Catch of The Day: Destiny Romance (22 page)

‘Right. Where’s your water meter? I’ll go turn it off.’

‘In the front yard. I think.’

‘I’m on it.’

‘I’m still a modern-day feminist, even if I’m no good at plumbing.’

‘Course you are.’

Alex rushed outside. Though the sky shone blue, there were signs of the overnight storm having left its destructive path: tree branches lying broken on the ground, scattered leaves, and overturned bins and pot plants. After locating the meter, Alex headed back indoors to find Winnie wrapped in a fluffy beige towel and perched on the loo, her hair wet. The shower, thankfully, was off.

Pushing open the shower door, he stepped inside, screwed the knob back in and trod out again. The heat and condensation in the room, coupled with Winnie’s near-nakedness, made his mouth dry. He kept his gaze on her face, rather than trailing the length of her. Things felt a little more awkward in the light of day.

‘Uh, should be okay now. I’ll just go turn the meter back on.’

She stood up swiftly, her dark eyes pinned on him, and boldly let her towel slip to the floor. Swallowing, he gave his gaze the okay to wander to where the water trickled between the crevice of her breasts to the soft curve of her hips and the dampness between her legs.

She ducked her head, wet strands falling in her face. ‘Maybe you could even join me afterwards.’

He struggled to clear his throat. ‘I could do that.’

Within minutes, both had forgotten their inhibitions, steaming up the room beyond the usual shower fog. It was as though they wanted to enjoy every last drop of one another while they still could.

When they were sated, Alex towelled off and dressed again, leaving Winnie to properly wash her hair and get ready.

He’d only just reclined in the beanbag when she called out once more. ‘Alex, sorry, I’ve run out of shampoo. I just bought a new bottle. It should be in a shopping bag near my bed. Would you mind grabbing it?’

‘No problem.’ On his feet again, he creaked open the door of her bedroom. The shampoo wasn’t difficult to find at all – it was exactly where she’d said it would be. Just as he was reaching for it, a sheet of folded-up pink cardboard poking out beneath her camp bed caught his eye.

He moved to kick it back, then changed his mind, unable to help himself. He reached down and picked up the cardboard, unfolding it. A handwritten sentence jumped out from the cut-out pictures:
No more losing your heart over emotionally unavailable men – particularly at work.
What was all that about? Grant?
Him?

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the screen. A private number. Straightening, he jabbed the answer button. ‘Hello?’

There was a heartbeat of silence, then a soft hi. His gut jolted. Just one syllable, but he knew that voice. Even coming down the line from thousands of kilometres away. His elder sister, Eleni.

‘How’d you get this number?’ he whispered urgently into the mouthpiece.

‘That doesn’t matter,
adelfáki
. I just wanted to warn you . . .’ A sigh rattled down the line. ‘He knows you’re in Australia. It won’t be long . . . it won’t be long before he tracks you down.’

Alex felt his blood pressure ratchet up a notch. Still, stubbornness overpowered him. ‘Australia’s a big place. Good luck to him.’

‘It doesn’t have to be this way, you know,’ Eleni said quietly, as though they were sitting alongside one another at the dining table, like old times. ‘You could call him, sort things out. Just because you felt betrayed and had your heart broken by that silly girl, it doesn’t mean —’

‘Forget it.’ Alex barked, anger suddenly coursing through his veins. ‘I’m not scared of him – or
her – 
and I’m not coming back.’ With a stab of his thumb, he terminated the call and turned off the phone for good measure.

He’d get a new number next week and tell any locals who needed him – Winnie – that he’d lost his phone. He wasn’t going to be found by those from his past life. Not if he could help it.

The call caused Alex’s momentary haze of madness to lift, just like that. He’d been driven by what was in his pants this weekend, but the behaviour had to stop. For Winnie’s sake.

His secret meant he couldn’t offer her anything more than he already had. Why play a game of charades? He’d discovered she wasn’t the heartless social climber he’d pegged her for; she’d just been led astray on occasion. And he couldn’t keep hurting her. He was just the sort of emotionally unavailable man she should avoid, like that bit of cardboard said, and she deserved better. Far better. He needed to be cruel to be kind. To close up his heart again.

He’d let her down gently, just as soon as he’d figured out how. It was safer that way – for the both of them.

‘Mocktail?’ From Cyndi’s front door Eden extended a tray of pink and blue drinks at Winnie.

‘Oh, uh, thanks.’ Winnie juggled the Huggies jumbo box she was carrying under one arm and helped herself to a cornflower-blue tipple.

Cyndi, lurking behind Eden’s shoulder, mouthed, ‘I had to invite her,’ accompanied by an eye roll – a vaguely affectionate one.

Winnie fought back a grin, edging inside. With Bruna not around, she’d decided to head to Honey’s baby shower, after all. Of course, she could have snuggled up with Alex all day, but she didn’t want to be that type of girl, the type who forgot all else whenever a new guy arrived on the scene. The bow-adorned box of Huggies was a last-minute gift idea.

Eden sashayed away and Winnie moved down the hall, stopped short by Cyndi floating a dirty nappy under her nose. Winnie gripped her glass’s stem tighter so the contents wouldn’t spill out. ‘Is that for real?’

A chuckle escaped Cyndi’s glossy lips. ‘The poo’s not
real
. It’s for a game where you guess which brand of chocolate’s been melted inside.’

‘Yikes.’ Winnie hazarded a guess. ‘Tim Tam?’

Cyndi’s dark-blonde waves whipped her round cheeks as she shook her head. ‘Nope, but good try. Hey, that reminds me – in a weird sort of way! I made you a birthday cake. Chocolate fudge. I thought you’d be busy yesterday, so I was going to drop it off later today.’

‘You made me a
cake
?’ Winnie had to blink back sudden tears. She couldn’t imagine any of her so-called pals in Sydney baking for her, let alone one day throwing her a baby shower.

‘Yeah. That’s what mates are for, right?’ Cyndi said shyly. ‘Besides,’ she gave a small shrug, ‘I’m entering the South-East Field Days bake off, so it was good practice.’

Slightly overwhelmed, Winnie reached forward and gave the beautician a one-armed hug. Cyndi smelled of perfumed, peachy skin and hairspray.

‘Thank you,’ Winnie said, with meaning. Who knew her birthday weekend would be even better than expected, all thanks to the good folk of Kingston?

‘
Ahem
, think you’ve got the guest of honour mixed up there.’ A grinning Honey ambled into view. Winnie and Cyndi pulled apart. ‘And did I hear you mention cake, Cyndi? Hope you didn’t lick the bowl given you’ve just announced your latest thing’s going sugar-free.’

Cyndi poked out her tongue at her.

Stepping forward, Winnie pressed the Huggies box into Honey’s hands. ‘Hey, this is for you.’ She grew serious for a moment. ‘And, I have to say, you might not have pregnancy aqua aerobics and the like around here, but you have great friends – Cyndi particularly.’

‘I know.’ Honey smiled. ‘Wouldn’t want to say it too often though or,’ she winked, ‘some people might get a big head.’

Winnie returned the smile. ‘So how’ve you been feeling?’

‘Good, apart from my hair and skin looking crap, my new duck waddle, the constipation – sorry, ladies, but no one wants to be seen buying “stool softeners” at the chemist – and not being able to do up my own shoes, all’s going well.’

Cyndi shook her head, remarking drolly, ‘And there’s going to be two miniature versions of her out in the world soon.’

Honey hadn’t finished, though. ‘It hit me the other day, too. I’m never going to be able to go nightclubbing again. Can you believe it? Even if the nearest club is in Mount Gambier. Meanwhile, the little bubbacinos are having a disco inside me. It’s like watching something out of
Alien
seeing them move under my skin.’

‘You
can
go nightclubbing,’ Cyndi interjected. ‘You just won’t be deemed a fit mother.’

Winnie giggled. ‘You two make me laugh.’

Seconds later, Eden, who’d apparently taken over hosting duties, swept back into view and rounded the trio into the other room. A bunch of other women were waiting to play a game of pin the umbilical cord on the baby. The pictured bub looked like it was being held in the arms of a naked, pregnant Mariah Carey, with Honey’s head stuck over the top.

‘You forgot to add the blue veins on my tummy and chocolate-bullet nipples,’ Honey chirruped.

While waiting for their turn to have a go, Cyndi nudged Winnie. ‘So what happened with Olive and that optometrist guy?’ she whispered. ‘After our makeover the other day? You never told me.’

‘Yeah, all went well,’ Winnie said in a low voice. ‘In the end. I had to push her to approach him after the seminar. You should have seen how nervous she was asking if he was up for a quick coffee afterwards. She’s normally so ballsy, too.’

Cyndi’s navy-blue eyes widened. ‘And what did he say?’

‘Well, he actually said no at first – quite abruptly – and Olive was devastated. But later he texted to say the only reason was because he had to pick up his son from school. Don’t think he knew how to tell her he was a single dad. Anyway, he and Olive are going on a date this weekend instead.’

Cyndi grinned. ‘Score.’

Winnie sat back in her plastic seat. ‘Tell me about it.’

Seconds passed and Cyndi suddenly dug Winnie in the ribs again. ‘Hey, a little birdie told me you and Alex are having a tawdry affair – for real this time. Someone saw you holding hands in the street.’

Winnie’s insides curdled. She so didn’t want another fiasco with Cyndi to rival the clothes-stealing one. She gulped. ‘Wow, news sure travels fast around here. Um, I’m not sure I’d call it an affair exactly —’

Cyndi put up her hands in the surrender position. ‘Hey, it’s cool with me. I’ve moved on. Catching up with Kirk has kept me
more
than occupied, if you know what I mean.’

Winnie’s shoulders sagged. ‘Good for you. As for Alex and me, we’re just having fun, seeing where things lead.’

A chirp sounded from her handbag just as Eden called Cyndi up to be blindfolded. Discreetly, Winnie fished her phone out and checked the message. It didn’t take long to scan.

U were right in the first place, Win. Ths wkend was a bad idea. We got carried away. It cant b repeated. Sorry.

In the space of a breath, Winnie’s mood changed. Suddenly all she wanted to do was scrub her face free of make-up, lie down somewhere dark, and shut out the world. Be anywhere but where she was. The laughter, smiles and colour were too much to take.

She and Alex had left things open-ended. He hadn’t told her any half-truths, made her any promises. But she’d let her heart run away with itself anyway. It was her own fault, really. Maybe he’d even sensed she was clinging on. And now he was making things perfectly clear.

After they’d been so intimate together. After everything they’d shared.

To add insult to injury, he hadn’t even waited until the end of her birthday weekend to spell things out.

She felt discarded like old bait. Not that she shouldn’t have been used to it. Being abandoned by the men in her life happened time and time again. The life felt sucked out of her.

But leaving when a party was in full swing wasn’t the type of thing good friends did. And Winnie didn’t want to be of Bruna’s ilk – or Alex’s ilk, for that matter. So she squared her shoulders, pasted on a smile, and prepared to stick out the afternoon. There was plenty of time for crying – and kicking herself – later on. Stuffing herself with birthday cake alone that night would be the perfect accompaniment.

Winnie was determined to be professional at the
Beach Life
fashion shoot. Even if Allira Becci was proving to be a royal pain in the butt, despite her pure-as-snow image – Olive had been right. Even if half the clothes Winnie had called in from PRs had accidentally been sent to Kingston-on-Murray and she had to make do with what she had.

Even if she had to be within a hair’s breadth of Alex.

Alex apparently knew Allira from someplace else, not that he’d ever mentioned it. Maybe he moved in better social circles overseas than Winnie thought, though she couldn’t imagine how. Or more likely, he’d photographed the ice-blonde beauty before. Allira even had a pet name for him: Cy or Sigh, or some such.

The idea that the pair might have some
other
kind of history wasn’t worth contemplating. Of course, Winnie didn’t dare ask Alex the actualities – she wanted to keep things strictly work-related. As did Alex, it seemed, which was a relief and disheartening all at the same time.

He hadn’t even mentioned his curt text from Sunday, singling her out only to pass on his new number – purely for work purposes. He had some story about how he’d left his phone in the pocket of his jeans when doing the laundry, killing it.

Well, hopefully she wouldn’t need to store his digits for long. Winnie was still determined to kiss Kingston goodbye sooner rather than later. Her fling with Alex had been a momentary lapse when her confidence was dented, nothing more. And she’d been caught up in the emotion of the moment.

He was up and down like a yoyo – the very last thing she needed. She thought of how she’d acted after her trouble with the shower and cringed. What a floozy. Best not to think about any of that. It was as clear as day she had to stop trying to fill the dad-shaped hole in her heart – her life – with a parade of emotionally stunted men. The mantra on her vision board needed to be kept front and centre of her mind.

Standing out of the line of Alex’s flashing camera, Winnie watched Allira strike another pose amid the dried-up Coorong salt lake. It was amazing the beauty had put her iPhone down long enough to perform. Still, Winnie had to admit Allira looked phenomenal. The latest outfit Winnie had put her in was a space-age dress with sheer mesh side panels, which reached the top of her thighs. It was similar to Gwyneth Paltrow’s controversial frock at the
Iron Man 3
premiere and totally went with the moonscape-like location. Winnie swapped glances with Cyndi, who was waiting on the sidelines, make-up brushes at the ready. Her friend’s expression read the same as hers:
Not long to go now.
Earlier, Cyndi had mentioned Allira had changed somewhat since being a pageant wannabe. She seemed more an Alex fan than a Cyndi fan now.

The shrill voice of Allira’s spiky-heeled publicist, Ivy, hit the back of Winnie’s head. Unfortunately, Ivy’s so-called important call, which had taken her away from the shoot momentarily, hadn’t been long.

‘Now these interview questions.’ Ivy flashed the sheet of white paper in Winnie’s face; coupled with the starkness of the salt lake, it hurt Winnie’s eyes. ‘Allira won’t be answering any she doesn’t feel are relevant to her brand.’

‘Fine,’ Winnie said, the recurring fake smile almost killing her.

‘And we need to make sure her swimwear label gets a mention,’ Ivy carried on, her dark bob swinging. Winnie was beginning to think of the woman as Poison Ivy. Who wore spiked heels to a shoot on a salt lake, for crying out loud? Though, admittedly, it reminded Winnie of navigating a fence at the beef field day, but that felt like a million lifetimes ago. She had to hide a smile.

‘Of course. Plus, we’ll have Allira wear some swimwear pieces beneath a few outfits for further exposure.’

Even though the shoot is for the winter issue, Winnie silently added, and wearing a bikini doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.

‘Perfect. I’ll email back Allira’s answers by the end of the week.’

‘Great.’ Though why the heck Allira couldn’t respond to them herself that day, Winnie had no idea. It was enough she’d had to show Ivy the questions first.

Eyes back on the shoot, Winnie called out in Alex’s general direction, not keen to address him directly. ‘Hold on, I just need to clip the back of Allira’s dress some more, so the fabric doesn’t flap about.’

His camera slid to his side and he muttered a quiet ‘Okay’.

Running forwards, Winnie fished clothing clips out of her pocket. Halting behind Allira, she quickly worked to tighten the model’s frock some more. A quick glance down saw dismay curl through Winnie. The tape had come free on the bottom of one of Allira’s silver platforms, which meant the sole was irrevocably marked, the fashion label wouldn’t be able to on-sell them, and Winnie would have to foot the bill. Bugger. She knew for a fact the platforms didn’t come cheap. Nor did she have much use for size tens. Though it was better than having in her wardrobe the shoes Allira had worn to the shoot – exotic-animal-skin sneaker wedges to rival Beyoncé’s. No wonder Winnie hadn’t taken a liking to the local beauty.

Winnie assessed her handiwork from the front, Allira peering back with doe eyes.

‘You look pale,’ the model said suddenly, seemingly noticing Winnie for the first time.

‘Oh.’ Winnie fluttered a hand to her face. ‘Do I?’ Of course, she wasn’t about to open up about her sleepless nights over Alex with him as an audience. Though it was almost nice of Allira to be half concerned.

The blonde beauty tilted her head to one side, with the practice of someone who knew what their best angles were from endless posing in the mirror. ‘Actually I think yellow just doesn’t suit you.’

‘Right.’ Tugging at her canary-coloured cardigan, Winnie bit back a retort ending with the model’s real name. Giving herself a mental shake, she thought of what a coup it was to get Allira on the cover – personality aside.

Cyndi marched forwards, practically shoving her powder brush in Allira’s gob for a quick touch-up. Nicely, it also served to shut the model up. Winnie sent a mental thumbs-up Cyndi’s way.

A few frames more and Ivy called time. ‘Allira needs lunch,’ the publicist announced dramatically, as though the world might end.

‘Cool,’ Winnie murmured, though the model had been late that morning because she supposedly required breakfast first. Despite the fact she looked decidedly undernourished – and coke-addled.

Winnie trailed behind the others trudging towards the makeshift change/lunch room – really a caravan Cyndi had borrowed from a local. Allira paused at the nearby accessories table laid out for the shoot, her hand snaking towards a pair of black, bug-eyed sunglasses. She put them on, exclaiming, ‘Oh, these are to die for. Can I have them?’

Winnie shook her head, feeling her patience slip through her fingertips. ‘Sorry, no. I have to return them to the fashion house.’

Allira shrugged, reluctantly sliding off the shades and putting them back in place. ‘Bet you’d only have to mention my name to change that.’ Then she skipped forwards, linking her arm with Alex’s.