by AK Leigh
Malcolm’s hurt tone pulled her back to the conversation, ‘I deserve an answer, Lizzie. Were you cheating on me with this guy?’
‘Of course I wasn’t!’
What kind of person did he think she was?
‘So you aren’t seeing this guy then?’
Oh wonderful. This was about to get awkward. She couldn’t lie. The truth would come out, especially now the media had a handle on what was going on.
She inhaled, and braced for the reaction she knew Malcolm would have. ‘Actually … I sort of am.’
‘You just said you didn’t cheat on me with him.’
‘I didn’t. We met after we ended things.’
‘That was only six days ago.’
‘No, Malcolm. I ended it long before that and you know it. You’ve just been refusing to listen.’
It sounded awful when she said it like that. A pang of guilt stabbed her in the chest.
He snarled, ‘Everything they say about you is true. How long did you wait before jumping into the sack with someone new? An hour?’
‘Hey! I understand you’re hurt, but that doesn’t give you the right to be disrespectful. I haven’t judged you on your relationship history, which I might remind you, is not exactly virginal and pure.’
She heard him take a calming breath. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’
‘I didn’t go out looking for Gabe. It just happened, okay? But not until after we broke up.’
She put emphasis on ‘after’.
‘Gabe?’
She pressed her lips together, ‘Yes.’
Silence came.
Then Malcolm muttered, ‘You were the one who ended it, by the way.’
‘Huh?’
‘You said before after “we” ended things. But you were the one who gave up on us, not me.’
‘I’m sorry.’
What else could she say? A long, painful nothingness followed.
Finally, Malcolm asked, ‘Has he been good to you?’
‘So far, yes.’
Although there was this photo business to sort out …
He said nothing, but she could tell he was nodding in approval.
After another long pause, Malcolm said, ‘I miss you, sweetie.’
She cringed at the term. ‘I’m sorry. I have to go.’
‘Okay.’ He sounded like a sad little boy.
Her heart reached out to him. He really did care about her.
She exhaled, ‘Take care, Malcolm. We’ll talk soon.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
She hung up and plonked the phone to the countertop. Then stood rooted to the spot as thoughts swarmed her mind. There was a photo of her and Gabe together. Had he seen it? A shiver of darkness passed through her mind. She wrapped her arms around her as it came out with her next thoughts: had Gabe orchestrated the whole thing? Had he been getting close to her for a story? Was he using this as an opportunity to kickstart his journalism career out here? Wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened to her.
She was stopped from thinking more about it by the sound of her phone ringing again. She glanced down and saw Nina’s name on the screen. No doubt she’d seen the story.
She sighed and answered, ‘Hey.’
‘Well, that answers the question I was going to ask. You saw the report.’
‘No. I heard about it.’
‘Gabe?’
‘No. Malcolm just called … to accuse me of cheating on him with Gabe.’
‘Oh, geez. Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. Though I’m still not really sure what’s going on. There’s a photo, apparently?’
‘There is. It looks very cosy.’
Lizzie caught the hopeful, delighted touch to the comment.
She smiled, ‘It was.’ After a second of hesitation, she added, ‘How did they get a photo?’
‘Oh hey, Carrie’s calling. Can I conference her in?’
Lizzie nodded, ‘Sure.’
The next second, Carrie’s voice came through. ‘What’s going on? Are you all right?’
‘Yeah. I was just asking Nina about the photo. How … who … took it and why?’
‘Well, it looks like it came from inside the classroom. Probably one of the students on their phone. That’s what, thirty or so suspects? As for why? Nina might be better at answering that one.’
Their big sister replied, ‘You already know. The top five motives for any crime are sexual, emotional, financial, criminal involvement, and control/power issues.’
Lizzie snorted, ‘Well, that narrows it down. How do we ever solve anything?’
Her sisters laughed.
Then Nina added, ‘You could do a profile to achieve that if you really want to figure this out?’
‘Now?’
‘Sure. You got something better to do?’
‘I do actually. Gabe will be here in …’ Lizzie checked the time, then continued, ‘Ten minutes.’
‘That gives you ten minutes to work it out.’
‘Ni—’
‘Oh come on. It’ll be fun. Give us something to focus on other than this case.’
Lizzie sighed, ‘Okay. Give me a moment.’
She drew in a breath and picked up her notepad and a black pen from the desk by kitchen. On the first blank page, she wrote:
1: Assimilation
2: Classification
3: Crime Assessment
Then she started her notes like she would for any other criminal profile. Under step 1, she wrote: Crime: taking a secret photo of a well-known person.
Okay, so the debate was still out in Australia as to whether this was technically a crime, but that didn’t matter at this point.
Known crime details: a photo. Taken from inside Gabe’s classroom.
With nothing more she could think to add, she moved onto step 2: Crime style: disorganised.
There was no way the photographer could have planned to take the photo, because she’d only decided to head over to Gabe’s classroom moments earlier … and she’d kept it to herself.
Primary intent: to make money and/or big-note oneself by selling an image of a relatively well-known person to the media.
Those who gave photos to the media were usually motivated by the two things she’d listed rather than anything malicious.
At number 3, she jotted down: Recreation of events: I appeared at the classroom, somebody saw Gabe and me in a compromising-looking situation; they saw an opportunity, pulled out their phone and snapped away. They then sent off the photo to the highest-paying news outlet around. The photographer had to be someone from inside the classroom.
Her younger sister’s voice interrupted, ‘You still there, Lizzie?’
‘Yeah, I’m about to start on the profile stage. Give me two minutes.’
She glanced over everything she’d written. In a class full of hormone-raddled teenagers, with a money/attention-seeking motivation, and an opportunistic crime type, the suspect was likely to be …
She scribbled: Offender: male teenager, a jock type, probably footballer. On a scholarship. Used to Daddy or Mummy’s money, which had dried up just before he went off to university. Hence the need for a scholarship. He saw an easy way to make money and believed he was entitled to it with no concern for anyone else involved. Rich, white, male privilege? Or he was trying to impress his friends. Or a girl. He could say, ‘I have a photo of one of the Farris triplets’ and use it as a conversation starter?
As she well knew, some young men were ‘interested’ in herself and her sisters. She frowned at that then continued: Or perhaps he was rallying for alpha male position against Gabe by discrediting or disempowering him. Maybe both?
To check her latter hypothesis, she asked, ‘Did the reports say anything malicious or incriminating about me or Gabe?’
Carrie answered, ‘No … well, no … the focus was more cheeky—’
‘Wait, what was that?’
‘What?’
‘You
hesitated in that answer. Why?’
Nina cut in, ‘It’s nothing to worry about, Lizzie.’
‘Now I am worried, what did the report say?’ Silence stronger than death resounded over the line. ‘Hello?’
Nina answered, ‘It implied that Gabe is just another notch on your bedpost.’
Lizzie felt her heart clamp tight. ‘Oh.’
The media had been using the same ‘slut-shaming’ stereotype against her for years. Never mind that the ‘facts’ were often wrong.
Carrie said, ‘Ignore it. It’s a stupid double standard anyway. When a man goes through women like they’re cereal, nobody says a bloody thing.’
Lizzie raised an eyebrow, ‘Cereal?’
‘Yeah, what the heck does that mean?’
Lizzie was sure their little sister was grinning when she replied, ‘You know: eat them up quickly and forget about them for the rest of the day. Sometimes you’ll go for another round at midnight, but the minute the box is empty, you get a new one. Cereal.’
Lizzie laughed and shook her head, ‘Oh my God. The men in my life are not cereal.’
Nina snorted, ‘You are so romantic sometimes, little sister.’
Carrie chuckled, ‘Just saying you can do what you like and it’s nobody else’s business. Not even if you have a different cereal every day.’
Nina laughed.
Lizzie groaned, ‘Can we stop talking about cereal now? Gabe will—’ A knock on the door stopped her from finishing the sentence. She adjusted it when she spoke again, ‘He’s here.’
‘Okay, enjoy.’
‘Have fun. And remember, it’s okay to try a new cereal.’
She heard Carrie chuckle as she rolled her eyes and hung up.
She turned toward the front door and called out, ‘Coming.’
She ran a hand down her black V-necked loose-fitting knee-length dress, drew in a calming breath, and forced her doubts away as she made her way to the door.
Her heart leapt to her throat at the sight before her. Gabe in jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt. Smart, casual, damn sexy.
She saw him eye her up and down. Then spied the hard swallow that followed. He liked what he was seeing too.
She grinned at having that effect on him and felt her own tension ease. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’
He stretched something toward her. A single red rose. How had she not noticed it before? Maybe because she’d been too busy checking out the sexy man who held it?
‘This is for you.’
She accepted the flower and lifted it to her nose. As the sweet scent filled her lungs, she realised how long it had been since she’d been given a rose by a man. It had to have been at least five years.
She caught his gaze, ‘Thank you, Gabe. This is really sweet.’
He beamed, ‘I’m glad you like it.’
She stepped aside and gestured with her hand inside the unit, ‘Come in.’
He obeyed. She closed the door behind him.
‘I’m just going to check on dinner and put this in some water. Why don’t you get comfortable?’
‘Thanks.’ She expected him to take a seat on the sofa. Instead, he followed her to the kitchen. He eyed the various pots on the stovetop and asked, ‘You need any help?’
‘Um, sure. Could you give everything a stir, please?’
He smiled, ‘What are we having?’
She stood on her tiptoes to retrieve a vase from a cupboard to the right of the stove. ‘It’s pretty boring actually. Vegetarian spaghetti and green salad.’
‘Sounds delicious.’
She faced him, ‘Oh shoot. I forgot to ask if you eat meat.’
‘I do, but I can eat vegetarian too.’
‘You sure? I can go out and grab a … steak … or something?’
Though she didn’t mean to, she felt her nose wrinkle at the suggestion.
He grinned and waved away the suggestion, ‘This is great.’
She smiled, relieved. ‘Okay, great.’
She went back to her task of retrieving the vase. Her fingers weren’t quite reaching it. She adjusted her position. Still no luck. How the heck had she gotten the blasted thing up there to begin with? As she was about to try for the third time, she felt an unexpected warmth at her side. She turned her face. Gabe was there.
He smiled down at her, ‘Here, allow me.’
She took a step back to give him greater access to the cupboard. A second later, the blue-and-white vase was handed to her. She purposely gripped his hands for a moment longer than would be considered necessary when she took it from him. He flashed her a full smile, clearly noticing what she’d done, then returned to the pots.
As he stirred, she busied herself with the rose.
‘Elizabeth?’
‘Mm.’
‘There’s something we need to talk about, but I’m worried about the way you’ll react to it.’
She drew in a breath and turned. His back was to her. He was pretending to be stirring, but she could tell it was just so he didn’t have to face her.
‘Is this about the photo?’
He dropped the wooden spoon that had been in his hand and spun around. ‘You saw it?’
‘No. I was told about it.’
‘Your sisters called?’
‘Yes. And Malcolm.’
She couldn’t lie about that.
He nodded, then took a step forward. His expression showed concern and a touch of fear as he said, ‘I had nothing to do with it. I swear.’
She smiled, ‘I know, Gabe. It’s okay.’
He raised an eyebrow, ‘How do you know?’
‘I did a profile on it and figured out that it was probably a male in your class.’
‘Really? Anything else?’
She nodded, ‘He’s probably a jock. On a football scholarship. White if I had to guess a race. Probably has parents who used to be wealthy and isn’t used to being told no yet.’
Gabe’s jaw dropped open. ‘Wow. That is brilliant. You are spot on.’
How did he know that?
She asked.
He lowered his gaze, ‘Morris showed me the photo when I got back to class. He is everything you just said.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t know he was going to do this. I thought he was just showing off and being a typical stupid teenager. You know?’
‘Yes, I know.’ She’d nailed down the offender well. Curiosity struck. She had to ask, ‘Did he give you a motive?’
‘No. But the guy has been riding my arse since I started, if that helps?’
She grinned, ‘It does.’
Rallying for alpha male position as she’d suspected. This was the part about criminal profiling that she loved: when she was proven right.
‘I’m guessing from the smile that you’re not mad then?’
She shook her head, ‘I’m not mad.’
‘It didn’t cross your mind at all that I might be involved?’
‘It did.’
‘I wasn’t.’
‘I know, Gabe. We’ve been over that.’ She gave him an extra-convincing smile.
He nodded, ‘Good,’ then returned to the stirring.
She focused back on the rose, took the vase to the dining table, and set it in the middle. Then she thought again. The vase was large and would get in the way of their being able to see each other properly. She moved it to the windowsill beside them. She took a step back to inspect it.
In her ear, she heard, ‘Perfect.’
He slipped his hands down her arms, to her hips, and stepped closer.
She tilted her face to his. The way his eyes seemed to read her, know her, claim her shot straight to her heart.
I want this to work.
The thought made her pause. She wanted to give Gabe a proper chance. She wanted to do things differently. Starting with the speed with which she usually let her relationships go. This time, she would take her time; really get to know him before deepening their connectio
n.
He lifted a hand to her cheek and gave it a gentle, slow caress, ‘You are so beautiful, Elizabeth. I love this dress, by the way. It looks great on you.’
Where had this confident, first-move-making man been this whole time?
She smiled, ‘Thank you.’
‘Can I kiss you?’
‘Of course.’
His lips came to hers. The softness filtered down to her heart, loosening the walls she was so used to putting up. She lifted her arms to his shoulders and stepped closer. His tongue teased its way inside her mouth. The walls seemed to crumble down. She wanted to let him into her heart like she’d let no man before him. He was weaving his way into every cell in her body, making them his. Did he know?
When he pulled away, she smiled, ‘That was nice.’
He wrinkled his nose, but she detected a hint of playfulness behind it as he said, ‘That wasn’t the first time we’ve kissed. The others weren’t so good? Maybe we need more practice.’
He lunged at her, making her squeal. He laughed and gave her a gentle nip at her bottom lip.
She play-smacked him on the arm, ‘They were all good, but that one was … really good.’
How could she explain what had happened when he was kissing her just now?
To her surprise, he nodded, ‘It was.’
Had he felt something different too?
***
It was hard to explain what he’d felt when he’d kissed her. Something between a thunderbolt and an explosion going off in his heart and head at the same time, and shrapnel shooting through his core.
Since he’d first seen her in the café, he’d never felt more out of control. It wasn’t like him. He’d never experienced this with a woman before. What was going on?
Since she’d made the first move and kissed him on their previous date, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind—not that she’d ever really been out of it. His mind had been practically consumed with her over the preceding six months.
This close contact. Actually knowing her and spending time with her. It had made him want to be brave for the first time in four years. To put his heart on the line again. For her.
He claimed her mouth with his once more and let the warmth it stirred in his stomach take over. That wasn’t the only thing that took over. All of a sudden, he was aware that his hands were up on her breasts. The soft moans coming from her throat told him it was okay with Elizabeth to be taking such liberties without asking. Maybe he was getting lucky tonight after all? Thank goodness he’d brought protection.
