Читать книгу It Started With... Collection - Miranda Lee - Страница 13

RACHEL stood silently by Justin’s side in the ride down in the lift, her stomach twisted into nervous knots.

How could she possibly carry this charade off? It was…beyond her. She might be looking good on the outside but inside she was still the same Rachel who’d run into Eric yesterday and bolted like a frightened horse. Fear rippled down her spine and invaded every pore in her body. The thought of confronting her ex with his new lady-love held nothing but a sick-making apprehension.

‘I…I can’t do this, Justin,’ she whispered just as the lift stopped at one of the floors on the way down to the lobby.

‘Yes, you can,’ he reassured firmly.

The lift doors whooshed back and there, waiting for the lift, were the objects of her fear.

Rachel sucked in sharply.

‘I gather that’s Eric the Mongrel,’ Justin whispered.

‘Yes,’ she choked out, not feeling at all like giggling at the silly nickname this time. Eric the Magnificent would be more like it. He really was a drop-dead gorgeous-looking guy, especially in a dinner suit. Charlotte was no slouch in the looks department, either, the passing years seeming to have enhanced her darkly striking beauty. Tall and supermodel-slim, she was chic personified with her concave-cut dark brown bob and elegant black dress.

‘Charlotte, come on,’ Eric said impatiently, stepping forward to hold the lift doors open whilst not giving its occupants a second glance.

Charlotte, who’d been checking her hair and make-up in the hall mirror when the lift doors opened, finally swung round. ‘Keep your shirt on, lover,’ she said. ‘These things never start on time.’

As Charlotte walked past Eric into the lift he glanced up over her shoulder and finally noticed Rachel in the corner, his face registering instant recognition this time, plus considerable shock.

‘Good lord!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s Rachel. You remember Rachel, Charlotte. Rachel Witherspoon.’

Rachel would later wonder where her courage—and her composure—came from. Possibly from the look of surprise on that bitch’s face as she surveyed Rachel from top to toe.

‘So it is,’ Charlotte said. ‘Fancy seeing you here, of all people.’ Her sexily slanting black eyes soon slid over to Justin. Women like Charlotte never looked at other women for long when there were attractive men around.

Meanwhile, Eric kept staring at her as though she were a little green man from Mars.

‘I was just thinking the same about you two,’ Rachel returned, proud as punch of her cool control. ‘I gather you’re together? This is my boss, Justin McCarthy,’ she swept on, not giving either of them the chance to answer. ‘Justin, these are friends of mine, Eric Farmer and Charlotte—er—sorry. I can’t seem to recall your second name, Charlotte.’

‘Raper.’

‘Oh, yes. Raper…’ A ghastly surname. ‘So what brings you two up to the Gold Coast this weekend? Business, or pleasure?’

Eric muttered ‘Pleasure’ the same time as Charlotte said ‘Business’. After Charlotte shot him an angry look he changed his answer to ‘Both’. But he looked far from happy.

Rachel had to smile at having rattled Eric so easily. Justin was right. A spot of revenge was a good salve for old wounds. But she still wasn’t sure about pretending she and Justin were lovers.

‘And you?’ Eric finally thought to ask. ‘Are you here for business or pleasure?’ He too was assessing Justin on the quiet, Rachel noticed. And perhaps not feeling his usual male superiority. For, as glamorous as Eric still looked at first glance, up close there was some evidence he was beginning to go to seed. He was becoming jowly, his crowning glory was thinning on top and his stomach was no longer athletically flat.

Frankly, he was looking a bit flabby. Of course, he had to be going on forty nowadays, whereas Justin was in his earlier thirties. Justin was taller than Eric, too. Taller and fitter and possibly more attractive, Rachel was surprised to discover.

‘We’re just here on business, aren’t we, Justin?’ she said, and touched him lightly on his nearest arm, her eyes pleading with him not to say differently.

Justin covered her hand with his and gave it an intimate little squeeze. ‘Oh, absolutely,’ he agreed, whilst his glittering blue eyes gave an entirely different message. ‘Rachel’s my new PA, and such a treasure. Only been with me for five weeks or so, but I already wouldn’t know what I’d do without her.’

Oh, God, Rachel agonised. Somehow, without saying a word to that effect, Justin was making it sound as though their relationship extended way beyond the office.

‘Really,’ Eric said coldly, one eyebrow arching as he stared at her cleavage.

Rachel could feel heat gathering in her cheeks because it was perfectly clear what Eric was thinking.

‘Eric,’ Charlotte said sharply. ‘Will you please move your butt inside the lift so that the doors can close?’

He flashed his lover a caustic glance but took a step inside.

‘Have you known Rachel long?’ Justin asked him whilst they waited for the lift to resume its ride down.

Rachel immediately tensed over what answer he would give.

‘We were engaged once a few years back,’ Eric bit out. ‘But things didn’t work out at the time, did they, Rach?’

Everything inside Rachel tightened further at his use of that once affectionate shortening of her name. But she’d be damned if she’d show any reaction on her face other than indifference to the role he’d once played in her personal life. ‘Oh, I think things worked out just fine, Eric,’ she said with a casual shrug. ‘I did what I had to do and you did what you had to do. Anyway, there’s no point in talking about the past. You’ve obviously moved on, and so have I.’

The lift doors closed at that juncture, as though emphasising her point.

‘You still let a good one get away,’ Justin remarked on the way down. ‘But your loss is my gain.’

‘I thought she was only your PA,’ Eric shot back.

‘Oh, she is. But a good PA these days is worth her weight in gold. Rachel leaves the girl I had before her for dead. She’s not only beautiful but bright as a button, and such a sweetie. Just think, if you two hadn’t broken up Rachel would be your wife by now. Instead, she’s working for me, making my life run like a breeze. Amazing the little twists and turns in life, isn’t it? Aah, here we are at the lobby.’

Rachel did her best not to flinch when Justin slid a highly intimate arm around her waist and steered her smoothly from the lift in Eric and Charlotte’s wake. They weren’t touching at this point, Rachel noted. They weren’t even holding hands. Charlotte’s body language showed anger, and so did Eric’s.

Rachel tried to be scandalised with what Justin had just done, and she was a bit, but at the same time she felt a strange elation. And some vengeful satisfaction. Now she knew what Justin had meant by putting a cat amongst the pigeons.

‘I presume you’re going along to the special presentation dinner tonight?’ Justin asked Eric before he could make his escape with Charlotte.

‘Yes, we are. Charlotte’s in real estate and is here representing a wealthy client of hers.’

‘I can speak for myself, Eric,’ Charlotte snapped. ‘Actually, my client is more than wealthy. He’s a multi-multimillionaire. Trust me, if he decides to buy this place whoever you’re working for won’t stand a chance. What this man wants he gets. So who is it that you work for, anyway? And what is it that you actually do?’

Justin delivered an intriguingly enigmatic smile. ‘Now, that would be telling, wouldn’t it? I can confess to being an investment adviser, but, as I’m sure you are aware, client confidentiality is important in matters such as this. Property-development deals are rather like a game of poker. You don’t ever put all your cards on the table, not till after the game has been done, or won.’

‘My client never bluffs,’ Charlotte said smugly. ‘He doesn’t have to. When he wants something he simply makes sure he’s the top bidder. Money overcomes all obstacles.’

‘Is that so? Your client might not ever bluff, but if he keeps making business decisions that way he might end up with a house of cards rather than a solidly based portfolio. One day, it’ll come crashing down around him.’

‘Well, that’s no concern of mine,’ Charlotte said with an indifferent shrug of her slender shoulders. ‘He’s just a client. As long as I get my commission on a sale, I don’t care what happens afterwards.’

‘Spoken like a real-estate agent,’ Justin said with a dry laugh.

She didn’t bat an eyelid at the barb. ‘Property’s a tough business.’

‘But you’re well up to it.’

‘Oh, I’m not that hard,’ she returned. ‘Not once you get to know me.’ And she flashed him an almost coquettish smile.

Rachel could not believe it. Charlotte was making a play for Justin right in front of her and Eric’s eyes!

But what’s new? she realised bitterly. That was what she’d done with Eric when he’d been engaged to her.

A quiet fury began to simmer within Rachel. Charlotte had seduced Eric away from her, but no way was Rachel going to let Charlotte get her claws into Justin! He might only be her boss but he was far too nice a man for the likes of that alley cat to play with.

‘I hate to interrupt this conversation,’ she piped up with a saccharine smile, ‘but we really must be getting along, Justin. The dinner starts at eight and you promised to meet Mr Wong at the main bar at seven-fifteen. And it’s way past that now.’

‘You’re right. See what I mean? What would I do without her? No doubt we’ll run into each other again during the dinner. Maybe we can even sit at the same table. Mind us a spot if you can. Meanwhile, I must away and meet my—er—meet Mr Wong. And no, don’t ask me who he is, sweetheart,’ he threw at Charlotte, then pressed his index finger to his lips. ‘Client confidentiality, remember.’

‘Who the hell is Mr Wong?’ he whispered to Rachel after a sour-faced Eric grabbed Charlotte’s arm and started steering her forcibly past Reception in the direction of the main conference room, the venue for the dinner.

‘No idea,’ Rachel confessed. ‘I made him up.’

‘But why? The idea is to stay in Eric and Charlotte’s company if we’re to achieve our aim for the night.’ And nodded towards the departing couple’s backs.

‘She was flirting with you,’ Rachel pointed out indignantly.

‘So? That was good, wasn’t it? It’ll make Eric the Mongrel jealous and insecure.’

‘I was afraid you might be liking it.’

‘I was. But not the way you’re thinking. I wouldn’t touch that cold-blooded bitch in a million years. God, Rachel, you don’t know me very well if you’d think that.’

‘But I don’t know you very well, do I? You have an unexpectedly wicked streak in you, Justin McCarthy. Yet before tonight I thought you were…um—er—er…’ She struggled to find a word other than ‘nice’.

‘Staid?’ he suggested drily. ‘Boring?’

‘No! Never boring. Maybe a little staid. No, you’re not really staid, either. Oh, I don’t know what I mean. I guess I just didn’t think you’d ever conceive of something so devious as to make them think we’re lovers even whilst you’re claiming we aren’t. That was incredibly conniving of you, and manipulative.’

‘If you can’t beat ’em, then join ’em, Rachel. People like Eric and Charlotte are devious, and conniving, and manipulative. They’re also shallow and selfish and truly wicked. They don’t care who they hurt or betray. All they care about is themselves and what suits them at the time. If you think I’m the first man Charlotte has flirted with, then think again. She hasn’t been faithful to your Eric, nor he with her. That’s the way they both are.’

‘Maybe, but not everyone is like that, Justin,’ she pointed out, unwilling to embrace the self-destructive philosophy of total cynicism. Isabel had been like that with men for ages, till she met Rafe. And, really, Rachel hadn’t admired that about her one bit. She was a much nicer person now that she was living her life with love and hope in her heart.

‘True,’ Justin said, his gaze softening momentarily on her. ‘Some people are decent and kind. But the two people we were unfortunate enough to fall in love with weren’t. Eric treated you abominably, Rachel. And he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it!’

Rachel stared up into her boss’s bitter blue eyes and realised he wasn’t only talking about Eric. He was talking—and thinking—about his wife. Justin was deeply wounded.

Rachel wanted to ask him about his wife and what she’d done to him, but knew it was not the right time, or the right place. For one thing, his wounds were still way too raw. Maybe there would never be a right time or a right place. Maybe he’d loved her far too much, and would never get over her.

At least she had the comfort of knowing she no longer loved Eric. Seeing him again tonight had at least proved that to her once and for all. He might be successful and superficially handsome, but ‘handsome is as handsome does’, she’d discovered first-hand this evening. He was welcome to the likes of Charlotte. They were made for each other, in her opinion.

‘Promise me you won’t flirt with Charlotte when we finally get to that dinner?’ she asked.

Justin laughed. ‘I promise. But you shouldn’t worry about me, you know, Rachel. I can take care of myself where female vampires are concerned. How are you doing, meeting up with lover-boy again? Does he still turn you on with those smooth, golden looks of his?’

‘God, no.’ She half laughed, half shuddered. ‘No, not at all.’

‘I suspect he still has the hots for you.’

She blushed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

Justin frowned. ‘You think it’s ridiculous for a man to have the hots for you, especially the way you look tonight?’

‘Well, no… I mean…yes… I mean… Look, I still can’t compare with Charlotte. She’s one seriously sexy lady.’

‘She’s about as sexy to me as a dead skunk.’

Rachel was startled. ‘Really?’

‘Really. But to ease your concern I will consign all of my flirting for the rest of the evening to yours truly. Make Eric the Mongrel’s teeth gnash some more.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Mmm. Twenty to eight. Look, let’s go to that main bar you mentioned, where I’m supposed to be meeting the mysterious Mr Wong. We can fill in the time till eight with a couple of pre-dinner drinks.’

Rachel bit her bottom lip. ‘Oh, I—er—made that up about the main bar as well. I have no idea if there is such a place.’

Justin grinned. ‘And you said I had an unexpectedly wicked streak in me. I think you’re the one who has the unexpectedly wicked streak, Ms Witherspoon. Come on, we’ll go ask at Reception where the bars are located. They have to have at least one or two in a place this size.’

They had three, one connected with the a` la carte restaurant on the mezzanine level, one on the first floor in the disco-till-you-drop room and a third up on the top floor, which had a more sedate dance floor and a view to die for, or so the clerk behind the desk said. It also wasn’t open to the public, just the clientele of Sunshine Gardens and their guests.

Ten minutes later they were sitting at a table on an open-air terrace, sipping Margaritas by moonlight and drinking in that view to die for, which was spectacular, even at night. Most of the buildings along the foreshore were lit up, outlining the curved sweep of the coastline for as far as the eye could see. The night air was still and balmy, with Rachel’s bare arms and shoulders not proving a problem.

‘This is so lovely,’ she said with a wistful sigh. ‘But we won’t have time for a second drink. Not if you want us to make that dinner on time.’

Actually, she hated the thought of going down to that dinner now. As much as she’d enjoyed her moment of vengeance in the lift, she didn’t want to keep pretending she and Justin were lovers, or to have Justin acting like some sleazebag boss who couldn’t keep his hands off her. She knew he meant well, but in a way it was demeaning for him to act out of character like that.

‘What if I said we’d skip the presentation dinner entirely, and order some food to have right here?’ he startled her by suggesting. ‘They do serve light meals. They’re listed on the other side of the drinks menu.’

‘But don’t you have to go to the dinner?’

‘It’s not strictly essential. They’re making a video of the promotional presentation after the dinner for potential buyers who couldn’t make it tonight. I’ll buy a copy in the morning and view it when I get home tomorrow night, in case there’s anything remotely informative in it, which is doubtful.’

‘But what about Eric and Charlotte?’

‘What about them? You said you didn’t give a toss about Eric any more.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Well, then we’ve done what we set out to do,’ he said. ‘Made Eric the Mongrel see you’ve survived without him. Also made him see he gave up a truly fine and, might I say, very attractive lady for a total bitch like Charlotte. Frankly, it could prove a more successful and devious strategy not showing up to the dinner at all. Eric will stew over the thought that I’ve whisked you back up to our room for a long night of hot sex, and darling Charlotte will worry her material little heart out that my mysterious Mr Wong might be some mega-rich businessman from Singapore who’ll bid more for Sunshine Gardens than the ego-maniacal fool she’s representing. Your revenge is already complete, Rachel. Why risk spoiling it?’

‘But…’

‘You have a penchant for buts, Rachel. There are no buts in this case, not even business buts. I guarantee I won’t get into trouble over not going to that dinner. I made my own private enquiries around town today and I won’t be recommending that AWI buy this place, anyway. Reliable sources tell me the occupancy rate here is way down, except in peak tourist season, and even then not a patch on a couple of their nearby competitors. Another little birdie told me that, despite the quality of the building and the décor, the management here is less than the best and staff turnover is very high.’

‘What reliable sources? What little birdie?’

‘The people who live here in Coolangatta, and work here. Shop owners. Suppliers. Taxi drivers. They have no reason to lie, whereas the present owners of Sunshine Gardens have every reason to misrepresent the truth.’

‘I see.’

‘So what do you say? We miss the dinner and stay up here?’

‘Yes, please,’ Rachel said eagerly as relief overwhelmed her.

Justin smiled his own pleasure at the change of plan. ‘We’ll order a bottle of wine with our dinner,’ he suggested on picking up the menu. ‘And then we might have a dance or two. That dress has dancing written all over it.’

Rachel’s heart jolted. She hadn’t danced in years. The last time had been with Eric, the week before he’d broken off with her, and the day before she found out the awful news about Lettie. They’d been to a Christmas party and she’d got very tipsy on the punch. He’d whispered hot words of love and desire in her ears whilst he danced with her, holding her very close, making her want him to put his words into action. When she’d been beyond resisting him he’d whisked her into the bathroom and made love to her up against the door.

Or so she’d thought at the time. Now she knew he hadn’t been making love at all. He’d just been having sex. Because he’d never really loved her.

‘I…I haven’t danced in years,’ she said, her voice shaking a little at the memory. As much as she no longer loved Eric, the damage he’d perpetrated on her female psyche was still there.

‘You didn’t dance at your friend’s wedding?’ Justin asked on a note of surprise.

‘No.’

‘Why not? I’ll bet you were asked in that dress.’

‘Yes, I was.’

‘Why did you say no?’

‘I…I just didn’t want to.’ In truth, she’d felt far too emotionally fragile at the time to do something as potentially destructive as dance with a man. When she’d watched the bride and groom dance their first dance together she’d been consumed with a pain so sharp, and a misery so deep, she’d fled into a powder room—one of her favourite escapes—and cried for ages.

Justin frowned. ‘This has something to do with Eric the Mongrel, hasn’t it?’

Her smile was sad. ‘How did you guess?’

‘You told him in the lift you’d moved on, Rachel. And you told me just now he no longer mattered to you. I think it’s time you put your feet where your mouth is. You’re going to dance with me tonight and I don’t want to hear another word about it. I won’t take no for an answer.’

‘Yes, boss,’ she said, rather amused by his tough-guy attitude. It was so un-Justin. Same as with his earlier pretending to be a sleazebag boss.

‘That’s a very good phrase,’ he pronounced firmly. ‘Practise saying it.’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘Again.’

She laughed. ‘Yes, boss.’

He grinned. ‘By George, she’s got it!’