Her Fortescue Diamond

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by Alicia Hope




  Her Fortescue Diamond

  By Alicia Hope

  Published by Alicia Hope

  Copyright 2012 Alicia Hope

  ABN 59573352521

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  Her Fortescue Diamond

  ‘You write such wonderful heroes in your books, Alicia. I’ve fallen in love with every one of them so far. So how come you still haven’t found a hero of your own?’

  Alicia studied Polly for a moment. She had to admit it was a natural enough question for her friend to ask, and she wasn’t the only one. It seemed everyone was curious to know how a successful young romance writer—who, although no Barbie doll, was attractive in a bright and interesting way—could remain so resolutely single while all her friends moved in with, married or martyred the men of their dreams.

  A waitress brushed past their table and left a tantalising whiff of garlic and caramelised onion in her wake. Alicia watched her deliver the aromatic order to a bunch of gourmands whose expressions lit up greedily. Without taking her eyes off the delicious-looking platter, she murmured, ‘Yeah, well that’s because the heroes in my stories are make-believe men. No real man could live up to them.’

  ‘Well of course they’re not real, Luvvy. You’re a fiction writer. But writing about impossibly handsome, heroic types in your books shouldn’t stop you from finding one in real life?’

  ‘But, Polly, real-life heroes just don’t exist. Or if they do they’re as rare as....’

  ‘As what? Hen’s teeth?’

  Alicia frowned. ‘Oh no, that’s not a worthy comparison for my lovely heroes! Let’s just say they’re as rare as ... the Fortescue Diamond.’

  ‘Don’t tell me. That’s the world’s largest vivid blue diamond isn’t it? The one you keep going on about?’

  ‘I don’t “go on about it” at all. In fact, I think I’ve only mentioned it to you once before. You SO exaggerate things.’ Alicia raised a reproachful eyebrow and shook her head at her friend.

  ‘Oh, shut up. As if you don’t exaggerate in your books.’

  ‘That’s different. It’s permissible exaggeration, under literary license.’

  Polly snorted and blew some steam from the top of the coffee mug she held between both hands. ‘Literary, shiterary. It’s all the same to me.’ She took a sip of coffee and her eyes sparkled defiantly over the top of her mug.

  ‘Classy, Poll, real classy.’

  ‘Whatever. So, what are you doing to find your Mr Perfect?’

  ‘Nothing. Like I told you, he doesn’t exist.’

  ‘But you go out on dates?’

  ‘Of course. No woman is an island you know.’ It was Alicia’s turn to glance significantly at her friend through the steam rising from her cup.

  ‘So these dates are just for ...?’

  ‘For company. For research. For fun.’

  ‘I see. And do the blokes know they’re just research subjects; lab rats if you will?’

  ‘Of course they’re not lab rats! I’m not that hard-hearted you know, despite what you obviously think.’

  Polly grinned an apology at her friend. ‘I know you’re not, Hon. But you gotta admit, it does make you sound a bit ... mercenary.’

  ‘No more so than most of the guys I’ve dated. Let’s face it, their agendas are unlikely to include anything deep and meaningful. Most of them are too busy taking orders from “General Testosterone”.’

  Both women giggled wickedly and sipped their coffees.

  ‘But what about that one guy, the tall, dark and handsome you went out with a few times? He had a “toff” sounding name....’

  ‘You mean Gideon?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s him. What happened there? Second and third dates are virtually unheard of in Alicia World, so he must have been something of an anomaly.’

  Alicia paused, pressing her lips into a tight line. A far-away look crept into her eyes, but when she became aware of her friend’s scrutiny, she dropped her gaze and gave a small, wry smile.

  ‘Yes, even I have to admit Gideon was a bit different.’

  ‘OK, spill the beans.’

  ‘But it’s a long story. We don’t have time—’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I was just about to order another cappuccino anyway, one’s never enough. And I don’t get to see you all that often any more, so I want to make the most of every minute. I’ll order for us both, so get ready to tell all, girlfriend.’ Polly raised a hand to get the waitress’s attention.

  Alicia leaned back in her chair and gave a resigned sigh. She glanced up at the sky through the gently swaying branches of the tree shading their table. This was her favourite café. The coffee was the best, and there were pleasing seating options—in overstuffed armchairs by the fireplace in winter, or outside in spring and summer, under wide blue umbrellas or the speckled shade of a street tree.

  Gideon. Although she hadn’t seen him for a while, she begrudgingly conceded that she hadn’t been able to put him out of her mind.

  ‘OK, hit me.’ Polly was looking at her again, an expression of determined expectancy on her face.

  Alicia regarded her momentarily with a twinkle in her eyes. ‘But you’re my friend, Poll, I don’t want to hit you. I might hurt you.’

  ‘You know what I mean. Lay the Gideon story on me, and stop procrastinating.’

  Alicia gave another sigh. ‘OK. Well, I won’t bore you with details you already know ... I’ll start with our second date shall I?’

  Polly settled herself more comfortably in her chair, just as the waitress returned with their coffees and a fresh carafe of chilled water. Polly quickly topped up their tumblers, and then managed to almost simultaneously unwrap her bite-sized chocolate, pop it in her mouth, take their steaming coffees from the tray, and hand Alicia hers.

  Alicia chuckled at her friend’s juggling ability, and then launched into a description of her dinner date with Gideon. ‘Everything was going well, but just as we were starting on our mains a “suit” came over to the table. You know the type. A so-called up-and-coming professional, wearing a power suit and clown shoes, and with his hair greased up into a “hey, look at me, I’m just a big-old-baby-boy” point. You know the shoes I mean, don’t you, Poll? The ugly variety that are so long they curl up at the toes and make men look ridiculous?’

  At Polly’s chuckle and nod Alicia continued. ‘Anyway, the corporate crapster interrupted us without apologising. He turned his back full-on towards me, and spoke to Gideon as though I wasn’t even there.’

  ‘What a—!’

  ‘Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Anyway, it turned out clown boy’s looking to move up in the world and wanted to collar Gideon about giving him a job.’

  ‘And how did Gorgeous Gideon handle Barge-in Bozo?’

  ‘Like a seasoned pro. With just a few choice words he put Jack back in his box, and suggested he find some manners before he bounced back out again! I couldn’t help smiling when the twerp turned to look at me, but—and I do feel a bit bad about this—it wasn’t a nice smile. More an “ouch, that must have hurt” snigger.’

  ‘Nothing more than he deserved.’

  ‘Well, it felt good, despite being something of a cheap shot. Thankfully Gideon seemed to think my reaction was justified.’

  Both women paused to
take generous sips from their cups.

  Polly contemplated her friend for a few seconds through narrowed eyes. ‘So, Gideon’s a businessman?’

  The overly innocent tone was not lost on Alicia, who replied carefully, ‘Yesss, he owns a successful HR consultancy.’

  ‘Doesn’t one of your books have a businessman hero in it?’

  ‘Well, Royce in Glass Ceilings is a businessman, albeit a deliciously ruthless one.’

  ‘But he turns out to be a good guy in the end?’

  ‘Of course, otherwise he wouldn’t be the story’s hero.’

  ‘OK then, tell me this. How would Royce have handled Clown Boy if he’d been there?’

  Alicia gave a small frown and pursed her lips before murmuring thoughtfully, ‘In much the same way I think.’

  ‘So, that’s one out of one to Gideon so far.’

  ‘What is this, the “Compare Gideon to Fictional Heroes” show?’

  Polly chuckled. ‘Just bear with me. So, what happened next?’

  Alicia turned her head slightly sideways and squinted at her friend. ‘I’m not sure where you’re going with this ... but OK. Well, we finished dinner without any more interruptions, and Gideon took me home in what I thought was his beautiful BMW, but which turned out to be his mother’s car. He’d bought it for her when her beloved old buzz-box finally threw in the towel.’

  ‘Very noble of him. I’d say that’s two outta two.’

  Alicia chose to ignore that comment and continued. ‘And he asked me to go sailing with him the following weekend.’

  ‘Hang on, what happened when he dropped you home after dinner? Anything, you know ...?’

  ‘Get your mind out of the gutter, Poll! He was the perfect gentleman and didn’t make me feel obliged to invite him in for “coffee”—or anything else for that matter.’

  ‘Hmm ... that’s three. OK, so you went sailing with him?’

  ‘Yes. It was our third date. That’s when he told me about his first marriage, which ended in a savage divorce apparently.’

  ‘Ah, so our hero is love-scarred. Like the one in your second book, what was his name? Greg? Gary? No, hang on, I remember now. Grayson.’

  ‘Yes, Grayson was a bit the worse for having loved and lost.’ Alicia smiled fondly and paused to take another drink from her mug. She held the flavoursome mouthful on her tongue, relishing it for a long moment before continuing, ‘Anyway, this left Gideon financially drained, so it’s a wonder he was able to make such a good recovery.’

  ‘Hmm, a successful businessman who’s clever, ambitious, doesn’t suffer fools gladly, but is also caring, loyal and—’

  ‘Funny,’ Alicia interjected without thinking. ‘He’s also funny. He’s got a great sense of humour, which came as something of a surprise. I thought all tycoons were crusty bean-counters only interested in balancing the bottom line.’

  Polly smiled at her friend’s innocent enthusiasm. ‘OK, he’s also funny, and honourable despite having been kicked in the pants by love. So far, so good.’ She checked the points off on her fingers while Alicia watched her with a bemused expression.

  ‘Do you want me to continue with the story or not?’

  ‘Of course, but someone’s gotta keep a tally on the “Hero versus Zero” scoreboard.’

  Alicia gave a derisive snort. ‘So, anyway, we had a fabulous day out on his yacht—’

  ‘What’s it called?’

  ‘What’s what called?’

  ‘His yacht, dummy!’

  ‘Oh. Wait, I know this, it’s something cute ... oh yes! It’s called “Thisiz Livin”. But why is that important?’

  ‘Oh, just trying to get a better picture of his character. So he obviously thinks there’s more to life than business?’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do. So, what happened next?’

  ‘Well, we sailed back into the harbour right on sunset, and Gideon cracked the bottle of bubbly he’d been chilling in the icebox.’ Alicia rested her chin on her hands and gazed dreamily up at the sky. She sighed, ‘He served it in two champagne flutes, accompanied by a platter of cheese, crackers and whole strawberries.’

  ‘Ooh, I love a man with class who knows what really matters, like food and wine. And appropriate glassware.’ Polly gave a cheeky grin.

  Alicia smiled too, a little warily this time. ‘And then we moored the yacht, and I went home.’

  ‘What? That’s it?’

  ‘Yep, pretty much.’

  ‘No, there’s gotta be more to it than that?’

  ‘Well....’

  ‘C’mon. Out with it!’

  ‘Oh alright, if you must know. We were making our way through the marina towards the car park and he was talking about a movie he wanted us to see.’

  ‘That’s more like it! And?’

  ‘And right about then two bikini-clad bimbos appeared out of nowhere and claimed him.’

  ‘What, right out from under your nose?’

  ‘You make it sound like I had dibs on him!’

  ‘Come on, what happened?’

  ‘Nothing much. I left him with them.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘It was obvious I was thrown into the reject bin as soon as they appeared on the scene. They pranced around, twittering and fawning over him, showing off their curves and cleavages. I began to feel like a voyeur, witnessing the precursor to a ménage à trois.’

  ‘So you just left them to it?’

  ‘Well, I got the message. He’s just a man after all. They were showing plenty of taut, tan flesh in their barely-there ’kinis. And then there was me, in rolled-up jeans with damp bottoms, a plain white t-shirt a couple of sizes too big, and with my hair up under a wide-brimmed hat, a-la-Granny Grey.’

  ‘But did he ask you to go, or did you just jump to conclusions? You’ve been guilty of that before, you know.’

  ‘He didn’t need to say anything, I could just tell.’

  Polly gave an exasperated sigh and threw herself against the back of her chair.

  Alicia gazed at her for a minute or so before looking down at her hands. She said softly, ‘But there’s a bit more to the story if you’re interested.’

  ‘Of course I am.’ Polly sat forward again, curiosity glistening in her eyes.

  ‘He rang me that evening to apologise.’

  Polly frowned. ‘Apologise?’

  ‘For letting himself be distracted by the two ’kini babes. But he also wanted to know why I left so suddenly. Apparently he turned around and I’d disappeared.’

  ‘Oh, Alicia!’

  ‘Don’t look at me like that. I was just doing him a favour by leaving him free to play with his new friends.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound to me like he saw it as a favour.’

  ‘It was a few hours afterwards when he called. For all we know by then he’d probably used up all the favours on offer.’

  ‘Do you really think he’d bother to ring and apologise if that was true?’

  ‘Who knows. Maybe he’s just prepared to put in a bit more time and effort to get what he wants from me.’

  ‘For a romantic, you’re such a sceptic, Alicia.’

  ‘No, just a realist.’

  ‘So, did he ask you out again?’

  ‘Yes. And I said no.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard. I said no.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Haven’t you been listening, Poll? The minute something more shiny came into view, Shallow Hal forgot all about me.’

  ‘Sounds more like you chickened out the minute there was some competition. Maybe it’s more a case of Shallow Gal.’

  ‘You’re calling me shallow?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘In the words of that famous female politician, please explain?’

  ‘A shallow gal focuses on the external only. She accepts what she sees as being the sum total of someone, instead of looking deeper for the real person. And I have a feeling that’s what you’ve done with Gideon.’


  ‘Oh, come on, you don’t even know him! How could you assume that?’

  ‘Because I’m looking deeper into the person you’re describing. And so, by definition, I’m not a shallow gal. You, on the other hand....’

  Alicia gave a grunt and arched an eyebrow at her friend.

  Polly stared back at her unrepentantly. ‘Alright, we’ve compared Gideon with two of your heroes. What about the guy in your latest book, what’s his name?’

  ‘Byron.’ Alicia frowned a little uncertainly.

  ‘Yeah, that’s him. Doesn’t the heroine initially regard him as shallow?’

  ‘Well, yes....’

  ‘But he turns out to be deeper than she thinks, a worthwhile object for her affections?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘We’re back where we started. Byron is make-believe, the product of my imagination, as are Royce and Grayson. Gideon is real. And as a real man, he has faults.’

  ‘But your heroes aren’t completely perfect. They have faults too. That’s what makes them interesting to both the heroine and your readers.’

  ‘Well, they have to at least seem realistic.’

  ‘There you go.’

  ‘There I go what?’

  Polly sighed. ‘I guess I have to spell it out for you.’

  ‘Please!’

  ‘I think Gideon rated highly on the Royce-Grayson-Bryon scale. He passed all the hero tests, and that’s what scared you.’

  ‘Humph!’

  ‘Don’t huff and puff! Hear me out. You’re convinced that only imaginary men can come close to meeting your “Fortescue Diamond” love criteria. You’re so sure these criteria are unachievable for mortal men, you’ve turned away from a man who actually ticks all the boxes; one who just might be able to make you happy.’

  Alicia had been glaring at her friend, but those words suddenly found a soft spot in her heart’s armour. She started to speak a couple of times, but the words died in her throat. And then she didn’t say anything for a while.

  Both women sat back, finishing their rapidly cooling coffees, lost in their thoughts.

  After a while Alicia looked over at Polly but couldn’t quite meet her eyes. She cleared her throat. ‘Much as I hate to admit it, you might be right. I guess I might have spoilt my one chance of snavelling a hero of my own.’

 

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