Breaking the Bro Code (10 page)

‘Wow.’ Elise grinned and looked up at Col, genuine pride shining from her grey eyes. ‘That’s so wonderful.’

She reached down and squeezed his hand and Col had to force himself not to think about how naked she was under his shirt and her tattered denim shorts. No bra, no underwear. Luckily his shirt was a heavy weave, meant for the frosty air conditioning of an office, and so none of her small, golden breasts showed through. But he knew and that was enough.

Col suddenly felt hot and bothered; he slipped off his linen blazer and slung it over one arm. ‘We should probably get over to the auditorium. I’m the first speaker of the day, so I want to get out of here before the crowds arrive.’

As he took Elise’s hand again, they heard the rush of the crowd; the event was open. Bidding Brody and the others on the Hillam Technologies stand good luck, they exited back through the VIP area and found themselves in the entrance of the convention building.

The crowds were bigger now, the noise louder. Even the reassuring sensation of Elise’s palm on his wasn’t enough to quell the nausea that overtook him with force. He had only half an hour to get to the presenters’ lounge and that meant it was only an hour before he’d be on stage. The very thought of it made the bile rise up in his throat, and he swallowed it back by breathing long and slow.

‘So I’m an old and dear friend, am I?’

Col rolled his eyes. ‘You know I didn’t mean physically old. You women are so sensitive.’

‘Do you do what we did last night with all your
old, dear
friends?’

It was easy to sink back into the memory, images flickering like a reel of photographs before him. Hands, lips, tongues, curves. They were all there, now permanently etched into his memory...which was a good thing considering how their morning had gone back at the hotel room. He’d lose her soon, and memories would be all he’d have.

‘Considering my only other dear, old friends are your brother and my head of PR, the answer to that question would be no.’

‘There’s only three of us?’ She looked up at him, fair brows knitted above two saucer-like grey eyes. Were her eyes bigger today or was it just that he’d seen beneath the surface last night?

‘That’s it, I’m afraid. Quality over quantity.’

She nodded, satisfied. ‘Well, I’m glad to be your dear old friend who sometimes has sex with you.’

‘Sometimes?’

‘Twice,’ she corrected.

‘Exactly. It needs to be more than twice to qualify for “sometimes”.’ Col stopped short of the presenters’ lounge and opened the door for her. ‘Sometimes is at least seven.’

‘Seven?’ She laughed, shaking her head and brushing past him.

‘It could even be as high as ten...or thirteen.’

‘Don’t push your luck.’

The presenters’ lounge was small, more of a holding area than a room. The walls were cream, two couches the colour of milky coffee faced one another and there was a vase of fresh flowers on a glass coffee table. It looked calm, perfectly lacking in personality.

Col pushed his sweat-slicked palms down the front of his jeans. He pulled the note cards from the pocket on the inside of his jacket, which was creased from being folded over one arm.

‘Leave it with me.’ Elise extended her hand and took the jacket from him. ‘It’ll be hot on stage with all those lights—you won’t need a jacket.’

He tapped a maddening beat with one sneaker-clad foot and undid the top button of his shirt. Why had he agreed to do this? Nervous energy raced through him. He should have brought a stress ball, a Rubik’s Cube...anything. He needed to keep his hands busy.

Tap, tap, tap. What if he got out there and no one had turned up for his talk? Worse, what if everyone had? What if he tripped while he was walking onto the stage? What if—?

‘Cut it out.’ Elise’s voice rang sharp and loud in the quiet room.

Col’s head snapped up. She was perched on the arm of the couch in front of him, long legs crossed at the ankles.

‘I can hear your brain from here. Getting wound up is not going to help you.’

‘I don’t know what else to do,’ he snapped. The fear was making him edgy, cranky.

‘Just breathe.’ She stood up and walked over to him, placing a hand on each of his wrists and pulling him down so that they were seated next to one another. ‘Breathe in, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three.’

He followed her, sucking a bigger lungful of air each time until his heartbeat slowed. He felt like a fool, being so worked up over such a small thing. Over something that no one else seemed to take issue with. He’d done so much with his life. He’d travelled the world and made a very successful company. He’d escaped a tyrant of a father and created a life for himself. But he couldn’t even
think
about getting up on stage without having a meltdown. It was stupid, pathetic—

‘I said
stop it
.’ Her hands came up to his face and held him so that he could look nowhere else but her. ‘You know what you’re doing—you have this, Col. Everything will go fine, I promise.’

He didn’t say anything. He had the urge to push her away, to tell her to leave and to lock himself away in the presenters’ room until it was too late for him to go out on stage. But being a coward was not an option, not when he’d promised himself that he would never be a failure like dear, old Dad. No, he had to do this...even if it did feel as if the world were about to swallow him whole.

‘And you know what else?’ she said. ‘I will be there in the front row. So you can look at me and pretend there’s no one else in the room.’

That would be easy enough to do—whenever she was near it felt as if reality itself slipped out of his grasp. She was here for him. He tried to ignore the tiny flare of hope in his chest at the way she looked at him, so open, so encouraging. He knew it couldn’t last; as soon as things got tough she would shut down... She always did.

He sighed, pushing himself up from the couch. The event coordinator had come into the room and was calling him to come through to the auditorium.

Elise leaned in and gave him a kiss, her lips pressed firmly against his. Taken aback, Col watched mutely as she darted out of the room to find her place in the auditorium ahead of his arrival. Col stepped through the door after her, walking slowly, gathering himself.

The conference organiser’s voice boomed through the auditorium speakers. ‘He’s one of the most successful men in technology under thirty. He sold his first computer application design at the age of twenty-two and had made his first billion by twenty-eight. Little is known about him since, like most technologists, he prefers to tinker with his toys instead of talking about himself. But he’s here today in a rare public appearance. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you CEO of Hillam Technologies, Col Hillam.’

As he walked up the steps to the stage area, the lights dazzled him, stealing his focus momentarily. The auditorium was not just full, it was
heaving
. People were standing at the back where there were no seats, and they were still trickling in.

For a moment he was worried the world would go black. The floor seemed to tilt under him as the man who’d introduced him shook his hand. But he saw her, sitting in the front row. She leant forward so that her forearms rested on her knees, her head nodding at him.
You can do it.

TEN

Watching Col up
on stage was surreal, especially knowing how he really felt about being in the spotlight. Despite his fear, he owned the stage as Elise knew he would. He looked like a force to be reckoned with, his deep voice filling the room, commanding attention.

Once he got into his talk his face became animated, his eyes lit up and he talked with all the passion she knew to be in him. He got the crowd to laugh, got them to nod their heads and had them—especially the women—eating out of the palm of his hand.

Pride surged through her as she watched him draw his speech to a close. He stood in the centre of the stage, long legs encased in dark denim, his black shirt showcasing a broad chest and shoulders. His silver ID bracelet glinted as it caught the light. Elise swallowed, her mouth dry.

As he closed off his talk the crowd roared their approval, the applause deafening her. He unclipped the microphone from his shirt collar and shook the hand of the man who’d introduced him earlier. As he started to descend the steps of the stage, a small crowd of people gathered around him. Elise hung back, unsure whether to break through and claim her space next to him. She didn’t really deserve that spot, not after the way she’d treated him this morning.

His eyes flickered to hers and he motioned her over. Relieved not to have to make the decision herself, she went to him.

‘You’ll have to excuse me, folks,’ he said, grabbing her hand as she broke through the crowd, ‘but I’m due on the Hillam Technologies booth now. Thanks for coming to see me.’

‘Just one more question, Mr Hillam.’ A woman with a hard-edged voice thrust a recorder in his direction. ‘Is it true that Hillam is not your real name?’

Elise sucked in a breath. Col paled for a brief moment, the torment he normally kept hidden flashed across his face. But then the mask was on, the charming, gleaming-toothed smile firmly in place and his voice was smooth as honey.

‘Can’t a man have a little mystery about himself?’ He shrugged and gave a little laugh. ‘Truth is I thought it sounded better than my family name. It’s nothing more sinister than a little marketing.’

The reporter didn’t look satisfied with his answer but Col nodded and moved away from the crowd, his hand holding hers in a vice-like grip. Elise could feel the tremor in his arm, the twitching muscles that told her he was doing his best to hold the anger and fear in. She knew better than to believe the face he presented to the world; she knew him...more than anyone.

‘Have they cottoned on?’ she asked as they slipped out of the auditorium and through one of the side entrances.

Outside, sunshine was pouring down. A gentle breeze shook the trees and threw dappled light across the small patch of garden that sat between them and South Wharf boardwalk. People milled about, music wafted over from an open-air bar on the river’s edge, and the
Polly Woodside
sat regally in its permanent home.

‘Ever since I arrived my assistant has been fielding questions from Australian journalists about my origins.’ He sighed, toying with his bracelet. They dropped down onto a wooden bench, and Col raked a hand through his hair. ‘There was only the odd question about life in Australia when I was in the States, but ever since I came home...’

‘You did the right thing by coming home.’

He nodded. ‘I know.’

‘You were amazing out there on that stage.’ She touched a hand to his knee. ‘I’m really proud of you.’

He looked at her, unmoving. He was wound up, shoulders tensed and the muscles in his neck seemed stiff. She could see nothing in his eyes, no flicker of emotion, no truth. Her stomach churned; she’d seen his mask many times over the years but it was never before directed at her. He was always open with her, always.

This is what it must feel like for anyone who tries to care about you.

‘What’s wrong, Col?’

‘I’m fine.’ He shifted so that she had to withdraw her hand. ‘But it’s been a very long week.’

‘Are you looking forward to going home?’

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to this. Wouldn’t it be easier if he left? She could get on with her life, get on with making sure her studio was on track. That was all she wanted...wasn’t it?

‘Yeah, I’ve got so much work on. It’ll be good to go home and get a bit of distance from all this. Hopefully the journos won’t bother me once I’m out of the country again.’

She wanted to ask if he’d miss her when he left, if he missed her last time he left. But the words wouldn’t come; they lodged in her throat and made it hard to breathe. She frowned and watched a boy skateboard past with his dog running next to him. They looked so happy and free.

‘We should probably get inside.’ Col stood. ‘Although you’re relieved of your duties if you want to go home.’

She blinked at him. ‘Relieved of my duties?’

‘Yeah. The speech is done and dusted—that’s what I paid you for.’ He looked past her as he spoke, his words forcing a gulf between them. ‘That’s what I needed.’

Her initial reaction would have been to let him shut her out—after all, it saved her from doing it to him later on. But something deep inside her made her hold her ground. Like a magnetic force it kept her next to him.

‘I’d like to stay,’ she said, not missing his curious glance and almost imperceptible lift of his lips. ‘Missy has taken over all of my classes for the day, so I can help out with your stand if you like?’

‘I’ll give you a crash course in technology.’ He motioned for her to go through the door before him, his hand finding the small of her back as they walked through to the conference’s VIP entrance.

‘Start with a low base,’ she said.

‘There’s this thing called the internet—’

She whacked his arm with the back of her hand and he laughed. The booming sound filled her chest, warmed her cheeks and made her blood pump faster.

‘Not
that
low.’

By the time the conference drew to a close Elise’s feet were throbbing, her face ached from hours of smiling and she felt more gloriously happy and satisfied than she had felt in a long time. Watching Col at work was a magical thing. Talking to the young developers who were interested in his product and his company, he was truly alive. He’d even handed out his business card to a few of the stand-out young techies and told them to call him when they were out of university and looking for work.

Col’s head of PR, Pete, was finishing up at the stand, talking to a few technology bloggers about Hillam Technologies’ up-and-coming products. But as far as the conference was concerned, it was done and dusted.

‘How does it feel to be king of the technology castle?’ She leant back against a wall in the corridor where she and Col had snuck off to for a little privacy.

‘Since the day I moved in with your family I knew I would make it here,’ he said, taking her hand and pulling her to him.

‘Why is that?’

‘Because I was finally surrounded by people who thought I was more than a punching bag.’

Elise bit down on her lip, trying to shield herself from the painful memories. Even all these years later she remembered him, battered and bruised. The boy who wore his armour everywhere...everywhere except when he was with her.

‘Your family saved me, Ellie. I’m king of the castle because of
you
.’

She didn’t know what to say, so instead she threw her arms around his neck and dragged his head down to herself for a deep, searching kiss. Blood rushed in her ears, goosebumps rippled across her body as he drew her closer. Crushing her body to his.

They only broke apart when the sound of cameras clicking pulled their attention away from the kiss. A few kids wearing media passes had their cameras and smartphones aimed at Col and Elise.

‘Come on,’ he growled in her ear. ‘I think it’s time for us to take this somewhere else.’

* * *

Half an hour later they were seated in the hotel bar, drinks in front of them. Col’s head was spinning, and it wasn’t leftovers from confronting his biggest fear. He’d been ready to cut ties with Elise when they were outside the convention centre. After the reporter had asked him about his past he’d wanted to run.

If he was linked to his father’s financial crimes then his company could take a hit. Arthur Hill had been into many illegal things, but fraud was what he was most known for. With social media having the ability to spread news like wildfire, the revelation of his family secrets
and
the lies he’d told in changing his name could mean a massive loss of support for his company. He’d be stressed, working hours on end to save his company from the wasteland of his past. Would Elise stick by him through all that?

To his surprise she’d stayed on through the day of her own accord, even after he’d given her an out. Now he was conflicted—he wanted her with a force that surpassed anything he’d ever felt before. It even surpassed what he’d felt for Elise herself in the past.

However, even if nothing came of the reporter’s question he’d still have to leave in a few days. His father’s funeral was tomorrow and he couldn’t stay longer. And
she
couldn’t leave her mother...even if she did have feelings strong enough to make her so inclined. But that was the problem: he still didn’t know how she felt. Every time he asked she clammed up.

It was hopeless. He should have walked away today; he should have cut the cord when he had the chance... It would have been easier for them both.

‘Don’t look so serious,’ she said. ‘The world isn’t about to end, you know.’

She still wore his shirt, and as she leaned towards him he got a flash of light gold skin. Memory struck him and his eyes dropped to her shorts. He thought about how easy it would be to tuck a finger under the hem of one leg and touch her.
You’re not helping yourself.

‘Hmm, that was a stark change of thought if I ever saw one.’ She laughed. ‘Your face just went from super serious to super turned on.’

‘How can you tell?’ He dragged his eyes away from her legs and up to her sparkling grey eyes.

‘Your eyes get all wide when you’re turned on.’ She grinned slyly. ‘Plus there’s always one sure-fire way to tell.’

Her hand dropped into his lap and gently traced the outline of his burgeoning erection. He stiffened under her touch and had to bite back a groan.

‘Yes, well...’ He sighed as she squeezed him. ‘That is a dead giveaway.’

‘I shouldn’t sleep with you again.’ She raked her eyes up and lingered on the open collar of his shirt for a second.

‘It certainly looks as though you feel that way,’ he said, sarcasm colouring his tone as he looked down at her hand, still in his lap.

She snatched it back, cheeks flushed. ‘I should have learnt my lesson the first time.’

‘And what lesson was that?’ He sipped his drink.

She ran her fingers up and down the stem of her martini glass. ‘That multiple orgasms tend to cloud my judgement.’

Col swallowed. ‘Multiple orgasms are
never
a bad thing.’

‘No, but they do have a way of obscuring the facts.’

‘The facts?’

‘That you and I shouldn’t have got together.’ She licked her lips, that pink tongue once again darting out to betray her.

‘Your lips are saying one thing but I know your tells, Ellie.’

‘You know far less than you think you do.’ She leant forward, her hand at the collar of his shirt. ‘But I know when to call your bluff.’

He breathed in the honeyed scent of her; it was complex and intoxicating. ‘You certainly grew up.’

She threw her head back and laughed, the tinkling sound making his blood fizz. ‘That tends to happen with the passage of time, Col.’

He smiled upon hearing his words on her lips. Col could have any woman he wanted, especially in the States where women were able to smell his wealth a mile off. Initially, he’d indulged himself with a few of the wannabe Silicon Valley wives, but he was now tired of people who were only interested in his money. Over the last twelve months he’d turned in on himself, focusing on work and pulling away from the social scene he’d grown to hate. The incident with Tessa Bates had only exacerbated his need for privacy. There was no way he’d put himself in the firing line of the paparazzi ever again.

Being here reminded him of exactly why he’d shied away from relationships. They were messy and confusing, but the thought of ever sleeping with another woman made him recoil on the inside. Elise Johnson had been his first love and he was quite certain she’d be his last.

If only he could convince her to open up. He had to know how she felt; he couldn’t put himself on the line otherwise.

‘Get that look off your face.’ She smirked, one hand toying with a strand of hair that had come loose.

‘What look?’

‘The look that says you’re plotting something,’ she replied with a knowing smile. ‘Plot on your own time.’

He finished off the last of his Scotch and waved away the bartender who’d offered him a refill. Rolling up the sleeves on his lightweight cotton shirt, he felt as if his skin were burning from the inside out.

‘Still the bossy boots, that’s what I like about you.’ He leant forward and ran his fingertip up the length of her arm, smiling as her skin rippled with goosebumps. Good to see he had the same effect on her as she had on him. ‘You’re not into me for my money.’

She smiled. ‘I’m not into you at all.’

‘What was last night all about, then?’

‘Basic human need,’ she replied, but her voice was high pitched. ‘Nothing more. We’re friends.’

‘Friends who—’

‘Yes.’ She cut him off, squirming in her seat. ‘Not all women want love and marriage and babies, Col.’

‘No, not all women do.’ He watched her closely, watched for the tiny signs he was breaking through to her. ‘But you do.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Okay, so come up to my suite and we’ll order dinner and have sex and you can go on pretending there’s nothing here.’ He would bide his time, then he’d ask her again and if she couldn’t open up then he would call it quits. For good. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m starving and room service does a good steak.’