For the next twenty minutes I sat, completely unable to move, tears streaming down my face, regretting pressing play. PS I Love You played on the screen. Heidi didn’t even knock. She just pushed open the door and flopped onto the sofa beside me, her eyes completely focused on the screen in front of us.
Rhiannon came through the door like a whirlwind. “Well, ladies, did we all have fun last night?” Heidi and I rolled our eyes at her in unison and grunted our agreement.
“So, what happened to you, Gillian?” Heidi asked, straining her eyes away.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you turned down an absolute stunner, he ends up taking Cora home, and now no one can get hold of her. And you end up at the bar with a line of cowboy shots in front of you that you were downing like water. I have never seen anyone, male or female, drink like you did last night. Did you have a death wish or something?”
I stared at Heidi for a long time. At least now I knew the cause of the throbbing pain in my head and the reason every time I took a sip of my water I felt like my entire insides were going to come streaming out of me. “Did I?” I asked nervously. Surely she was exaggerating. They both laughed, seeing me wiggle. “How did I get home?” I enquired, not sure if I really wanted the answer.
“Alex,” Rhiannon offered. “He drove us all here. I stripped you off, tucked you into bed, and then we left. Nice lingerie, by the way. Was that for me or someone specific?”
“We practically carried you through the door. Well, Alex did,” Heidi finished. I felt my whole face turn beetroot red with embarrassment. I had been drunk before, but nothing like that. I didn’t remember how I got home; I couldn’t even walk up the steps by myself.
“I’m so sorry, guys…” I started, but was cut off by Rhiannon’s hysterical cackle.
“Don’t be sorry at all. You needed a good night out and you had it. I needed a good laugh and I got it. All in all, a very successful evening. Want to do it again?”
“I want to kill you!” I tried smiling, but couldn’t conjure one. “You know that, right?”
Later that night I lay curled up on the lounge, a bowl of hot buttered popcorn in my lap, and a blanket wrapped around me watching Sex and the City reruns. It amazed me; those ladies went out every night dressed head to toe in Dior or Gucci, drank more than a fish and awoke the next morning mostly looking stunning and refreshed with a different gorgeous guy each time. With that thought running around in my overtired and still slightly intoxicated brain, I thought of Joel. Maybe he was my one perfectly gorgeous guy. Maybe that was all I got.
The more I thought about him, the more irritated and annoyed I got. It wasn’t that he had basically thrown me out the door, because the truth was he didn’t. He was a perfect gentleman the morning after. No, the bit that was annoying me more than anything else was the fact that I had employed him and he hadn’t bothered to call. I had retained his professional services and he was supposed to have fulfilled specific obligations and he had failed. Frustrated, it took all my control and strength to not text him and say something I would regret later. No, I was more mature than that. First thing Monday morning I was going to contact his office and find out what the hell was going on.
Still annoyed, I found myself drooling over the Absolut hunk as I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When Monday arrived, I had made some momentous decisions regarding my life. I was going to take control and do with it what I wanted. I had spent the day before surfing the internet getting very familiar with my new best friend, Google. I was putting together my bucket list. It was so broad and varied. It had simple things like ice skating and go-karting, but then it had adventurous things too. I wanted to ride an elephant in the jungles of Thailand, and I wanted to see the great pyramids of Egypt, before climbing the Eiffel Tower in Paris at sunset. But first I was going to start small. I was going to get fit and skinny and start feeling good about myself. So when the alarm rudely interrupted me at six a.m. I wanted to kill someone. But then I remembered this was entirely my idea. Even if it was a stupid one. I tortured my body for the next half an hour while I followed the yoga instructor on TV through a rather painful session before exposing my already tired and sore body to cold and attempted a run. It almost killed me. My labored breaths formed fluffy white clouds of condensation in front of my face while my nose was so cold it felt like the tip would fall off. My plan had been to run for half an hour, then shower and start my day. Barely ten minutes in, I had a stitch in my side and could barely breathe. With my heart pounding madly in my chest, I walked the rest of the way.
“Morning,” other joggers greeted as they breezed past barely panting, let alone sweating.
By the time I stepped into the shower and let steam surround me, I recognized the extent of the weariness on my neglected body. It would take time to build up to running, but I’d get there. I was determined. First get fit. Feel good. Look fabulous. Then I’d get what I wanted. Or who I wanted.
After scoffing down my breakfast I stole a glance at the clock only it was just after eight. Too early to ring Joel and let him know my thoughts. Trying to distract myself, I vacuumed and did a load of washing. I threw out a pile of old trashy magazines and even dusted, something I hated more than anything else. Other than ironing, it was the single chore I despised the most.
The clock stuck nine and I could only hold out a few more minutes. At ten past I called the office’s main line. “Max Meredith & Sons, this is Madeline.”
“Good morning, Madeline. Could I please speak to Joel Matthews?”
“Could I ask who’s calling?”
Already, she was irritating me. I’m sure she was just doing her job and following the script written in front of her, but for some reason I found her completely patronizing. Why did I have to explain myself to her?
“It’s Gillian Dempsey,” I retorted, refusing to give more than was requested.
“And Ms. Dempsey, can I ask what it is regarding?” she chirped. I pictured her in my mind and it was definitely not complimentary. “Regarding the sale of my property.”
“Just a moment, I’ll see if he is available.” At that point Madeline must have pressed a button and the most annoying repetitive hold music came on. It was the sort of music you hear as you enter the big top at the circus. “I’m sorry, Mr. Matthews is tied up at the moment. Can I take a message?”
Now I was really pissed off. Tied up my ass; he was avoiding me. “Tell him if he does not contact me within the next three hours I will withdraw my properties from the market and take my business elsewhere.”
I heard Madeline gulp. I hoped I was intimidating her. I hoped she was scared of passing the message along. But as soon as the thought registered, I instantly felt sorry for the doe-eyed beauty. It wasn’t her fault that I was a dirty, desperate tramp who couldn’t keep my hands off the sexy real estate agent.
“Can…m-may I get your contact number?” she stammered, clearly shaken.
After giving her my mobile I thanked her, hoping that she wouldn’t bear the brunt of Joel’s anger in my place. I would have quite happily told him what I thought, but he was too chicken shit to talk to me like an adult, so poor, innocent Madeline had had to face my frustration.
The hours passed without a word. By four that afternoon, irritated had given way to furious. I couldn’t believe that he was so childish that he couldn’t even return a client’s phone call. I mean, he had a fancy car and a nice house, so he must be nice to some clients to have that sort of success, but obviously not the ones he slept with.
With only fifteen minutes left of the work day, I called the office again. This time Madeline, already wary of me, informed me that Joel was in a meeting and she would again pass on my message to return my call as soon as he finished. This time I managed to remember that it wasn’t Madeline who was at fault, and didn’t take my annoyance out on her.
By Friday I was fuming. Not only was my entire body aching from my newly enforced exercise regime, but I still h
adn’t heard back from Joel. This time I wasn’t going to give in or play nicely. I called his mobile directly. The fourth call, he answered.
“Hello,” he spat rudely.
“Joel! This is Gillian,”
“Yes, what can I do for you now, Gillian?” he asked dismissively. I could tell he was pissed, but I didn’t care. He didn’t get to make me the bad guy in this one. He knew what we were doing. If he’d have wanted to stop it he could have. But he didn’t.
“A return phone call would be a nice start,” I snapped back.
“Look, Gillian,” I heard him cough and clear his throat. “We are NOT in a relationship. For God’s sakes! Grow up and stop calling my office. I do not have to answer to you.” His raised voice was powerful.
On the other end of the phone I knew instantly that he meant every word he said, but I didn’t care. “Actually, Joel, you do. I employed you. I have a contract signed by the both of us stating that you work for me. I retained your services and on completion of your work you will be remunerated.” I felt smart. Not cocky, just right. And I was even surprised at myself that I was able to use all the words I wanted to and they made sense as they came out. I hadn’t faltered.
I heard him let out a deep breath. I could feel the tension in the silences. As much as it pained him, we both knew he had nowhere to go, even if he refused to admit it. “Well then. If that’s the way you want to play this one. Your unit will be in tomorrow’s paper and on exhibition tomorrow and Sunday. The house, as previously discussed, won’t hit the market until the tenants vacate in approximately four weeks and repairs have been carried out. Does that satisfy all of your questions, Ms. Dempsey?”
“Actually, I just have one more,” I said, using all my restraint to hold my voice steady and not lose my temper. “I’d like the name and contact details of your boss.”
“Excuse me?” I heard him gasp, evidently shocked at such a preposterous question.
“Your boss. Who do you report to? I need their name and contact details. Thank you.”
I heard him muttering under his breath but couldn’t make out the words. “My principal’s name is John McMasters,” he mumbled, I think driven by pure shock more than anything, before regurgitating a mobile number softly in the vain hope that I didn’t catch all the numbers.
“Thank you, Joel. You have been very informative this afternoon. I expect I’ll be hearing from you soon with regards to the unit’s progress,” I declared, clicking off.
Armed with information, I sat for a long while with a smug smile on my face. Round one had definitely gone to me. I wasn’t sure I was going to let Joel’s boss know how he was speaking to clients, but I thought I would give him some time to sweat it out. It wasn’t like I wanted to ruin what was so obviously a successful career, but as someone paying thousands of dollars in commission, I deserved better than to be spoken to like that.
Satisfied with the outcome and slightly chuffed with myself for not being an overly emotional girl but instead restrained and professional, I collapsed onto the lounge. Although it was a Friday night, I had begged off another night of dancing and debauchery with the girls. Instead, I had chosen a DVD, slippers, and a block of chocolate. With no one to impress, I had a long hot shower and pulled on my favorite grey sweat pants with holes in the knees and the hem falling down on one side, and an oversize jumper with a stain from something straight down the middle.
It was barely moments after I had made myself comfortable and settled into the lounge when the doorbell rang. Frustrated, I paused the movie and scrambled to the door.
The sight that met my eyes was one I hadn’t expected. Standing before me, apologetic smile plastered across his perfect face, was Joel. Still in his suit and tie despite the hour and the day, I could still tell he had only just finished work.
“Hi,” I mumbled, still completely shocked and embarrassed. I couldn’t have looked worse if I’d tried to. Yet again he was looking flawless.
“Ummm…h-hi,” he stuttered, running his hand through his hair although there was so much product there it didn’t move at all.
“What are you doing here?”
“I…aahhh…I…came to apologize. I was out of line this afternoon and I’m sorry. Actually, I was out of line all week. I knew you called, my receptionist gave me your messages, and I know that I had promised to call and let you know what was happening, but I didn’t want to have the inevitable complicated conversation about what happened.” Once he managed to start talking it came with a flourish. “Here,” he said, handing me a chilled bottle of white wine. It was a brand I had looked at many times and decided it wasn’t worth wasting that sort of money on.
“Thanks,” I said unenthusiastically. “Look, I know what happened the other night, but I honestly was calling about the unit. You said you would let me know how everything was going and I’ve never done this before, so I need you to tell me what I’m supposed to do. That’s all.”
Gulping, Joel flashed his lopsided grin, which made my heart flutter. “I know. I was just hoping to avoid this conversation. I guess I didn’t really think it through properly,” he admitted. I was secretly amused at his awkwardness.
We just stood there for a long moment looking at the ground. I pretended to read the label while Joel pretended to look out across the complex. Unable to stand the silence any longer, as bravely as I could, I asked, “Would you like to come in for a glass of this? I probably shouldn’t drink the whole bottle on my own.”
I saw the conflict in his eyes. He wanted to come in and have a drink but I think there was a reluctance to let things progress back to where they were the other night. Me, I wasn’t concerned. If that’s where they ended up I was okay with that. Beside the fact that he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, he was unbelievable in bed as well.
“I really shouldn’t,” he groaned with no conviction behind his words.
I couldn’t hide the disappointment that was clearly written all over my face. “Okay. No problems. Some other time, then.”
Neither of us went to move. I made no attempt to close the door and keep the warmth in, and he made no effort to turn around and walk away. After another strained moment, Joel shook his head in defeat. “Maybe just one glass. It’s Friday, after all.”
I stepped back and watched as he walked into my home. Instantly I wished I had cleaned up that afternoon. It wasn’t dirty and uninhabitable, but it was messy. I went to push the catalogues that were covering the entire kitchen counter into some kind of pile when Joel grabbed my hand unexpectedly. “Don’t worry about cleaning up.” His eyes held me captive for a moment longer than they should have. I could feel the warmth of his skin on mine.
Forcing the thoughts from my head, I pulled my hand away and rifled around the kitchen drawer looking for a corkscrew. As soon as I pulled it out, Joel took it and opened the bottle. Unable to just stand there, I made myself busy looking for my best wine glasses. I wanted a pair of glasses, not two that were mismatched. Inwardly I was cursing myself. His house had seemed so grown up and proper, and mine wasn’t even a comparison. It was messy and full of secondhand furniture. The cupboards were lined with photos and knick knacks collected over the years. Some were childhood collectibles while others reminded me of my parents, things I hadn’t been able to part with when I started to throw things out.
With the glasses full, I returned to the lounge and tucked my feet underneath me. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Joel walk around inspecting everything. I sipped my wine as he quietly inspected photo after photo. His eyebrows raised over some while sadness seemed to consume him as he examined others. Part of me wondered if he saw something else in the photos, some pain that was in his own past, but I knew better than to ask.
When he sat down next to me minutes later, the silence that consumed us was dangerous. I could feel the sexual tension filling the foot wide gap between our bodies. In an attempt to calm my nerves, I downed the rest of my glass of wine, hoping to take the edge off.
/> “Need more wine?” I asked, springing off the lounge with overwhelming enthusiasm.
I watched in awe as Joel finished his glass in one long pull. “Sure,” he agreed, reaching out and handing me his glass. In the exchange of glasses, the moment our fingers touched, I felt my face turn a beetroot red.
I busied myself in the kitchen trying to hide while I pulled myself together. I grabbed a box of crackers and half a slab of cheese and dumped them unceremoniously onto a plate before overfilling the glasses. As I was mopping up the spill with a floral tea towel, Joel called out, “Need a hand in there?”
“No, umm…thanks. I’m fine. Won’t be a second,” I dodged. I took the moment of privacy as a sign. I ran a hand roughly through my hair in a vain attempt to tame it, then tried to straighten my shirt and brush the fluff from it.
Walking back into the lounge it was strangely alluring to see that Joel had made himself comfortable in my home. I know I had invited him to do so, but to see him with his shoes kicked off, tie hanging on the arm of his chair, was simply intoxicating. Handing him his wine, I was extra careful to ensure no physical contact was made. If I let myself, I could see us easily back in the same situation as the other morning.
“So…” Joel began stuffing his face with cheese and crackers. “Remind me again why I’m watching this chick flick?”
Slightly relieved, I laughed sincerely. Despite the nerves and the erotic fantasies playing in my head, I genuinely like spending time with him. He was fun. He made me laugh. And that was exactly what I needed.
“Because this is my house and I control the remote.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep. My house, my rules,” I said stubbornly. I was trying to be tough, but this was definitely heading for treacherous ground.
For a while Joel didn’t say a word. Instead, he just slowly put his glass on the floor next to him and reached for the throw hanging on the back of the lounge behind our heads. When he spread it over my legs I almost died of shock. He was being so sweet. No one other than my dad had ever been that nice to me without wanting something in return.
Nobody Knows Page 6