The Pitch: City Love 2 (8 page)

“Can I ask another question, John? Why would you agree to go on a blind date with me if you’re keen on Scarlett?”

He looked sheepishly at me. “I thought it would make her happy. No offence intended toward you.”

“None taken, but big mistake. You don’t try to make Scarlett happy. It will just piss her off.”

I heard him swear under his breath again and tried not to smile. I wasn’t trying to ruin his day, just let him get on with his life without the pain of my dear friend Scarlett.

Our feet sank into the sand at the shore’s edge and the temperature change sent a jolt through my body. John paused and turned to me. “I’m happy to help you out, by the way, if you still want. And not because of Scarlett.”

“On a date?” I rolled my eyes. “Scarlett obviously relayed her evil plan.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be as evil as Scarlett makes it. Invite me along as your plus one next time you’re all going out somewhere.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit deceptive?” I asked. I was still having major issues with the concept.

“What’s deceptive about it? I’m only a friend, but he doesn’t need to know that. If it’s enough for him to see you with another man to make him feel jealous, then he’s obviously denying his feelings for you.”

“Scarlett made it sound far more underhanded than that. And dirty.”

He grunted. “She would. The offer stands anyway. Think about it.”

“Thanks.” I realized I would think about it, because it would be easy to call this man a friend.

We waded into the whitewash in silence. On the other side we watched as a series of waves rolled toward us. The calm before the storm.

“Ready?” he called above the sound of the pounding surf.

I glanced at him and then back at the wave rolling toward me with a look of grim determination. “Ready.”

The rhythm of a stylish song set low in the background punctuated the buzz of conversation. I smiled and let the sounds surround me like a warm embrace.

I loved this part of my job.

It was rather unusual for a company to throw
pre
-celebratory pitch drinks. On this occasion, I felt my staff deserved it. No matter how well we did on the pitch next week, my team had worked extremely hard, and they deserved to be recognized for it.

“It’s lovely here,” my mother said from beside me.

I nodded. I’d chosen a small bar overlooking Darling Harbour and reserved a space exclusively for our party of about forty people. I’d put a tab on the bar for a couple of hours and selected some finger food to encourage the responsible intake of alcohol.

“Can you afford this?” she asked me quietly.

“Yes,” I replied lightly. “I rarely spend my budget on these types of events, plus we had a great year.”

“I really think they appreciate it.”

“That’s the idea.” My mother knew I felt very strongly about developing the right sort of culture at Grounded Marketing. I didn’t plan on becoming one of those agencies known to churn and burn their staff. It was why I’d left full-time employment to start my own agency in the first place.

“Well, I know you meant it as a thank you,” she told me, “but I think it’s going to make them even more determined to win this account.”

“Your mother is a wise woman.”

I turned at the familiar tone of Paul’s soft voice and smiled. He was a little too good at sneaking up on people. “Hopefully it runs in the family.”

He bent down and grazed my cheek with his lips, in a friendly greeting. I did my best to ignore the way my skin burned at the contact.

“Can I get you a drink, Paul?” my mother asked from beside us.

“That won’t be necessary, Julia. You work just as hard as everyone else and I’m more than capable of getting my own drink.”

I looked pointedly at her. “Well said. When I tell her she does too much, she just ignores me.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Paul said, and raised his eyebrows at us both.

We laughed in unison.

“Well, on that note, I’m off to get myself another drink,” my mother said, then headed toward the bar.

I watched her walk away before turning to Paul. I knew my mother well. That was her way of letting the two of us have our space. Not that she’d admit to it if questioned.

“You’ve got a strong sense for what’s important in building a positive work culture,” Paul told me, as he watched our staff laugh over their drinks and nibbles.

“Only because I’ve been where they are.”

“It’s more than that.” He turned to face me. “You respect their skills, and who they are as people as well.”

“Well, duh.” I resisted clamping a hand over my mouth. That had sounded so teenage, even if it was the way I felt. “They’re people, not workhorses.”

I could tell he was biting back a smile. “Ah, you’ll never last long in business with that attitude.”

“Because you’re such a hard ass boss yourself, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “I leave that to my managers.”

“You’re just scared of being disliked.”

“You got me.”

We watched my team for a minute in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable. His quiet presence beside me actually made me realize I’d missed him this week. Apart from a brief meeting on Wednesday afternoon to run through our pitch with the team, we hadn’t spoken.

“I went surfing on the weekend.” I wasn’t quite sure why I had just said it, or why I thought it was an appropriate way to break the silence.

Paul turned to me. “You went surfing?”

“Yes. Down at Manly beach.”

“I didn’t know you surfed.”

“I don’t.” I grinned like a fool at him, the glass or two of wine I’d already had taking obvious effect. “I barely managed to stand up on the board.”

Paul’s mouth twitched. “I would have liked to have seen it. What prompted you to try surfing?”

“As you pointed out, I need more of a life outside of work. Plus Scarlett knows a very hot surfing instructor.” I bit my lip. I had
not
meant to say that. I’d definitely had a bit much to drink.

“Was he any good?” His reply was delivered without missing a beat, and once again, I was confused over his feelings for me. Surely if he was bothered by my preoccupation with my surfing instructor he wouldn’t be discussing the subject so calmly? I suddenly felt a very unwise desire to be difficult.

“He was very good, actually,” I replied playfully, letting the innuendo sink in. Then I decided to be damned with the innuendo. “He’s my latest blind date.”

There was a short pause, then Paul spoke. “I’ve been meaning to invite you to our work drinks next week.”

I blinked at his sudden change of subject. “Alright,” I said, slowly.

“It’s next Tuesday night. We’re hosting it at our offices. A lot of our clients will be there. It’s a chance to get yourself in front of some new faces.”

“Sounds worthwhile.” More than worthwhile and I felt honored he’d thought to include me.

“I can also introduce you to Greg, my business partner. He’s keen to meet you.”

“Sure,” I replied, distracted. I was actually quite keen to meet Greg too, but I was still reeling from the invitation.

“I might go and get myself a drink from the bar. Would you like one?”

I looked into Paul’s blue eyes. They were clear, calm and completely unreadable. “No, I’m fine, thanks. I should go mingle with some of my staff.”

Paul nodded, then walked in the direction of the bar. I swallowed, suddenly feeling like that extra drink. It wasn’t going to happen though. I needed to set a responsible example.

I watched the outline of Paul’s shoulders through the crowd for a long moment, then took a deep breath. The man was an enigma and I was beginning to think what he didn’t say said the most about his feelings. If that was the case, what hope did I ever have of getting him to articulate how he felt about me? I was seriously starting to consider taking John up on his offer, if only to put my mind at rest, because this guessing game was killing me.

*

It was late by the time our little celebration wound up. A couple of small groups of staff sat quietly chatting in huddles. They seemed content to stay and pay for their own drinks, so I waved them goodbye and they smiled happily in reply.

Picking up my jacket and bag, I felt a presence behind me.

“Can I give you a ride?”

“Paul? I didn’t realize you were still here.”

He gave me a small smile. “I’ve been out on the balcony talking to Sophie, from your accounting department.”

I bit back a grin in response. Sophie was Grounded Marketing’s one and only accountant. She did a fantastic job, but was known for her ability to talk. I was guessing the alcohol had assisted her verbal abilities. “Accounting or her ex-husband?” I asked.

He winced. “Both.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s alright. The introvert in me was happy to let her talk.”

I paused sorting through my bag for my mobile phone. “How does a man of your success get to your level – in pitching, no less – by being an introvert?”

“Bravado.”

“You’re not the arrogant type.”

“Bravado doesn’t have to be based on arrogance, you know. You’re the perfect example of that.”

I stopped, mobile phone in hand, and stared at him. “I’m not an introvert, nor am I arrogant,” I protested.

“I wasn’t suggesting you were. You’re a very confident woman, but beneath your tough exterior there’s a softer center.”

I didn’t know whether to be insulted about being called tough, or annoyed at him thinking I was soft.

He laughed quietly at my disgruntled expression. “I can see I’ve offended you again. I seem to be getting quite good at it.”

“You have quite a way with words,” I agreed, my annoyance only for show now.

“Can I make it up to you by giving you a ride home?” he asked again.

“You’ll have to settle with seeing me safely outside,” I replied. “My friend is picking me up.”

He nodded, his expression neutral and I felt my annoyance flare again. Why was this man so frustratingly unreadable? Or did I just want him to be disappointed because I was hoping he had feelings that weren’t really there?

I sighed and picked up my things. Paul walked in silence next to me as we made our way out. It was just after eleven in the evening but the city felt alive. The mild weather soothed my irritable mood, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of sea air and spring.

I quickly typed a text message to Scarlett, then put my phone bag in my bag.

“You don’t have to wait. Scarlett’s not too far away,” I told him.

His blue eyes appeared luminous, reflecting the city’s lights, and they widened slightly. “
The
Scarlett?”

“How do you know about Scarlett?”

“Christa filled me in earlier,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him.
Had she?
That was a definite worry. “That’s the one,” I replied dryly.

“Is she a good friend?”

“Sadly.”

He chuckled. “I take it she’s keen to see you settled down.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Isn’t that how it works? The girlfriends who have settled down are keen to see you in a relationship too?”

I couldn’t help myself. I started laughing and then discovered I couldn’t stop.

Paul watched on with a look of concern, which morphed into something registering alarm as I struggled for air.

I waved a hand at him, took a deep breath and managed to contain myself. “I’m sorry, Paul,” I managed eventually. “It’s just that the words Scarlett and settle down don’t really go in the same sentence.”

Paul stared at me. “I don’t get it.”

“Scarlett likes men, but she doesn’t really do relationships,” I clarified.

“So why is she so keen to see you in a relationship then?”

“Because it’s been four years and she thinks I need …” I cleared my throat uncomfortably and was painfully aware of a blush creeping up my neck.

“Right.” Paul mirrored my discomfort and cleared his throat too.

“That’s not why I’m agreeing to the dates, by the way,” I went on quickly. “It’s about more than that for me.”

Paul held up a hand. “We can drop it if you like.”

I studied him, feeling suddenly bold or perhaps very tipsy. “I value your opinion. You’re more than simply a business mentor, you know.”

Paul turned and looked directly at me, something flickering in his cool blue eyes. “Madeleine – ”

I ignored him. “I’d like to think we’ve developed a friendship too.” My heart was pounding wildly and my palms felt clammy, but I didn’t take my eyes from his.

“We have,” he said, carefully.

“Is that a problem?”

He looked startled. “No. Of course not. I value our relationship too.”

I wanted to laugh at his formality, but resisted. This man was
not
good at talking about anything personal. Maybe it was why his marriage failed, yet here I was urging every cell in my body not to take a step toward him and kiss him.

Instead, I inhaled another deep breath and smiled at him brightly. “I’m glad.”

Fortunately the loud blast of a car horn alerted us to Scarlett’s arrival. “Speak of the devil,” I told him.

“I’ll see you next week, then.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” a loud female voice called out.

I swallowed a grin.
Hi Scarlett.
She was already out of the driver’s seat before I had a chance to protest.

“Paul,” I said, “this is Scarlett.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he said, smoothly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, have you?” She reached over and shook his hand briskly. “I could say likewise.”

Scarlett!
I wanted to scream. We needed to get out of here.

I recognized the twinkle in Paul’s eyes. “All good things I hope.”

“Mostly.”

Oh dear God. “Alright then,” I said. “We’ll see you – ”

“You’re being rude, Maddy,” Scarlett shot back. “You’re forgetting to introduce him to John.”

It’s generally pretty hard for my complexion to go pale but I was fairly certain it went several shades lighter. I watched, deer in the headlights style, as John opened the passenger door of Scarlett’s car.

Bitch.
We had not discussed this.

“Paul, this is John,” Scarlett continued. “You’ve probably heard I’m not one for relationships, but as it turns out, I’m pretty good at setting them up for other people.”

John gave Paul a broad smile and shook his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, Paul.”

Then he turned to me. I suddenly felt like I was back on that damn surfboard out at sea, powerless to fight the tide. John’s dark eyes were amused as he looked at me. “Hi, gorgeous.”

I opened my mouth to respond – I wasn’t sure with what – but before I had a chance to reply, John’s mouth was on mine. My initial reaction was to push him away – what the hell was he
doing?
– but after a split second my traitorous body registered I was kissing a hot male and I responded by kissing him back.

John eased me out of the kiss and grinned. “Did it go well tonight, honey?”

Honey?
He was doing this all for Scarlett’s benefit, I knew. I smiled and hoped it wasn’t too fake. “Really well.”

“Great.” John turned to Paul. “Nice to meet you. I guess we better get going.”

Paul nodded. “See you later.”

I stared at Paul for a moment. His expression was impassive, although I noticed his eyes were unusually hard.

“Bye, Paul. Thanks for coming tonight,” I managed.

John tugged my hand, pulling me toward Scarlett’s car, and we both got in the back seat.

Scarlett, already in the driver’s seat, gave Paul a wave out the window, and then gunned the engine of her restored classic Morris Minor. We shot off into the night before I had another chance to look at Paul.

“Scarlett!” I screamed from the back when we were farther down the road. “What the fuck was that?”

“Assistance,” she replied.

“You have
no
idea – ”

She turned to me, which immediately shut me up because I would have preferred it if she kept her eyes on the road. “No, Madeleine,” she said, then returned her eyes to the traffic, “
you
have no idea. Sometimes you need to take a risk – ”