by Anne Oliver
He gazed through the windows into the deepening twilight. ‘I was five when Mum left in the middle of the night. I hadn’t started school yet. I had no friends. Can’t blame her, Earl cheated on her as regular as clockwork. She worked late-night shifts cleaning offices, so I saw all sorts come and go at our apartment. One night she just didn’t come home. It was like losing an arm.’ Or a heart.
Emma didn’t speak, but he felt her reaching out to him with streamers of warmth that touched the dark, secret places inside him.
‘It was lonely and isolating—after all, I could hardly ask schoolmates to come over and play. As I grew up I understood what had happened, and I swore I’d never be like him.’ His fists tightened against his thighs. ‘But the one person I’d counted on, the one person I’d loved and trusted, left me there. She didn’t take me with her and it hurt like hell.’
He felt her hands cover his fists and looked into her moisture-sheened eyes.
‘Your mum stayed in a loveless marriage, Emma, but she stayed. Even a mum who gives you grief is better than no mum at all—at least yours had some compassion, some sense of loyalty. But then, that’s my opinion. We’re always going to see it from our own perspective.’
‘How do you know she went to South America?’ she said softly. ‘Did she come back for you?’
‘She sent a postcard once, when I was ten. New continent, new husband, new life. Anyway, after she’d left Earl didn’t see the point in paying rent on two places and we moved in to the back of the club. At least I had a roof over my head and food in my belly.’
‘A child living in the back of a strip club?’ Her eyes changed—ice over fire—and she exhaled sharply. ‘The authorities? Didn’t they ever catch up with Earl?’
He shrugged, remembering times when he’d been ferried to some stranger’s home in the middle of the night. ‘Earl was clever. Always one step ahead. It wasn’t so bad,’ he went on. ‘The girls used to make me breakfast sometimes before they went home. They helped me with my homework. Substitute mums of sorts.’
‘Your young life must have been very confusing. How did you cope with it all?’
He wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. ‘Kept to myself. Studied. Swore one day I’d get out. I was seventeen when I left and found a part-time job and a room to rent.’
‘I’ll never understand a mother leaving her own flesh and blood.’
He remembered the despair and heartbreak he’d seen too often in his mother’s eyes. The guilt that had tormented his youth. The pain of that rejection and abandonment he’d never really got past. ‘Because when she looked at me she saw him.’
‘Ah …’ She shifted closer, the fresh, untainted scent of her skin filling his nostrils. ‘But you’re not him. And she’s missed out on knowing someone amazing.’ She combed her fingers over the back of his hair. ‘You’re kind and generous and thoughtful. You’re also a man of integrity, and don’t let anyone tell you different or make you feel less or they’ll have me to deal with.’
A band tightened around his heart. Even knowing his past, she didn’t judge. ‘Using my inheritance to pay for a safe house is one way of addressing the injustice. My mother didn’t benefit, but others will.’
‘You’re one special guy, you know that?’ Her compassionate blue gaze cleared and brightened, and she touched the side of his face with gentle fingers.
He hauled her against him so he could feel her generous warmth against the cold. ‘I need that shower.’ He needed the water’s cleansing spray and her caring hands to rid himself of unwanted memories. Memories that no longer had a place in his life. He closed his eyes. ‘You want to wash my back?’
‘Does that mean I have to get naked too?’
He drew in a breath and opened his eyes. She was smiling. He touched her hair. ‘Unless you want to drive home dripping wet or wearing my bathrobe.’
‘Yeah, there’s that. Whatever would I do if the car broke down on the way?’
Or you could stay here …
Only he didn’t say it. She might be ready to hear it now, but he didn’t want rejection of any kind tonight. He undid the top button of her blouse. ‘You want to get naked too?’
‘Try stopping me. You know what?’ She pressed her lips to his chest. ‘I even have some spare soap left over in my bag from this afternoon’s meeting.’ She opened her mouth and flicked out her tongue, leaving a damp trail as she worked her way up to his Adam’s apple then his chin. ‘There’s a new fragrance I’m trialling …’ She let her hands wander over his hips, drawing tight little circles through the terry towel with her fingers. ‘Eygptian nights. Musk and sandalwood.’
‘First Tahiti. Now the East. A round-the-world tour, huh?’
She grazed her fingers over his hardening erection. ‘More like a journey of discovery,’ she whispered, drawing the towel away. ‘Just the two of us.’ She reached behind her neck, unfastening her zip and sliding it down so that her dress slipped to the floor. Stepped out of her panties and unsnapped her bra, tossed it away. ‘One back scrub coming up.’
At Emma’s place later that evening, Jake worked with her on a website design for Naturally Emma. They drank instant coffee and ordered business cards and composed her website pages. It helped take their minds off the earlier conversation. There was a new understanding, a comfortable silence between them as they worked.
Emma took shots of her products for Jake to upload to her computer. She was literally bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm. And nerves. ‘Where will I put the extra stock?’
‘You’ll find a place. I have an empty room under the house if you need it.’
‘What if this thing explodes? How will I keep up?’
‘Now, that’s the confidence I like to hear.’ He smiled at her, the computer screen’s glow reflecting the encouragement etched on his expression. ‘You’ll give up your day job and employ someone to help you.’ He stretched his arms over his head, then reached out to take her hand. ‘You’ll be fine. If you need help I’m here.’
She breathed deep. ‘You don’t know how much it means to have you in on this with me, if only to get me started.’
As usual, he shrugged off the praise. ‘No worries. I’ll have the website ready for you to look at tomorrow night.’
When Jake left, she worked on into the wee hours. She made a start on some mini soap samples and selected a collection for display.
The following day Emma took off in her lunchbreak to slip further down the mall and make arrangements with the shop, collected her business cards from the printer, then caught up with Jake in the evening and approved the website.
Naturally Emma. She stared at the screen, biting her lips, hardly able to believe it was really happening. The lavender background with elegant flowing script and artistic design. The photos. The little piece about her background and qualifications that she’d composed.
‘Only two nights to go,’ she said, hugging her arms.
‘I’ll be here to pick you up,’ he said, rising. ‘But I need to get going. I’ve got some of my own work to catch up on.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ve monopolised your time.’
‘Not at all. Glad I could help.’ He pulled her up for a quick kiss. ‘Get some sleep.’
The mall was bustling with late-night shoppers when Emma and Jake carried her boxes in at five-thirty on Friday evening. Lights gleamed on the shiny store windows, the smell of roasting nuts and popcorn mingled with perfumes and hair treatments. Elevator music tinkled in the background, along with the ever-present underlying tide of urban chatter.
Kelsey, the shop’s proprietor, had set up a table for the products just inside the entrance, and was serving a customer as they arrived. She smiled and waved when she saw them.
‘I’ve got a severe case of killer butterflies,’ Emma told Jake as she pulled stock from her box and began arranging it on the table. Her hands weren’t steady, her pulse was galloping, and she really, really wanted something to moisten her dust-dry throat. ‘What if
no one stops by?’
‘Looking at you, why wouldn’t they?’
She glanced at Jake over her box. He was smiling at her, his eyes full of encouragement. He believed in her, she couldn’t let him down. She couldn’t let herself down. ‘I’d rather they look at the products, but thanks.’ She swallowed. ‘Would you mind getting me a bottle of water? I forgot mine.’
‘Sure.’ He put down the box he’d been emptying. ‘Back in a moment.’
Kelsey, with curly red hair and moss-green eyes behind her rimless glasses, stepped up as Jake walked away. ‘Your guy’s a superstar.’
Her guy. Emma started to deny it then stopped. Her heart took a flying leap. Yes, she realised. He was. ‘None of it would’ve happened without his support.’ She drew out a cellophane-wrapped basket full of soaps and held it out. ‘This is for you. You can take them home, give them to friends. Whatever. I hope your new venture’s a success.’
‘Oh, Emma, thank you. It’s beautiful.’ Kelsey admired the basket with a smile, turned it in her hands. ‘I think we’ll both do well. People look for natural products these days. I’ll leave it here for now, so customers can see it. Thanks so much. Oh, I’ve got a customer …’
Jake slowed as he arrived back, then stopped, watching Emma talk to a couple of elderly ladies. The shop’s down-lights glinted on her glossy dark hair. She wore the same white top she’d worn for the hens’ night, with a slim white knee-length skirt. Tasteful, professional. A chunky gold bracelet jangled on one wrist as she gesticulated.
She’d ditched the nerves, obviously, and was deep in animated conversation, smiling, eyes alive with friendly interest. Calm, in control, and the sexiest girl in the mall. In all of Australia. How different was this Emma from the Emma he’d seen wearing that top only two weeks ago?
He felt a twinge around his heart—he seemed to be getting a lot of those lately—and his fingers tightened on the red foil balloon with its twirling ribbons he’d purchased on impulse after remembering her edict about no flowers.
He shook his head. No matter what she said, Emma was a woman made for hearts and flowers and pretty words, and he was discovering, to his surprise, that he wanted very badly to give them to her. Because, unlike with his previous lovers, with Emma they would mean something more than traditional and often empty gestures.
He watched her pack soaps into a bag, pass it to one of the women with a smile as they handed over their cash. They continued down the mall. Then a guy in a snazzy business suit stopped at her table.
Jake watched Emma smile some more. Watched her flick back her hair as she talked. Pretty boy leaned closer, head tilted to one side, listening. Nodding. He picked up a soap flower and held it to his nose.
Jake scowled and wasted no time making his way to her table. ‘Sorry I took so long, honey.’ Slight emphasis on the endearment as he handed her the balloon and her water, then nodded at Mr Businessman. ‘How’s it going, mate?’ He stuck out his hand. ‘Jake Carmody. Emma’s accountant.’
The man shook his hand. ‘Daniel McDougal.’
Beside Jake, Emma made a noise at the back of her throat, setting water and balloon aside. ‘Thanks.’ Then she darted him a disconcerted glance. ‘Jake, Daniel is from Brisbane. He owns a large health food chain and is interested in trialling my products up there.’
‘That sounds great.’ Jake nodded again. ‘I’ll let you two get on with it, then.’ He dropped a firm hand on Emma’s shoulder, let it linger a few seconds longer than necessary. ‘If you need me, my phone’s on. I’ll be back to help you pack up.’
‘My accountant?’ Emma said on the way home.
‘Yeah.’ Why the hell had he got so proprietorial back there? He didn’t do proprietorial. He dismissed the unsettling notion from his mind and concentrated on the traffic. ‘Because I’m coming over on Monday night to look over your financial records,’ he said. If this was going to take off, Emma needed someone she trusted from the get-go to help her manage the financial side.
‘Oh. Okay. Thanks.’ She bopped her little balloon against his arm. ‘And thank you for tonight.’
‘Pleasure.’
He glanced her way. She had a dreamy expression on her face. He looked away quickly. Accountant? Sure. She knew exactly what had gone through his mind.
On Saturday Emma caught up with all the things she hadn’t been doing, such as grocery shopping, washing and cleaning. In the evening Jake took her to a little out-of-the-way café where the pasta was hot and the jazz was cool.
She was thrilled when Jake asked her to share dogwalking duties the following morning. They took Seeker for his walk before Jake went in to the office to catch up on his own neglected work.
Emma spent the afternoon looking forward to seeing him again at dinner while she put together a gourmet beef casserole and whipped up a batch of Jake’s favourite lemon poppyseed cakes.
But how long would this thing with Jake last? How long before he tired of her? The way her father had tired of her mother and taken a mistress. The way Wayne had tired of her and found Rani. A guy like Jake with good-looks and all the charisma in the world could have any woman he wanted.
He’d never mentioned anything lasting. Don’t look too far ahead, he’d told her. Enjoy the ride.
And it was one amazing ride.
She could handle it if—when—it came time to let go. Whatever happened, she’d be fine. Because he’d changed her, made her a confident woman who could meet life head-on. She loved him. But a wise woman knew if her love wasn’t returned there was nowhere for it to go. She hoped she was strong enough now to let him move on. At some point.
She needed to stand on her own two feet with this business. And she could. He’d given her the belief in herself to give it a really good go. After he’d shown her what to do with the accounting side of things she was going to say thank you very much and be her own businesswoman.
When Jake arrived after work on Monday night, Emma was looking more than a little harassed.
At the front door they spent a moment with their lips locked before she broke away with a sigh. ‘This is impossible,’ she said, walking to her work spot at the dining room table. She flicked at an untidy pile of papers, sending a couple sailing to the floor. ‘I can’t do figures. It’s a mess.’
‘First off—calm down.’ He took her hands in his. ‘I’m in business law. That makes me a figures guy. Brew us a coffee while I look over your books.’
She stared up at him, eyes panicked. ‘Books? I don’t have books. I have paper. Piles and piles of paper.’
‘Okay. Why don’t I make us coffee while you gather them together? Then I can take a look. And don’t worry. That’s what I’m here for.’
‘But it’s not your worry. I have to be able to do it on my own …’
She trailed off, but not before he heard the hiccup in her voice. A sombre mood fell over him, a dark cloud on a still darker night. He squeezed her hands that little bit firmer. ‘I’ll be available for however long you need my help.’
She looked away at the clutter on the table. ‘I’m not a complete moron. I should be able to handle it myself.’
‘You’re not and you will,’ he reassured her. ‘I’ll sort it, show you how it all works, then you can take over.’
A few hours later he’d organised her paper filing system into some sort of order. He’d set up an accounting program on her laptop and entered her details. All he had left then was to show her how to manage it.
He’d hardly been aware, but at some point she’d finished packing and stacking and made another coffee. He sipped his, found it stone cold. Stretching out the kinks in his spine and neck, he turned to see her zonked out on the couch, fast asleep, a book on the Pitfalls and Perils of Small Business still open on her stomach.
He didn’t get nearly enough time to watch her in that state, so he took the opportunity while it presented itself. Turning his chair around, he straddled it, resting his forearms along the back.
Her waterfall of gloss
y dark hair tumbled over the side of the couch. Her long, dark eyelashes rested on pale cheeks. Her mouth … a thing of beauty, full and plump and turned up ever so slightly at the corners, as if waiting for one chaste kiss to awaken her …
Her eyes would open and that glorious sapphire gaze would fix on his and he’d kiss her again … not so chaste this time …
His lips tingled with sweet promise. His heart beat faster, re-energising his bloodstream, reawakening sluggish muscles. Desire unfurled deep in his belly. Amazing—this feeling, this need for her, never waned. In fact, it was stronger than ever.
But he touched only her silky hair. She needed her sleep. She looked pale, worn out. He should leave, let her rest. They’d catch up tomorrow. But he couldn’t leave her to finish the night on that spring-worn couch.
Gathering her in his arms, he carried her to bed, laid her down, and for his own peace of mind pulled the quilt right up to her chin.
She stirred and looked up at him through sleepy eyes …
And it was as if he saw all the days and nights in a fantasy-filled future when he’d wake and lose his heart over and over every time he gazed into those captivating blue depths—
When I saw my children in her eyes …
A bowling ball rolled through his chest. His throat tightened as if the air was slowly being squeezed out of him by an iron fist, and for a few crazy seconds he thought he might black out.
But his moment of panic slid away like an outgoing tide over hard-packed sand, replaced by a shiny and unfamiliar warmth which seeped deep into his heart.
Love.
It had to be love. What else could it be? He’d not recognised it before because he’d never experienced it. Never believed in it. Not for him. Love had always been an unknown. His childhood had been one of rejection and indifference. His entire adult existence had revolved around relationships that never lasted. The women in his life had been about fun and good times. He’d never really taken the time to get to know them on a deeper level. Hadn’t wanted to. Maybe he’d been afraid to.
