Broken Dreams Boxset

by Rebecca Barber

  “Could I ask who’s calling?”

  Already, she was irritating me. I’m sure she was just doing her job and following the script written in front of her, but for some reason it just pissed me off. Why did I have to explain myself to her?

  “It’s Gillian Dempsey,” I retorted.

  “And Ms. Dempsey, can I ask what it is regarding?” she chirped.

  I pictured her in my mind and it was definitely not complimentary. “Regarding the sale of my property.”

  “Just a moment, I’ll see if he is available.” At that point Madeline must have pressed a button and the most annoying hold music came on. It was the sort of music you hear as you enter the big top at the circus. “I’m sorry, Mr. Matthews is tied up at the moment. Can I take a message?”

  Now I was really pissed off. Tied up my ass; he was avoiding me. “Tell him if he does not contact me within the next three hours, I will withdraw my properties from the market and take my business elsewhere.”

  I heard Madeline gulp. I hoped I was intimidating her. I hoped she was scared of passing the message along. Even though I knew it wasn’t her fault that I was a dirty, desperate tramp who couldn’t keep my hands off the sexy real estate agent, it didn’t tone down my frustrations.

  “Can…m-may I get your contact number?” she stammered, clearly shaken.

  After giving her my mobile, I thanked her, hoping that she wouldn’t bear the brunt of Joel’s anger in my place. I would have quite happily told him what I thought, but he was too chicken shit to talk to me like an adult, so poor, innocent Madeline had copped it.

  The hours passed without a word. By four that afternoon, irritated had given way to pure rage. I couldn’t believe that he was such a self-important arsehole that he couldn’t even return a client’s phone call. I mean, he had a fancy car and a nice house, so he must be nice to some clients to have that sort of success, but obviously not the ones he fucked.

  With only fifteen minutes left of the work day, I called the office again. This time Madeline, already wary of me, informed me that Joel was in a meeting and she’d pass on my message. This time I managed to remember that it wasn’t Madeline who was at fault, and didn’t throw my tantrum at her.

  By Friday I was fuming. Not only was my entire body aching from my newly enforced exercise regime, but I still hadn’t heard from Joel. This time I wasn’t going to give in or play nicely. I called his mobile. The fourth call, he answered.

  “Hello,” he spat rudely. “Joel! This is Gillian,”

  “Yes, what can I do for you now, Gillian?” he asked dismissively. I could tell he was pissed, but I didn’t give a flying fuck. He didn’t get to make me the bad guy this time. He knew what we were doing. If he’d have wanted to stop it, he could’ve. But he didn’t.

  “A return call would be a nice start,” I snapped back.

  “Look, Gillian,” I heard him clear his throat. “We are NOT in a relationship. For God’s sakes! Grow up and stop calling my office. I don’t have to answer to you.” His raised voice was powerful and slightly intimidating.

  On the other end of the phone I knew instantly that he meant every word he said, but I didn’t care. “Actually, Joel, you do. I employed you. I have a contract signed stating that you work for me. I retained your services and on completion of your work you will be remunerated.” I felt smart. Not cocky, just right. I was even surprised at myself that I was able to use all the words I wanted to and they made sense as they came out. I hadn’t faltered.

  I heard him let out a deep breath. As much as it pained him, we both knew he had nowhere to go, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Well then. If that’s the way you want to play it. Your unit will be in tomorrow’s paper and open for exhibition tomorrow and Sunday. The house, as previously discussed, won’t hit the market until the tenants vacate in approximately four weeks and repairs have been done. Does that satisfy all of your questions, Ms. Dempsey?”

  “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, Joel? I need their name and number. Thank you.”

  I heard him muttering under his breath but couldn’t make out the words. “My boss is John McMasters,” he mumbled, before regurgitating a number.

  “Thank you. 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 on it. It wasn’t like I wanted to ruin his career, but as someone paying him thousands of dollars to do a job, I deserved better than to be spoken to like that.

  Satisfied with the outcome and slightly chuffed with myself for not being overly emotional, I collapsed onto the lounge. Although it was a Friday night, I had begged off another night of dancing and drinking. 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 favourite grey sweat pants, and an oversize jumper with a stain from something straight down the middle.

  I’d barely 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 fact it was Friday night, I could still tell he had only just finished work.

  “Hi,” I mumbled, still completely shocked. 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’ve been an arse all week. I knew you called. My receptionist gave me your messages. And I know that I’d promised to call and let you know what was going on, but I didn’t want to have the complicated conversation.” Once he managed to start talking it came with a flourish. “Here,” he said, handing me a bottle of 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. I guess I didn’t really think it through,” he admitted. I was secretly amused at his awkwardness.

  We just stood there for a moment staring at the ground. While I pretended to read the label and Joel pretended to look out across the complex. Unable to stand the silence any longer, I asked, “Would you like to come in for a glass? 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 he didn’t trust himself to. Me, I wasn’t concerned. If we ended up tangled in the sheets, I was okay with that. Beside the fact that he was the most beautiful person I’d ever laid eyes on he was also unbelievable in bed.

  “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 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 inside. I wished I’d 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 longer than they should’ve. 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. 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 second-hand furniture. The cupboards were lined with photos and knick knacks. 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 picked up photo after photo. His eyebrows raised over some while sadness crinkled his brow over others.

  When he sat down next to me, the silence that consumed us was dangerous. I could feel the sexual tension filling the gap between us. In an attempt to calm my nerves, I downed the rest of my glass of wine.

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

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

  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, Joel called out, “Need a hand?”

  “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.

  Walking back into the lounge room, the sight before me wasn’t something I was expecting. Joel had made himself comfortable in my home and it did things to me it probably shouldn’t have. I know I’d invited him to do so, but to see him with his shoes kicked off, tie draped over the arm of the chair, was simply intoxicating. Handing him his wine, I took extra care to keep my fingers to myself. I knew if I let myself, I could see us easily slipping back in the same situation we found ourselves the other morning.

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

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

  “Because this is my place 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 thing. Instead, he just slowly put his glass on the floor next to him and reached for the blanket hanging on the back of the lounge. When he spread it over my legs I almost died of shock. He was being so sweet.

  Quietly he got up, placed his glass back in the kitchen, and then stood next to the TV. “I should head out. 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 waved his apology away.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow after the exhibition and let you know how it went. Hopefully it will be good news. Just think, it might even be 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 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 two weeks ago he’d dotted my neck with black hickies and now he was standing in my doorway, the cold air blasting us both, shaking my hand like we had just completed a 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. “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 off balance. Suddenly he pulled me towards him out and into his arms. I melted against him. As his tongue slipped between my lips, 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 inside.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GILLIAN

  As the sun crept through the curtains I rolled away from its rude 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 out from under his arm and crept into the bathroom. Brushing my teeth, a million thoughts skittered around 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 right now. I jumped in the shower and tried to force the thoughts from my head.

  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 echoing through the apartment. Rushing, I pulled on the first pair of jeans and hoodie I found.

  As I stumbled into the kitchen, I saw something that took my breath away. Joel was standing in my kitchen, wearing his white business shirt, the buttons undone 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. This time, I felt full of 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 cheek.

  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’d be able to…” His face was deadpan. My pulse was racing. My hands were trembling. “…use your shower?” he finished. I wanted to jum
p over the kitchen bench and throttle him.

  “Only if I can have another pancake,” I teased as he piled more on my plate before setting his plate down next to mine.

  We sat there eating for a while and reading the paper, silently passing the individual sections back and forth between us. 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 wished the ground would crack open and swallow me whole. I sounded so pathetic, so clingy. 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 had me 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 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.