by Joss Wood
Willa’s eyes sparkled with delight and she wiggled in her seat like a puppy waiting for a milk bone. ‘I’ve got a job.’
Amy whooped her delight and Kate, far more controlled, squeezed her hand.
Leaning across the table, Jessica high-fived her. ‘That’s fantastic, Willa. I’m so happy for you...’
‘With who? When do you start?’ Kate demanded.
‘Rob’s accountant had to fly back home for a family emergency and Rob said that I can take over.’ Willa’s words bubbled like champagne. ‘And there’s so much to do... He’s just handed everything financial over to—’
Willa looked around the suddenly sombre faces and frowned. It was as if someone had just tossed an icy bucket of water over her friends and they were less than amused.
‘What’s the matter?’
Amy looked at Kate, who lifted her eyebrows in response. Neither of them said anything.
‘Okay, you guys are starting to scare me,’ Willa said, her hand on her heart. ‘Two seconds ago you were happy for me and now you’re exchanging what-the-hell-has-she-done? looks across the table.’
Amy took a sip of her wine and waited until their perky waitress had placed Willa’s mojito in front of her and left before speaking again. ‘When you said you had a job we thought you meant a real job.’
Excuse me? What? ‘A real job? Sorting out Rob’s company finances is a hell of a job, thank you very much.’
‘It’s a job with someone you’re sleeping with,’ Amy murmured.
‘Is he actually paying you?’ Jessica asked baldly before Willa could respond.
‘Uh...’ They hadn’t actually discussed that. She hoped so, but frankly she’d work for free to get the experience she so desperately needed.
Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Hell, Willa, have I taught you nothing about protecting yourself?’
Willa frowned, not really understanding how she’d coloured outside the lines. ‘I’ve lost you.’
‘Rob is sleeping with you and you’re now working for him as well? If you tell me that you’re cooking for him and doing his laundry I will slap you,’ Amy told her. ‘Look, don’t get me wrong, I like Rob—but he’s not a keeper. What are you getting out of what looks to be a very one-sided relationship?’
‘Good sex?’ Willa quipped. ‘Oh, lighten up, all of you, I’m not a complete idiot! Firstly, it’s not a relationship...we’re having fun together as long as he is in the country. There are no expectations on either side.’
Under the table, Willa crossed her legs.
‘As for me working for him—even if it wasn’t the most challenging work I’ve done...ever!...I’d be a fool not to do it because I am out of options. When Rob goes I can put working for him on my CV—show that I have the experience people keep telling me I need to get a decent job. That’s golden, girls. I am not doing this to make him happy. I’m doing it because it benefits me.’
Amy still didn’t look convinced. ‘You’re not the type to keep it light and fluffy, Wills.’
‘Trust me—I’ve learnt. I’m not the naïve innocent you used to know, Amy. I’m a bit wiser, I hope. I’m not stupid enough to hand over my heart again for someone to stomp on it. Besides, Rob would tell me to put it away and stop looking for hearts and flowers.’
‘Good girl.’ Kate nodded. ‘As long as you’re thinking with your head and not your va-jay-jay.’
‘God, Kate,’ Jessica muttered, after choking on her sip of wine. ‘What an expression!’
‘My grandma heard it on TV and now she uses it all the time. She says it’s only fair that if men think with their penises then woman think with their...you know. Good for goose and gander and all that,’ Kate explained.
‘Your grandma sounds like a hoot,’ Willa said, glad to have the spotlight off her.
‘She and my mother were the original bra-burner and hippy chick. They constantly give me stick because I’m not fighting for the cause...’
‘You’re a brilliant family lawyer,’ Willa protested.
‘That I am,’ Kate agreed. ‘And a better divorce lawyer.’
Divorce—nearly there. The Pain...the party... Willa remembered where she had to be tonight and winced.
‘You’re pulling a face,’ Kate muttered. ‘Why are you pulling a face? What’s happened? What’s the matter?’
‘Geez, take a tranq, Kate,’ Willa told her. ‘It’s just that I have to attend a party tonight and Wayne-the-Pain will be there. I so don’t want to go.’
‘So don’t go,’ Jessica said, looking at the menu.
‘That’s what Rob said.’ She wished she could see the world in black and white, as they seemed to, but for some reason her world held every shade of grey.
‘You said that you’ve broken ties with Wayne’s group. Why this function?’ Amy asked. ‘And, more importantly, should I have a beef or chicken burrito?’
Willa waited while her friends placed their food orders before explaining why she felt she had to attend, stirring her untouched mojito with her finger. ‘I said I’d go, Kate. I know that you didn’t want me to have any contact with Wayne, but—’
‘Willa, that was when we were first negotiating your divorce. The divorce papers are signed and lodged with the court now. They just need to go through the process. There’s no going back from what we’ve negotiated. You could sleep together again and nothing would change.’
Willa mimed shoving a finger down her throat.
‘So, are you going to go on your own or are you going to take Hot and Sexy with you?’ Amy asked.
‘He offered to come with me. Thank God. Because while I’m still dreading going, I’m dreading it marginally less.’
Kate placed her hand on her shoulder and squeezed. ‘Wayne is not worth a minute of your time. Go tonight, be fabulous, act confident and look happy.’
‘I am happy,’ Willa stated, and the truth of that knowledge resonated deep inside her. And not only because she had a sexy man rumpling her sheets but because she felt like Willa—like herself. Not her father’s princess, or Wayne’s wife, or Luke’s sister...just Willa. Young, strong, healthy, smart.
Willa.
Maybe she was starting to like who she was now. No, she did like who she was now...and wasn’t that the best feeling in the world? Ever?
* * *
Dressed in a black suit, white shirt and a black tie—the closest he was ever going to get to a monkey suit—Rob stood in the kitchen and waited for Willa to come downstairs, a glass of red wine in his hands.
Dickied up and looking fly was not the way he wanted to spend his Saturday night...and normally it would take a gun to his head to get him to do something he didn’t want to do... Yet here he was, prepared to play Willa’s protector, her knight in a sharp black suit.
What was with that? He was nobody’s white knight. He didn’t want to play the role. He’d failed once in that role before. Which begged the question...why her? Why now?
Willa had come back from lunch sounding chipper, but as the afternoon had worn on and evening had approached she’d got quieter and more distant and he’d become...annoyed.
‘Why are you going if you’re dreading it so much?’ he’d demanded, fed up with her silences. ‘Why do you want to put yourself in that position? Just to say thank you to some people who were once nice to you? Send them a card, for God’s sake!’
Willa’s eyes had met his and they’d blazed bright. ‘Obviously you’ve never felt less than unnoticed, lacking. But I have. And I am going to that party and I am going to hold my head up high and show them that I am not the wimpy wife they all thought I was. I do not want their last impression of me to be that quiet, insecure woman who was so easily dismissed. And I’ll do it with or without you.’
His annoyance had faded after that as he’d realised how much guts it was goin
g to take for her to walk into that room, filled with people who’d always dismissed her. This party was more than just making an appearance. It was her way to say goodbye to her old life, to walk away from those people and her waste-of-space ex with her head held high. She needed to go for her own pride and self-respect. He understood pride and self-respect and he appreciated Willa’s courage.
His girl would be fine, Rob thought. Just the fact that she was doing this when it would be a lot easier not to told him that she was a stronger character than she realised.
“Respect, Willa.”
Rob heard the click-clack of Willa’s heels against the tiles and turned to look at her. The saliva dried up in his mouth. Dear God, she looked amazing. Like her eyes, her dress was silver shot through with green, clinging to her slim frame like a second skin. Thin cords held the dress up, crossed over her shoulders.
Rob lifted his finger and traced their outline. Willa obediently turned and his blood rushed out of his brain as he saw that the cords criss-crossed her smooth bare back to hold the fabric on either side of those back dimples he loved to kiss.
‘How the hell did you get into that?’ he asked.
‘With difficulty,’ Willa answered on a smile. ‘Like it?’
‘Hell, no—I love it and I can’t wait to get you out of it,’ Rob replied, taking a big sip of wine to lubricate his throat and to rehydrate his mouth. It didn’t work. ‘Want a drink?’
‘Do we have time?’ Willa asked, placing her silver clutch on the kitchen counter.
‘Some. Besides, a dress like that deserves a late entrance. You look stunning.’
‘Thank you. You don’t look too shabby yourself.’
Willa took the half-glass of wine he held out and took a small sip.
‘Why am I doing this, Rob?’
‘You’re taking back your self-respect,’ Rob told her. ‘That’s always a fight worth fighting. Always, Willa. I wish I could...’
Respect myself again. Like myself again.
That one decision so long ago had changed everything.
Shut up, Hanson.
God! He’d never told anyone about his mother’s disastrous second marriage, the part he’d played in it.
Willa cocked her head, her smoky eyes pinning him to the floor. ‘You wish that you could...what?’
Rob rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable. ‘Nothing—sorry. Thinking aloud.’
‘I feel like you censor your words around me—that you start to tell me stuff and then you pull back.’
Rob couldn’t lie to her. ‘I do.’
‘I’m a pretty good listener, Rob.’
‘Honey, what’s the point of listening if nothing can be changed?’ Rob replied, his tone low but resolute. ‘Do you want some more wine?’
‘If we don’t get going I’m not going to go at all. I decided not to go to this party a hundred times today.’ Willa tipped her head, staring at him with soul-searching eyes. ‘I’d love to know one of your secrets, Rob, since you seem to be witnessing all of my little foibles, quirks and paranoias.’
Feeling like a butterfly pinned to a board, he shuffled his feet, torn between wanting to tell her about his past and wanting to run screaming into the night. In his head he opted for running and screaming.
He made a show of pushing back the cuff of his shirt to look at his watch. ‘On second thoughts, leave the wine. I think we should get going.’
Willa slid off her chair and took the hand he held out. She picked up her clutch and hauled in a deep, deep breath.
Rob put his hand on her back. ‘You okay?’
Willa managed a small smile. ‘A hundred percent... If I tell you to turn the car around, just ignore me, okay?’
Rob, seeing the fine tremors that skittered through her body, pulled her in to his chest and wrapped his arms around her slight frame. Bending his head so that his mouth was on her ear, he spoke softly. ‘You’re not alone, Willa, not this time.’
* * *
Rob had attended his fair share of boring parties over the years—it was the price you paid when you did business with people who had money—but this one took ‘boring’ to new heights. The guests, around thirty in all, were either pompous, arrogant, annoying or all three at once, and no one tried to hide their curiosity about ‘Willa’s new man’.
‘Willa’s new man’ couldn’t give a rat’s about what they thought of him, but he hated the up and down looks they gave Willa—as if any of the women here could hold a candle to her in the looks or brains department—and the insincere small talk they deigned to send her way.
Rob stood next to the bar on the enormous catamaran berthed in Campbell’s Cove which, as Willa had told him, was one of the most picturesque super-yacht berths in the world. He could understand why. The marina was nestled between the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge and had outstanding views.
Sydney was a gorgeous city, Rob thought. He could see himself living here... He rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb, wondering where that thought had come from. He loved his country, his home city, loved the energy and vibe of Jo’burg. Unlike many of his friends he’d never considered emigrating south. He was a born-and-bred African and he loved his South African life.
But, seriously, Oz wasn’t that bad—and, he thought, looking at Willa’s slim back as she spoke to their hosts, the girls weren’t too shabby either. At least that one wasn’t...
No one would believe that she’d spent the day as a bundle of nerves: she looked composed and dignified and super-hot.
‘Willa has improved in the six months since we last saw her.’
Rob turned at the sound of a nasal voice at his elbow and met the calculating eyes of a brown-eyed brunette who’d spent far too much time in the sun—or, more likely, crisping herself on a sunbed. Eye-lift, boobs definitely fake and collagen lips. She was more plastic than cheap margarine.
And she was putting her bright red claws on his arm. God.
‘So, where did our little Willa find you?’ she drawled, empty martini glass in her hand. ‘Or did she hire you?’
What. The. Hell.
‘Excuse me?’ he said, his voice low and containing a warning that she should be very, very careful.
She was either too stupid or too drunk to hear it. ‘No offence, but Willa’s not the type to find you on her own. She’s a curious blend of timid and arrogant, shy and superior.’
Rob bit the inside of his lip to keep his words from stripping several layers of skin off her. He had a razor-sharp tongue and knew that he could inflict a cutting retort that would take her off at the knees. Rein it in, bud. This isn’t your fight and you don’t need to make it worse for Willa than it already is.
Tanned Plastic was trying to tap his mouth with her index finger and he yanked his head away just before she made contact.
‘Anyway, I might have some use for your...services. Give me your mobile number so that I can contact you.’
Rob, his temper on a low simmer, sent her a bland look. ‘Lady, I’d rather find a bathtub and chew my wrists off.’
Picking up his glass of whisky, he walked away from her fish face and walked up to Willa, who was still talking to their hosts.
‘Nice friends you have,’ he said to Misha, taking a sip of his whisky and welcoming its burn.
Willa gasped at his rudeness but, to his surprise, Misha just laughed.
‘Dreadful aren’t they? Especially Janice...that’s who you were just talking to.’
Misha sent him a wide grin that he couldn’t help returning.
‘That’s why we invited you, Willa. We wanted someone nice to talk to.’
So why have a fiftieth birthday party with people they didn’t like? It didn’t make sense, Rob thought—and then voiced his opinion out loud.
Instead of taking
offence, Vern just shrugged. ‘I believe in keeping my friends close and my enemies closer. So what do you do for a crust, Rob?’
‘Janice thinks I’m a male escort,’ Rob said blandly.
‘Janice is a fool,’ Misha replied. ‘And desperately jealous of Willa.’
‘She is not,’ Willa protested.
‘Of course she is,’ Rob agreed. ‘She’s been throwing daggers at you all night. As are quite a few of the other women. You’re at least twenty years younger than them, gorgeous, and most of the men here can’t keep their eyes off you.’
‘And why wouldn’t they stare?’ Vern said, lifting his glass to Willa. ‘You look wonderful, my dear. Misha, there’s the Thompsons—we should go say hello.’ He looked at Rob. ‘Enemies...’
‘Do you have any friends here?’ Rob asked.
Vern grinned. ‘One or two. Look after Willa for us.’
‘Will do.’ Rob shook his head, puzzled, and looked down at Willa. ‘What on earth does Vern do?’
‘What doesn’t he do?’ Willa replied, lifting one bare shoulder. ‘He’s one of Australia’s richest businessmen and he has interests in...well, literally everything. Hotels, mines, media, retail...’
Rob whistled his surprise. ‘And your ex is a business associate of his?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Huh.’
So her ex swam in the same school as the big-boy fish? He’d be impressed but...he wasn’t. Not by any of it. The yacht was swish, but the people were crappy, and the four-piece band playing in the corner was coma-inducing. The snacks were ordinary and he’d have more fun dodging taxi drivers in rush hour in downtown Jo’burg. He was bored, and when he was bored he tended to get into trouble by stirring up trouble.
‘Can we go yet?’ he asked, seeing that many eyes were still on them. He felt like an exhibit at a freak show.
Oh, well, might as well give them something they could really gossip about.