The Pitch: City Love 2 (19 page)

“When I say art collector, I mean serious art collector. I don’t think I’d be exaggerating if I told you her collection would be worth more than the house we just finished. She has industry contacts and so she picked up the phone to one of them in New York and raved about Scarlett’s work.”

“Oh my God. That’s fantastic!” I couldn’t believe it. This was wonderful news for Scarlett. She’d spent years doing her art around her paying job. This could turn it from a sideline project to a career.

John winced. “Apparently not. Scarlett’s supremely pissed off about the whole thing.”

“
What?
I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I.” He shook his head, so his hair fell over his eyes. “As far as I can tell, she doesn’t want to be successful.”

“Is she going to do the exhibition?” If John hadn’t been beside me, I would have been lunging for my mobile phone and calling Scarlett straight away to give her my two cents’ worth.

John exhaled a long breath. “Yes. I managed to talk her into it.”

“Talk her into it?” My voice was becoming increasingly high-pitched. “What is
wrong
with that woman?”

“She’s scared to fail,” he said simply.

He took in my stunned expression. “It’s true,” he continued. “She’s all prickly and puts on a brave front, but she’s terrified. It’s one thing to do a few small art gallery showings in Sydney, but New York is a big deal.”

“But she’s the toughest woman I know,” I breathed, still uncomprehending that she could have even considered turning down the opportunity.

“She’s only tough on the outside, Maddy. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

I stared at John, my thoughts reeling. He was right. I’d known Scarlett long enough to know he was right, but something else was bothering me. “I can’t believe she’s not talking to you.” The words,
ungrateful bitch
, were on the tip of my tongue, but I held back.

John looked unworried. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard from her. I figured she’d be ranting and raving to someone about what an asshole I am by now.”

“Asshole? You might have just handed her a career break – ”

“Except she made it perfectly clear she doesn’t want help from anyone. Especially me.”

“Oh John.” I shook my head. “I’m so sorry. And no, I haven’t heard from her. But that doesn’t mean anything – she usually lays low when she’s seriously pissed off about something.” Or worried about something, in this case.

John stretched out his strong arms. “Whatever. I’m done with her. It’s time to move on with my life. Let the precious princess get all worked up.” He stood and grabbed his surfboard. “What do you reckon? Are you ready to go out and catch a few waves together?”

I stared up at him, the sunlight creating a halo around his head like some sort of dark angel. I hopped up and picked up my board too. “You bet. I’m here to show off to Christa and Max. If I pass that test, then I can show my boyfriend my skills.”

John’s mouth curved into a wide grin. “That’s what I like to hear.”

We jogged toward the waves, the sand searing the soles of my feet. When we hit the water, the drop in temperature made me gasp, but I ignored it. I waved madly at Christa and Max as I passed them, who watched on with looks of excitement and amusement respectively.

As I paddled madly, trying to keep up with John’s powerful frame, my thoughts kept returning to our conversation. I was deeply troubled by the fact that Scarlett was turning this chance into something so negative. No matter how scared she was deep down, it was a fantastic opportunity. It was only days to Christmas and things were stupidly hectic, but I had to find a way to talk to her about it.

Whether she liked it or not.

It was Paul’s weekend without the boys and we were sharing a Sunday evening drink together in his courtyard. It was only a few more days until Christmas and a week of holidays. Right now the holidays were a hard concept to absorb. Things at Grounded Marketing had been frantic while we finalized the last details for ACB’s first campaign, due to start in mid-January. Paul’s team had finally secured the media and we were making the last round of changes to the advertising artwork.

“Where are you?” Paul asked gently.

“Sorry.” I shook myself and grabbed a handful of chips located in the bowl sitting between us. “Just wondering how on earth we’re going to get everything finished for ACB before Christmas.”

“Don’t worry, it will happen.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve had them sign off on the media schedule.”

“And they’ll sign off on your artwork too.”

I studied the corn chip in my hand like it held the answer to my worries. “You make it sound so easy.”

“You make it sound so hard.” He reached over and grabbed my corn chip, put it in his mouth and crunched on it loudly.

I gave him a mock insulted look. “Clearly I need to stop thinking about work and drink more wine.”

“You do,” Paul said between mouthfuls.

“Alright, time to change the subject then. I wanted to ask you what you’re doing for Christmas. We haven’t discussed it.”

Paul washed his chips down with a mouthful of beer before answering. “I figured we’d both be caught up seeing our families.”

I knew he put his kids first, but his statement bothered me. “So did I,” I agreed slowly, “but it would be nice to catch up at some point. I have some presents I want to give Jack and Noah.”

“Sure. How about you come around on Boxing Day?”

I frowned.

“What?”

“Mum and Dad are hosting Christmas dinner and asked if I’d like to invite you.”

Paul set down his beer. “That’s very generous of them.”

“But?”

“I’m tied up with my family all day Christmas Day.”

I nodded. It wasn’t surprising he was busy, but I was inexplicably disappointed. Paul sensed my mood and reached over to cover my hand with his.

“I didn’t think to ask. I guess the idea of juggling Christmas between two families is still a little foreign to me. It’s been a while,” he admitted.

“I don’t want you to feel as though you have to juggle me, Paul.”

Paul let go of my hand. “Madeleine – ”

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “That was unfair. I know the boys come first.”

“You’re important to me too. I guess I just thought it would be easier to keep things separate this year.”

“I understand.” And I did, really. I was just disappointed.

“It’s not like I haven’t already met your parents,” he added.

“I know.”

He gave me a sidelong glance. “In a work capacity, that is.”

I turned to him. “You’re worried it will be weird?”

“Won’t it?”

I shook my head. “Why? Mum loves you and you already have a good relationship with my dad.”

“A working relationship,” he corrected.

“Dad knows I’m in a relationship with you.” It was true. My father, Will, had been a little shocked when I’d told him I was seeing the man he’d arranged to be my mentor, but he’d quickly recovered. It was obvious he respected Paul, and my mother’s affirmations of how wonderful Paul was had shut him up.

Paul smiled wryly. “I bet he was over the moon.”

“You underrate yourself.”

“Maybe.”

I took another sip of wine. The tart flavors tasted too strong in my throat. “You’re concerned about it,” I stated.

“Not concerned, just aware of it.”

I stared out at the city, trying to make sense of the conversation. “So. Boxing Day, then.”

“Boxing Day it is. We’ll have a barbecue lunch here.” Paul stood. “I’m going to grab another beer. Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head and watched him retreat inside – because that’s what he was doing. Retreating.

I sighed and stared at the cityscape, basking in the heat of the summer evening.

I shouldn’t be disappointed, I told myself. We were going to see each other the day after Christmas and he’d have dinner with my family another time. But something was still bothering me.

Things had been going so well between us. Paul had been including me in activities with the boys and I’d started to feel like a part of his family. Was it presumptuous of me to expect I’d be included in his family’s Christmas Day celebrations? I also hadn’t anticipated he’d be worried about spending time with my family. Not worried, I corrected myself with a small frown. I just needed to give Paul time. But even as I thought it, I caught a perverse part of myself wondering why. I was willing to embrace Paul’s past and his children, all the baggage he’d been so worried about. In return I was hoping he would welcome me into his family, and welcome the invitation into mine.

Was that too much to ask?

*

“God, I love this time of year.”

Scarlett inhaled a cigarette as though it was a delicacy. We were sitting on the balcony of Christa and Cate’s apartment overlooking Lavender Bay. I cringed and took another sip of my wine, waving away the smoke. Scarlett ignored my obvious attempts to communicate my extreme dislike of her habit.

Cate was inside preparing some snacks, while Christa had popped downstairs to pick up more supplies from the bottle shop. Tonight was a celebratory night of pre-Christmas girly drinks. It was great to have the four of us together but I intended to make the most of my alone time with Scarlett.

I took a deep breath once the smoke had cleared. “So when were you planning on telling us about your exhibition in New York?” I asked lightly.

Scarlett’s eyes darted to mine. “Who told you?”

“My surfing instructor.”

“Meddlesome bastard,” she muttered.

I looked at her in disbelief. “Some would suggest he’s just handed you a once in a lifetime career opportunity.”

“Which I did not ask for.”

“The term ungrateful bitch has crossed my mind a time or two since I found out,” I said honestly. There weren’t many people I would speak so frankly to, but Scarlett was one of them.

Scarlett threw her cigarette over the balcony – I didn’t bother to hide my disgusted look – and I watched as she sighed deeply. “It took me by surprise,” she said.

“So once you get over the surprise, that’s generally when you say thank you.”

Scarlett ran a hand through her cropped hair, looking conflicted. “I wasn’t prepared for it, that’s all. I’m cool with the odd gallery showing in Sydney – it satisfies my creative urges. I’m also finally getting used to agency meetings.”

Last year, Scarlett had been promoted to the position of Creative Director within the advertising agency she worked for. It meant she had to spend a lot more time enduring meetings instead of working on the creative side of things, which wasn’t really her style. She’d gone along with it because she figured it would be good for her career and the pay raise hadn’t hurt either.

“Do you really see yourself doing that for the rest of your life?” I asked her.

“No.” She grimaced. “Maybe …” She stood abruptly and began pacing the balcony. Her ankle-high boots clicked sharply while she walked. I had no idea how she continued to wear boots in this heat, but sandals weren’t her thing.

She stopped as suddenly as she’d started and looked at me, hands on her hips. “He’s gone and given me hope now, hasn’t he? Why couldn’t he just leave it alone?”

“He merely recommended your artwork to someone who might appreciate it. He didn’t exactly fly to New York and set it up personally. It was luck, Scarlett. The right place at the right time.”

“But why does he always have to be so encouraging!” She threw her hands up in the air and resumed pacing.

I studied her compact form, dressed in her signature black – it was a black mini skirt and black corporate tank-top today. I knew we weren’t talking about her career anymore. “Some would suggest he’s just being a supportive friend.”

“Well, he’s too supportive, if you ask me. He’s always trying to help out and I’m just so goddamn sick of it.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Scarlett collapsed in the chair beside me. “God. I’m such a bitch, aren’t I?”

“You said it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. He was so excited when he told me and it was such a shock. I was bloody terrified by the thought of it at first.” Her expression turned pained. “Now he’s avoiding me, isn’t he?”

“Kind of,” I hedged. I wasn’t about to tell her he was planning on avoiding her before that.

She sighed and searched for another cigarette. I picked up her wine glass and passed it to her instead.

“Thanks.” She took a sip and savored it for a long moment. “It’s probably for the best. The kid was starting to grow on me.”

Kid? I knew Scarlett had a different perspective of the world. How it involved the towering, surfing sculpted John being described as a kid – when she was barely five foot three – escaped me. “He’s hardly a kid.”

“He’s only twenty-five.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line, hiding my smile. So she did have feelings for him. If she was making lame excuses like this, she was definitely trying hard to convince herself she wasn’t interested. I knew when to keep my feelings to myself, though. “So are you going to do the exhibition?”

“Of course. It’s not until May next year, which is spring in the US. At least that gives me time to get over myself.”

“Good. And while you’re at it, how about getting over yourself enough to apologize to John and possibly even thank him?” I suggested.

“I need to brood a bit longer first.”

“Don’t wait too long, Scarlett. Try for this year if you can manage it.” I wasn’t sure why I was pushing it. John had made it clear he was over Scarlett and preferred to keep his distance. Even if Scarlett did like him, she was hardly relationship material. It was probably just my sense of propriety that made me feel a good man like John deserved some recognition for his thoughtful gestures.

“I hear you. I actually want to ask him which pieces he thinks would suit the show, as well as show him some of my new work.”

I frowned thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything.

“Shut up. He’s got good taste and I value his opinion. It’s nice to throw ideas around with someone who doesn’t have their head shoved so far up their ass in the name of art. He says it like it is.”

“Maybe you could mention that to him when you apologize.”

“That he doesn’t have his head shoved up his ass?”

I laughed, despite myself. “Maybe just show him your paintings. You do better with art than words.”

“You got that right.”

“What’s she got right?” Cate joined us on the balcony, her eyes bright and her expression curious.

“Thank Christ it’s Christmas Eve,” Scarlett said quickly, oblivious to her blatant sacrilege in her attempt to change the subject.

Cate flopped into a chair. “Tell me about it. I mean I’ve been enjoying my new job, but this weather is to die for. Now I can spend a few days going to the beach.” She looked over at me. “What are you doing for Christmas this year, Maddy?”

“Christmas dinner at Mum and Dad’s with Christa and Max.”

“Are you seeing Paul?” Cate asked.

“He’s spending Christmas with his family. I’ll see him on Boxing Day,” I said.

“Your mum is still disappointed Paul and the kids aren’t coming.” Christa came out on to the balcony, another bottle of wine in hand.

“Sorry I couldn’t take the pressure off,” I said with a grin.

Christa shrugged. “Whatever. Julia isn’t too bad.”

“Christa has to get married first, before kids. I’m surprised Julia isn’t pushing for that,” Cate said.

“Who says?” Scarlett looked darkly at Cate over the rim of her glass.

“Stop it you two.” Christa shook her head at both of them. “No, I don’t need to get married before we have children, but I would prefer it, if you must know. And as I am not currently pregnant or engaged, children are a while off.”

“So when might you get engaged? Any idea?” Cate asked coyly.

Christa’s usually bright blue eyes dimmed. “I’m not exactly going to push for a proposal after Max’s last fiancée.”

We all went silent. Max had been hurt beyond measure and I could understand why Christa wasn’t going there just yet.

“Who would have thought you were marriage material anyway …” Scarlett gave Christa a playful look.

Christa responded by poking out her tongue. “Excuse me. Just because I have a few exes does not mean I’m not suited to marriage.”

“I think you and Max are perfect together.” We didn’t miss Cate’s dreamy tone of voice.

“I thought you said you were done with men for now?” I asked.

Cate’s expression turned guilty. “I am – at the moment. But I can dream, can’t I?”

Scarlett shook her head, while Christa and I gave her reassuring looks. Cate had always wanted to settle down with the right man and start a family, but for whatever reason, her fantasy continued to elude her.

I gave her arm a light squeeze. “You can definitely dream. We just hope one day it will become a reality.”

“Like you and Paul?” She smiled warmly at me. “You’re so lucky, Maddy.”

“I guess. It’s still early days.”

Cate looked at me sharply. “Surely you’re not having doubts?”

“No, nothing like that,” I said quickly. “We’re just taking it slow, that’s all.”

“Because of his children?” asked Cate.

I nodded slowly. “He’s being careful.”

“He’s not the type to rush in,” Scarlett said perceptively.

“He’s been great lately, actually. We’ve been doing things together with the kids, but I need to respect that this is complicated for him.”

Christa refilled my glass. “We all know Maddy is ridiculously practical. She’s not the sort to fall head over heels in love either.”

Christa’s statement was accurate, but for some reason it troubled me.

“You’re not in love with Paul?” Cate sounded disappointed.

I pondered her question and stared out at the bay. The boats were bobbing in the early evening breeze and people were strolling near the water’s edge, enjoying the balmy weather.