She would not do it to herself again. She would not expose herself to the agony of sharing the man she loved with any other woman, day after day, ever again.
No. Now, more than ever, after this brilliant weekend together, she needed to keep her distance, retain her independence, keep hold of her own dreams and make them happen.
As gorgeous as James Huntley might be, in bed and out of it, he wasn’t the main game for her at the moment. Unless he was totally committed to her and her future, as well as his own, he was simply a distraction.
The last thing she wanted was to get all starry eyed and helpless. She’d been there before. Knew it wouldn’t do either of them any good.
No. She had her own business to build, with her own talent, energy and ideas.
Besides. If she thought about it, and she did, she was the one who’d been making all the moves? She’d kissed him in the gutter that day she’d twisted her ankle, and again at the edge of the water at their picnic. And last night, beside the fire. He’d been keen, but she’d been keener. Dangerous ground, alright. What if he was only going along with her because he wanted her ideas for his business? Flattering her to get what he wanted.
No. If Stella just ended up adoring James while she worked for him, she might as well have stayed at her old job in Perth.
Chapter 23
James, too, was subdued. He couldn’t work Stella out. As they left the windy country roads and slipped onto the highway, he went over it all again. She’d wanted him alright.
Yes. But now? She was keeping her distance. Silent.
Maybe she’s dwelling on the Huntley business challenges, he thought. Regret settled on him as he overtook a couple of caravans, a large removalist van, and a refrigerated semi trailer. Why did he tell her those things about his business being on the brink of bankruptcy? Why did he share so much with her!
Well. Too late now to take back those words. He had work to do.
He needed to rein in Will’s spending for starters, and his mother’s. And he needed to work out how to pitch some of Stella’s ideas to Nicole and Jim. Show her he was an action man who could bring her ideas to fruition.
This run into the country had been a delightful interlude. The best. But real life approached and it demanded his attention. He now had something to prove to her - a business to get under control, and a host of initiatives to inject new life into Huntleys under his watch. Just let Stella Rhys see what he could do.
His mind was so full of the next steps he barely spoke on the way home, just as Stella seemed deep in her own thoughts.
She broke their silence as they purred into the outskirts of Sydney.
“Design comps?”
“JNA’s been a big one. International. All they need is a drawing on a normal sheet of paper. Scale is always 1:1. Any of your drawings would be up to scratch. Google it. There’ll be several themes. Sometimes a particular element will be specified, other times it’s quite open. Usually kicks off in June. Great publicity, if you make the finals. Better still if you win. You can also find a host of comps listed on GIA, Gem Institute of America. Some are limited to people living in certain countries but it’s worth a look. If you’re too busy creating and selling, maybe Jeannie could have a hunt and find something suitable for you.”
“And you think I’d have a chance?”
“Absolutely, Stella. You have real talent. Even Jim thinks so, and he’s a hard man to please. He’s seen a lot of jewelry in his time. Seen fashions come and go. He tells us about them sometimes, and about some of the classics. He thinks you have a rare talent.”
As they pulled in to Jeannie and Matt’s drive, James leapt out. He ran around to open Stella’s door and walk her to the front door. Warmth hummed between them. James touched her shoulder and she flushed. She remembers, too. More than anything, he wanted to draw her into his arms, taste those lips again, feel her small body against his own, but something about her told him she wanted to keep her distance. Alright then. The last thing he wanted to do was push her away with his eagerness. But it was a hard ask. Maybe too hard. Why should he play it cool when his whole heart and mind and body were telling him otherwise?
“Stella,” his voice was rough. He couldn’t help it. This hurt. “Why won’t you even look at me? What’s wrong?”
“We’ve both got work to do, James. It’s been the loveliest weekend, but the holiday’s over now.”
“For good? Just like that? After all we’ve ...”
“For now. I need some space, James. I came out east to achieve a life for myself. Let me be.”
“Let you be.” He let out his breath between tight lips, looked away, then back, into her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re shutting me out like this. There is such a thing in life as enjoying business and pleasure.”
“I need to prove myself, James. I just need to do this. I need to make Stellar fly, just like you need to save Huntleys. You’re too much of a distraction for me, James.”
He held her with his gaze, hands awkwardly at his sides. Was she really pushing him away? Completely?
“So I’m just meant to disappear. Pretend you don’t exist. Pretend I’m not attracted to you. Pretend you’re not the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Pretend...”
“Stop it. If you respect me you’ll listen to me. I like you, James. I like you too much. Way too much. But I have to focus on my business right now, see what I can achieve professionally. I’ve wasted a lot of years, James.”
“So I’m a waste of time.”
“Not at all. Just give me a few months. My licence runs till April.”
“And then?”
“I’ll see what I’ve been able to achieve.”
“And you expect me to wait around for you.”
“I haven’t said that.”
“You do, though. You know how good we are together. How good we can be. But why can’t we have it all? Have our businesses and each other? Help each other. I can show you so much, introduce you to suppliers, people who can do the stringing and the finishing, free you up so all you have to do is keep drawing, keep dreaming, keep creating. We could go toe Antwerp together. The diamonds there. I’d love to see what you could design with those materials!”
“I’d like that, James. Truly I would. But don’t you think we’d be even better together if our businesses were strong, and they’re not yet, are they? There’s no one else for me, James. Only you, and Stellar.”
“Well, I guess I might talk to you in May, then,” he snapped, mystified. Hurt. “You think you can just dismiss me. I’m not sure I want to take that.”
He turned to go.
“Wait!”
“‘Wait?’ ‘Don’t wait?’ Are you sure you know what you want, Stella Rhys? I know what I want, and I’ve told you so. I want you to join our business. I don’t make such offers lightly.”
“I know that. And I thank you. But I have competitions to enter, and Christmas is coming. I’ll be working harder than ever.”
“So will I.” He gazed at her again. It was all he could do not to cup her cheek and chin in his hand and draw up those lips to his, and he did, slowly, just brushing his against hers as if to farewell something he could not have, as if he knew it made her crazy for more. Of him.
“Alright then.” And he turned away from her, strode back to the car, started the engine, backed out and drove away without giving her another glance. He wouldn’t let her see how much she’d hurt his pride. If his business had been booming, would she be sending him away like this?
...
Inside, Stella leaned against the door and closed her eyes, her body raw with need for him. Maybe she’d blown it. Lost him. Pushed him away for ever.
She’d thought of inviting him in, but knew Jeannie would be busy trying to bathe the girls and settle them into bed.
Her skin tingled as James handed over her things, but she’d stepped back, away from him, away from the vortex. James Huntley was dangerous. She could lose herself forever in those blue eyes.
Maybe it’s for the best. Being with James felt so right it scared her. Surely something so good couldn’t be trusted. Was it the Flame in her? Would she become like her mother, never settling for one partner, always on the move? She shuddered and pushed away the possibility.
She studied her phone, then wished she hadn’t.
Damian had left a message.
Coming to Sydney soon. We’ll meet up.
Chapter 24
How could Stella ignore James completely? There he was, at least twice a day, entering and leaving Huntleys. But now, to her sorrow and regret, he no longer looked her way, nor stopped to chat, nor even slowed down.
Despite her request that he keep his distance, it surprised her how much she missed him; how lonely his indifference made her feel.
Yes, there was still the usual passing parade of shoppers and browsers, some of them regulars now, and the easy camaraderie between the stall holders, but there was no one who took as great an interest in her work as James had done.
At first, Stella had been irritated by James’s comments - about her pricing, his suggestions about what item might complement another, how she could source better quality wholesale items from here or there, or higher quality fastenings. She’d always taken his words as criticism. Had he been trying to help her?
Her feet hurt. The humid heat of summer was draining her energy, and ignoring James was making her cross. The moment she saw him each morning, her heart would pound, but she was too busy and too proud to put an end to their standoff. Once or twice he tried to engage her in conversation, but he’d been formal with her, the exchanges guarded, clipped. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but how could she focus on making Stellar a success with James in her life, distracting her? She needed her business to fly during this busy Christmas period. She had to pay off her debt.
The summer crowds kept her flat out. The days were long and hot. Over at Huntleys, she could see they were working just as hard. In the evenings when she was locking up, she sometimes looked up. There’d be a light in the corner of the top floor. Someone was up there. Once or twice she thought she saw James’s familiar silhouette, watching her peering up at him.
...
James took the wrought iron spiral staircase to the very top of the building. He climbed slowly, studying the ornate curves, remembering the first few times he was allowed up here by himself, finally judged sensible enough to stay out of danger.
While his parents stayed down on the lower floors with the customers or deep inside the safe or office, this was Jim’s space, the magician’s lair, where solids became molten, glowing like fire and hardening into the unique and beautiful creations people travelled from all over Australia to buy.
Young James was allowed to stand and observe, and never interrupt. To disturb Jim’s focus could be to ruin a piece. To venture too close and try to touch could mean a terrible burn. Maybe a fire in the whole shop.
Even as an adult, James fell under the spell of the space. He arrived at the threshold and stood, hit by the old smell of the flux and the glow of the burner, mesmerized by his grandfather’s eyes, so focused behind the magnifying visor.
He watched Jim extruding gold threads for claws.
It was late. Did his grandfather ever sleep? Since his grandmother died, Jim worked longer and longer hours, completing repairs in the shop all day, and creating jewelry by night.
James was reluctant to interrupt him. With Stella still top of his mind, day and night, he’d far prefer to go find her, give up on their crazy stalemate, take her to a fancy restaurant and wine and dine and worship her. A thousand plans had swirled around his mind, all ending up with them back in bed together, but he had had to dash them all.
She’d told him to keep away. Practically told him to get his act together. Virtually told him to put her ideas into practice. There’d be no prizes for a reckless, restless dash to her bedside. Not yet, anyway.
But how could he make his mark on the business without his family’s consent, without their help? How could he break it to Jim that the processes of a lifetime must change?
No matter. It had to be done, for all their sakes.
It was high time for action, starting with Jim, here in his lair at Huntley’s crown.
James approached Jim at his semicircular workbench.
He leaned against it and remembered how much larger it had all appeared when he’d been a child. From this height, he could observe Jim and the long selection of pliers, tweezers and sanding heads. The ornate old drill set up and the array of burners of different sizes were just as fascinating, but the time was over for watching in silence.
Now, Jim fitted a fresh blade, James reflected on just how many times he must have reached for the jigsaw.
Then, as he’d done when James was older and had proved he could be trusted, Jim moved across slightly, making room beside him for James to sit.
It was a long time since they’d been together like this. James remembered how much he’d loved it, loved being included. Jim would always open up to him as he worked, his voice a running commentary on whatever he’d chosen to share.
Jim handed him a blob of wax as he’d done when he was small, and as James warmed it in the palm of his hand and pressed it with his thumb, Jim kept working.
James’s visits had ebbed and flowed over the decades. This was the first up here in more than a year, the first since he broke up with Helene.
Jim continued his work without speaking at first, pulling the lengthening thread of gold through smaller and smaller holes in the heavy metal block till it was just the size he needed.
Still James was silent, waiting.
“You think life’s always been easy, my boy?” Jim began. “You think Huntleys never had challenges before? You think we never had employees with their fingers in the till, suppliers giving us glass stones when we’d paid for the real things? You think we never paid taxes higher than ever before, taxes we had to pay in advance? You think we always had Sundays off? You think the money just dripped into our bank accounts week after week and we never had to think about it? You think we never found rats in the attic, whiteants in the rafters, rust in the elevator cables? You think we never had that winter when everyone was sick at once and we had to pay them all sick leave, and we were all sick, too, but we had to work, and we did? You think I sit up here, a happy old man, and everything came easy? You think we never had a worry in our heads? You think my wife’s father wanted us to change his emporium into a jewelry shop. You think my Eleanor never had a thought in her own head. You think she just followed along and did whatever I wanted?”
“Sir,” James conceded.
“You think it didn’t rip us apart to see our first son die, and the next one, a little girl. A little girl so perfect? And then we had Jimmy. And he lived. Please God, he lived, that one. You think I sit up here and smile because life’s always been easy, that the business created itself day after day, that Eleanor didn’t want more children, and more of them. You think I didn’t have to watch her, miscarriage after miscarriage, then leave her and go into work here, to keep the business alive. Every day, work to do. Every day, tough decisions to make. Pricing, employees, customer satisfaction, supply, manufacture, pricing, employees, customer satisfaction, supply, manufacture, pricing, employees, customer satisfaction, supply, manufacture... Enough. Couldn’t pick it all up again after Jimmy died, after Eleanor died. Could pick up my tools, but not the whole business.”
“No, sir.”
“Yes, James. You took on this business when you were too young. And our accountant was good. Good accountants. Like gold. But it’s not easy. Never been an easy life. You think I haven’t been watching? You think I don’t notice Will, nowhere to be found, not pulling his weight, not interested at all? You think I don’t see Nic tugging at the mooring, wanting to grow in other directions?”
James squashed the wax flat in the palm of one hand, threw it to the other and began to speak.
“I pro
mised dad I’d look after Will and Nic, Jim.”
“That was a big promise, James, a good promise, a promise well meant. But looking after them doesn’t necessarily mean keeping them in the business.”
Jim turned, pushing up his magnifying visor and stared at James.
“I can’t even contact Will, Jim. He never returns my calls or emails. He still files his expenses to Scottie. They’re from Vegas, casino restaurants, hire cars.... Scottie’s always kept paying them but he says we’re going broke.”
Jim picked up the jigsaw, and cut off a section of gold rod, then selected a pair of needle nose pliers without looking and curved it, folding it into the shape of an oval before speaking again.
“If Huntleys goes broke, you certainly can’t pay him.”
Jim returned to the ring he was making, pedalled on the grinder, then lit up a burner to add one of the claws.
“So you’re saying it’s okay to stop paying him before we go broke? Cut off my own brother?”
“You want the business, you protect the business. Or you can go broke. Or sell it. Float it on the stock exchange. Business is worth something. Huntleys’ name. This building. More than one possibility, my boy.”
“We’ve been living off our assets, Jim. The money from the house is almost gone. You told me you didn’t want to see the spreadsheets any more. You told me you just wanted to make beautiful things, and I reckon you’ve more than earned the chance to do what you want, to not be bothered. But I keep trying to make everyone happy. Not rock the boat. Keep a steady income for everyone, keep everything ticking over, but I wonder why. Will takes, takes and takes. Mother’s away. Always away. She has no interest.”
Jim stopped the grinder, pushed up his magnifying visor again and looked James in the eye.
House of Diamonds Page 19
