Bound by Their Love

by Nicole Flockton

  Her body vibrated with desire at the thought of hearing his voice again. His hands touching her body again.

  Her heart wanted her to respond, yes. Her mind was telling her no. It would be a huge mistake to meet Jeff again. She knew it wouldn’t just be drinks. It would end up being much, much more. For the sake of her sanity and her career, she needed to be strong.

  She typed her reply.

  Sorry I can’t. I need to work late.

  It was a lame excuse but at least it wasn’t I have to wash my hair.

  A knock on the door had her dropping her phone.

  ‘Greta, have you got a minute?’

  Finally, her father had come to her. Surely now he’d be telling her he was proud of her.

  ‘Sure Dad.’

  ‘Good,’ he responded brusquely. ‘Come to my office and bring your ideas for the Morelli/Courteux account.’

  ‘Absolutely, I’ll be there in five minutes.’

  He nodded and walked out of her office. She took a couple of deep breaths to quell her still churning stomach. Why on earth she was nervous to see her father?

  Once she had the churning under control, she opened her drawer. Extracting all her presentation information and the notes she’d made over the last two days.

  As she went to leave her office, Graham appeared in her doorway.

  ‘Good morning, Greta. We need to talk.’

  ‘Hi, Graham. I can’t talk I’m on way to a meeting with Dad.’

  ‘You’ll want to hear what I have to say.’

  His tone had her paying a little more attention to him. He’d always had an arrogant, slimy demeanour about himself. Today, standing in her doorway, it was more pronounced.

  She placed the materials back on her desk and then sat down. ‘What is so important? You know Dad, he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

  Graham sauntered into her office and shut the door.

  ‘If you don’t want to hear what I have to say, I’m sure your father will, and when he does, well, let’s just say he’ll know what I’ve always known.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ Impatience fired through her like a bullet out of a gun.

  ‘That you sleep around to get your accounts.’

  Greta bit back a gasp. She’d only ever slept with one client.

  Jeff.

  Only she hadn’t known that at the time. Besides, she’d already gone over her winning the account with Jeff. It didn’t matter what Graham said or thought.

  ‘What on earth are you getting at? I’ve earned every single account by coming up with the best campaign.’ Greta gathered up her things again and headed toward her door, wanting nothing more than to slap Graham hard.

  ‘What about Jeffrey Courteux? Certainly looked like you were going above and beyond the call of a simple advertising campaign the other night.’ He walked to where she stood by her desk. ‘In fact, the two of you looked very intimate indeed at Palazzo Regent’s bar. More intimate than people who’d just met that morning. I should’ve known there was more to you winning that campaign than just some clever ideas.’

  Dread permeated her soul, Graham had seen her and Jeff. She racked her brain back to when they’d been in the bar. They hadn’t kissed. But Jeff had pulled her to stand between his legs. Definitely not an action by two people who’d just met.

  Graham wanted something in return for his silence. There was no way she was going to admit to anything going on between her and Jeff.

  ‘What do you want, Graham? And make it quick. I need to go see Dad.’

  ‘I want in on the account.’

  She laughed at the absurdity of his demand. ‘That’s impossible and you know it. You heard Luciano Morelli. If he finds out that you’re anywhere near the account he’s going to pull it.’

  A sinister look appeared in Graham’s eyes. A look she’d never seen before. Her confidence in being able to push him and his ideas aside wavered. ‘Then you’ll have to make sure he doesn’t find out, won’t you?’

  ‘This is ridiculous, Graham. Dad wouldn’t do anything to endanger the account. It would cost him too much to lose it. So why don’t you run along and concentrate on your own accounts? Or better yet, gaining more accounts for the firm and leave. Me. Alone.’

  ‘Ah, Greta you’re so naïve. I’ll give some ideas you can incorporate. Later, babe.’

  Graham opened the door and slunk out. He was delusional. There was no way in hell she was going to let him anywhere near the account. There was no way she would do anything to put the reputation of her father’s firm at risk. She may be annoyed at her dad, but he was the only dad she had. She would never hurt him that way.

  Getting herself under control, Greta strode down the hallway, heading toward Dad’s office, wondering what she was about to walk into. Hoping against hope she could get through the meeting without blurting out Graham’s threat. She suspected her father wouldn’t believe her, no matter how convincing she could be. She would deal with the situation. She could handle Graham and his demands. Keep the account on the right track. She had no other choice.

  She knocked briskly and opened the door. Her father was on the phone but he motioned her in.

  Greta took a seat and placed her materials in front of her. Making sure she had everything in order for her father to look over.

  ‘I’m sorry for not getting here sooner, Dad,’ she said once he’d hung up the phone. ‘I had an unexpected visit.’

  He waved away her excuse. ‘It’s fine. Now, let me have a look at what you’ve come up with for this campaign.’ He looked over the top of his glasses at her, like her old school principal used to do. ‘This account is very important. We can’t afford to have a second rate campaign.’

  Still no Congratulations. I’m proud of you honey.

  ‘I think you’ll find this campaign will make its mark on the advertising world. It’s going to be the start of great things for the agency. Once clients see what we’ve done for Regents and Jeff—um, Mr Courteux, they’ll be knocking on our doors, begging for us to come up with their next campaign.’

  ‘Hmm, we’ll see.’ Her father appeared engrossed looking over the drawings of how she envisaged the jewellery in television, print and online media. She hoped he hadn’t heard her hesitation when she’d spoken Jeff’s name.

  When he finished looking over her layouts he placed them in a neat pile. ‘I don’t know about this, Greta. These ideas of yours are too outlandish. How on earth do you plan to highlight the jewellery against the backgrounds you’re suggesting? Are you planning on knocking on the door of one of the biggest diamond mining companies in the world and asking to be let onto their working mine site? No, I’m sorry, we’re going to have to make modifications.’

  Greta clenched her fists against the need to yell out at her father. Why did he always have to question everything she did? She’d come up with so many innovative ideas on so many occasions, only to have them rejected.

  Sure, getting out to the diamond mine might be difficult, but not impossible. She took a deep breath, controlling her anger. ‘Dad, Mr Courteux has an arrangement to get his pearls from Fierro’s in Broome. Luciano Morelli’s Regent Hotels also have an agreement with the pearl farm. Getting to that site to take the underwater shots of the pearl farm and the jewellery won’t be a problem. As for the diamond mine, I was going to approach Mr Morelli. See if he can help me get a meeting with the marketing department.’ She sat forward, warming to her topic. ‘I’m sure they’d like to have their product brought to the public’s attention. Not only with celebrity designer Jeffrey Courteux, but with a powerful corporation like the Morelli Corporation.’

  Her father laughed. ‘Granted, I think you could probably get onto the pearl farm. The diamond company is world-renowned in its own right. It doesn’t need to feel associated with a designer and another company.’ He studied the top ad layout again. ‘Nope, I think we’ll have to make modifications.’

  She breathed in and out five times. Releasing the anger building inside
of her. ‘Dad, Luciano and Jeffrey agreed with all my ideas. They liked what I presented. They chose me because of these ideas and the vision I’d created. Why can’t you support me in this? Why can’t you actually say congratulations to your own daughter who just landed your advertising agency a huge account?’

  Her father sighed. ‘I am proud of you, Greta. This is definitely a coup for the firm. We’ll fine-tune your ideas. Tone them down a fraction. Maybe incorporate some of the more traditional themes of displaying the jewellery. We’ll have to reconsider the models wearing the pieces at the opening.’

  ‘No, Dad, we’re not changing a single thing about the opening gala. I won’t budge on that and neither will Jeff. He loved the idea and thought it would demonstrate his collection to the best advantage.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see.’

  ‘I can’t believe this, Dad, why are you doing this?’

  ‘Because I still run this agency. It’s my name associated with this campaign. If it falls flat on its face, my name goes with it.’

  The urge to stamp her foot and pound her fist on the table threatened to erupt out of her. ‘I bet you wouldn’t do this if it was Graham who had won the account.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t, because his campaign would be traditional.’

  ‘Boring, you mean. He can’t even present properly.’ Greta wanted to snatch the words back. She couldn’t let her father know what Jeff had told her.

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on here, Greta, but if anyone should be upset about missing out on getting the account it should be Graham. Not you.’

  Her frustration levels were climbing higher with every word he spoke. But he wasn’t going to sway her to change anything.

  ‘You’re not tearing apart my whole campaign, Dad. I won’t allow it.’ She stood and gathered her layout boards. ‘I created this campaign. I convinced Luciano and Jeff to take a chance on me. I respect you as my boss and I love you as my father. But I won’t let you water down my campaign.’

  All Greta wanted was to lie down and sleep for a week. After walking out on her father she’d left the office and walked to the park. People-watching was a favourite pastime, but even that didn’t calm the anger festering inside of her.

  Now she was home and couldn’t wait to get inside. She inserted her key in the lock and was about to open it when she heard the sound of another door opening.

  ‘Greta. I thought it was you. Do you have a minute?’

  She turned to see Sheree popping her head out the door. ‘You’re home already?’ Greta thought for sure the other woman would’ve stayed longer at the hospital.

  Sheree laughed. ‘Yeah, I didn’t want to hang around in the hospital. It’s not like it’s my first time at doing this. Besides, the birth was easy so there was no need for me to stay at the hospital longer than a couple of days. The midwife is making house calls.’

  ‘You call giving birth in a lift easy?’ she laughed, and walked toward Sheree.

  The other woman opened the door wider so Greta could enter. ‘Yes, well, I had been in labour for a while before she finally decided to enter the world. I still can’t believe she’s here. She wasn’t due for another two weeks.’

  Greta couldn’t think of anything worse than being in labour. She’d seen the pain Sheree had gone through a couple of days ago. To experience that amount of pain for any length of time, well, she just couldn’t. ‘So when did you get home?’

  ‘The hospital discharged me about three this afternoon. I had to run a couple of errands so I’ve not been home long.’

  ‘You ran errands? What was so important that you had to do it straight after being discharged? What did your husband say?’

  Sheree laughed as she got up and walked over to the hall table. She picked up a package and came back to Greta. ‘He was with me and agreed this needed to be done.’ She held out the package toward Greta. ‘Saying thank you seems so inadequate for what you did a couple of days ago. I wanted to get you something.’

  Greta could feel heat warming her cheeks. She wasn’t used to being given spontaneous gifts. She accepted the brightly wrapped gift. The little girl in her wanted to rip at the paper. Instead she slowly removed the ribbon and then started on the paper, this time ripping it. She lifted the lid off the box and stared at the contents. All thoughts left her mind. Sound faded and she was transported back to the stuck lift. Back to the moment where she’d experienced one of life’s miracles.

  Sheree had captured the exact moment when the baby had lifted her tiny hand and patted Greta’s cheek. But it was the look on her own face that made speech impossible. She’d never considered herself a maternal person; but looking at the picture, seeing the way she was looking at the baby, she could almost imagine being a mother. Holding her own child.

  ‘Are you okay, Greta?’

  ‘It’s beautiful, Sheree.’ Greta looked up, knowing her eyes were brimming with tears. ‘Thank you for giving it to me.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I thought I’d missed getting the shot. I know my little girl was saying thank you to you.’

  Greta got up and did something she never thought she’d ever do. She gave Sheree a hug. In the space of a few days, her life had changed so much.

  ‘Would you like a drink? Coffee or juice or wine?’ Sheree asked.

  ‘I’ll take a juice thanks.’ Greta didn’t think she was up for wine just yet and she never drank coffee in the afternoon.

  ‘Okay, I’ll be right back. I put the coffee machine on just before you arrived.’

  Sheree disappeared into the kitchen and Greta looked around the apartment. It was a similar set-up to hers, but bigger. Which it needed to be for a growing family.

  Sheree returned and handed Greta her juice. The aroma from the coffee cup reached Greta. Immediately her stomach protested the smell.

  Sheree sniffed appreciatively from her mug. ‘I couldn’t stand the smell of coffee when I was pregnant. I’m savouring it now.’

  ‘It does smell strong,’ Greta said, breathing out of her mouth in an attempt to settle her stomach.

  Sheree gave Greta a quizzical look. ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’

  Greta laughed at the absurdity of her question. ‘Why would you ask that?’

  ‘My coffee isn’t that strong. I always know when I’m pregnant because my stomach turns at the slightest smell of coffee. So are you?’

  Greta’s mirth at Sheree’s question died as the realisation struck. She hadn’t had her period recently.

  No. No. Her mind screamed.

  No she couldn’t be pregnant. Could she?

  ‘I, don’t, umm,’ Greta stopped and took another sip of juice. hoping it would dislodge the lump that had developed in her throat. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Are you sure? I’ve got a test, if you want to take it?’

  The more the thought floated in her mind the more it took root. It had been over a month since she and Jeff had first slept together. They’d used a condom. Though she knew that wasn’t always a guarantee.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I think I may need to.’

  Greta hoped the test came back negative. There was no possible way she could handle a baby. No way at all.

  Chapter 12

  Sitting at the bar at Palazzo Regent was not how Greta had imagined spending her evening. She checked her watch again. It was now close to eight-thirty. She should’ve sent Jeff a text to let him know she was going to meet him after all. It was so stupid to turn up without letting him know. He could already be on the way back to Broome and her opportunity to talk to him was gone.

  Her brain hadn’t formed a sensible thought since those two blue lines had shown up on the pregnancy test. At that moment her life had taken a major turn. One she hadn’t counted on. But one she would have to face head-on. And that meant telling the father of her child as soon as possible.

  ‘So you decided to turn up after all?’

  Greta jumped at the sound of the gravelly voice. Had her thoughts conjured him u
p? She turned to face Jeff. The man standing in front of her was a remote stranger. There was no warmth in his eyes and she couldn’t understand why he’d be so cold toward her.

  Perhaps the middle of a bar was not the place to have this conversation.

  ‘Hi. I, um, hadn’t planned on turning up. But,’ she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Something’s come up that we need to talk about. Can we go up to your room?’

  ‘I’ve checked out. I only came back to collect my bags. My flight leaves in a couple of hours so I need to get to the airport soon.’

  Okay, so he wasn’t going to make this easy for her.

  ‘How about we get a table then?’

  Jeff nodded and Greta hopped off the stool. Weaving through the tables, she found an empty one tucked away in the corner. The noise from the other patrons of the bar didn’t seem so loud when she sat.

  He crossed his arms as he took the seat opposite her. ‘So what do you want to talk about?’

  How did she tell him? Did she just blurt it out? Would he believe it was his baby or would he think it was someone else’s? The questions crowded through her mind at maximum speed.

  ‘There’s no easy way to say this.’ Her voice trailed off. She wished she had a drink. Something she could put her hands on to ground her to reality. Everything seemed to be happening in a dream. ‘I still can’t believe what I’m about to tell you.’

  ‘What is it, Greta? I don’t have all night.’

  The man sitting in front of her wasn’t the man who had worshipped her body so thoroughly the other night. Her refusal can’t have upset him that much?

  Greta took a deep breath, closed her eyes and then opened them, looking straight at him. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Jeffrey looked at Greta, trying to take in what she’d just said. ‘Did you just say you’re pregnant?’

  At her nod, he sat back running his fingers through his hair. No, it was impossible; they’d used protection.