Nobody Knows (5 page)

Chapter Four

The night before had been a whirlwind. I awoke in a sun-filled bedroom, in the most luxurious sheets my body had ever known. They smelt of jasmine and something else, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I was transported to heaven. Lying there, breathing in the beautiful smells, I heard the shower turn off and realized where I was. This wasn’t some hotel room and room service wasn’t coming. I was in my real estate agent’s house. And someone, I hoped it was him, was about to finish in the shower.

I knew Joel was older than me, and I was just hoping that this immaculate house he had brought me back to didn’t actually belong to someone else, someone with the same last name as him. “Please, don’t live with your parents,” I begged quietly.

Scouring the room desperately for my clothes, but not moving from the bed, I spotted them on the other side of the room. They were neatly folded on a leather chair in the corner, my boots on the floor, standing side by side. Sighing heavily, I heard the sound of the water running in the basin. Suddenly a lack of self-confidence and supreme embarrassment consumed me and I found myself darting across the room and pulling my clothes on as quickly as I could before I was spotted.

As I was pulling on my last boot, Joel strutted back into the bedroom, looking like he had just stepped out of a fashion catalogue. His hair was styled, his face cleanly shaven, and he was dressed impeccably in a charcoal suit and tie. His crisp, clean white shirt was starched within an inch of its life.

“Morning.” He smiled, bending down to kiss my cheek as if it was the most natural thing to do. It was quick, easy, like it was an old habit.

“Hi,” I murmured, trying to be as casual as possible. Even as I mumbled, I could feel my face flush in embarrassment.

Without looking inept or even humiliated on any level, Joel checked that his tie was straight in the mirror hanging above the bed. I stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, not entirely sure what to do or say next. This was completely foreign to me. I had never picked up a stranger and ended up in a weird house, albeit a very nice house, wearing last night’s clothes, about to complete the dreaded walk of shame.

“Would you like some juice? There’s freshly squeezed orange and mango in the fridge,” Joel offered, smiling yet again.

I wanted to curl up and die. Actually, what I really wanted was to rip the suit from his body and fall back between the beautiful sheets and surface a week later. Last night had been lustful, needy, and desperate, and I was curious if round two would be any different.

“Sounds great,” I accepted. I hated orange juice; it gave me an itchy rash all over my body, tiny little pimples that itched and irritated for days. “Mind if I use your bathroom for a minute?”

“No problem. There are fresh towels on the shelf and a spare toothbrush in the second drawer,” Joel offered.

I watched him walk out of the room. There was a confident swagger about him, and the way his hips swiveled side to side made me remember the night before even more vividly. Feeling my temperature sky rocketing, I chastised myself. I needed to behave myself and get out of there as quickly as possible, before I did or said something that would only lead to regret.

The en suite bathroom was more than I could have imagined. It had sparkling clean, white tiles the entire height of the wall, a large square mirror, and thick, luxurious chocolate towels. Nothing out of place. Not even a stray hair on the floor. Splashing some cold water over my inflamed face I forced my breathing back under control, but nothing could control my curiosity.

I started in the second drawer, finding the spare pink toothbrush, still in its wrapper. Secretly I wondered how long it had been there, and how often it got replaced, but I quickly pushed that thought from my mind. The top drawer contained the usual—deodorant, razors, shaving cream, hair gel, and three different aftershaves. I took my time sniffing each of them. With each one, my heart raced a bit faster. They were all alluring. The third drawer had a spare tube of toothpaste, another bottle of shampoo, and some moisturizer. “No wonder you look so good,” I said to myself. It made sense, really. A man who looked as immaculate as Joel did every time I saw him needed something to make him look like that. I was just relieved to know he didn’t roll out of bed each day looking like a model.

The fourth drawer was a mystery. Every guy that I had ever known had only needed one drawer. Joel was more into appearances and I guess part of looking good came from his job, but what could he possibly be stashing in the fourth drawer?

A knock at the door made me almost collapse. I felt like a child being caught searching for Christmas presents a week before Santa came. “Did you find everything you need?” he called out.

Stuffing the toothbrush in my mouth, “Yes, thanks,” I said, garbled, hoping that I had pulled it off. I stood there for a few moments, my heart racing, waiting until I heard his footsteps walk away from the door.

Turning back to the fourth drawer, I pulled it open quickly, knowing my snooping time was quickly running out. Inside was only one box—condoms. Joel had his birth control stashed in the bathroom. No big deal. Everyone had them somewhere in their house.

Quickly rinsing the dry toothbrush, I laid it on the sink next to his. I wandered out into the kitchen only to find Joel gulping down a juice and swallowing a handful of pills.

“Big night?” I laughed, trying to break the eerie silence.

Shaking his head, he replied, “Nah, just some vitamins.”

“What time did you get up? I didn’t hear you.”

“I was up at five. I went for a run, did my work out, and jumped in the shower. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You went for a run?”

“Yeah, but it was only seven kilometers this morning. I was still pretty wiped out. For some reason I didn’t get much sleep last night.” He winked and my stomach lurched.

I didn’t know what to say. He was obviously a fitness freak and I, well, if I even thought about running to the letter box at the top of his driveway I would pass out. “Can I borrow your car keys for a minute?” I asked, desperate to get away from his piercing stare. He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I’m not going to steal it.” I managed to laugh and actually mean it. “I just need to grab my handbag. I left it there last night.”

He tossed me the keys and it took all my concentration to catch them. The last thing I wanted to do was look like a klutz in front of him. I jumped off the bar stool and headed out the door. Out on the drive I was almost blinded by the sun. I had no idea what time it was, but the sun was high in the sky and the throbbing in my head wasn’t helping anything.

I grabbed my bag and headed back inside. As I reached out to hand him back the keys our fingers brushed slightly and I felt the now all too familiar tingling sensation run rampant through my entire body. There was something about this guy that made me want him so badly I could taste him. He was just so damn sexy.

“So, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but I have to get to work…” He trailed off.

“No, oh god, no. Don’t even worry about it. I’ll just call a taxi and get out of here,” I offered, before remembering I didn’t know exactly where I was. “You might just have to give me the exact address…” As I said the words, my heart sank. I had never felt so cheap and so much like a whore in my entire life. Admitting out loud that I had no idea where I was the ultimate degradation.

“It’s fine, Gillian.” When he added my name, I felt slightly better. At least he knew my name. That wasn’t something that cheap street walkers did, give out their real name. “I’ll drive you. Just tell me where you want to go.” He chuckled, grabbing a protein shake from the stainless steel fridge.

I told him to take me back to my car, which was all I could manage. All I wanted to say was “Take me back to bed,” but thankfully I restrained myself. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. In the morning sunlight the front yard was even more beautiful than it had been the night before. Trees had shed their leaves and the whole yard had been turned a mosaic of autumn color, fiery reds, glistening golds, and burnt browns. The leaves cracked and broke apart under my feet, then I melted into the front seat of the car.

Joel joined me only moments later, sliding silently behind the wheel, and reversed hastily down the drive. “I have to ask, is that your place?” I asked nervously, still unsure that I really wanted the answer.

“Why is that?” he avoided.

“Just curious,” I played back, mentally congratulating myself for being so nonchalant.

“Who else’s would it be?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Your parents’? A client’s? Your boss’s?”

“What makes you think it’s not mine?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Okay, it’s immaculate. I mean, the gardens are near perfect, the house doesn’t have a speck of dust anywhere that I could see. It’s stylish without being over the top. It’s simplistic and it looks like something straight from a magazine. Besides, you’re a single, young guy. No single guys I know have a house like that.” I knew I was babbling, “You are single, aren’t you?” I asked, taking another look at his left hand for any sign of a ring.

Laughing, Joel’s face lit up. I could tell he wasn’t laughing at me but rather enjoying the easygoing banter. “Okay, in order. No, the house isn’t my parents’. Nor is it a client’s or my boss’s; I’m not that tacky. I have a gardener who comes once a week to keep my yard looking like that. And the cleaner comes twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays. Her name is Marie. Yes, it looks like something out of a magazine, because it has been in a couple. I spend barely any time at home, so it never really gets the chance to become messy and a typical guy’s house. Satisfied?” he asked with a smirk.

“You missed one thing.”

“What was that?”

“Don’t worry.”

“You can’t just do that. Say I missed something, but not tell me what it was?” Joel teased. He knew exactly which part of the question I was referring to; his eyes were alive and mocking. His avoidance was infuriating.

“Don’t play dumb,” I scolded.

“I have no idea what you mean.” He chuckled, turning into the car park we had left merely hours earlier. Across the road I saw cafés filled with Saturday morning patrons enjoying their scrambled eggs and lattes. In that moment I despised the happy, smug couples, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes while she pretended to pick at her fruit cup and he stuffed down bacon, sausages, and hash browns. It was all so fake, or at least that’s what I hoped.

The sound of Joel’s deep voice broke my fixation and brought me out of my hate-filled gaze. “Which car is it?”

“Just drop me here. I’ll walk. It’s only upstairs.” I smiled, not wanting Joel to see my car. In comparison to his, it was embarrassing and I had already had more than my fair share of humiliation the morning.

“You’re sure? I don’t mind.”

“Yup!” He pulled the car to a stop, and I opened the door. “Thanks for, you know. Dropping me back.” My stomach was full of butterflies the size of albatrosses.

“No trouble. I’ll call you later on about the house.” He smiled. “See you.” He turned into an empty car park and turned around. As he drove back past me, I had my eyes firmly fixated on the ground in front of me. I didn’t want to see the look on his face as I took the inevitable walk of shame back to my car.

“Hey Gillian,” he called out. My eyes shot up towards his voice deceivingly quickly, “So, yeah, I am single.” He grinned that silly, cheeky grin that got me into trouble in the first place. My face flushed, but he never saw it. He was already gone.

Chapter Five

Five days after my walk of shame, I was still furious with Joel. He hadn’t called once. No email, no text message, not even a comment on Facebook when, in a fit of uncontrolled anger, I decided to change my status to ‘
Are all real estate agents assholes?
’ I don’t know if I was angry because he hadn’t called me, or because he’d promised to let me know what was going on with the sale of my parents’ properties and he hadn’t.

When the phone rang I jumped up, suddenly filled with hope, and ran through the apartment like a woman possessed. Swearing and cursing at myself, I struggled to even locate the handset. Spotting it half buried in the clean washing pile, I jumped the sofa and grabbed it. “Hello?” I puffed and panted, as the hope instantly faded and dread filled my body. How embarrassing, to answer the phone sounding like you have just run a marathon.

“Hey Gillian, it’s me, Rhiannon!” she exclaimed cheerily. Instantly I wanted to commit murder. I was annoyed that my hopes had soared so high and it was only Rhiannon, but it wasn’t her fault.

“Oh, hi,” I mumbled, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.

“So tomorrow night we’re heading out on the town and you, missy, are joining us. No excuses!”

Wracking my brain, trying to find an acceptable excuse, I coughed. I knew I didn’t have one, and there was no way Rhiannon would let me out of this. “Cool,” I faked. “Who with? What time? Where we headed?”

“Just the girls this time. You, me, Cora and Heidi. Going to meet at my place about seven, have a few quiet drinks and finish getting ready, and then we’ll head into the city,” she detailed.

“No troubles. Well, I’ll drive and that way we can get there and home.”

“No chance. Alex is going to come over when I call him, pick us all up and drop us in the city. Then when we’re nicely plastered and relaxed, I just have to call and he’ll come and pick us all up and take us home.” As much as it annoyed me, I had to admit, Rhiannon had it all planned out.

“Sounds good. What do I bring?”

“Just your fabulous self and a bottle of champers!” She giggled, making it sound like she had already begun the festivities.

“Easy! I’ll see you tomorrow about seven.”

As the phone disconnected I felt like a complete phony. I had just pretended to be excited and enthusiastic about a night out with the girls, when in reality all I wanted to do was curl up in bed, hide under the covers, and pretend that the past week hadn’t happened.

I had barely left the house since my night with Joel. Even the possibility of running out of food didn’t deter my hibernation. I simply dialed it in. I emailed out job applications and ordered clothes online—anything to avoid seeing people.

Then as I sat there, dreading a night out with my friends, I realized the ugly truth—I had become a hermit, something I considered pathetic. Especially since the reason I had become the shell of a person was because of a one night, alcohol-filled mistake with a gorgeous real estate agent.

With the decision firmly made, I jumped up and almost skipped into the shower. Minutes later, feeling refreshed and revitalized, I was out the door and walking towards the shopping centre. After three hours of intense shopping, which had my credit card steaming and my fingers turning white from shopping bag strangulation, I was on my way home feeling like a different person.

When I got home I managed to refrain from checking my email and Facebook profile. I didn’t want to know. I would wait and see how long it took him to contact me, and whether, when he eventually did, it would be completely work related. Instead, I focused on getting ready for my night of fun and frivolity with the girls, making sure I took the time to promise myself that I wouldn’t do the same stupid thing I had done the week before.

With a big night ahead the next day I ordered in Thai before collapsing into bed with a book. By nine I was fast asleep, the discarded book on my face.

Having a few hours to get ready was just the distraction I needed. I started with a long luxurious bubble bath, ensuring I massaged lavender moisturizer into my freshly shaved legs after I painted my toenails a shade of pink so light you could barely see it at all. I painted my finger nails and straightened my hair. When I checked the clock, I was surprised to see I had only an hour left before I had to head to Rhiannon’s’ place. I took care doing my makeup; I wanted to look stunningly fresh and natural before slipping my new outfit and heels on.

Doing a quick spin in front of the mirror, I was happy with what I saw. Flicking the lights off, I headed out the door determined to have a fabulous night with friends and forget all about Joel Matthews.

The look on Cora’s face as she pulled open the door confirmed my thoughts. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” she gasped, grabbing my wrist and pulling me inside.

“Thanks,” I accepted as gracefully as I could. “You too.”

For the first time since my world had been turned upside down, I felt alive again. I was nineteen and, for the first time in quite a while, I felt it. I didn’t have solicitors asking questions and people offering me things or queries from property managers over what they should do. Instead, I was handed a crystal glass of champagne from my best friend as I settled into the sofa and watched the hypnotic movements of Usher on DVD.

“Ladies!” Rhiannon exclaimed, breezing into the room and twirling, her short mini dress flaring as she fell into the oversized stuffed couch. “Don’t we all look ravishing?” I could instantly tell that the glass of bubbles in Rhiannon’s hand wasn’t her first.

“Who needs more champers?” Heidi asked, joining us in front of the television, a bottle of Omni in either hand.

I found myself captivated by the hip swiveling on the screen. Wearing only a pair of jeans and more diamonds than the local jeweler owned, Usher was drool-worthy.

“Earth to Gillian,” Cora teased, poking me gently in the ribs.

“Sorry, I was off with fairies,” I admitted sheepishly.

“We noticed.” Rhiannon laughed heartily.

I shrugged as Heidi topped up my glass. “I just want to know, where do I get one of those?”

“No idea! I don’t know anyone with a body like that, and if I did I sure as shit wouldn’t take my hands off him.” Rhiannon was well on her way to drunk; she was already beginning to slur her words and talk random nonsense.

Past drinking adventures had prepared all of us. Each of us had our own little idiosyncrasies when we were drunk. Things that normally we wouldn’t do, but once sufficient quantities of alcohol was added, some things couldn’t be stopped. Cora would cry. It didn’t matter if nothing happened at all, at some point, Cora would just break down in tears and cry. Rhiannon would get horny, hitting on any man whose eye she could catch. Even if it was across the bar she would make her move, often to the disgust of the object of her lust’s partner. This usually meant Heidi became agitated and aggressive, swearing and cursing like a sailor, pushing people and even getting in the occasional cat fight.

My biggest vice was my tongue. When loosened due to one too many cocktails, I tended to say what I thought with little or no regard of the rules. If someone asked if their bum looked big in their jeans and they did, but normally the polite thing to do would be to assure them that no, they looked great. That’s when drunken Gillian would tell them with a muffin top like that I wouldn’t be worried about the ass chasing them around. I had a foul mouth and I often ended up calling the next day to apologize.

When the last of the champers was empty, Alex arrived and drove us into town. I don’t really know how he did it with the radio blasting Madonna as loud as it could go and four very tipsy, women singing even louder.

“Behave yourselves!” Alex warned out the window as we quickly joined the end of the queue outside the club.

“Yes dear,” we all called out in unison.

It was freezing. Even through the champagne induced haze I knew it was freezing. My strapless black top wasn’t doing much to keep out the frosty midnight breeze. I was glad I had chosen to wear pants rather than a skirt or a dress like the others. I could see their legs turning blue as they bounced up and down, trying to keep warm as the queue snaked inside.

Luckily it didn’t take us long to get inside. “Ladies,” the bouncer greeted, lifting the velvet rope and stamping our wrists as we passed by. He was a stunning specimen. He had a simple, country bumpkin smile and the biggest biceps I had ever seen, but they looked natural and in proportion with the rest of his body. Not like the dumb, personality deprived, steroid-filled, robot standing opposite him. He handed me a lollipop and I headed up the stairs towards the thumping music.

Upstairs I spotted a booth in the back corner and in our own version of sign language Heidi and I headed straight for it, while Cora and Rhiannon went straight to the bar. Moments later the four of us were sitting around, toasting friendship with shots of Baileys.

“So, Gillian…what happened with that delectable real estate agent you were telling us about last week? Seen any more of him?” Heidi prodded.

“Yeah,” Cora added. “He sounded like fun with a capital ‘F’!”

I told them the truth. They were the only family I had these days so I admitted everything. The immaculate house, the beautiful car, and the walk of shame the next morning.

“Was his body as good as you imagined?” Rhiannon asked straight out. Even sober, she had no discretion or shame. If she wanted to know something, she would just ask. If it hurt your feelings, that was your problem, not hers.

I slid down in my seat. The smile on my face felt so big my lips almost cracked in the corners. “Oh my god!” was all I could say. How do you describe the best male specimen you have ever seen?

For the next couple of minutes we sat around gushing about Joel’s perfect body and his perfect manners. The perfect house and the fact that although it seems I was just another notch in his belt, he was still the perfect gentleman the whole time. I think the word ‘perfect’ was used about a million times in the space of ten minutes.

Then, abruptly, Rhiannon stood up, swayed on her feet, gulped down the last of her vodka raspberry and made a declaration. “Ladies, we aren’t here tonight to discuss Gillian’s previous conquests. We’re here to find the next one!”

Through the infectious cackling, Heidi remembered Alex. Kind, loving Alex, who was planning on getting out of bed in the middle of the night and coming to get us. “Rhiannon, aren’t you otherwise spoken for?”

“Yes, but you aren’t.” She grinned cheekily, grabbing Heidi’s hand and leading her to the centre of the dance floor.

I decided to sit this one out. Instead, I stayed to mind our drinks and our booth. I watched as the others laughed and danced and enjoyed themselves. I was having a great time just watching. When a broad shouldered, blond football type of guy approached and asked if he might buy me a drink, I declined his offer. I wasn’t sure why, but it just didn’t feel right. I felt as though I was cheating. Cheating on something, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

“Did you just send that scrumptious bit of man candy away?” Cora asked, sliding back into the booth, puffing heavily. Nodding, I sipped my vodka slowly. “Man, that real estate agent must have been unbelievable in bed. Or at least I hope he was, ’cause that guy you sent away, he looked like he would know what he was doing. Mind if I go find out?”

Smiling, I sent Cora off after Mr. Football, as he later became known. Moments later I watched them from my booth, gyrating their way around the dance floor. I felt even better. Seeing Cora that happy felt right. Heidi and Rhiannon were at the bar ordering more shots and laughing. Everyone was having an incredible night. Then I saw him.

His perfect hands, resting on her bum. His smiling face, reflected in her eyes. His dark blue jeans and grey button down shirt were the epitome of class and sophistication. His deep, soothing voice, whispering into her ear. His brown hair spiked into the perfect position. Joel was here. All my determination not to think about it or dwell on what might have happened evaporated and was replaced by a cold fury. As the realization sank in that I meant nothing to him, a blind hatred consumed me. I was so preoccupied when Rhiannon and Heidi slipped back into the booth beside me, I didn’t even notice that they had returned.

Heidi must have sensed that something was wrong. “Gillian! Gillian!” she called out, trying to make herself heard over the pumping music.

When Rhiannon touched my arm I jerked around and faced her, realizing for the first time that they had returned. “What’s up?” she asked, reading the strange look that crossed my face.

When I didn’t respond they followed my gaze and spotted the beautiful man nibbling on the blonde’s ear lobe. He planted tiny little kisses up and down the length of the swan-like neck that she arched backwards seductively while giggling.

“You know that guy?”

“Gillian! Do you know him?”

Shaking my head with disgust, I downed both my shot and Heidi’s before taking my eyes off him and facing Rhiannon. “Ladies, meet Joel Matthews.”

Both of their eyes darted around and looked again. They saw him the same way I saw him. And I have to admit it was great in that moment, at the time when I needed someone to understand, someone to know me, someone to be filled with the same rage that I was, Rhiannon and Heidi were.