by Nicola Marsh
‘A little.’ She waved a hand side to side. ‘Mostly stuck to the truth with the WAG side of things. Played up all that glamorous nonsense people lap up. It’s what he asked for.’
‘What about your folks?’
‘I told the truth. Within reason.’
Even now, ten years after her mum had walked out on them, and over two decades since her dad had bolted too, Liza cushioned the hurt by justifying their appalling behaviour.
They didn’t deserve it but the last thing she needed was for Cindy to realise the truth one day. That their parents had left because of her.
Cindy had been too young to know their father, had swallowed the story their mum had told: they’d grown apart and divorced. When in fact he’d been a coward, unable to cope with a disabled daughter and had taken the easy way out by abandoning them all.
As for their mum? Cindy wasn’t a fool and had been stoic when she’d left. Louisa had emotionally withdrawn for years and Cindy had been philosophical, almost happy, when it had just been the two of them left.
Finding Shar at the time had been a godsend too and Liza knew she wouldn’t have made it without the full-time carer and confidante.
‘As long as you didn’t tell blatant lies, I don’t see what the problem is.’ Shar picked up the ARC and flipped through it. ‘What did he mean about losing everything?’
‘Apparently the advance came out of his pocket.’
But from what she’d learned, Wade was loaded. Had his own publishing company in London.
Then again, she knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceptive. If his company was anything like Qu Publishing and the rest of the industry, maybe he’d taken a hit with the digital boom and was losing millions with falling print runs?
But her bio was already at the printers, ready to ship to the many bookstores that had pre-ordered by the thousands. And those pre-orders were like gold.
So what if she’d omitted Cindy? What the readers didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
He’d overreacted, probably smarting more from her omission than any real financial pressure.
Shar laid the ARC on the table and nudged it towards her. ‘Maybe you should talk to him?’
‘Are you kidding?’ Liza shook her head. ‘You didn’t see how mad he was.’
‘Give him time to cool off, then talk to him.’ Shar took a huge bite of brownie, chewed it, before continuing. ‘Besides, isn’t he your boss? You’ll have to talk some time.’
That was when reality hit.
She’d have to face up to work and see that devastation and disgust in Wade’s eyes all over again.
The pain in her chest intensified.
Shar dusted off her hands. ‘Go easy on him. I think he likes you.’
That’s where the problem lay.
Liza liked him too.
Too much to be good for her.
* * *
After helping bathe and dress Cindy, Liza settled into the nightly routine of rubbing moisturiser into Cindy’s dry skin.
It was their special bonding time, to relax and chat about their respective days. Liza had missed it on those evenings when she’d been on WAG duty. Guess it said a lot about her previous lifestyle that she would’ve rather been home with her sis than whooping it up with a bunch of fake socialites.
‘That feels good.’ Cindy closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the chair as Liza spread the moisturiser evenly over her forearm with firm strokes.
‘Your skin’s looking great,’ Liza said, always on the lookout for pressure sores or skin breakdown, common side effects with CP.
‘Thanks to you.’ Cindy sighed as Liza increased the pressure slightly. ‘Wade seems nice.’
‘Hmm.’ Liza deliberately kept her strokes rhythmic, not wanting to alert Cindy to her sudden spike in blood pressure.
She didn’t want to think about Wade now, didn’t want to remember the disappointment and censure in his eyes as he’d stalked out two hours ago.
His accusation cut deep. To think, he’d assumed she was ashamed of Cindy...well, stuff him.
He wouldn’t have a clue what it was like, trying to keep Cindy calm and avoiding stress that could potentially increase her spasticity.
Liza had seen it happen, any time Cindy was anxious, upset, agitated or excited. The medical team had advised her to avoid such situations. And that was the main reason Liza hadn’t included Cindy in the book.
She couldn’t run the risk of people invading Cindy’s privacy, pestering for interviews and potentially increasing the likelihood of those disastrous contractures.
The changes in Cindy’s soft tissues terrified Liza. The shortening of muscles, tendons and ligaments could lead to muscle stiffness, atrophy and fibrosis, where the muscles become smaller and thinner.
And if those muscles permanently shortened and pulled on the nearby bones the resultant deformities were a significant problem.
Her sis worked so hard at her exercises but Liza constantly worried about contractures, where the spasticity in Cindy’s arm and leg might reach a point where the muscles required surgical release.
Cindy co-operated most days but they’d had their battles over the years, where no amount of cajoling or bribery could get Cindy to follow her exercise regimen.
Liza hated playing taskmaster but she did it. Anything to avoid seeing Cindy in more pain than she already was.
Cindy coped with the chronic pain from minor muscle contractures and abnormal postures of her joints admirably but it broke Liza’s heart every time her sis winced or cried out during her routine.
Liza stayed positive and tried to encourage as much as she could, for the possibility of a hip subluxation or scoliosis from the contractures was all too real and she wanted to avoid further medical intervention for Cindy at all costs.
So including her in the biography and having Cindy agitated or overexcited, leading to contractures?
Uh-uh, Liza couldn’t do it. She’d never intentionally hurt her sister or put her in harm’s way and that was how she’d viewed revealing Cindy’s identity to the world.
As for Shar’s insinuation that maybe Liza hadn’t wanted to be tainted by Cindy’s disability in some way, that was off base.
Liza would’ve loved to raise awareness for cerebral palsy, the association and the carers, and her tell-all would’ve been the perfect vehicle.
But Cindy came first always and she couldn’t run the risk of her spasticity worsening.
‘He said he was your boyfriend.’ Cindy’s eyes snapped open and pinned Liza with an astute glare she had no hope of evading.
‘Guys get confused sometimes.’ Liza reached for Cindy’s other arm and started the massage process all over again. ‘Smile and they think you’re crushing on them.’
Cindy giggled, a sound Liza never tired of. ‘Maybe that’s the problem? You’ve been smiling too much at Wade?’
‘Could be.’
Though Liza knew smiling would be the last thing happening when they met next.
Shar was right. She had to talk to him, had to calm this volatile situation before she lost her job.
And maybe lost the guy.
ELEVEN
LIZA LITHGOW’S STYLE TIPS
FOR MAXIMUM WAG WOW IMPACT
The Proposal
WAGs put up with a lot to stand by their man.
So it’s only fitting a WAG deserves a special proposal.
Guys, here are some of the best places in which to propose to your devoted WAG (and actually put that W—Wife—into WAG!)
Strolling along the Seine in Paris.
Atop the Eiffel Tower.
Cruising the Greek Islands on a private yacht.
Top of the London Eye.
&nbs
p; Sunset on Kuta Beach in Bali.
At the ball drop in Times Square, NYC, on New Year’s Eve.
Winery dinner in the Yarra Valley, Victoria.
Hot-air balloon, anywhere.
Camel ride, United Arab Emirates.
Walking the Great Wall of China.
Outside the Taj Mahal.
Climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Cruising the South Pacific.
Midnight on New Year’s Eve, anywhere.
Central Park, any time.
Spanish Steps, Rome.
Diamond Head, Waikiki.
In a buré over the water, Tahiti or Maldives.
Scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef.
After the blow-up with Liza, Wade headed for the one place he felt safe.
The office.
It had been his refuge for as long as he could remember, whether in Melbourne or London, the one place he was on top and in total control.
Family? As changeable as the wind and, as his relationship with his dad had fractured because of Babs, he’d systematically withdrawn.
Girlfriends? Chosen with deliberation, the kind of corporate women who expected nothing and were content with a brief fling.
The publishing business had been the one constant in his life, the one thing he could depend on.
And now, courtesy of Liza’s lies, he could lose that too.
It had taken a full hour of checking with his legal team and exploring all possible scenarios for him to calm down.
Even if Liza’s bio weren’t one-hundred-per-cent accurate, according to the contract wording the readers would have no recourse if the truth of Cindy’s existence came out.
He’d assumed it wouldn’t be a problem but needed to know for sure. After all, how many celebrities invented backgrounds and touted it as truth?
In the heat of the moment, when he’d realised she’d kept something as important as her sister from him, he’d snapped and said he could lose everything.
He’d thrown it out there to shame her; to intimidate her into maybe telling him the truth—why she’d done it—when in fact the eight hundred grand from his own pocket wouldn’t make or break him.
Now that he’d calmed down enough to rationally evaluate the situation, he might not have lost his dad’s company but he had lost something equally important.
The woman he loved.
How ironic that the first time he let a woman get closer than dinner and a date, the first time he’d learned what it meant to truly desire someone beyond the physical, had turned into the last time he’d ever be so foolish again.
And a scarier thought: was he like his dad after all? Had Liza played him as Babs had played his dad?
He wouldn’t have thought so, the times they’d been intimate so revealing, so soul-reaching, he could’ve sworn she’d been on the same wavelength.
But she’d sought him out at the very beginning. She’d blackmailed her way into a job. Had that been her end game from the start?
Was their relationship a way of keeping him onside while she milked the situation for all it was worth?
Wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it before. According to her bio—if any of it was true—she’d been thrust into WAG limelight by default when her high-school sweetheart became pro, but with the basketball star she’d implied they’d had an understanding based on a solid friendship and mutual regard.
Yet when he’d studied the pictures of her and Henri Jaillet her body language spoke volumes. If the cameras were trained on her Liza stood tall and smiled, while subtly leaning away from Henri’s arm draped across her shoulders or waist.
In the candid shots, she stood behind Henri, arms folded, shoulders slumped, lips compressed.
By those shots, she hadn’t enjoyed a moment of their relationship yet she’d done it regardless, enduring it for a year.
What had she told him at the start? What you see isn’t always what you get.
If so, why? Had it been to support her sister? Had she deliberately thrust herself into the limelight? Had it been for the adulation or was there more behind it?
That was what killed him the most, the fact he’d felt closer to her reading the bio, as if she’d let him into her life a little, when in fact she hadn’t let him in at all.
He swirled the Scotch he nursed before downing the amber spirit in two gulps. The burn in his gullet didn’t ease the burn in his heart and the warmth as it hit his stomach didn’t spread to the rest of him.
He’d been icy cold since he’d left Liza’s, unable to equate the woman he’d fallen in love with to the woman who’d hide her disabled sister out of shame.
His door creaked open and he frowned, ready to blast anyone who dared enter. Damn publishing business, one of the few work environments where it wasn’t unusual to find employees chained to their desk to meet deadlines at all hours.
‘Go away,’ he barked out, slamming the glass on the side table when the door swung open all the way. ‘I said—’
‘I heard what you said.’ Liza stood in the doorway, framed by the backlight, looking like a person who’d been through the ringer. He knew the feeling. ‘But I’m not going anywhere.’
He swiped a hand over his face. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
She ignored his semi-growl, entered the office and closed the door.
He watched her walk across the office, soft grey yoga pants clinging to her legs, outlining their shape, and desire mingled with his anger.
She sat next to him on the leather sofa, too close for comfort, not close enough considering he preferred her on his lap.
Her fingers plucked at the string of her red hoodie, twisting it around and around until he couldn’t stand it any more. He reached out and stilled her hand, watching her eyes widen at the contact before she clasped her hands in her lap.
Great. Looked as if his touch had become as repugnant as him.
‘We need to get a few things straight,’ she said, shoulders squared in defiance. ‘Firstly, Cindy is the most important person in my life and I’d never be ashamed of her.’
He waited and she glared at him, daring him to disagree.
‘Secondly, I’ve spent most of my life protecting her and that’s what my omission was about. Ensuring she wouldn’t cop the same crap I have all these years, which may have a detrimental effect on her condition physically.’
‘How?’
‘Extreme emotions or mood swings can increase the spasticity in her muscles, which in turn can lead to long-term complications. Serious complications that could lead to permanent deformities.’
A tiny sliver of understanding lodged in his hardened heart, cracking it open a fraction, letting admiration creep in. And regret, that he’d unfairly accused her of something so heinous as being ashamed of her sister when in fact she was protecting her.
‘And thirdly, the rest of my life laid out in the bio? True. Not fabricated. Elaborated? Yeah.’ Her fingers twitched, before she unlinked her hands and waved one between them. ‘But you and I? All real. Every moment, and I’d hate for you to think otherwise.’
Admiration gave way to hope and went a long way to soothing the intense hurt that had rendered him useless until she’d strutted through his door.
But he wouldn’t give in that easily. It might have taken a lot of guts to confront him now, so soon after their blow-up, but he couldn’t forget the fact she’d shut him out when he’d let her in.
‘Prove it.’
A tiny frown crinkled her brow. ‘How?’
‘Let me into your life.’
The frown intensified. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I think you do.’ He shuffled closer to her on the couch, buoyed when she didn’t move away. ‘I want to see the real yo
u. Not the persona you’ve donned for years to fool the masses. Not the woman you’ve pretended to be from the beginning of our relationship. The real you.’
Liza stared at Wade as if he’d proposed she scale the Eureka Tower naked.
The real her? No one saw the real her, not even Cindy, who she pretended to be upbeat for constantly. The way she saw it, her sister had a tough enough life, why make it harder by revealing when her own life wasn’t a bed of roses?
Liza had always done it, assumed a happy face even if she’d felt like curling up in bed with a romance novel and a pack of Tim Tams.
So what Wade was asking? Too much.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t—’
‘Yeah, you can.’
Before she could move he grasped her hand and placed it over his heart. ‘I’m willing to take a chance on us. Without the pretence. Without the baggage of the past. Just you and me. What do you say?’
Liza wanted to run and hide, wanted to fake a smile and respond with a practised retort designed to hide her real feelings.
But looking into Wade’s guileless dark eyes, feeling his heart thump steadily, she knew she’d reached a turning point in her life.
She had two options.
Revert to type and continue living a sham.
Or take a giant leap of faith and risk her heart.
‘An answer some time this century would be nice,’ he said, pressing her hand harder to his heart.
‘I’m taking Cindy to Luna Park tomorrow,’ she blurted. ‘Come with us.’
She waited, holding her breath until her chest ached.
She’d never invited anyone along to her days out with Cindy. It was their special time. To consider letting Wade accompany them, to see what the reality of being a full-time carer involved? Huge step. He’d wanted to see the real her and she’d thrown down the gauntlet.
His mouth eased into a smile and the air whooshed out of her lungs. ‘Sounds good. What time?’
‘Nine. We’ll pick you up.’
