by Nikki Logan
She remembered crossing her arms protectively over her own pathetic efforts and letting nasty Ava out to play. It had felt good. Given the pain somewhere to go.
‘How does she stay upright on the surfboard?’ she’d sneered.
The censure in the way he’d clipped her name then had hurt almost as much as seeing him lying on top of someone else. Hearing the hoarse ecstasy in his groan.
‘I’m twenty years old, Ava. I can sleep with whomever I like.’
Just not me, Ava thought now—not for the first time. Dan had never seen her as anything other than a child.
But his eyes when she’d angered him that night…They’d flooded with the same passion she’d glimpsed in them in the nanosecond before she’d fled out of his bedroom, and for the first time in her life her teenaged body had responded sensually.
Like a woman.
Ava drained the last of her coffee, shifting on the limestone levy to dislodge the uncomfortable tightening of her nipples that plagued her even now. Back then the feeling had confused her, surprised her.
But nowhere near as much as it had surprised Dan.
She remembered his exact expression as the tightening had drawn his focus to the buttons still undone on her blouse. Confused fire had flashed in those molten depths and he’d ripped his eyes violently away from the lace-covered curve of her young breasts. Breasts that had suddenly been aching.
His eyes had widened. The horror on his face had spoken volumes. It had made Ava’s breath catch as she’d fumbled the blouse buttons into their eyelets.
‘We’re just friends, Ava.’
Lord, that had been like steel wool on sunburn. He didn’t love her. Or even want her. Her heart had sunk beneath an ocean of shame. She’d wanted to run out into the dark ocean, make a miserable meal for some shark. But something imperceptible and irrevocable had shifted in the moment that her body had responded to the fire in his.
She’d grown up.
She held her breath now, remembering how close his half-naked body had suddenly felt in her beach grotto, how the frost of her breath in the cold night air had mingled with his. How he’d been both the cause and the only analgesic for the throbbing pain in her heart.
Her lips had fallen open and she’d locked eyes with him. Absolutely nothing on this earth to lose. One hundred percent woman.
One hundred percent deluded.
The doof-doof of a heavy bass beat dragged her attention back to the small harbourside park between her and the guesthouse. This might remind her of Flynn’s Beach, but she’d do well to remember that it wasn’t. This was Sydney. And that was a car full of young men out cruising after a night on the turps.
She let the car pass harmlessly by, then dragged herself to her feet and turned for the house. She’d been lost in her memories for over an hour out here. They swamped her, refusing to be set aside.
As she returned to the house, she noticed a light on at the back of Dan’s side of the house. Awareness bristled on her nape. Why was he up at three a.m.? Was he walking off disturbing vivid dreams too? Was he thinking about that night on the beach? How they’d fought?
The realist in her slapped those thoughts down. He was probably not even alone. A man like Dan was hardly likely to be wandering the halls pining for a woman like her. Particularly not her.
He’d been more than clear that night on the beach. He’d recognised her unspoken invitation, had stared at her for eternal moments, and then dragged his focus away—out to sea. When he’d brought it back, his eyes had been hard and empty.
Ava hadn’t seen them like that since he’d first come to her family, years before. His lips had paled, his jaw had tightened, and then he’d uttered the words that had burned into her young soul for ever.
‘I’ll never be with you, Ava—’
She’d failed miserably to disguise her flinch at the cruelty in those words. It had been like being dumped by the biggest, coldest wave conceivable. Air-stealing, baffling, aching pain. She’d scrambled to right herself on the ocean bottom.
‘You’re a child; I’m a grown man—’
Had he thought she wouldn’t understand the cold finality of those words? Had he truly needed to grind salt straight into the gaping wound in her chest? It burned again now, a referred pain from years ago. She’d never been enough for him.
‘—with the interests and needs of a grown man. Neither of which you could help much with, kiddo.’
Ava stiffened against what had come next. Her blinding attack. The indiscriminate slashing of a mortally wounded young woman. Anything to hurt him the way she’d been hurting. She closed her eyes. Oh, the poison that had poured from her lips…She’d attacked his intelligence, his integrity, and—she shook her head—his surfing. His only love in the world. By the time she was done, his hands had been shaking.
‘I was wrong to think we could get past this.’ He’d moved to stand. ‘I’m leaving in the morning—’
And just when she’d thought she had no heart left to break, she’d felt it rip completely free of her chest. He was leaving. On her birthday. The terror of losing him had cracked headlong against the hurt of his rejection, giving birth to a bright spark that had ignited the rocket-fuel of anger in her belly.
She’d never again spoken to another human being the way she’d spoken to him then. Shouting, crying. Dying.
‘You should leave. You’ve been like a blowfly hanging around ever since I can remember. Go find your own family!’
Stupid with grief, she’d shot to her feet and pursued him when he’d stalked off, unable to stomach the sight of her.
‘Like mother like son, huh, Dan? Running off when the going gets tough.’
The kettle’s song interrupted the painful memory, and Ava realised that it was tears, not steam, which dampened the kitchen benchtop. Her heart pounded with the realism of the ancient memory, and her throat ached as if she was still sixteen. She recalled vividly the anger in his eyes as he’d spun around and surged back towards her. She’d never in her life seen him so…dark. She had stumbled backwards, but his words had hit her like a barrage of gunfire.
‘I will never be with you, Ava. I don’t know how to make myself any clearer. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but you need to understand.’
Then he’d turned and stalked out of the grotto. And out of her life.
When she’d woken to her father’s gentle touch and his sombre, ‘Happy sweet sixteenth, princess,’ she’d known he’d already gone.
After the humiliation and agony of that night she’d never let someone get close again. She’d lost her confidence, her dignity. Her friend. She’d trussed up her heart in a lead box and buried it in the deepest abyss of her consciousness. She channelled herself into her schoolwork, then her studies, then her employment, and finally her business.
Daniel Arnot had taught her how to be impenetrable. It was a successful strategy that had achieved its goal perfectly.
Until now.
Now her protective casing had been peeled back, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to the one man who had hurt her more than any other. Not that he’d shown the slightest interest in her other than as an asset to his company. A dollar sign on a profit and loss report.
And probably just as well, because—judging by her feelings tonight, by her body’s physical response to events that had happened nearly a decade ago—if Daniel chose to turn all that Arnot charm on her she’d be powerless to prevent her body and her heart from overthrowing her carefully reinforced mind.
And that would be a very bad day.
Ava hugged her coffee close, stared at the brightening clouds of morning, and let a decade of pain stream down her face.
CHAPTER FIVE
DAN’S assistant let Ava into his spacious office and encouraged her to make herself comfortable. She moved towards the window, her arms wrapped protectively around her. She was still raw from her restless night, but more determined than ever, in the cold light of day, to find a way to exorcise Dan from her he
art.
His office wasn’t on the top floor, but it was close. And it was nearly bigger than the entire guesthouse in Harbourview Terrace. The last time she’d been here, she’d been too angry to really appreciate the tasteful decorations and magnificent outlook. She stared across the water. Somewhere on the other side was his sprawling waterfront house. Her temporary home.
He had certainly done well for himself in the years since he’d walked out on her family.
She’d kept up her awareness at first, through her brother, but after a while it had been easier not to ask. Not to wonder. It had just hurt too much to hear about his life. The many girlfriends. The great city career. She looked around. He must have worked hard to forge the sort of success that led to this kind of opulence at his relatively young age.
She trailed her fingers along the hardwood bookshelves, full of marketing and commerce tomes. She wondered if he read them or whether they were props. It didn’t matter what he wore or how big his office was, Ava had a hard time imagining him as the executive type. She remembered him as a young man in love with the ocean, not with the stock market. He’d been all set to become a pro-surfer.
‘We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?’
She spun around, embarrassed to be caught browsing the contents of his shelves. Her eyes caught the large indoor ficus now standing where the bamboo had been a few weeks ago. ‘What happened to your phyllostachys?’
‘Antibiotics cleared it right up.’ She blinked at him. He moved to his desk and flipped open a panel covered in buttons, smiling to himself. ‘Kidding, Ava. I moved the bamboo out of here a few weeks ago for some time outdoors. I noticed you weren’t happy with its condition.’
He had? Ava could barely remember looking at it. Her lips moved of their own will. ‘The ficus will do better.’
She fell to silence, but it was a far cry from the comfortable silences they’d once shared. In the good old days. Before hormones.
He waved a disk. ‘You did well these past two days. I’ve got some footage if you’d like to see it?’
Her stomach flipped. Oh, Lord—did she? Standing in front of a camera was one thing, but watching herself played back in close-up was quite another.
‘What if I stink?’
He smiled and closed the office door, until only an inch of light streamed in from the outer office. ‘You don’t stink. Quite the opposite.’
She sank onto the sofa in front of the large screen while Dan loaded the disk. Automatic blinds slid out of nowhere across the window and the lights in the office dropped as the television hummed to life.
‘These are only dailies, so they haven’t been edited or balanced yet,’ he warned.
On screen, Ava looked nervous, glancing around the rooftop set anxiously as the tape rolled before anyone called action. A sound assistant shot into frame briefly, to better disguise her radio microphone, and then she was alone on screen again. The camera zoomed right in on her eye, focussed sharp, and then pulled back out.
‘You look terrified,’ Dan commented through the darkness. ‘But wait…’
Ava watched herself glance off to one side for the barest moment, see something there, and then turn her face back towards the camera. The fear and tension faded. She took a deep breath, tugged Dan’s business shirt more securely across her front, and smiled.
Dan froze the image and that brilliant smile lit the office. She jumped as his voice sounded right behind her.
‘What did you see? Then…when you looked away?’
Ava knew exactly. She remembered it. But no way was she going to tell him.
I saw you.
He’d walked past with the director and given her an encouraging smile just as she was about to start. At the time she’d appreciated the show of support, but had no clue what a difference it had made to her face, her fear. Until now. She looked at the giant eyes on screen and recognised that dazzled expression one hundred percent.
Oh, Ava, girl, you’re going to have to learn to cover that up.
‘I don’t know,’ she lied. ‘There was a lot going on.’
‘Well, whatever it was it was good. It put you in a different place. Watch how you change.’ Dan thumbed the ‘play’ button and the first to-camera segment began. On-screen-Ava introduced herself and spoke briefly about the inner city roof space they’d be working on. She dropped a line mid-way through, paused, and calmly commenced again from that point, running smoothly through until Brant walked into the shot on cue.
She was no actress, but she wasn’t bad either. Relief trickled through her body. Dan sank onto the sofa next to her as the disk played on. There was a second take of the whole introductory segment, and then some straight-to-camera pieces of Brant’s. Then there was a two-shot, with herself and Brant walking through the desolate urban roof space.
‘You look good together,’ Dan murmured from the shadows next to her ear.
‘That’s what Brant said.’
‘Hmm…I’ll bet.’
Ava smiled, distracted by the scene playing out. She was going to have to get used to seeing herself on screen. She understood suddenly why television starlets were so bird-like in reality. The camera forgave nothing. Well, they’d wanted ‘healthy’…
The footage played through, and Ava smiled at the vaguely flirtatious on-camera interaction of her co-host. It made for good television, and it was nowhere near as sleazy on camera as it had felt in person. Brant obviously had a good instinct for what worked on screen.
When the entire disk had played, Dan lounged next to her, his arm slung across the sofa-back in the darkness. Without the monitor casting its sickly glow, the only illumination in the room was a thin shaft of light that spilled in from the outer office. Otherwise it was just the two of them, alone in the dark. Ava stiffened.
‘What do you think?’ He was disturbingly close. Ava forced herself to ignore the ambrosial scent of his aftershave. Like something mixed especially for her from her favourite things.
Ocean, forest and Dan.
She wasn’t used to blowing her own trumpet, but she actually didn’t stink! ‘I’m happy with it. Are you?’
Dan made a so-so gesture and her heart sank. ‘For a first day, yes, it’s good,’ he said. ‘There are some things we need to tighten.’
What he thought shouldn’t have mattered so much, but disappointment flooded through her at his less than enthusiastic response. ‘It’s only the first day…’
‘It’s also the first thing new viewers will watch. We sink or swim on that first day’s shooting.’
He was right, but she struggled to see what was so terribly wrong with it. Naturally, he enlightened her. ‘The lighting wasn’t even between shots,’ he went on. ‘Some of the camera work could have been tighter. Your movements weren’t the height of grace…’
Ava’s cheeks burned in the darkness. He’d have to feel the furnace cooking away next to him, surely? She put her hands up to dampen the heat as excuses started tumbling across her lips.
‘It wasn’t the same as the run-throughs. The layout of the rooftop was different in rehearsal…’
I’ve never done this before!
‘We’ll be rescheduling to allow rehearsals on location to help with that. So you’ll feel more comfortable when we roll.’
Ava felt the bite of his censure—all too like that other time. Thank God for the low light. ‘Was there anything you were happy with?’
‘Sure. Your to-camera work is great. The sound was faultless. And the byplay between yourself and Maddox is fun. That’ll sell.’
Ah, yes. Ratings. What would work well on television and what wouldn’t. Presumably a clod-footed host stumbling over air-conditioning ducts wouldn’t. Ava swallowed her pride and listened as Dan outlined the changes he wanted to make before the next shoot. If she could have separated her brain from her heart she would have recognised they were nothing dramatic or particularly difficult. Nothing that a second day of experience wouldn’t fix.
But as she sat i
n the dark, listening to Dan’s honey voice pulling her performance to pieces, she just couldn’t be dispassionate about it. His opinion mattered. His disappointment hurt.
‘Ava?’
‘Sorry? What?’
Irritation tightened his tone. ‘Was there anything you wanted to ask me? Anything you don’t understand?’
I don’t understand how you can have changed so much. ‘No. I’m good.’
He shifted in the dark. Paused. ‘I’ve upset you.’
The obtuseness in his voice was the absolute last straw. ‘Why would you say that? Just because I did my very best, with no experience and not much instruction?’ She surged to her feet. ‘This was your plan, Dan, not mine. If I’m not quite what you were hoping for then you can talk it over with your network buddies and fire me. I’m all too happy to return to my design work and chalk this up as a really bad idea.’ She stumbled to her feet.
‘Ava, wait…’ Dan’s hand closed around hers as she yanked the door open. Light pooled in from the outer office, illuminating the regret in his face. She knew it must also show the hurt and anger in hers. He pulled her into the office—into him—letting the door swing closed again. The darkness was like a warm cloak around her.
‘I’m sorry. I forgot you’re new to the idea of critical feedback.’
Ava dropped her lashes, ashamed at her unprofessional outburst, but not ready to still not be good enough for him.
‘I should have taken more care,’ he said gently, his thumb stroking the underside of her wrist. It was strangely comforting. And more than a bit distracting. ‘You’ve always been so tough, Ava. Scrabbling straight to your feet after wrecking your bike. Backing younger kids in a fight.’
He was gentling her now, making good on his mistake, but knowing that didn’t change its effect on her one bit. She softened like butter in summer.
‘I wanted to do well.’ For you.
‘You did do well, Ava. Did you expect to be perfect?’
She blushed. ‘Yes. I hoped to be.’
‘Ah. Revenge?’
He understood. She remembered that about him. He always got her. Her voice was wry. ‘I was hoping to stick it to the faceless suits at the network by being the best I could possibly be.’