Would it be worth a credit card binge to see Mitch in Madrid? Excitement started to bubble up at the prospect.
‘Let’s think about how we can make it work,’ he said. ‘I have a full schedule of training, then pre-season matches in England, France and Italy before the season starts the last week in August. We could fit in a visit when I’m playing at home? That is if it coincided with your trip?’
Zoe was about to engage seriously with Mitch about what might be a good time for her to visit Madrid if she happened to be travelling to Europe—and then it hit her.
Mitch wasn’t actually inviting her to visit him. He wasn’t putting himself out in any way. Such a trip would be all about her running around the world to meet him at his convenience. For what? A bootie call? If she just happened to be in the neighbourhood? He was hedging his bets in a major way.
She swallowed down hard against a sudden bitter taste in her mouth. There would be no trip to Madrid for her to chase after Mitch in the hope of spending time with him. In her book, old-fashioned as it might be, the man did the chasing.
Before she could explain this to Mitch the waiter arrived at their table with their food and proceeded to describe in detail the meals they’d ordered. She put down her napkin—by now pleated to a narrow strip—and thanked the waiter.
She looked at the food on her plate—beautifully cooked and presented. But she didn’t feel like eating. As the aroma of the food filled her nostrils a wave of nausea overtook her. Mitch was right. She needed to check out this recurring illness. Or was it disappointment that was making her feel like this?
Mitch picked up his fork. ‘You haven’t told me how your meeting went today with your potential purchaser?’
Zoe was grateful for the change of subject. She pushed her food around her plate with her fork. ‘They made me a generous offer,’ she said. ‘Set out some attractive if constricting terms and conditions. We talked about expanding my specialised service into other states.’
‘And...?’
Zoe shrugged. ‘I’m still not convinced. I’m a very independent person—used to running my own show. I’m not sure how I’d take to being at the beck and call of a boss.’
‘I believe that,’ said Mitch. ‘So, how did you leave it with them?’ He seemed genuinely interested.
‘I told him I’d consider it. In the meantime I talked with my friend Louise, who works with me. I’ve been thinking of bringing her into the company as a full partner. She’d have to buy in, of course. Then we could think of expanding. We already spend quite a bit of time commuting to Melbourne, to service the clients we have there.’
‘You’re very ambitious,’ he said, and she appreciated the admiration in his voice.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That’s one reason I’m seriously considering the offer. Perhaps I can move higher in a bigger firm than I could on my own. It’s all worth considering.’
‘You’ve got a big decision to make. It will be interesting to see what you decide to do,’ he said. ‘Be sure you let me know.’
Was he just saying that? Did he really want to stay in touch?
‘Yes...’ she said non-committally.
‘We’ve both come a long way since we were seventeen,’ he said, his brows drawn thoughtfully together. ‘Me where I am—you with your own business.’
Startled, she looked up. ‘I guess we have.’
‘We’ve both still got a long way to go,’ he said.
She knew his career was all-important to him, and he’d made it very clear that he’d put his personal life on hold. But she aspired to more than business success. Success for her also meant a fulfilling personal life one day. That lifetime love she aspired to—and a happy family life.
With a wrench to her heart that was almost physical she realised it would never happen with Mitch—no matter the strength of her feelings for him. By the time he reached a stage when he wanted to settle down she would be long in his past.
CHAPTER TEN
MITCH PREDICTED ALMOST to the minute the time when the guy with the camera phone Zoe had been keeping her eye on would make his way to their table: after he and Zoe had finished their main courses and the waiter had removed their plates.
Mitch knew from the guy’s respectful attitude and the phone held so visibly in his hand that it wouldn’t be a problem. But Zoe’s eyes widened in alarm.
He remembered what she’d said about being a private person. Even a casual friendship with him opened her up to possible confrontations with the paparazzi.
‘Mitch, I’m a huge fan—so is my son,’ the guy with the camera said. ‘Could I have a photo with you, please?’
‘Of course,’ said Mitch, looking around for the waiter.
‘I’ll take the photo,’ said Zoe, jumping up from her seat.
Full marks to Zoe. That was one way of avoiding being in a photo. Maybe he didn’t need to worry too much about her coping with any possible publicity.
She took the guy’s phone and made a fuss of posing Mitch and his fan.
‘Thank you,’ the guy said to Zoe. ‘Can I get one of me and you two together now?’
‘I... I...’ Zoe stuttered.
‘Of course,’ said Mitch.
‘It’s for my wife,’ his fan explained. ‘She didn’t like Lara one little bit and will be happy to see you with such a lovely young lady.’
Again Mitch was struck by how public his life had become. It was highly improbable that this man’s wife had ever actually met Lara. The woman just hadn’t liked the Lara she’d seen in the media.
‘Zoe is an old friend of mine,’ said Mitch, ‘and she is indeed lovely.’
Zoe was obviously too stupefied to object. Mitch called the waiter over to take the photo. That would save both him and Zoe from any unflattering ‘selfie’.
After the fan had gone happily on his way Zoe turned to him. She shuddered. ‘Do you have to put up with that all the time?’
‘I’m never rude to a fan. He was a good guy. We made his evening—his wife and son will be chuffed.’
‘I found it disconcerting, to say the least,’ Zoe said, in a tone so low it was nearly a whisper. ‘Especially what he said about Lara.’
She looked nervously around her, as if there might be a photographer at every table. Fact was: there could be. Everyone with a smartphone was a potential paparazzo these days. But that came with the turf. Mitch had learned to deal with it.
‘C’mon—let’s leave if it’s making you uncomfortable,’ he said. ‘We can grab a coffee somewhere else, if you’d like.’
‘There are a few nice cafés around here,’ she said. ‘We could walk along the boardwalk by the harbour.’
‘Good idea. We can work that dinner off.’
Not that she’d eaten much.
She hesitated. ‘I...I won’t end up on some gossip website, will I? You know—“Mystery brunette on harbourside stroll with visiting soccer star”?’
Mitch thought about her helicopter fears back at the villa in Bali. She was right—they did exist on different planets. Zoe was so unlike Lara, who would have been preening at the thought of being in the spotlight.
‘That guy? Highly unlikely,’ he said. ‘He’ll show the photo around to the other parents at his boy’s soccer club though, I’ll bet.’
Although freedom from other, less scrupulous people, who cashed in on opportunistic amateur shots, he couldn’t guarantee. But he’d seen no one suspicious tonight. No one would imagine he’d be in Sydney when he should be in Europe, playing ‘friendly’ matches to warm up for the season to come.
But he’d had to see if his father was okay. And then there was Zoe. He’d be kidding himself if he denied that he’d leaped at the opportunity to see Zoe.
Now he realised that if at the back of his mind he’d hoped meeting with her again would leave him cold—would rid him of his attraction to her—then he’d been totally mistaken. She was even hotter than he’d remembered. There was nothing he wanted more than to take up where they’d le
ft off in Bali.
Of course Zoe tried to pay her share for the dinner. He’d anticipated that, and had already settled the bill when Zoe came back to the table after going to the ladies’ room.
‘I insist on paying for the coffee, then,’ she said, with that already familiar stubborn tilt to her chin.
Yes, Zoe was very different from the other women in his orbit.
They walked out of the restaurant into the narrow back street of Milson’s Point. It was a typically mild Sydney winter night, but Zoe wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. She reached into her purse and pulled out a filmy scarf she wrapped around her shoulders.
‘I can’t imagine that will keep you warm,’ he said.
‘I’m fine,’ she said, with an edge to her voice, not meeting his eyes.
‘No, you’re not, you’re shivering,’ he said. ‘Come here.’
He pulled Zoe into his arms and held her very close, until her shivering stopped, and finally she relaxed against him with a small sigh, her head resting against his shoulder Mitch didn’t know whether to interpret that sigh as relief or defeat.
He closed his eyes, the better to savour the sensation of having her close. He inhaled the sharp sweet scent of her—a Balinese blend of lemongrass and jasmine, she’d told him when he’d asked—that brought back heady memories of that brief, intense time they’d spent together in her villa.
This. This was what he’d longed for back in the echoing emptiness of his apartment in Madrid. He should not be letting himself feel this. But he heaved a huge sigh of relief that she made no effort to break away from him.
‘Warm now?’ he asked, his voice a husky rasp.
‘Yes,’ she murmured against his shoulder.
She pulled away, but remained within the circle of his arms, her own arms around his waist.
She looked up to him. ‘Thank you.’
Her face was in semi-shadow, her earrings glinting in the reflected light from the illumination of the giant grinning face of the entrance to Luna Park that loomed behind him. The sounds of carnival music and kids screaming on rides travelled on the still air.
‘What next, Zoe?’ he asked.
Her eyes told him that she knew he wasn’t talking about the direction of their walk.
‘Whatever we both want,’ she said slowly.
She lifted her mouth to him. He didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation. He bent his head and kissed her. But his kiss was brief and tender—he was as aware as Zoe of the possibility of interested eyes on them.
‘I’ve been wanting to do this all day,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ she said, a catch to her voice.
A taxi drew up and a noisy group of people got out, obviously heading for the restaurant. Zoe turned away from his embrace. As if by silent consent he took her arm and they headed away, to leave the restaurant behind them.
He walked beside her down the steep steps near the giant smile at the entrance to Luna Park to reach the harbour walk that ran by the harbour’s edge, from Lavender Bay to Milson’s Point. Despite the mildness of the night there was a hint of a breeze blowing off the water.
As they reached the boardwalk Zoe shivered again, and pulled the flimsy excuse for a wrap tighter to her. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t wear a coat,’ she said.
Mitch didn’t hesitate to put his arm around her and pull her to his side. To hell with the possibility of cameras. He and Zoe weren’t the only couple strolling along the boardwalk with their arms around each other. They would just blend in. He wanted her near him.
It had been such a long time since he’d lived in Sydney, and he found himself caught up in the magic of Sydney Harbour on a calm, clear night. He blocked the thought that being with Zoe was part of the magic. He could not allow himself to think that. Not when he was leaving tomorrow. Not when he didn’t know when he would see her again.
In silence, they walked past the Art Deco façade of the pool and under the arch of the bridge. He didn’t know whether the silence was companionable or choked with words better left unsaid.
Once they reached the eastern side of the bridge he and Zoe paused and leaned on the cast-iron railing to look across the water to the Opera House, its giant white sails lit up with a beauty that was almost ethereal.
‘Do you think you’ll ever come back to live in Australia?’ Zoe asked.
He shrugged. ‘Maybe. I don’t know. Sydney will always be home. But for the foreseeable future Europe is where I want to be.’
At the age of twenty-seven he saw that future stretch way ahead of him, exciting with possibilities. He was cautiously optimistic about his knee. Who knew how far he could go?
‘Tell me again when you have to go back to Madrid? It really is tomorrow?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
The single word seemed to toll like a warning of impending doom.
Zoe was looking ahead at the view so he couldn’t see her face. But he felt her flinch.
‘So...so we only have tonight,’ she said, again with that little catch to her voice that wrenched at him.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I fly out in the afternoon.’
A big harbour cruiser went by and a blast of brash music shattered the tranquillity of the scene. Did Zoe like that kind of music? Probably not. He realised how much he didn’t know about her. How much he wanted to know. One day, perhaps...
‘I wish it wasn’t such a long way between Australia and Spain,’ she said wistfully.
It remained unspoken between them that it wasn’t only the twenty-two-hour flight that separated them. His need to prove himself over and over without distraction stood in their way. Mitch liked Zoe. Really liked her. But he couldn’t let that liking and his attraction grow into anything deeper. This wasn’t the time for him. No matter how he might find himself wishing it could be different.
‘Me too,’ he said. ‘But even if we lived closer I still couldn’t promise anything more than—’
‘Friendship with benefits?’ she said.
He followed her gaze as she looked down into the dark green water of the harbour. Small waves from the cruiser’s wash were smashing against the sandstone supports of the railing.
‘Very occasional benefits,’ she added, in a tone so low he scarcely caught it.
Put like that, it sounded so callous.
With his fingers, Mitch tilted her chin upwards so she had to meet his gaze. ‘Zoe, I wish it could be more. Who knows what could happen in the—?’
‘Future?’ she said. She reached up to silence him with her finger on his mouth, as she had done before. ‘Let’s not talk about the future.’
The thinly veiled sadness in her eyes made his resolve waver. ‘Who knows? One day...’ he said.
Slowly she shook her head. ‘It seems to me we can only take this one day at a time. So we’d better make the most of the hours we’ve got left.’
‘Agreed,’ he said.
He hoped her idea of a wonderful way to fill the hours coincided with his. Alone. Private. Clothes optional.
‘How long since you’ve been to Luna Park?’ she asked.
He paused, surprised at the question. ‘Years and years,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Not since I was at uni. The noise and music coming from there sounds fun. Let’s walk through before we go and find a coffee shop.’
Mitch was too startled to reply. It was hardly his idea of making the most of the hours they had left together.
‘Sounds like a plan,’ he said, with an effort to sound enthusiastic.
‘We can just walk around and look,’ she said.
His parents had taken him and his brothers to Luna Park when he was very young. Then it had been closed for years, and he hadn’t revisited it until he was a teenager. He’d taken his training so seriously that amusement parks hadn’t been much on the agenda. Besides, Lara had looked down her nose at what she’d thought was a plebeian form of entertainment.
‘That could be fun,’ he said.
He t
ook Zoe’s hand in his as they walked along the harbour back towards the bright lights and clashing noises of Luna Park. She looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back.
Holding hands with Zoe. Who would have thought something so simple, so everyday, would make him feel so...? He thought hard about what this feeling was. Happy. Being with Zoe made him feel happy.
As they walked under the big grinning face into the entertainment park he gave it a mental salute.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZOE HAD NO IDEA why she’d suggested going to Luna Park with Mitch. Panic, perhaps? Prolonging the inevitable? What she really wanted was to be alone with him, somewhere quiet and romantic.
But she was struggling with the ‘friends with occasional benefits’ scenario. She wanted Mitch with a deep, yearning hunger—a craving. It was impossible to stop sneaking glances at him to admire his profile, the shape of his mouth, the set of his shoulders. She found everything about him exciting. The thought of the sensual pleasures they had shared made her shiver with remembered ecstasy. But she balked at the idea of being his occasional lover.
Bali had been different. The circumstances had been extraordinary. She’d believed there would be only the one time. That she would be able to put their encounter behind her almost as if it had been a dream. It hadn’t been easy to forget him. And now he was back in her life, but on very uncertain ground. It might be commonplace for a celebrity sports star to do the ‘occasional lover’ thing. Not so for an ordinary girl with dreams of a once-in-a-lifetime love. A girl teetering on the edge of falling in love with him.
Walking hand in hand with Mitch like any other couple strolling along the harbour walk on a mild Thursday evening felt so right. She loved the feel of his much larger hand enfolding hers, the way their shoulders nudged, the subtle intimacy. As if they were meant to be together.
But tomorrow he would be on his way to Madrid again. And she would be left with perhaps the comfort of an occasional phone call. She had no illusions. Once he was again immersed in his game she would not be at the front of his mind.
From Paradise...to Pregnant! Page 10