The Charlton Affair (3 page)

Chapter Three

Amanda’s investigative bent had served Charlie well in the past, which is why Charlie never chided her for ‘looking into things.’ Determined to get to the bottom of her dislike of Michael Rawlins, she felt the need to find out more about him. Having run out of leads, Amanda decided to concentrate on his wife and see if there was anything about her that could help. Googling Phoebe Rawlins brought up Phoebe’s work bio at Nilson Banks along with several other random hits.

Amanda noted Phoebe had graduated from the University of Queensland with honors. She also had a masters degree and had been practicing for more than ten years. Phoebe was made a partner a couple of years ago, specializing in insurance and risk. The photo was not as nice as the one on Michael’s Facebook page, but it was still obvious that Phoebe was extremely attractive. Phoebe wore a serious expression in the image, her alabaster skin offset by a dark brown suit and crisp white blouse.

Just then Charlie walked in.

Amanda said, surprised, “You’re back early. I’m sorry, I don’t have any food for you yet.”

Charlie smiled, replying, “It’s OK, I grabbed something from the food court on the way back. I knew you weren’t expecting me.” She added, “It’s been adjourned until next week. Can you add it to my calendar for next Wednesday?”

As she stood leaning over Amanda’s desk, Charlie noticed the screen.

She exclaimed, “I just met her. She was in the food court with Roman Coustas. You remember him?”

Amanda nodded, “Yes, your friend the sexy accountant.”

“They work at the same company,” Charlie said. Looking closely at the photo she added, “She’s much prettier in real life.”

“She must be really hot then, because she’s gorgeous in the photos I’ve seen.” Amanda replied.

“Photos?”

Amanda nodded, tapping her keyboard, then replied, “Look at this one.”

Amanda brought up Michael’s Facebook page cover photo. Charlie studied the image of Phoebe as she sat smiling with Michael’s arm over her shoulder for a few moments.

Amanda said, “What’s she like?”

“She didn’t say much. Actually, she seemed really nervous. She blushed when we were introduced.” Charlie said.

Amanda teased, “Swooning at your devastating charm?”

Charlie laughed, and wistfully replied, “If only it were that easy.”

Amanda knew her boss was lonely. Her last relationship had floundered on the rocks several months ago and Charlie had shown no interest in dating since then. Amanda wondered if it was because she was so busy with work, or because she was a bit jaded about it all.

“Your friend Roman is quite social, isn’t he?”

Charlie smiled in agreement, “Yes, he’s the Brisbane equivalent of a New York socialite, complete with ostentatious dinner parties. He knows everyone. I used to enjoy the dinner parties but I haven’t felt like that sort of thing for a while.”

“Maybe I should ask him for information?” Amanda said, half joking.

Charlie said, “I’m not sure he could keep that sort of secret.”

Amanda frowned in disapproval.

Charlie clarified, “He likes to gossip, but he can be trusted. What I meant is if he thinks his friend Phoebe is in trouble, he’ll warn her. He’s the loyal type. It’s best if neither of us approaches him about Michael or Phoebe, even though I’m sure he’d be a goldmine of information. I will have coffee with him, though. I won’t raise the subject, but I won’t discourage him if he does.”

Amanda nodded, understanding the need to maintain client confidentially, whether you liked your client or not.

Charlie directed, “See what else you can dig up about Michael.” Pausing, she added, “Actually, make it about both of them.”

Amanda grinned, “I’ll get straight onto it.” This was exactly the sort of work she enjoyed most.

Looking at Amanda with her brow furrowed, Charlie said, “I’ve got a funny feeling about this. Use petty cash if you need to purchase records or anything.”

Charlie went to her office.

Amanda rubbed her hands together, delighted to have her investigative project officially sanctioned. The first thing she did was telephone Darren Franks.

“Hi Darren, it’s Amanda.”

“Hello lovie,” Darren’s warm baritone responded.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything for you and Charlie, of course,” he replied without even asking what it might be.

“Can you get on, log into your LinkedIn account and go look at Michael Rawlin’s profile for me?”

“Ahh, doing some investigations into the shady Mr. Rawlins…” Darren laughed merrily.

Amanda could hear Darren tapping his keyboard in the background.

He muttered to himself as he navigated to the page, and then said, “Got it, it’s up. Not much in it, lovie.”

“I’m not surprised, there’s not a lot about him on the internet. Thanks Darren. Can you print it off and scan it over to me or take a screen shot and email it?”

“Sure. If he asks me why I visited I’ll just say I wanted to check the correct spelling of his name or something. I doubt he’ll ask, though.”

“I should get my own account, but I don’t want the clients to think Charlie’s snooping…”

Darren laughed, teasing her, “Yes, barristers are supposed to be above all that, whereas we mere solicitors can get up to anything!”

*****

While deeply concerned for his friend, at the same time Roman relished the high drama of the situation. The paramedics had arrived with flashing lights and blaring sirens in the heart of George St and whisked them away from the busy food court to the nearest private hospital.

Phoebe had soon regained consciousness but was extremely quiet. Roman wasn’t sure if it was her condition or sheer embarrassment that silenced her. Knowing Phoebe’s reserved nature, he suspected the latter. Once he was satisfied Phoebe would be fine, he began to thoroughly enjoy the whole fiasco, gleefully participating in the emergency department hubbub, giving information to the hospital staff and calling the firm to let them know they would not be back that afternoon, describing Phoebe’s collapse in delicious detail.

Roman offered to call Michael, but Phoebe begged him not to, saying he was away again and that she was sure it was nothing. Roman thought to himself that things must be really bad at home if she didn’t want her husband to know she was in hospital.

A nurse entered Phoebe’s cube and asked Roman to leave, as she wanted to open Phoebe’s blouse in order to monitor Phoebe’s heart.

Phoebe said with a weary voice, “Please let him stay. I don’t mind.”

Roman dutifully held Phoebe’s hand and looked away while the nurse placed a series of cardiac monitor dots across Phoebe’s chest and extremities. She took some blood, and asked several intrusive questions, including inquiring if Phoebe could be pregnant. Horrified, Phoebe responded in the negative. Telling Phoebe to lie extremely still, the nurse pressed a button on the machine and waited for a reading to be taken. Pressing another button, she told Phoebe to keep her arm still. Roman watched in fascination, as the machine seemed to be measuring Phoebe’s blood pressure, heart rate and oxygen levels.

Before she left the cube, the nurse pronounced, “Your observations are all normal, but you need to speak to a doctor before we can release you.”

“See, no need for all this fuss, I just fainted,” Phoebe complained to Roman.

“Better safe than sorry. What was I supposed to do? You were unconscious on the food court floor!” Roman replied, defending himself. “Anyway, you still haven’t told me your big secret. Don’t think being stuck in hospital is going to get you out of it,” he teased her, skillfully shifting the focus off himself and back onto her.

*****

Phoebe looked away from her closest friend, her feelings too raw to share, even with him. From the moment she came to, she had been unable to stop thinking about Charlie Moss. She was real, she was utterly gorgeous, and she hadn’t seemed the slightest bit interested in her. She didn’t seem to recognize her at all. Even worse, Phoebe felt she no longer knew herself or what she wanted. It was one thing to have a series of confusing dreams, it was altogether something else to be attracted to a real, live, breathing woman. And what should she do about her marriage? In despair, she wondered,
could my life get any worse?

*****

Michael ran his hand lightly across the beautiful woman’s taut thigh, teasing her, knowing she was ready but making her wait. She lay invitingly postured on his wife’s side of the bed at their opulent Noosa holiday home. He couldn’t believe his luck in finding this incredibly sexy woman. Looking into her deep brown eyes, he saw tension and then sudden defiance.

Not willing to wait, she rose up and straddled him, taking him into her. Impatient by nature, she never hesitated to take what she wanted. His excitement rose higher and higher. She was so free, so unlike his quiet, hesitant wife. She was tall, dark haired, dark eyed, olive-skinned and voluptuous, the total opposite of his wife’s demure reserve. 

At moments like this he knew he did not want to go back to the boring life he had with Phoebe, sweet as she was. But he needed to protect himself before he could move on. He wondered if going to lawyers had been a good idea, he didn’t want them digging around, but he needed to know where he stood. Her movement intensified. Lost in her, he soon ceased thinking at all.

*****

Donning the filmiest of robes, Marita Sanchez checked her hair and make-up. The mirror confirmed she looked extremely tempting. She had mastered the ‘just got out of bed but ready for more’ look perfectly. She couldn’t afford to have her future husband anything but completely smitten by her.

Michael was admiring the view from a lounge chair when she joined him on the deck of the magnificent property. Preferring that he admire her instead, she stood directly in front of him. She handed him a mojito and looked down at his face. Casually sipping her own cocktail, she allowed the light breeze to play with the sheerness of her robe, offering him glimpses of what lay beneath. She noticed Michael’s breath begin to quicken. She sat on the lounge next to him and trailed her long fingernails up the back of his neck and into his hairline.

“Darling, I know you told me already, but what it is it your wife does again?” Marita breathed into his ear.

Distracted, Michael replied, “She’s an actuary. Let’s not talk about her right now…”

His mind was on other things as he flipped the edge of her robe open to reveal more of her incredible legs. Taking his hand, she placed it directly between her legs, letting him feel how receptive she was. He gasped in surprised excitement.

“What is her specialty?” Marita opened her robe to reveal large firm breasts.

Michael eyes fixated on her chest as he replied, “Risk and insurance.”

She took his head and gently started to push his mouth towards her breasts, “Ah yes, darling,” she whispered.

Soon he was too busy to speak. Marita made sure her hands were also active. She wanted all of his attention.

*****

Doctor Martin Briggs looked at Phoebe expectantly from over the small round glasses perched on his unremarkable nose. His pleasant, nondescript features vaguely reminded her of someone familiar, but she wasn’t sure whom. She felt comfortable in his warm presence, so it must be someone nice, she thought.

“My parents were always busy,” Phoebe continued, “Dad’s a stockbroker and Mum’s a school principal.”

Doctor Briggs nodded, taking notes, “And your older sister?”

“She’s an engineer. She works in all sorts of remote places.”

“Ah, yes, often the children stay close to home or they go very far away. You live one suburb from where you grew up, yes?”

“Yes. Michael and I purchased our house in Hamilton a couple of years ago. Before that I lived in a flat a couple of streets away. I’ve always lived around there,” replied Phoebe.

“And you said earlier that you’re questioning your marriage? What’s making you unhappy with your husband?”

“As you said to do, I’ve been paying attention to my feelings. I’ve noticed that I’m not looking forward to seeing him like I used to. I’m actually happier when he’s away. But, it’s not so much that as…” Phoebe faltered, embarrassed, not wanting him to think she was mentally unhinged.

“Is it the woman in your dreams?” Doctor Briggs enquired gently.

Reddening, Phoebe nodded.

“It’s not just that,” she admitted.

“Yes,” he queried gently.

“Um…well. I’ve met someone.”

His eyebrow rose gently.

“She, er…,” Overcome with embarrassment, Phoebe was unable to continue.

“You’re attracted to her?” Doctor Briggs suggested softly.

Phoebe nodded, grateful he didn’t make her say it.

“I see. Tell me more,” he said blandly.