Nobody Knows (7 page)

“Actually, I just have one more,” I said, using all my restraint to hold my voice steady and not lose my temper. “I’d like the name and contact details of your boss.”

“Excuse me?” I heard him gasp, evidently shocked at such a preposterous question.

“Your boss. Who do you report to? I need their name and contact details. Thank you.”

I heard him muttering under his breath but couldn’t make out the words. “My principal’s name is John McMasters,” he mumbled, I think driven by pure shock more than anything, before regurgitating a mobile number softly in the vain hope that I didn’t catch all the numbers.

“Thank you, Joel. You have been very informative this afternoon. I expect I’ll be hearing from you soon with regards to the unit’s progress,” I declared, clicking off.

Armed with information, I sat for a long while with a smug smile on my face. Round one had definitely gone to me. I wasn’t sure I was going to let Joel’s boss know how he was speaking to clients, but I thought I would give him some time to sweat it out. It wasn’t like I wanted to ruin what was so obviously a successful career, but as someone paying thousands of dollars in commission, I deserved better than to be spoken to like that.

Satisfied with the outcome and slightly chuffed with myself for not being an overly emotional girl but instead restrained and professional, I collapsed onto the lounge. Although it was a Friday night, I had begged off another night of dancing and debauchery with the girls. Instead, I had chosen a DVD, slippers, and a block of chocolate. With no one to impress, I had a long hot shower and pulled on my favorite grey sweat pants with holes in the knees and the hem falling down on one side, and an oversize jumper with a stain from something straight down the middle.

It was barely moments after I had made myself comfortable and settled into the lounge when the doorbell rang. Frustrated, I paused the movie and scrambled to the door.

The sight that met my eyes was one I hadn’t expected. Standing before me, apologetic smile plastered across his perfect face, was Joel. Still in his suit and tie despite the hour and the day, I could still tell he had only just finished work.

“Hi,” I mumbled, still completely shocked and embarrassed. I couldn’t have looked worse if I’d tried to. Yet again he was looking flawless.

“Ummm…h-hi,” he stuttered, running his hand through his hair although there was so much product there it didn’t move at all.

“What are you doing here?”

“I…aahhh…I…came to apologize. I was out of line this afternoon and I’m sorry. Actually, I was out of line all week. I knew you called, my receptionist gave me your messages, and I know that I had promised to call and let you know what was happening, but I didn’t want to have the inevitable complicated conversation about what happened.” Once he managed to start talking it came with a flourish. “Here,” he said, handing me a chilled bottle of white wine. It was a brand I had looked at many times and decided it wasn’t worth wasting that sort of money on.

“Thanks,” I said unenthusiastically. “Look, I know what happened the other night, but I honestly was calling about the unit. You said you would let me know how everything was going and I’ve never done this before, so I need you to tell me what I’m supposed to do. That’s all.”

Gulping, Joel flashed his lopsided grin, which made my heart flutter. “I know. I was just hoping to avoid this conversation. I guess I didn’t really think it through properly,” he admitted. I was secretly amused at his awkwardness.

We just stood there for a long moment looking at the ground. I pretended to read the label while Joel pretended to look out across the complex. Unable to stand the silence any longer, as bravely as I could, I asked, “Would you like to come in for a glass of this? I probably shouldn’t drink the whole bottle on my own.”

I saw the conflict in his eyes. He wanted to come in and have a drink but I think there was a reluctance to let things progress back to where they were the other night. Me, I wasn’t concerned. If that’s where they ended up I was okay with that. Beside the fact that he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, he was unbelievable in bed as well.

“I really shouldn’t,” he groaned with no conviction behind his words.

I couldn’t hide the disappointment that was clearly written all over my face. “Okay. No problems. Some other time, then.”

Neither of us went to move. I made no attempt to close the door and keep the warmth in, and he made no effort to turn around and walk away. After another strained moment, Joel shook his head in defeat. “Maybe just one glass. It’s Friday, after all.”

I stepped back and watched as he walked into my home. Instantly I wished I had cleaned up that afternoon. It wasn’t dirty and uninhabitable, but it was messy. I went to push the catalogues that were covering the entire kitchen counter into some kind of pile when Joel grabbed my hand unexpectedly. “Don’t worry about cleaning up.” His eyes held me captive for a moment longer than they should have. I could feel the warmth of his skin on mine.

Forcing the thoughts from my head, I pulled my hand away and rifled around the kitchen drawer looking for a corkscrew. As soon as I pulled it out, Joel took it and opened the bottle. Unable to just stand there, I made myself busy looking for my best wine glasses. I wanted a pair of glasses, not two that were mismatched. Inwardly I was cursing myself. His house had seemed so grown up and proper, and mine wasn’t even a comparison. It was messy and full of secondhand furniture. The cupboards were lined with photos and knick knacks collected over the years. Some were childhood collectibles while others reminded me of my parents, things I hadn’t been able to part with when I started to throw things out.

With the glasses full, I returned to the lounge and tucked my feet underneath me. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Joel walk around inspecting everything. I sipped my wine as he quietly inspected photo after photo. His eyebrows raised over some while sadness seemed to consume him as he examined others. Part of me wondered if he saw something else in the photos, some pain that was in his own past, but I knew better than to ask.

When he sat down next to me minutes later, the silence that consumed us was dangerous. I could feel the sexual tension filling the foot wide gap between our bodies. In an attempt to calm my nerves, I downed the rest of my glass of wine, hoping to take the edge off.

“Need more wine?” I asked, springing off the lounge with overwhelming enthusiasm.

I watched in awe as Joel finished his glass in one long pull. “Sure,” he agreed, reaching out and handing me his glass. In the exchange of glasses, the moment our fingers touched, I felt my face turn a beetroot red.

I busied myself in the kitchen trying to hide while I pulled myself together. I grabbed a box of crackers and half a slab of cheese and dumped them unceremoniously onto a plate before overfilling the glasses. As I was mopping up the spill with a floral tea towel, Joel called out, “Need a hand in there?”

“No, umm…thanks. I’m fine. Won’t be a second,” I dodged. I took the moment of privacy as a sign. I ran a hand roughly through my hair in a vain attempt to tame it, then tried to straighten my shirt and brush the fluff from it.

Walking back into the lounge it was strangely alluring to see that Joel had made himself comfortable in my home. I know I had invited him to do so, but to see him with his shoes kicked off, tie hanging on the arm of his chair, was simply intoxicating. Handing him his wine, I was extra careful to ensure no physical contact was made. If I let myself, I could see us easily back in the same situation as the other morning.

“So…” Joel began stuffing his face with cheese and crackers. “Remind me again why I’m watching this chick flick?”

Slightly relieved, I laughed sincerely. Despite the nerves and the erotic fantasies playing in my head, I genuinely like spending time with him. He was fun. He made me laugh. And that was exactly what I needed.

“Because this is my house and I control the remote.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep. My house, my rules,” I said stubbornly. I was trying to be tough, but this was definitely heading for treacherous ground.

For a while Joel didn’t say a word. Instead, he just slowly put his glass on the floor next to him and reached for the throw hanging on the back of the lounge behind our heads. When he spread it over my legs I almost died of shock. He was being so sweet. No one other than my dad had ever been that nice to me without wanting something in return.

Quietly he got up, placed his wine glass back in the kitchen, and then stood next to the TV. “I should head home. It’s been a long day,” he admitted, sliding his feet back into his shoes and stuffing his tie in his pants pocket.

“Oh, o-okay,” I stammered, unable to hide my disappointment.

“I really am sorry, Gillian. I didn’t mean to be such an arse.”

“Forget about it. It’s all good.” I smiled, gaining confidence.

“I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon after the exhibition and let you know how it went. Hopefully it will be good news. Just think, you could even have it sold by then,” he said, slipping from human being to real estate agent without even pausing for a breath.

“Hope so. At least that will be one less thing to deal with.” As soon as I said it I immediately regretted my choice of words. I had made my life sound like a circus, a million things going on and none of them in my control.

I stood up and shuffled to the door, my eyes never leaving my feet. “Well then. Good night, Gillian. Enjoy your movie.”

“Thanks. Have a good night, Joel.” He stuck out his hand and I grasped it firmly. Shaking his hand felt so weird. Barely a week ago he had left black hickies on my neck and shoulders and now he was standing in my doorway, the cold air blasting us both, shaking my hand like we had just completed a very serious business deal.

I expected him to shake my hand and simply turn and walk away but he didn’t. The shaking stopped and he just stood there staring at our intertwined hands. When our eyes met I felt the tingling sensation consume my body, the images of last week flashing in my head like a slide show. “Well…good night,” he said, no louder than a whisper.

“You already said that.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

I nodded and smiled. If he was stumbling over his words, I wasn’t the only one feeling things that were going unsaid. Suddenly he pulled me towards him out on the balcony and into his arms. I melted into them, pushing my body against his. As his tongue entered my mouth I felt myself give in to him. With his hands ravishing me, Joel lifted me off my feet, my legs instinctively wrapping around his narrow waist as he carried me back over the threshold into the lounge.

Chapter Seven

As the sun crept through the curtains I rolled away from its awakening glare. My arms and legs were stiff and sore. After spending the night curled up on the lounge floor only meters from my warm, comfortable and inviting bed, my whole body ached. I looked over at Joel’s perfect face as he snored softly beside me. He looked so peaceful I couldn’t bring myself to wake him.

I wiggled slowly out from under his arm and crept into the bathroom. Brushing my teeth, a million thoughts darted about in my head. It couldn’t be a one night stand if it happened twice, could it? Or was the first time a mistake and the second one an apology? I couldn’t help but think I was desperate enough to try to convince myself of anything. I jumped in the shower and tried to force the thoughts from my head instead concentrating on the hot water cascading down my body.

I rushed out of the bathroom and into my bedroom wearing only a towel, hoping not to get caught running around with all my flaws on display. I heard cupboard doors being opened then closed and a gentle humming coming from the other end of the apartment. Rushing, I pulled on the first pair of jeans and jumper I found.

As I stumbled into the kitchen I saw something that took my breath away. Joel was standing there in my kitchen, wearing his white business shirt, half the buttons undone and flowing loosely, and a pair of navy satin boxer shorts. Nothing else. He was so sexy in that moment I wanted him again. He was flipping pancakes, and the smell of coffee filled my home. He looked comfortable, natural, and at ease. I couldn’t help but wonder if he looked that way in every woman’s kitchen or just mine.

“Morning.” He grinned, finally spotting me standing there watching him.

“Morning.” I smiled back. I felt the complete opposite of when I had done my forgettable walk of shame. I felt full of hope. For the first time since my world had been turned upside down I had hope.

“Have a seat,” he invited warmly, pulling the chair out for me. “Fresh pancakes and hot coffee.” As he placed the plate and mug in front of me he popped an unexpected kiss on my forehead.

Stuffing a forkful of pancake in my mouth, I mumbled, “So, what did I do to deserve this?”

“It’s a bribe, actually.”

My heart sank. No one had ever made me pancakes before, and at the mention of a bribe I felt like they were about to come back up. “Go on,” I invited timidly.

“I was hoping that I would be able to…” His face was deadpan. My pulse was racing. My hands were trembling. “…use your shower?” he finished. I wanted to jump the kitchen bench and throttle him.

“Only if I can have another pancake,” I teased as he piled more on my plate then placed his own next to mine.

We sat there eating for a while and reading the paper, silently passing the individual sections back and forth between us like a routine. When I found the ad for the unit I couldn’t help but smile. The photo of Joel proudly staring back at me was completely different compared to the less than impeccably dressed man sitting beside me in his underwear.

“Thanks for breakfast.” He grinned again, piling the plates in the sink.

“Hey, you cooked. Any time you feel like cooking, my door is always open.” As soon as I said it I expected the ground to crack open and swallow me whole. I sounded so pathetic, so clingy. I was actually being straightforward and honest; if anyone wanted to cook for me they were more than welcome. I hated it. And it wasn’t something that I was very good at anyway. My face flushed and I found myself unable to look at him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…” I began back peddling.

Holding his hand up to stop my ranting, he said, “Gillian, it’s okay. I know what you meant.”

“I’m sorry.” I shrugged.

“Forget it. So, about this shower?”

“Absolutely, help yourself.” I was glad to have a moment to compose myself. I had never been this clumsy with my words before, but there was something about his perfectness that made everything I said come out in a muddled mess.

I heard the water running and tried to focus. I picked up my dirty clothes from the previous night and, tossing them in the laundry hamper, I busied myself in the kitchen washing up the dishes and wiping down the counter tops—ordinarily things that would have been done before company arrived, not while they were showering the next morning.

“Gillian!” his deep, sensual voice called out from the bathroom.

“Coming.” When I reached the bathroom door his head was poking out into the hallway, his body hidden behind the white, wooden door. “What’s up?” I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

“Can I please have a towel?”

“Sorry,” I cried out, racing to the laundry to find a clean, non-pink towel he could use.

Rushing back to the bathroom, I handed it to him. But gone was his modesty. The door was open and he stood there wearing only a smile. “Thanks.”

I tried to back out of the room, struggling to keep my eyes on his face. When I crashed into the wall behind me, Joel let out a deep chuckle that sent tingles all the way to my toes. It sounded good. Even through my embarrassment I managed to giggle, accepting that this was a weird situation. I stood there frozen to the spot, laughing until my sides hurt. With only a towel wrapped around his slender waist, Joel stepped towards me and my heart raced. When he reached down and took my hand, the laughter died on my lips but continued in my eyes.

As his lips touched my neck I gasped, “Don’t you have to work?”

“I’ve got time,” he whispered seductively into my ear. And, after homemade pancakes, who was I to turn him down?

As he slid his hands under my jumper, my body came alive with goose pimples. I wanted him, and I wanted him now. “Come with me. This time, we do it properly.” Even in his bossy, condescending voice he was sexy. My jumper never left the bathroom, my jeans made it into the hallway. Barely. The towel alone was unceremoniously discarded in my bedroom door way.

An hour later we were both shaken back to reality when his phone began to ring. “Are you going to answer that?” I asked as he ran his finger up and down my stomach. At first the thought of him touching my blubber made me flinch, but the way he did it and the smile on his face the whole time…I couldn’t ask him to stop.

When I eventually kicked him out after attempting to iron his shirt, which had doubled as a pillow the night before, I was floating on a cloud. I was happy. He made me laugh and smile and wish for more. The only thing that left a sour taste in my mouth was the fact that he promised he’d call. If he hadn’t planned on calling me I would rather he just have said good bye, not leave me with false hope. But I was determined not to dwell.

If he hadn’t called by Monday with at the very least news about the weekend’s exhibitions, I would speak to his boss. Obviously there was no point trying to have a conversation with Joel face to face. Each time we saw each other we ended up naked.

I called Cora and we decided to go for a run. I’m sure she thought I had lost my mind when I suggested such an out-of-character thing to do. Usually I was the ‘
let’s meet for a cupcake and chat
’ kind of girl. But Cora didn’t say anything. She just agreed to meet me by the lake. I’m sure she was waiting to see me before the interrogation started, but on the phone she was nothing but polite.

We’d run three of the five kilometers of the track when we collapsed, puffing and panting. Sucking in long deep breaths, we were both hunched over, hands on our knees, gasping for air. For people who didn’t jog, ever, we had certainly decided to push ourselves.

“So,” Cora wheezed, “are you going to tell me who or what has got us out jogging on a Saturday morning?”

And there it was. The truth, staring at me through hazel eyes. Cora asking me who was making me this person. Deciding there was no point trying to lie, I told her the truth.

We ended up giving up on our run, and camping on a park bench under a tree for a long time just talking about everything. It felt good to confide in someone. I had never done anything like this before, and I wasn’t even really sure what it was that I was doing, but as I said the words out loud, it seemed to make sense. Cora asked a million questions, but not once did I feel judged.

Although I’d come clean and told Cora my dirty little secret, I wasn’t ready to tell the others just yet. “Please, whatever you do, don’t tell Rhiannon,” I found myself begging.

“You should tell them,” Cora encouraged, but I didn’t budge.

“Not yet. I don’t know what this is and I don’t want to jump to any conclusions and end up being humiliated. The fewer people who know about this, the better.” I was determined. I wasn’t going to end up avoiding everything because I’d made a fool of myself.

“Your call,” Cora conceded. “But, for the record, I think you should.”

We stood up and walked on in silence. The weight of my decision clearly didn’t sit well with Cora. But I knew she would keep my secret. Reaching the car, we hugged and promised to talk soon before we went our separate ways. Sitting behind the wheel, I didn’t feel like going home yet, and since I was still sweaty and smelly, shops and restaurants were out. Instead, I climbed back out of the car, finished the water in my bottle, and took off on another lap.

Jogging allowed my thoughts to flow in a conscious stream. They weren’t muddled or clouded by interruptions and distractions. All I had to concentrate on was my steady, deep breathing and placing one foot in front of the other. As I rounded the end of the lake and began heading for home, I increased the pace. Pushing myself harder and faster than I normally would, Joel crept into my thoughts, and I wasn’t sure if I was running to forget him or running to impress him.

With my mind elsewhere, I didn’t quite lift my foot high enough and I went sailing to the ground, landing with a thud. Instantly embarrassed, I looked around, making sure no one saw my clumsiness before scrambling to my feet. I dusted my hands off, pretended to ignore the pain in my ankle and knee, and hobbled as fast as I could back to the car.

As soon as I could I took off home and jumped into the shower. It felt better. Pain subsiding, humiliation fading, I was okay. Since starting myself on this strenuous exercise regime, I’ll admit I was surprised by the changes in everything. I ate more than I ever had, but I only wanted salads and veggies. I felt better and I was more confident. After stuffing myself with a crunchy Asian noodle salad, I had a nap on the lounge. After all, I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. When my phone vibrated under my pillow I was shocked awake. Joel was on his way over.

He arrived wearing a jumper and sweat pants with a bag of noodles and a bottle of wine in hand. “So, I have news.” He smiled as he breezed through the door, pausing briefly to plant a kiss on the top of my head, almost as if it was a habit.

I climbed back on the sofa, my legs tucked up under me, forgetting that I was supposed to try and impress anyone. It felt good not having to pretend. It was still all new and exciting and I wasn’t sure where I actually stood with Joel. I didn’t want to rush anything, but part of me nervously wanted to know.

I remained silent, waiting for the big news revelation, but he said nothing, frustrating me even more. I folded my arms across my chest and pouted dramatically.

“Gee, that’s attractive,” Joel said, dangling noodles from high above his head into his mouth.

“Like you can talk,” I teased. “So, what’s the big news?” I grunted impatiently, fighting the urge to jump him.

He wiped another face full of noodles away with the back of his hand, I couldn’t help but shake my head in mock disgust. “Well,” he flopped down unceremoniously beside me. “I have an offer for you.” I didn’t say anything; all I could do was raise a quizzical eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what we were talking about any more. “A young couple has put an offer on your apartment. It’s a really good offer. You should at least give it some thought.” His arm draped across the back of the lounge and around my shoulders.

“Maybe if you tell me the offer then I can consider it.”

For the next few minutes we discussed the offer and what I should do. Joel kept dodging my questions, refusing to tell me what I should do, saying it would be a conflict of interest.

“So, is sleeping with your clients a conflict of interest too?” I inquired as casually as I could. I heard the words come out of my mouth and instantly regretted it. “That sounded so much better in my head,” I added hastily, trying to make light of the situation.

Embarrassed, I jumped up off the sofa and backed away. I didn’t want him to touch me. Or look at me. Or even acknowledge my presence. My mouth had a bad habit of allowing words to escape before my brain had finished thinking them through. I hid in the kitchen and although I could hear the deep rhythmic sounds of Joel’s voice, I couldn’t make out the words. Trapped in the kitchen, I had nowhere to go. There was only one entry to my kitchen and only one exit, which Joel was now blocking.

With one hand on his hip and the other high above his head, he leaned invitingly against the door frame. I was captivated. All I could think about was his beautiful body. The humiliation that had consumed me only moments earlier melted and my whole body was rattled. “Are you going to let me actually answer that question?” He smiled, walking towards me.