“Now you’re just changing the subject, Stella. Or are you actually asking me to back off on James Huntley. I knew you were interested in him. I just knew it.”
Jeannie’s little know-it-all smile was starting to annoy Stella. She sipped her tea.
“Sorry,” Jeannie said. “I shouldn’t have teased you, Stell. I’m just so bloody relieved you weren’t hurt badly. But you do need to rest and recover. Let’s get out of here. I’ll go get the car.”
...
Between stretches of blissful, deep and restful sleep, Stella woke often. While her ankle ached in dull throbs, there was a more insistent sensation, a searing need she couldn’t quell, an aching emptiness within, a need for James, damn him.
It was her body, remembering the bliss of being held, the warm security of it. And that kiss. Like the sweetest syrup, but just a drop. Just a promise of more to come.
She dreamt impossible dreams, waking to chastise herself. She should be thinking of jewelry, not the delectable shape of James Huntley’s jaw and throat, carefully shaven. The man was simply a distraction!
...
When Jeannie brought in a breakfast tray, Stella gave her a grateful smile. She shrank at putting weight on her ankle. Her stall would have to wait.
“Take a few days off, Stell. Let yourself heal. I’ll keep the door closed so you don’t get too disturbed.”
“I love the girls, Jeannie. Keep it open. They can visit me any time.”
Not expecting Stella to still be home, they took their time. While she waited for her little visitors, Stella sighed and flicked through the news on her mobile phone.
That’s when she saw it; a photo and a snippet. Click bait.
“Huntley heart breaker,” the headline shouted. It was the photograph that first caught her eye - of a couple’s picture torn in two, a dark-haired beauty holding a guitar and a tall, confident man, his high forehead and handsome smile so like James’s.
Huntleys House of Diamonds heir Will Huntley has broken up with US singer songwriter Holly Breen who is reportedly at a retreat.
The first known US celebrity to have her heart broken by the handsome Aussie is giving ‘no comment.’
Huntley leaves a string of broken hearts across the globe including Irish actress Maeve Dawson and the daughter of Italian opposition leader Rosa Bianchi, who is reportedly suing her former fiance for breach of promise after he failed to show up at their wedding.
“Great family,” Stella muttered, throwing down her phone in disgust. Forget daydreams and all distractions. What was she thinking! Forget James Huntley. She had plenty on her plate without him. She must heal her ankle and get back to work, to clear her debt, focus on her business and make it a success. But first? Jeannie’s birthday party.
...
“Shhh. It’s mummy’s special day,” said Stella, luring both girls into her room early on Saturday. “Let’s give mummy a sleep in. Bring me every teddy and every book. Let’s read to all the teddys.”
Then she kept the girls busy making cards till almost nine o’clock, bringing Jeannie tea and toast on a tray with the Huntleys bag sitting casually on the side. She let Lucy and Sienna push in ahead of her, waving their cards, and they sang Happy Birthday.
Jeannie made a fuss of the girls, cuddling them up beside her in bed and admiring their drawings and messages, the not tea safely out of reach on the chest of drawers. Her eyes kept returning to the little gold and white bag.
“Stella! That’s not what I think it is, is it?”
“Could be a little something for the best big sister in the world.”
“Stella! Huntleys is over the top. Tell me it’s just the bag.”
“You saying my sister doesn’t deserve quality?”
“Well...”
Stella couldn’t wait any longer. She handed Jeannie the bag, smiling as they girls watched on and Jeannie pulled out the tissue wrapped jewelry box.
“This is heavy, Stella. I’m hating this. I can’t believe this.”
Lucy put her arm through the ribbon bag handles and admired the swinging bag. Sienna tried to eat the discarded tissue paper, which Stella rescued, swinging her youngest niece up in a hug to distract her.
Jeannie looked at the box for ages before opening it.
“I hate to think what this cost you, Stell.”
“Today’s actually about you for once, Jeannie.”
Jeannie’s face broke out in an enormous grin. She leaped out of bed.
“OMG, Stella. Oh. My. God. Gold! This looks real. Will you look at this thing!” Jeannie held the heavy jewel in her palm, turning it as it flashed and sparkled in the morning light. “Did you design this, Stell? It’s a lot like your brooch.”
“That’s what I thought when I saw it, but it’s actually better. Did you see the back? You can wear it as a pendant or a brooch or even a choker. I’m going to modify all my brooches now so they can be adapted, too. Charge a bit more for them.”
“I love it. I absolutely adore this thing. But you’re way too generous, Stell...”
“Don’t you dare talk to me about ‘generous,’ Jeannie, taking me in, working with me. I couldn’t have a better sister if I tried to design one. Oh. And you’re wearing that out to dinner tonight, after your party. You and Matt are going out. On me. And I’m babysitting.”
“But your ankle?”
“That’s the whole point. I’m staying home anyway. We’ll put our feet up, won’t we girls?”
Once she was dressed, Jeannie kept rearranging the jewel ahead of her party, on a chain and off again, on a ribbon at her throat and then pinned to her top. Stella smiled every time she saw Jeannie checking herself out in the mirror. She’d made the right decision. What ever happened, she’d delivered some solid joy alright. She couldn’t be more thrilled.
Matt flew in that morning, coming home via the shops, with ice and cold drinks. By the time the chicken wings were sizzling on the barbeque, the townhouse was full of Jeannie’s friends, Stella tossing salads and adjudicating minor toddler squabbles and generally assisting.
Jeannie’s new jewel was a hot topic.
“This is one of Stella’s designs,” Jeannie said proudly. “She’s actually got some of her work here. In silver.”
“So you’re Stella of Stellar?”
“Did Antoinette really buy your earrings? You wouldn’t have any more of those, would you? I wanted to get some red ones. And some purple ones?”
“Do you take cash?”
“You could do this, you know. Sell this like tupperware, at parties at people’s places.” She could. Anything was possible now she was her own boss.
Wine and bubbly. Cake. Tea. Coffee. Washing up. More bubbly. It was almost seven o’clock before the last toddler was rounded up and all the friends departed.
“Now. Out you go,” said Stella.
“I can’t eat another thing. And your ankle? It must be killing you.”
“I’m okay. I’m sure you two need a romantic wander on the beach together. Why not? We’ve got this. Haven’t we, girls?” Sienna was already almost asleep, and Lucy was still on a sugar high, racing around collecting plastic cups and putting them in the bin. They’d both be out like lights within half an hour, and Stella not far behind them, glad to put both feet up after all that hopping around the house. Today hadn’t been easy, but what a joy!
“Best birthday ever, Stell,” said Jeannie, her face glowing. “Thank you, Matt. Thank you, Stella. Thank you, my babies.”
Chapter 15
A few days later, extricating herself from the Uber with her crutches, Stella felt a rush of pride. Her stall was so tiny, yet somehow defiant. Bright. Brave. She had to succeed. Since leaving Exos nearly four months ago, she’d already achieved so much. She was bringing in good money every week. While she hadn’t made nearly enough to pay off her debt, and the theft had set her back, money was still coming in – through Jeannie’s online sales and directly into her own hands – and, best of all, she was doing what she lov
ed.
And Huntleys – one of the best known jewelers in Sydney - had so much faith in her designs, they were copying them. It was an endorsement, even if she wasn’t too sure of the legalities.
There it was, the Huntleys building, so substantial, so solid. Hope surged that her own business could become so successful. Maybe Stellar, too, could sustain and nurture generations. If the Huntley family has done so well, surely she, too, could power ahead, fueled by her own talent and determination.
Right now, though, she set off gingerly, placing most of her weight on her good foot. Progress was slow. A spark of pain shot up from her bad ankle. Was she really so invincible?
A vivid memory of the accident returned - the blind dash of the child, her need to save him, the scream of the brakes, the child’s soft warmth as she’d pulled him to safety, away from the cold hard metal, just in time, the excruciating pain. The blood streaming from her ankle in the rain...
A shiver of pure fear seized her as she stood, remembering. What if she’d left her run a second too late? What if a car had been going faster, or had skidded on the wet road? How had she not run headlong into it herself?
How had James been there at the kerb so quickly? He must have been coming around the corner as she’d chased the little boy. She remembered now. The umbrella. Had he been bringing her the big umbrella?
Such a close call. She rubbed her hand down her bruised hip, and limped along on the crutches. She would never take her ankles for granted again.
James’s dash to save her returned to her mind again and again. It was plaguing her. Despite his audacity in copying her designs, and despite the gossip piece about James’s playboy brother, she knew she must at least thank James for his kindness. Whatever their business rivalry, he’d done the right thing by her. And if she was honest with herself, there’d been that kiss. A hot kiss. The start of something five star. Something unfinished.
At the very least, she needed to retrieve her cash and stock, and thank him for taking her to emergency. It was only right she should see him, at least briefly, however awkward it might be.
...
The mall hadn’t been the same without Stella busy at her bright stall. More than once, James caught himself lingering at the staff room window, peering down, watching out for Stella’s dark hair and bright eyes. He remembered the first time they’d met. Her spark. Her feisty resistance to being pushed around.
James was accustomed to being in charge. He’d grown up empowered. He knew what authority was, what it was to be a privileged white male. Tall, strong, good-looking and wealthy, all his life he’d been treated with respect. People took him seriously. Once he’d inherited the business, they’d looked up to him even more. Not that things had always gone smoothly for him, not back then and not now. He’d had his share of hurt. Losing his father so young was a blow, Helene had run a mile once she’d worked out Huntleys finances were in trouble, and Will had given him headaches all his life by doing the wrong thing, but for the most part, things had gone his way, fallen into place, run smoothly enough.
Not that PR stunt. While Nicole had been furious and still held a grudge against Stella. James was philosophical. Win some. Lose some.
He smiled, remembering. Stella had put her case clearly. And she’d benefited, that was for sure. But she hadn’t actually done anything wrong. She’d had a right to be there.
He could now admit to himself he enjoyed seeing her every day, stopping for a chat, surprising her with that ice cream. She’d accepted it so warily. As if it had strings attached. Why shouldn’t he give her an ice cream? She’d been out there all day in that searing heat, practically wilting. Anyone would have given her one.
And he genuinely admired her designs. Jim had that kind of talent. He’d probably been born with it, and had honed it every day of his life. That was how he’d been able to pick up on Stella’s design ideas and create those new pieces so quickly. And they were selling well, not just to Stella herself.
She hadn’t seemed entirely pleased to see her design for sale in the display case, he remembered. Imitation was a form of flattery, wasn’t it? Rivalry in the jewelry trade was rife, as in any industry, a fact of life. Her eyes had flashed fire and fury. And then she’d insisted on paying full price. She was determined, alright. Formidable. Admirable.
Yes. He’d been surprised how much he’d missed her presence. Every day.
It still horrified him to think how close he’d come to losing her, how he’d brought her the big umbrella, only to see her almost run over. Thank God he’d snatched her away just in time.
She’d shown such courage. Small but strong. Except she wasn’t. She was soft, too. When they’d been down there in the gutter, when ...
He’d just been glad her takings and stock were well protected in Huntleys safe. It was the right thing to do. In fact, he’d shifted them up to the smaller safe in his office.
So when he’d happened to be at the staff room window again, finishing a coffee, and he’d chanced to see her struggling out of the Uber on crutches, he was down those stairs and out in the mall in a heartbeat, ready to assist.
...
The protective aura of James enveloped her again, impossible to ignore. She wanted to stop right there and turn to him, to feel the warm, reassuring strength of him, and just be held, to let the horror of the accident begin to seep away and escape her body for good.
But she just couldn’t do it. Wasn’t being this close to James also a danger? It was every bit as real as falling into the gutter ahead of oncoming traffic. No. She must caution herself, to keep her distance. A man had never been part of Stellar’s new plan.
Her whole aim now was to become totally self-sufficient. She must never allow her future and her happiness to depend on someone else. She knew she could rely on herself. Men were too likely to distract and disappoint her.
She understood now that much of Damian’s power over her was physical. The last thing she needed was another relationship like that. She pulled herself under control, and glanced at James again, guarded, wary.
No. Wildly attractive or not, James Huntley was just a distraction from her long-term goal.
“It’s okay, Stella. Let me help. I won’t bite.”
She stopped in her tracks. If he was trying to put her at ease, he’d used the wrong words.
“You’ve been very kind, James.” Her voice was measured.
“Nonsense. It’s what anyone would do.”
“That’s just not true. But look. I’ve come to retrieve my stock and bag.”
“You saved the little boy’s life.”
They entered the foyer and James summoned the elevator.
“Is he okay?” If she held her crutch at an angle, she could keep her distance. His proximity was intoxicating. Essence of James. Danger zone.
“He’s fine. You blocked his fall with your own body. It was very brave of you. You have many talents, Stella Rhys.”
If she leaned against her side of the slow old elevator and studied the floor, she could avoid seeing him in all those mirrors, could hide from his compliment.
James was quiet. Respectful.
“Speak for yourself,” she said, meeting his eyes despite herself, heart flipping again.
She had to glance away. Too high a voltage. She must retrieve her things, thank him, and that would be that. Anything else was simply not part of the plan.
In the VIP room, James offered to rest her crutches against the wall as she settled on the ornate deep blue velvet couch. He asked her to wait a few moments.
When he re-entered, he was carrying her heavy bags.
“Business is good, I see.”
“Look, I need to thank you, for taking me to the hospital, for keeping my things safe.”
“Please. It’s nothing. Don’t forget you’re one of our customers, apart from everything else. We look after our customers.”
“James ...”
“Alright. Repay me by having dinner with me,” he said, pleased
with himself. “We might even enjoy ourselves. We can talk about trends in jewelry design. Or maybe something completely different. Are you a cat person or a dog person? That sort of thing.”
“That’s a very kind offer, but it’s me who should be offering you dinner, James.” What was she doing? She’d told herself she wouldn’t fall for him. She had a business to run, and more than a week of trade to make up for, and her ankle was still throbbing. Imagine the agony at the end of each day.
She was in no position to invite him home, where she could put her foot up in comfort. He’d have to share dinner with Jeannie, the babies, the bottles and probably Matt. Too late.
“I accept,” he said, his smile so joyous she couldn’t help but return it.
“But can it wait? Till, say, Friday? I need to rest and recover a little. It’s only sensible.” She was gabbling. It was the only way she could create some distance between them again.
She was back peddling. She simply couldn’t fall into the same trap she’d made for herself with Damian, completely relinquishing her own plans and dreams to become the robot lover. What did she actually know of James, except that he kept company with movie stars and was in some kind of relationship with Nicole the PR person. And he’d laid his charm pretty thick on Jeannie. And he had a playboy brother. Danger.
Yet, there was that bounce in his movements again as he offered her his hand to help her stand up from the couch. There was an invisible hum between them, that lovely temperature of his skin against hers. She winced as she put her weight on her ankle and he stepped closer to help support her, placing his arm around her waist. It felt right there. Too right.
“Lean on me.” His voice was deep, kind and reassuring, with no shortage of the masculine charm and strength she so missed in her life. “Just let me help you.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she said, turning away from those eyes so full of concern for her, and those lips, way too close to hers. His breath was on her shoulder. How easily she could turn to him again.
She’d almost forgotten that complete feeling of trusting another, that way of moving together so closely. But had Damian ever been this caring?
House of Diamonds Page 13
