you . . .’ A sigh rattled down the line. �
��He knows you’re in Australia. It won’t be long . . . it won’t be long before he tracks you down.’
Alex felt his blood pressure ratchet up a notch. Still, stubbornness overpowered him. ‘Australia’s a big place. Good luck to him.’
‘It doesn’t have to be this way, you know,’ Eleni said quietly, as though they were sitting alongside one another at the dining table, like old times. ‘You could call him, sort things out. Just because you felt betrayed and had your heart broken by that silly girl, it doesn’t mean —’
‘Forget it.’ Alex barked, anger suddenly coursing through his veins. ‘I’m not scared of him – or her – and I’m not coming back.’ With a stab of his thumb, he terminated the call and turned off the phone for good measure.
He’d get a new number next week and tell any locals who needed him – Winnie – that he’d lost his phone. He wasn’t going to be found by those from his past life. Not if he could help it.
The call caused Alex’s momentary haze of madness to lift, just like that. He’d been driven by what was in his pants this weekend, but the behaviour had to stop. For Winnie’s sake.
His secret meant he couldn’t offer her anything more than he already had. Why play a game of charades? He’d discovered she wasn’t the heartless social climber he’d pegged her for; she’d just been led astray on occasion. And he couldn’t keep hurting her. He was just the sort of emotionally unavailable man she should avoid, like that bit of cardboard said, and she deserved better. Far better. He needed to be cruel to be kind. To close up his heart again.
He’d let her down gently, just as soon as he’d figured out how. It was safer that way – for the both of them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Mocktail?’ From Cyndi’s front door Eden extended a tray of pink and blue drinks at Winnie.
‘Oh, uh, thanks.’ Winnie juggled the Huggies jumbo box she was carrying under one arm and helped herself to a cornflower-blue tipple.
Cyndi, lurking behind Eden’s shoulder, mouthed, ‘I had to invite her,’ accompanied by an eye roll – a vaguely affectionate one.
Winnie fought back a grin, edging inside. With Bruna not around, she’d decided to head to Honey’s baby shower, after all. Of course, she could have snuggled up with Alex all day, but she didn’t want to be that type of girl, the type who forgot all else whenever a new guy arrived on the scene. The bow-adorned box of Huggies was a last-minute gift idea.
Eden sashayed away and Winnie moved down the hall, stopped short by Cyndi floating a dirty nappy under her nose. Winnie gripped her glass’s stem tighter so the contents wouldn’t spill out. ‘Is that for real?’
A chuckle escaped Cyndi’s glossy lips. ‘The poo’s not real. It’s for a game where you guess which brand of chocolate’s been melted inside.’
‘Yikes.’ Winnie hazarded a guess. ‘Tim Tam?’
Cyndi’s dark-blonde waves whipped her round cheeks as she shook her head. ‘Nope, but good try. Hey, that reminds me – in a weird sort of way! I made you a birthday cake. Chocolate fudge. I thought you’d be busy yesterday, so I was going to drop it off later today.’
‘You made me a cake?’ Winnie had to blink back sudden tears. She couldn’t imagine any of her so-called pals in Sydney baking for her, let alone one day throwing her a baby shower.
‘Yeah. That’s what mates are for, right?’ Cyndi said shyly. ‘Besides,’ she gave a small shrug, ‘I’m entering the South-East Field Days bake off, so it was good practice.’
Slightly overwhelmed, Winnie reached forward and gave the beautician a one-armed hug. Cyndi smelled of perfumed, peachy skin and hairspray.
‘Thank you,’ Winnie said, with meaning. Who knew her birthday weekend would be even better than expected, all thanks to the good folk of Kingston?
‘Ahem, think you’ve got the guest of honour mixed up there.’ A grinning Honey ambled into view. Winnie and Cyndi pulled apart. ‘And did I hear you mention cake, Cyndi? Hope you didn’t lick the bowl given you’ve just announced your latest thing’s going sugar-free.’
Cyndi poked out her tongue at her.
Stepping forward, Winnie pressed the Huggies box into Honey’s hands. ‘Hey, this is for you.’ She grew serious for a moment. ‘And, I have to say, you might not have pregnancy aqua aerobics and the like around here, but you have great friends – Cyndi particularly.’
‘I know.’ Honey smiled. ‘Wouldn’t want to say it too often though or,’ she winked, ‘some people might get a big head.’
Winnie returned the smile. ‘So how’ve you been feeling?’
‘Good, apart from my hair and skin looking crap, my new duck waddle, the constipation – sorry, ladies, but no one wants to be seen buying “stool softeners” at the chemist – and not being able to do up my own shoes, all’s going well.’
Cyndi shook her head, remarking drolly, ‘And there’s going to be two miniature versions of her out in the world soon.’
Honey hadn’t finished, though. ‘It hit me the other day, too. I’m never going to be able to go nightclubbing again. Can you believe it? Even if the nearest club is in Mount Gambier. Meanwhile, the little bubbacinos are having a disco inside me. It’s like watching something out of Alien seeing them move under my skin.’
‘You can go nightclubbing,’ Cyndi interjected. ‘You just won’t be deemed a fit mother.’
Winnie giggled. ‘You two make me laugh.’
Seconds later, Eden, who’d apparently taken over hosting duties, swept back into view and rounded the trio into the other room. A bunch of other women were waiting to play a game of pin the umbilical cord on the baby. The pictured bub looked like it was being held in the arms of a naked, pregnant Mariah Carey, with Honey’s head stuck over the top.
‘You forgot to add the blue veins on my tummy and chocolate-bullet nipples,’ Honey chirruped.
While waiting for their turn to have a go, Cyndi nudged Winnie. ‘So what happened with Olive and that optometrist guy?’ she whispered. ‘After our makeover the other day? You never told me.’
‘Yeah, all went well,’ Winnie said in a low voice. ‘In the end. I had to push her to approach him after the seminar. You should have seen how nervous she was asking if he was up for a quick coffee afterwards. She’s normally so ballsy, too.’
Cyndi’s navy-blue eyes widened. ‘And what did he say?’
‘Well, he actually said no at first – quite abruptly – and Olive was devastated. But later he texted to say the only reason was because he had to pick up his son from school. Don’t think he knew how to tell her he was a single dad. Anyway, he and Olive are going on a date this weekend instead.’
Cyndi grinned. ‘Score.’
Winnie sat back in her plastic seat. ‘Tell me about it.’
Seconds passed and Cyndi suddenly dug Winnie in the ribs again. ‘Hey, a little birdie told me you and Alex are having a tawdry affair – for real this time. Someone saw you holding hands in the street.’
Winnie’s insides curdled. She so didn’t want another fiasco with Cyndi to rival the clothes-stealing one. She gulped. ‘Wow, news sure travels fast around here. Um, I’m not sure I’d call it an affair exactly —’
Cyndi put up her hands in the surrender position. ‘Hey, it’s cool with me. I’ve moved on. Catching up with Kirk has kept me more than occupied, if you know what I mean.’
Winnie’s shoulders sagged. ‘Good for you. As for Alex and me, we’re just having fun, seeing where things lead.’
A chirp sounded from her handbag just as Eden called Cyndi up to be blindfolded. Discreetly, Winnie fished her phone out and checked the message. It didn’t take long to scan.
U were right in the first place, Win. Ths wkend was a bad idea. We got carried away. It cant b repeated. Sorry.
In the space of a breath, Winnie’s mood changed. Suddenly all she wanted to do was scrub her face free of make-up, lie down somewhere dark, and shut out the world. Be anywhere but where she was. The laughter, smiles and colour were too much to take.
S
he and Alex had left things open-ended. He hadn’t told her any half-truths, made her any promises. But she’d let her heart run away with itself anyway. It was her own fault, really. Maybe he’d even sensed she was clinging on. And now he was making things perfectly clear.
After they’d been so intimate together. After everything they’d shared.
To add insult to injury, he hadn’t even waited until the end of her birthday weekend to spell things out.
She felt discarded like old bait. Not that she shouldn’t have been used to it. Being abandoned by the men in her life happened time and time again. The life felt sucked out of her.
But leaving when a party was in full swing wasn’t the type of thing good friends did. And Winnie didn’t want to be of Bruna’s ilk – or Alex’s ilk, for that matter. So she squared her shoulders, pasted on a smile, and prepared to stick out the afternoon. There was plenty of time for crying – and kicking herself – later on. Stuffing herself with birthday cake alone that night would be the perfect accompaniment.
Winnie was determined to be professional at the Beach Life fashion shoot. Even if Allira Becci was proving to be a royal pain in the butt, despite her pure-as-snow image – Olive had been right. Even if half the clothes Winnie had called in from PRs had accidentally been sent to Kingston-on-Murray and she had to make do with what she had.
Even if she had to be within a hair’s breadth of Alex.
Alex apparently knew Allira from someplace else, not that he’d ever mentioned it. Maybe he moved in better social circles overseas than Winnie thought, though she couldn’t imagine how. Or more likely, he’d photographed the ice-blonde beauty before. Allira even had a pet name for him: Cy or Sigh, or some such.
The idea that the pair might have some other kind of history wasn’t worth contemplating. Of course, Winnie didn’t dare ask Alex the actualities – she wanted to keep things strictly work-related. As did Alex, it seemed, which was a relief and disheartening all at the same time.
