Autumn strides down the hall to her office. Her telephone is ringing so she runs. “Hello,” she gasps. It is reception.
“Autumn, you have a reporter from the Sunday Mail on the line.”
Her teeth clench. “Bessa, you were told not to allow any calls from the press.”
“I know. I know, but he says you had pre-arranged this call.”
“He is lying. I have not arranged with any press, whatsoever, any kind of meeting or call or anything at all, period. Understand?”
“Yes. I, I see. I’ll tell him? I’ll tell him.”
“Just hang up on him and if he rings again, hang up on him again. Got it?”
“Yes.”
She returns the phone to its receiver and falls into her chair. Choosing the most recent email from Tae she clicks it open.
I still can’t believe you made it into the papers for something so scandalous. This is so exciting!!! You’re like my very own celebrity. I’m assuming all went ok with you and Jet last night, considering you weren’t home when I woke? Email me as soon as you can. T
Autumn writes back and is immediately sent a return email.
I’m coming to meet you for lunch.
Autumn writes back telling her of her lunch plans with Michael.
You’re not getting out of it that easily. Get him to order three serves. Meet you at one.
It takes more nerve to open the next email from Tanya. She hasn’t heard from her since she left. It can’t be good.
Autumn. Didn’t think you’d stoop that low in your efforts to usurp my position while I’m away. Tanya.
“Usurp?” repeats Autumn with a scowl. “Where are we? Seventeenth-century England.” She doesn’t even bother typing a reply, instead forwards the email directly to Jet’s inbox. He can deal with her.
Her computer whooshes. An email from Michael. In the subject line: Um, did you mean to send that email to ‘office all’?????
Autumn’s heart thumps against her ribcage. “Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
No! she types back to Michael.
Didn’t think so.
What should I do?
I think you’ve done just about all you can possibly do.
A long sigh streams from between her lips and she flops back against her chair. “Calm down, Autumn. Don’t catch that wave. Just let it ride on past,” she whispers to herself, rubbing her temples.
“Oh God, I’m going mad. I’m talking to myself.
“Shit, and I just did it again.”
She types. Help!!!! I’m having a meltdown. I’m sitting here talking to myself.
Michael writes back. No that’s insanity. Let me know when it’s serious.
While she is insane, she feels it’s an appropriate time to deal with her mother. She dials her phone number.
“Autumn. What is going on? Is all this business with Blossom and that businessman why you were so drunk? I wake up and I see this picture of you canoodling with your, your boss?”
“Mum. Please. Stop stressing.”
“I’m not stressing. I’m concerned.”
“Well don’t be. It’s fine.”
“This is just not like you. Who is this man, anyway?”
Autumn explains to her mother the entire situation, starting back to Bodh Gaya, where they first met, including the fight, all the way to the Tibetan revelation last night.
Mrs Leone is silent for a long moment before she speaks. “Thank you for filling me in. At least now I understand the situation. I would’ve appreciated not having to read about it in the paper first, though.”
“I had no idea that article was going to be published. But I should have told you about him. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I know now. Best not tell your father about all that other stuff. You know how practical your father is.”
Autumn rolls her eyes. “Yes. I know what he’s like. I’ll think of something normal for Dad. God forbid he ever has to hear about the truth of matters.”
“Don’t get sassy.”
“I’m not. I’m simply saying.”
“Well don’t. I’d like you to bring this Jet man over for dinner on Sunday to meet the family. Do you think you can manage that?”
“Yes. Of course I can manage that. Look, I’ve got work to do. I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Ok love. See you then.”
Autumn ends the call just as another email slides into her inbox. Again from Michael.
Lover boy’s public comment has just hit ninemsn. Oooh & so has yours.
A nervous hysteria overcomes Autumn as she types in the web address and scrolls frantically, searching for the comments. A few clicks down the page and there is a picture of Jet taken from a business awards night followed by a short captioned comment.
“I do not like to comment on my personal life; however, as these circumstances have been brought into the public arena, and reported on incorrectly, I feel a comment is necessary on my behalf.
Miss Banks and I are no longer in a relationship and I am conclusively not the father of her child.
I have successfully put my brief past with Miss Banks behind me and am incredibly happy in my current relationship with an old flame, Miss Leone, whom I adore.”
Autumn takes a deep breath in and releases a loud sigh. A sigh of relief. Next is her comment.
“I have known Jet for many years and we share many philanthropic values. I am happy in our new relationship and excited about our future together. I wish Blossom and her child all the best.”
Short and sweet.
Jet has come through well with the damage control, unlike Autumn who has only managed to throw a tantrum in reception and send a personal email to the entire office.
Feeling more relaxed after reading the comments, Autumn allows herself to become lost in her work until Michael swings the door open, hands filled with bags of food, at exactly one o’clock, Tae marching in behind him.
“Good afternoon,” says Michael plonking the bags on her desk.
“Hi,” says Tae, grinning. “How’s my page five girl doin’?”
Autumn shakes her head; smiles. “Shut the door behind you, will ya?”
“Now, do you want to know the damage to the waist line?” asks Michael. Autumn nods. “Lasagne, herb and butter ciabatta and the pièce de résistance—Tiramisu.”
Tae’s eyes widen. “Are you trying to kill us?”
Michael points to Autumn. “Blame her. She demanded fat and sugar.”
“You did very well,” says Autumn taking the lid off her pasta and scooping out a mouthful with her fork. “Very, very well.”
“So you haven’t told me how it went last night with Jet?” says Tae.
Michael’s eyebrows shoot up at the slightest mention of gossip. “What happened last night?”
“How much do you know? Do you know about the fight?”
Michaels shakes his head. “I know of no such fight. My knowledge ends Friday afternoon when Autumn asked my opinion on the lingerie she bought to wear in Sydney.”
“She bought lingerie? Was it hot?”
“Hello, guys. I’m actually in the room,” says Autumn.
Tae laughs. “Fill Michael in and then catch us both up on the ending.”
Autumn runs through the weekend from the moment she caught the flight to Sydney, Jet’s gorgeous apartment, the brave lingerie strip tease—including every detail of the outfit to the very last detail on Tae’s stubborn demand—the incredible sex, the dinner and then, when the night turned sour, Blossom entering the scene.
“She was butt naked?” gasps Michael.
Autumn nods, cringing at the thought.
“You girls get all the fun. What I’d give to see Blossom Banks naked.”
“She’s four months pregnant and aren’t you gay?” says Tae.
Michael shrugs, then narrows his eyes. “Yeah. That’s doesn’t seem quite right now you’ve said that. Thank you, Tae for ruining that fantasy.”
Autumn tells them ab
out her stay in the hotel, courtesy of a generous American, her drunken Sunday at her parents, then the discussion with Jet at her apartment, minus the important details, ie, Jet’s courageous admission of sterility.
“So how can you be sure he’s not the father?” asks Michael as he bites into a piece of herb bread.
“He, ah, had a DNA test done,” she lies. “Blossom is playing the media now as a personal vendetta.”
“I told you she’s a psycho,” says Tae.
“Yeah, well, now I believe you.”
“So you and Jet are all fine. No more arguing?” asks Tae.
Autumn smiles. “No more arguing. In fact, we’re better than ever.”
“Oh, no,” says Tae, grinning. “I know that look, Autumn Leone. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
She nods her head and giggles. “Well and truly.”
“Now all you need is for all this bullshit to die down so you can get on with enjoying this relationship.”
“Exactly.”
They are partially through dessert when Jet pushes open the door. Michael starts to stand.
“No, please, Michael, stay seated,” Jet says.
“My moral support team,” says Autumn, standing and walking to Jet.
“I can see that. How are you, Tae?”
“Good thanks.”
“How are you?” he says, softly, when Autumn is close.
“I’m ok. Better now.” She threads her arms around his waist and holds him tight to her body. He kisses her head, her temple.
“Good. Come to my office when you’re done. Don’t rush.”
“Do you think that’s a wise idea?”
He disentangles himself from Autumn and heads for the door. “Let them dare say a word,” he says, voice low and harsh.
Autumn nods. “Fine. I’ll see you soon.”
By two o’clock her office is cleared of dishes, only the delicious aromas of a tasty lunch, once had, remain. Tae departs for her office, only a block down the street, and Autumn leaves Michael at his door. When she walks into Jet’s office he is dictating instructions to Scott who is rapidly typing the details into his iPad.
“I want this sorted out in the next half hour, understood?”
Scott nods as he stands. “Will do.” He smiles politely as he walks past Autumn and out the door.
Jet jumps to his feet and meets her in the middle of the floor before she has time to think of taking a seat. He curls his hands around her cheeks and kisses her so gently she can’t stop the accepting sigh that escapes her lips.
“I missed you,” he whispers.
She doesn’t let his kiss end so soon, pressing her lips to his, tasting him for longer than is appropriate inside the office walls, but not long enough for their appetites.
“I missed you, too. I want to wake up with you next to me. Just once.”
“Tomorrow. I promise.”
She grins. “I like the sound of that promise.”
“First things first though, what’s with the email you sent to the entire office?”
She cringes. “It was an accident. It was supposed to go to you only.”
“I assumed that.”
“Can you believe that email? She thinks I’ve been trying to usurp her.”
“Tanya is a worry to me. After her little stunt trying to sabotage my purchase of McCaffey and Co, I planned to fire her as soon as she returned. But, knowing the type of woman she is, she won’t take that sitting down, especially because we have no evidence of what she did, only your account of the facts.”
“Do you think she will use this information about you and me to her advantage?”
Jet nods, frown lines creasing his forehead and chin. “Especially now the entire office knows her point of view, thanks to that email. If I were to fire her when she returns, she can definitely use it against me in a case of unfair dismissal.”
“But that would only be the case if I were the one to replace her as Manager.”
“That was my plan.”
Autumn quickly shakes her head. “No. I can’t, not now the whole office knows I’m sleeping with you.”
Jet laughs. “I’m certain what we have is more than sleeping together.”
“Of course it is, to us. But to the rest of the office, they’ll think I was after the top job. A client today said as such after our meeting.”
“Who?”
“Mr Martin. The whinging, crusty old bastard. I told Bessa to burn his file.”
Jet frowns. “He’d be more trouble than what he’s worth.”
“But do you understand my point about people’s perceptions of us?”
“Let’s not concern ourselves with it today. I’m fed up with thinking about all of this.” Jet steps closer and pulls Autumn into his arms. “I have a proposition for you.”
One eyebrow rises. “Yes?”
“Come away with me for a while?”
“How long’s a while and where is away?”
“Ten days. Leaving tomorrow morning to Mongolia.”
“Mongolia?”
“I’m long overdue to pay a visit to my orphanage there. I really, really need to get away now, but I won’t go if you won’t join me.”
“But what about work?”
“I’ve organised a manager from the Sydney office to fill in. It will be enough time to let the dust settle on this Blossom saga and when we come back it’ll be yesterday’s news.”
“Let me guess. The tickets are already booked.”
Jet grins. “You know me too well.” He kisses her quickly. “So, is that a yes?”
Autumn breathes in deeply. “Yes. But on one condition?”
“Name it.”
“You have to meet my mother and father tonight before we leave. My mum will never forgive me if I fly off to Mongolia right now.”
Jet winces. “Am I ready for the parents?”
Autumn laughs. “If you want me to go with you, you are.”
Jet throws his hands up in resignation. “Fine. I’ll meet your parents.”
Chapter 22
Autumn eyes her mother precariously as she, in turn, watches Jet extend his hand to shake Frank’s hand. Mrs Leone’s eyes are studying his face, his suit, his shoes, hair, the expression on his face. He is very handsome and well groomed, polite, Mrs Leone is thinking. She understands the attraction on that base level. But what type of man leaves his pregnant girlfriend to pursue a relationship with another woman—a younger woman at that—even if that woman is her beautiful daughter? Sure, there is the past Autumn has informed her of, but how much of what this man is feeding her daughter about this prior relationship is the truth?
“Mum, this is Jet,” says Autumn.
Mrs Leone smiles, a strained smile, courteous. “Nice to meet you, Jet,” she says leaning in to kiss his left cheek.
“You too, Mrs Leone.”
“Come on into the kitchen. My son is in there. He’s brought his new girlfriend and her daughter. Must be the night for firsts.”
“Jordy brought Rose?” asks Autumn. She did not give this relationship more than a night, yet here is her brother bringing this woman around to meet the parents.
Mrs Leone nods. “I didn’t realise you knew her already.”
“I don’t know her as such, more of her.”
Her mother cottons on. “I see,” she says.
After the normal introductions they are all mustered out onto the back patio with a glass of red wine each and Rose’s daughter, two-year-old Sienna, a cup of apple juice. Jet handles himself well over the course of the evening, despite being bombarded with questions about his businesses and work ethic from Frank, and his philanthropic interests from Mrs Leone.
Rose isn’t subjected to quite the same vigorous questioning, but then again, none of Jordy’s girlfriends are; they are usually only seen at the dinner table once or twice before they are ancient history. Autumn senses this one is different, though. She watches her brother holding Rose’s hand, kissing her on the ch
eek, filling her glass when empty, helping serve Sienna’s dinner, taking care of every conceivable whim.
After dinner, Jordy and Rose leave early to have a yawning Sienna home in time for bed. Frank takes Jet to see the construction plans for a bridge he is working on, leaving Autumn alone with her mother in the kitchen to tidy up the last of the dishes.
“What do you think?” asks Autumn, loading glasses into the dishwasher.
“He’s a well-mannered, good looking, intelligent man.”
“But?”
Mrs Leone sighs. “But what are you doing with him when he is expecting a baby with that actress?”
“Mum, I told you. It’s not his baby.”
“I don’t believe it. Countless men, across countless centuries have tried to give away their responsibilities with the same story. Why is Jet any different?”
Autumn draws in a deep breath, trying to dissipate her growing anger. She spins to face her mother. “Mum, it’s not his baby because Jet is unable to have children,” she says through gritted teeth.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly as I said. He can’t have children. He’s sterile.”
“What? How?”
“He had leukaemia when he was a kid. The chemo destroyed his sperm production.”
Mrs Leone falls silent for a long while. “He can’t have children,” she says, softly.
Autumn nods.
“But that means, if you’re as serious about him as you say, you’ll never have children.”
“Yes.”
Mrs Leone’s eyes start to gloss. “You’ll never give me a grandchild.”
“Mum,” Autumn says more sympathetically. “I made the choice not have children anyway.”
“You’re twenty-six years old, Autumn,” Mrs Leone says, voice raised. “You don’t know how you’re going to feel next year, or in two years, or when you’re thirty.”
“Mum, I’m sorry. But I’m not having children. There is no way I’m risking giving this insight to any child of mine.”
“You’re life hasn’t been that hard. For God’s sake, Autumn, stop being a bloody drama queen. You don’t know how you are going to ruin your future if you stay with Jet. I promise you, you will want children.”
“I love him. I love him more than anything. More than the prospect of children.”
“You say that now, but you will change your mind. It’s in your biology.”
The Paler Shade Of Autumn Page 19
