“Seven. Sorry to wake you, but I thought you’d want to get back to your room soon, as we have to leave at nine.”
She pushed herself up on the pillows and blinked at him. He held out the cardboard coffee cup, and she took it and smiled. “How long have you been up?”
“Since five.”
She nearly coughed the drink over him. “Five?”
He laughed. “I don’t need much sleep. I had a run, then a shower, and you were still snoozing.”
“I could have slept forever.” She sipped her coffee, studying him. Then she stretched and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Two secs. I’ll be back.” She disappeared into the bathroom.
Eli waited, fidgeting with the paper bag he held in his hands. Was she angry with him? She came out a minute later, naked and bleary eyed, and gave him a bewildered smile as she slipped back into bed. “I feel like my head’s stuffed with cotton.”
“The coffee’ll help. And I got us some breakfast.” He handed her the bag with the chocolate croissant inside. “As a peace offering,” he added, unable to keep quiet any longer.
She took the croissant out. “Are you under the impression I’m mad at you?”
“I’m not sure. You have a right to be. I know this isn’t much help at this point, but I’ve never forgotten to use a condom before. I don’t know what happened.”
She offered him a bite of the pastry.
“No thanks. I’ve already had three. How long…before you know if you’re pregnant?”
She took a bite out of the pastry and chewed for a moment. “A couple of weeks?”
“So, you’re like, right in the middle of your cycle then? The most fertile time?” He flopped back on the bed and pulled a pillow over his face. He lay there for a moment, breathing into the pillow, confused at himself, because it wasn’t the fact that she might be pregnant that was bothering him. It was the fact that he’d let her down and been unreliable.
Eventually, she pulled the pillow away. To his relief, she was smiling. “Eli, for God’s sake. Don’t throw yourself on your sword just yet.”
“I’ve committed the ultimate single male sin. My mother would kill me.”
“I bet she would. But I’m not going to. Not yet, anyway.” Her eyes glimmered with amusement.
He studied her. She was trying to make light of what had happened, but he sensed a steeliness underneath her humor, evident in her stiff posture, and the way she’d drawn up the duvet to shield herself from his gaze. She may not be mad at him, but she had to be worried about the outcome. He’d imagined that if she were pregnant, she’d leap at the chance for some security, but he realized that she might have to postpone all her plans, all her hopes and dreams, and she wouldn’t thank him for that. She may even grow to hate him for ruining her ambitions. He didn’t think he could bear that.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just…I don’t know what to say to make it better. I don’t know what this means for us, or for the future. Except that, obviously, if you have a baby, I’ll support you—I’ll do whatever you want to make you happy.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then she leaned over him and put down her croissant and her coffee, giving him an eyeful of breast before returning. She cupped his face as she looked at him, a soft smile on her lips. Then she bent her head and kissed him.
Flummoxed as to why she wasn’t beating him with a pillow, he accepted the touch of her lips. He opened his mouth and let her deepen the kiss, still puzzled as to why she wasn’t angry with him. But she clearly wasn’t. He put his arms around her and pulled her down on top of him, and she laughed as she felt what was going on in his pants.
She rubbed her hips against his. “Want some help with that, love?”
He stroked her face. “Really?”
She stopped moving and lifted up to look at him. “Eli… We’re both to blame. It’s my responsibility to remind you as much as it’s yours to remember. We got caught up in the heat of the moment, that’s all.”
He stroked down her bare body, pushing up with his hips. He’d talk more to her about it later. For now, he just wanted to make her feel better. “In that case, yes, I’d definitely like some help with it.”
…
Later, when she’d gone back to her motel, he packed his suitcase, hesitating as he saw the airline ticket he’d printed, a rude reminder of how reality could intrude onto his dreams.
Once again, uncertainty knotted his stomach. While they’d made love earlier, he’d wanted to tell her he loved her, but he’d held back, mainly because he couldn’t be sure of her reaction. That she liked him was clear, but he wasn’t a hundred percent convinced she didn’t still think of their relationship as a fling. Perhaps she dreaded finding out she was pregnant. If she found out she wasn’t, relief might be her main emotion, because then she’d be able to get on with fulfilling her dream.
The future lay before him like the mist-shrouded lake where they’d been filming, vague and indistinct. There was no point in trying to decide which path to take until the forks in the road ahead became apparent. He’d have to play the waiting game and make up his mind as and when the mist cleared.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat. A cool head was needed here, not turbulent emotions. When he knew what the options were, he’d make his decision, and until then, he’d just enjoy the time they had left together.
Chapter Fourteen
Tabby couldn’t suppress a surge of pleasure when Eli sat beside her on the journey home. She still wore the Hurricanes rugby top he’d donated to her sheepishly when they remembered he’d ripped all the buttons off her red shirt. She snuggled down in her seat, smelling the lemon and sandalwood soap he used, comforted by it, as if his arms were wrapped around her.
Not that he was far away. He seemed quite content for his arm to brush hers the entire journey, and spent most of the time either talking to her, stealing her earbud to listen with her to her iPod, or pestering her for squares of chocolate. Sometimes he read to her from his newspaper while she rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying his deep voice as he commented on tales he found interesting.
He didn’t mention the forgotten condom again, and neither did she.
Back in Wellington, the rest of the day was frantic as they placed everything they’d taken on location back in the appropriate rooms, and she spent the afternoon helping the other artists get the makeup room ready for the final two weeks of shooting. She found out that Will’s nose wasn’t broken, and Val’s quick thinking with the ice had kept the swelling to a minimum. Filming was going to be able to continue the next day, which meant Eli would be able to keep his job, provided he kept out of Will’s way and didn’t do anything stupid. “I can’t guarantee that,” he told Tabby when he relayed Val’s conditions for staying. “But I’ll do my best.”
At the end of the day, she got her things ready to go to her apartment. As she turned to leave, however, she saw Eli leaning against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets, watching her, a small smile on his face.
“Coming for a drink?” he asked.
She didn’t miss the way her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him “Sure. Just for a little while.”
So they went for a drink, and when she said she had to go, he kissed her on the cheek and said, “See you tomorrow.”
The next day it happened again, and for the next two weeks they continued to meet after work, sometimes to go to the bar, sometimes for a pizza—usually with Mick and Madeleine, and occasionally with some of the other crew. To everyone else’s eyes, they appeared very civilized and grown-up, and Tabby was glad nobody could see inside her heart. She didn’t want anyone to be aware of her rising misery and panic at the thought that the days until filming was over were rapidly disappearing.
They also continued to make the most of every opportunity they could find to sneak off somewhere private and have sex. Tabby knew it was pointless to worry that each lovemaking session was getting her further into trouble. She’d fallen for him the moment she
saw him with the bad teeth and white hair—what hope did she have now? She tried not to think about the future. That proved difficult when the moment where she’d have to investigate whether the missing condom had had an effect was looming like the iceberg that sank the Titanic, but she did her best.
Before she knew it Friday had arrived, and the shoot was nearly over.
“Are you going to the dinner-slash-dance?” Madeleine asked. They sat in two deck chairs with a cup of tea and watched the boys play rugby. The weather had grown cooler as May progressed, and the girls shivered in the damp air, although the men all perspired with exertion.
“Of course. You?”
“Yep. I’m going to have to bully Mick into a tux, though.”
Tabby glanced at Eli, who had wrestled some guy to the ground in spite of the fact that they were only supposed to be playing touch rugby. She wondered whether he was going. She hadn’t asked him, not wanting to make it sound as if she were expecting him to take her, like a date.
“He’s going,” Madeleine said.
“You a mind reader now?”
“Honey, it’s written all over your face.” Madeleine sipped her tea. “What are you wearing?”
“No idea. I assume we’re supposed to dress up.”
“Oh yeah. It’s a huge event.” Madeleine studied her. “What are you doing after work today?”
“I’ve pretty much finished, actually. Geoff completed the Atlantis King shots a few days ago. I’m just helping out with the general makeup. He gave me a lovely reference for my résumé, by the way.”
“That’s good to hear. Well then, we’re going shopping tonight. Meet me out front at four. Filming finishes tomorrow anyway—they’re hardly going to fire us. And most of the crew will be doing the same in any case.”
“Okay.” Tabby didn’t have a clue about clothes and only ever bought what fit and what was comfortable.
“When are you off to England?”
“June,” Tabby said. “The course doesn’t start until September, but I wanted to spend a few months sightseeing and getting to know the place.”
Madeleine dunked a cookie in her tea and ate it while she studied Tabby thoughtfully. “And how do your mom and sister feel about that?”
Tabby gave a prolonged and heavy sigh. She’d told Madeleine about her family problem the week before, when Madeleine had walked in on her in tears following yet another telephone call. “They’re not happy. I’m sticking to my guns at the moment, but it’s hard. The guilt, you know?”
“Oh yeah.” Madeleine’s father had died several years before, and the care and well-being of her mother had fallen on her shoulders.
“It’s only for a year, though. I want to do it now, before Dad gets much worse, so that if I have to look after him when I return home I’ll already have my certification under my belt.”
“You’ve got to go. They’ll cope without you, Tabby. They’ll have to. And then when you come back, you can make it up to them.”
Tabby nodded, but inside the doubt bubbled up inside her. She couldn’t describe to Madeleine how her family managed to make her feel so guilty, covering it in a thin veneer of affection and expectation. Resentment had threatened to overtake her feelings of love for both Lisa and her parents. She didn’t want to feel like that, but it seemed as inevitable as the fact that Mick was going to land in the puddle by the food tent as he backpedaled to catch the rugby ball. Sure enough, he caught his heel in the turf and fell straight into the muddy water, causing Eli to erupt with laughter as Mick got to his feet, soaking wet, filthy, and cursing.
“For God’s sake,” Madeleine said, “what are they, twelve?”
Tabby just smiled, thinking for a second that she could almost see a third person standing with them: the intriguing Charlie Black, whom Eli rarely mentioned, but who she knew was often present in his thoughts. The inimitable older brother, who had taught Eli to fall down steps and dive off waterfalls. The Charlie that Eli had made his promise to all those years ago. In whatever plane he now existed, was Charlie aware of what was unfolding between her and Eli? Was he watching over them somewhere, starting to get worried in case Eli changed his mind and didn’t fulfill the dream he’d promised to keep?
Don’t worry. I won’t take him away, Charlie. I know he promised you. He’s still going to LA. This thing is temporary. Tomorrow, it’ll all be over.
And she tried not to think about how sad that made her.
…
The last Friday was crazy busy finishing up the shoot, but by six o’clock the place was empty, everyone having gone home to dress for the dinner and dance that night.
At seven-thirty, Tabby took a cab from her flat to the Michael Fowler Centre, where the event was taking place, and entered the building, trying not to fidget with her clutch. She’d hardly seen anything of Eli over the last few days while they frantically filmed some emergency shots, but she’d bumped into him at the food tent, and had arranged to meet him that evening. It was a grand venue, the front panels lit up so they blazed across the center of Wellington, visible from streets away. The inside glowed with lights and glittered from the sequins and sparkles on the dresses of the women.
“Tabby.” Madeleine found her at the door to the Lion Harbour View Lounge with its breathtaking views over Wellington’s harbor, and came over to give her a kiss. She looked sublime in a dark green gown, her normally straight blonde bob curled for once, hanging in cute spirals around her ears. She stepped back from Tabby and ran her gaze up and down her appreciatively. “Wow. I mean, wow, Tabby. You look stunning.”
“Do you think?” Tabby was breathless with nerves. She’d wanted to pick a black gown, too worried about standing out in any other color, but somehow Madeleine had managed to talk her into buying a deep red dress. Strapless, it featured a wide band that lay across her breastbone and covered her upper arms, the bodice tight to the waist where it flared to a full skirt that reached to the ground.
Tabby had never worn anything like it before, and it had cost her several days’ wages. But it had been worth it—she felt like a million dollars in it, and when she’d first stood in front of the mirror, she’d nearly cried. She’d been to the hairdresser, who’d tidied her wild locks and caught them up in a knot on the top of her head, decorating it with a simple fastener consisting of a deep red rose and a couple of long feathery things that trailed down her neck, accentuating her pale skin. She hardly recognized herself.
“He’s going to be floored when he sees you.”
“Who?” Tabby asked innocently.
Madeleine laughed. “Come on. He’s with Mick.”
She led Tabby through the throng, stopping to talk to people as they passed. Everyone from the cast and crew were there, most of them with their partners, and it took Madeleine and Tabby about twenty minutes to cross to the other side of the lounge, threading their way through circular tables that were already half-occupied.
“There they are,” Madeleine said. “I got Mick into a tux, although he’s already undone the effing tie. I swear that man was born in a pair of shorts and gumboots.”
Tabby saw Madeleine’s husband first and laughed at the sight of the tie hanging around his neck. He looked lovely, though, handsome in his black suit and white shirt, and she could see why he’d recently been voted third in the “Actor You’d Most Like to Sleep With” poll in a popular New Zealand women’s magazine.
Then her gaze fell on Eli.
He wore an elegant black notch tuxedo with a fine pinstripe, and a plain black vest underneath. A vest. Tabby nearly passed out. His white shirt had a wingtip collar and his black bow tie was still intact. A white handkerchief peeked from the top of his breast pocket. For once, he’d combed his dark hair, and she suspected he’d hoped to keep it flat, but it had already sprung up at the front, giving him a rakish look. He held a whisky glass in one hand, and he’d tucked his other hand in his pants pocket. The man was absolutely, devastatingly handsome, and she could only sigh in appreciation.
Tabby’s heart pounded, and she had trouble breathing as she followed Madeleine through the tables toward them.
“Hey, Tabby.” Mick came forward and gave her a kiss. “Wow, you look fantastic.”
“So do you. You must have gone up a few ranks on that poll now.”
Mick laughed and then looked across at Eli. Tabby followed his gaze. “Hello, sailor.”
“Hey.” Eli ran his gaze down the red ball gown, then back up again. His eyes were hot, full of admiration, appreciation, and…something else, something she couldn’t fathom. They stared at each other for a full ten seconds before Madeleine cleared her throat. Eli gestured to himself and Mick. “We look good, don’t you think?”
Tabby burst out laughing. “Absolutely.”
“Smooth,” Madeleine said. “Come on, let’s take our seats before the rush.” She followed Mick toward the nearest table.
Eli met Tabby’s gaze again. His eyes were warm. “You look divine.”
“Thank you.”
“Funny, though, how all I can think about is what you’ve got on underneath that dress.”
“No surprises there,” she said without flinching. “That’s why I’m not wearing any underwear.”
Eli’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “You’re what?”
“I wanted to give you something to ponder on while we had dinner.”
“Well, I can guarantee it’s not the chicken I’m going to be thinking about.” He pulled her toward him and nuzzled her ear. “Do you like dancing?”
“I love it.”
“Good. I’m marking your card. For the whole evening.”
“Marking my… Eli, this isn’t the nineteenth century.”
“You know what I mean. This evening, you’re with me. Got it?” His eyes were challenging, playful, and a little bit reckless, daring her to say no.
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