CHAPTER TWELVE
JUDD surveyed his new office, filled with a strange sense of pride. He’d never thought he’d see the day when he gave up his travelling lifestyle and took up roots in one city again. Then again he hadn’t banked on becoming so besotted with Abby that he couldn’t see straight half the time, let alone think.
He clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in the leather ergonomic chair, wondering how she’d react when she heard Mark’s news. Knowing Abby as he did, she’d probably tear strips off the guy. He knew how much she loved her job and Mark’s offer would be too good to refuse, but considering whom she’d be working with one-on-one.
Smiling, he glanced at his watch. She should be here any moment and Mark had said he’d send her in to see him once he’d presented the offer to her.
Oh, yeah, there would definitely be fireworks and, lucky for him, he’d have a ringside seat.
She might be singing the ‘let’s just be friends’ tune, but he had every intention of changing her mind, starting with a celebratory dinner to toast their new working relationship. Maybe if he was really, really lucky, she’d wear those sexy red shoes.
His body tightened in response as an image of Abby, standing in his hotel room wearing lacy briefs, those hot shoes and a smile flashed across his mind.
Yep, no doubt about it, he had to talk sense into her and ditch the platonic plan she’d worked out. Either that or face a year of icy-cold showers, which wasn’t fair considering Australia was in the grip of a drought and he should be conserving water. And never let it be said he didn’t do his part for the environment.
‘Knock, knock. Got time for your boss?’
He sat up and automatically adjusted his tie as Mark Pyman entered the room. For a CEO of a huge media conglomerate he appeared surprisingly laid-back and lacked the formality he’d expected.
‘Come in, Mark. What can I do for you?’
Mark barged across the room and took a seat. ‘This office okay?’
‘Yeah, no probs.’
‘Good.’ Mark nodded, sent his BlackBerry a glare as it beeped and slid it back into his pocket. ‘We didn’t get around to finalising the length of your contract earlier. I was thinking a year to start, see how it suits us both?’
Judd struggled not to squirm in his chair. Twelve months wasn’t a huge amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but for a guy who’d spent the last eight years moving around it sounded like a life sentence.
Crazy, considering this was what he wanted: a chance to settle down for a bit, to see where his life was headed, to give Abby and him a chance, but having it spelled out in contract terms put a different slant on proceedings.
‘A year sounds fair, but considering I haven’t done fashion work before, could we leave the time frame open-ended? Until I find my feet, see if it’s a good fit for us both?’
Mark fixed him with a glare somewhere between disbelief and admiration. ‘Finesse contracts aren’t usually open-ended. You’re not jerking me around? Or planning to leave me in the lurch?’
‘No way. I’m looking forward to the challenge of working here. I just don’t want to be tied into anything long-term. Call it a personal phobia.’
Mark paused and Judd could almost sense the wheels turning in his head before the CEO said, ‘This is highly unusual but I’m trusting my gut instinct here and taking a chance you won’t let me down.’ He stood and headed for the door, a grim expression on his face. ‘Make sure you don’t.’
‘I won’t,’ he said, but Mark had already left the room, hitting buttons on his BlackBerry as he stalked down the corridor.
This couldn’t get much better.
He had a crack at a new job in a city he loved with a woman who’d come to mean more to him than he could’ve possibly imagined. And he wasn’t tied into anything so if it didn’t work out, he could do as he’d always done.
Leave.
However, that wasn’t on the agenda, not if he had any say in it. Especially if Abby came to the party as he hoped.
∗ ∗ ∗
Abby stepped out of Mark’s office, her head spinning.
When he’d said there’d be a ‘huge deal’ if Sapphire Island went well, he hadn’t been kidding.
For a freelance fashion stylist to be offered every big job Finesse had for the next two years was a dream come true. Not to mention the fact she wouldn’t be tied into any long-term contracts so she could still freelance, too.
She could hardly believe it and normally she would’ve jumped at the chance. However, accepting the opportunity of a lifetime came with strings attached, huge strings, tied up in one giant bow around Judd Calloway’s neck.
Mark had left her in little doubt that Judd was a coup to Finesse and she’d be working closely with him if she accepted.
If she accepted … Damn, how could she refuse? Her job had always meant everything to her. So what if she’d been dumb enough to fall for Judd? She’d already told him they could be friends only. Given a little time, she was sure they’d slip back into their old camaraderie.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the last door on the left where Judd had his new office, according to Mark. She had to get this over and done with, make sure he understood exactly where they stood.
She’d barely had time to tug her favourite Dolce and Gabbana white suit jacket down before the door opened.
‘Hey, I’ve been expecting you. Welcome to my new digs.’
Judd stepped aside and waved his arm in a flourish, while she fixed a smile on her face, wishing her traitorous body would calm down. The minute she’d caught sight of him wearing a charcoal pinstriped designer suit, of all things, her heart had flip-flopped, her pulse had thundered and a quick-fire heat she’d been sure she’d conquered and left behind on the island flowed through her body like molten magma.
‘Nice,’ she said, stepping into the office with its postcard view of Sydney Harbour, funky stainless-steel desk and matching ergonomic chairs.
Very minimalist, very sleek and so unlike anything she’d ever pictured the Judd she knew would go for.
‘So you’ve had a chat with Mark?’
‘Uh-huh.’
Perching on the end of his desk, she tried to act as if being offered her dream job—with her dream guy, ironically—happened every day.
‘What do you think? I assume you’re going to take it?’
He tried to look nonchalant and failed miserably, his steady gaze unwavering.
‘It’s a great opportunity. I’d be a fool to pass it up.’
His face lit up and he let out an excited whoop. ‘That’s great.’
Crossing the room to perch next to her, his thigh brushing hers and sending tiny electric shocks up her stocking-clad leg, he captured her hand before she could move. ‘We’re going to be working very closely together. Very closely.’
She should’ve snatched her hand out of his the moment his voice dipped to a husky murmur. Instead, she sat there like a dummy, frozen, immobile, while he raised her hand to his lips and branded her palm with a hot, lingering kiss.
The type of bone-melting kiss that sent electricity sizzling through her body at a rate of knots, the feel of his warm lips a poignant reminder of what they’d shared on the island, of what they could never have again.
‘Not that closely,’ she said, wrenching her hand out of his and crossing to the window to put some much-needed distance between them.
He didn’t move, his casual stance screaming confidence, and she wondered what it would take to get through to him.
‘After what happened on the island, I’m not buying this “let’s just be friends” thing anymore. It doesn’t make sense considering how great we are together. The Abby I know is always up for a challenge, so what are you going to do about it?’
Abby gnawed on her bottom lip, knowing only one thing would get through to him, but all too aware that in telling him the truth she might drive an irreversible wedge in their friendship for ever.
&nb
sp; ‘Give it to me straight, Weiss.’
The moment she heard him call her by her surname, slipping into old familiarity, she knew she owed him the truth. Either way, it would settle this once and for all.
‘I’m not willing to take a chance on a relationship with you because I know where it will end, with you running out on me and me picking up the pieces of a broken heart. Again.’
He paled beneath his tan. ‘Again? What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You honestly don’t have a clue, do you?’
Realisation dawned and he took a step towards her before thinking better of it. ‘You had feelings for me when we were teenagers?’
She nodded, biting down on her bottom lip till she tasted blood, not willing to blab the rest of the truth to him, that ‘feelings’ was a poor substitute for how much she loved him, had always loved him.
‘Hell.’
He ran his hand over his face, as if trying to erase the mistakes of the past. If only it were that easy.
‘I didn’t know. I thought we were just fooling around that night, a couple of kids experimenting. You never said anything …’
And she’d kept her silence ever since, bottling up her feelings all these years, not admitting she’d never got over her first kiss, her first love if she were completely honest.
‘What could I say? We were both young and I had no idea if you felt the same way I did. Besides, you had places to go, things to do. You were my best friend and I didn’t want to stop you, to rob you of your dreams.’
‘You did that for me?’
His tenderness was almost her undoing as she struggled not to blurt out the rest.
‘Of course. That’s what friends do. They put the other person’s feelings ahead of their own, no matter how much it hurts.’
She paused and balled her hands to stop from reaching out to him. ‘But not anymore. This time I’m taking care of me.’
He reached out to her, but she held up her hands and he stopped. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry you had to go through all that, but this time, will be different. I’m not planning on going anywhere any time soon.’
‘That’s what you say now, but how do you know?’
She shook her head, hating the devastation in his eyes, hating the pain splintering her heart into tiny pieces. ‘Moving around is a part of who you are and I won’t want to lose you again, especially if we’re involved in a relationship. And if we do give it a go either you’ll feel stifled and end up resenting me, or I’ll feel guilty for being the reason you’re sticking around when you’d rather go. Ultimately we both lose and when you eventually leave, because you will, I’ll be left to pick up the pieces all over again and I can’t do it. I won’t do it. I’m not strong enough.’
There, she’d articulated her fears, had come clean about her real feelings, but instead of a weight lifting off her shoulders, she’d never felt so shattered.
‘All I’m asking for is a chance.’
She heard a hint of desperation in his voice and, suddenly, anger replaced her pain. Why was he doing this to her? She’d been honest with him, had hoped he’d get the message once and for all.
In a blinding flash, she knew how to get through to him, to ram her point home.
‘You want a chance? Well, then, tell me how long you’re planning on sticking around.’
The second his glance wavered from hers, she knew she’d won. Then why did it feel as if he’d ripped her heart out all over again and she was the biggest loser ever?
His lips set in a stubborn line before he replied, ‘I’m not planning on going anywhere.’
Determined to end this before she started blubbering, she said, ‘How long is your contract for?’
He stiffened and thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘What’s that got to do with us?’
‘Everything. How long?’
Defeat dulled the gleam in his hazel eyes. ‘It’s open-ended.’
Hating how her heart sank when he’d already managed to break it without trying, she said, ‘Let me guess. Your idea, not Mark’s.’
His barely perceptible nod was all the confirmation she needed.
‘Well, then, there’s your answer.’
She stalked across the room, her stilettos clicking against the polished floorboards, short, sharp sounds echoing in the room, reinforcing the empty echo in her heart.
‘You’re wrong about me.’
Abby knew that tone; Judd had it down pat and used it to great affect when he wanted to get rid of someone he didn’t like or was unable to resolve an unsolvable problem.
She’d first heard it way back in high school when he’d taken on the biggest bully and won without using his fists. Who needed to resort to violence when the right tone, combined with clever words, could cut someone down to size much quicker? Or when he couldn’t figure out the answer to a complex issue?
Pausing at the door, she turned to face him. ‘Am I wrong? Really?’
Without waiting for an answer, she walked out, wishing she had the guts to slam it as she’d just slammed the door on any chance they ever had of a future.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ABBY lay the magazine across her desk, pleased with how the photo shoot had turned out. The designers who had paid big money to have their clothes featured in Finesse‘s Sapphire Island shoot would be blown away with the results.
Usually, seeing the finished product of a shoot where she’d had major input gave her a huge boost, not to mention a sense of satisfaction, but not his time.
As she stared at the pictures of Tara modelling the stunning summer outfits, and tried not to dwell on the incredible bridal shots of her and Judd, pain wound its fingers around her heart and squeezed hard. Even now, a week later, she couldn’t forget the look in his eyes when she’d walked out of his office, his pain a mirror image of her own.
Yet it had to be done and now she’d given her final answer to Mark, she needed to move on and concentrate on her career. A career without Finesse’s lucrative offer.
She couldn’t do it: spend countless hours working side by side with the guy she loved, trying to maintain a professional façade. It would be hard enough catching up socially as friends considering the gulf that had opened between them, and sadly, she had a feeling they’d never recapture the old Calloway/Weiss magic.
‘Ready to go?’
Tara stuck her head around the door, looking way too bright and bubbly for the mood Abby was in.
Nodding, Abby picked up her Hermes bag and pointed at the latest copy of Finesse. ‘Have you seen the spread yet?’
‘Sure have. It’s sensational. But then I’d expect nothing less from working with a couple of pros like you and the dreamboat.’
Abby muttered a noncommittal answer, grabbed her keys and headed for the door.
‘Don’t worry about keys. I’ll drive.’
‘Since when do you drive when scouting locations?’
‘Since now.’ Tara poked her tongue out and slung an arm around Abby’s shoulders. ‘Come on. It’ll do you good to sit back and relax, take in some of the scenery. You’re looking like a misery guts these days and I can’t stand it.’
‘Don’t look, then,’ she said, hating that Tara was right. She couldn’t stand her reflection in the mirror most mornings, considering her eyes were dull, her hair lacklustre and her skin pasty.
Not a good look for a fashion stylist and, considering she’d turned Mark down, she needed to get her butt into gear before her business went down the tubes along with her love life.
While Tara hummed an old Bobby McFerrin tune, the lyrics along the lines of not worrying and being happy, Abby made a conscious decision to stop wallowing. She needed to get back into the game and focusing on work was a sure-fire way to do it.
‘Speaking of the dreamboat, he’s the photographer on this shoot.’
‘What?’ She stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed Tara’s arm. ‘But he works for Finesse full-time. How can he be doing this one?’
>
Tara tapped the side of her nose and winked. ‘Special assignment, apparently.’
‘Just great,’ Abby muttered, releasing her grip and giving Tara an apologetic rub when the model winced.
‘Thought you should know, as he’ll probably be checking out the location, too.’
Her heart sinking, Abby mustered a smile despite her misgivings. ‘Thanks for the heads up. And it shouldn’t be a problem. We’re both professionals.’
Now all she had to do was act like it.
Judd glanced at the large green sign telling him exactly how far it was to his destination, mentally counting down the kilometres as he had ever since he’d left Sydney’s Central Business District, the monotonous activity keeping his mind focused on the job ahead rather than mentally rehearsing what he’d say to Abby when he saw her.
The last week had been hell.
By turning down her dream job at Finesse she’d made her feelings more than clear and after she’d ignored his initial calls he’d finally realised there was nothing he could do to broach the gap that had opened up between them and made a conscious decision to leave her alone.
At least his work had proved to be fulfilling. Despite his early doubts about working for a magazine, Finesse was a class act, more than living up to its reputation as one of Australia’s top magazines. He’d thrived on every challenge so far, throwing himself headlong into long hours, anything to take his mind off Abby. Unfortunately, work inevitably reminded him of her and he would’ve given anything to share their mutual professional success together.
Perhaps after today he’d get that chance?
Patting the inside pocket of his jacket for the hundredth time that morning, he sure hoped so.
As the car ate up the few remaining kilometres, he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, trying to forget the last time he’d seen her.
Forget? Who was he trying to kid? Every time he closed his eyes the image of their last encounter would materialise, flashing across his mind in a hazy kaleidoscope of painful memories. Her coolness, her stricken expression when he’d confirmed he hadn’t signed a fixed contract, her pain when she’d revealed how much she’d cared for him before …
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