by Nikki Logan
‘What lies did you tell? Sounds to me like all you did was hedge.’
‘Lying by omission.’
‘That’s not lying. That’s politics.’
Ava muttered, realigning herself to lie next to Dan. He sounded so sure of himself. She mentally shook her head. She’d never get used to the kind of world he moved in.
She kissed the soft pads of his fingers. ‘What did she ask you?’
‘I think my cryptic answers frustrated her. She asked about my career, my professional pedigree—yadda-yadda. All public record stuff, so I think she was warming me up.’
‘Then what?’
‘Super-fast rise, string of successes. Most people compromise their integrity along the way.’
Ava knew how she would have reacted to such an insult. Integrity was as important to Dan as it was to her. ‘Like she can talk! What did you say to that?’
‘I told her that the secret was in remaining honest to your roots. That keeping close to my childhood friends was the key.’
Her lips stilled on his hands and she looked at him. ‘Friends, plural?’
‘No, singular. Thanks for the heads-up about Steve. Mentioning him directly took the bite right out of Leeds’ attack.’
She tucked his hand into her chest. His fingers lazily traced the under curve of one breast. Tiny shivers raced across her skin. ‘I didn’t know what else to say,’ she murmured.
‘It was the right thing to say.’ He gazed at the light streaming in the window and idly stroked her naked shoulder. ‘I’m sorry that you have to be cagey at all—it’s not how I’d like it to be. In a perfect world we could be out and proud right now.’
‘Right now?’ She smiled seductively.
He twisted free of her hold. ‘Keep giving me that smutty little smile and I will be out and proud.’
His mouth found hers, putting conversation on hold while they feasted hungrily on each other. Finally he pulled free, sprinkling little kisses across her jaw before lifting his head. ‘I have something to ask you.’
Dan’s uncertainty intrigued her. She’d never seen him lost for words.
‘Tomorrow night.’ The ATA Awards dinner. ‘I’d like…Would you…? I realise you’re going anyway, but would you go with me?’
It was hard to keep the confusion from her voice. ‘But don’t we have to—?’
‘Maddox, yes. But you and I will know…secretly…that you’re with me.’ Dark eyes held grey ones.
You’re with me. The three most seductive words in the universe. Ava felt their impact deep in her gut, in a primal place. They entirely eclipsed those other words from her past. I will never be with you. She breathed deeply before answering, reminding herself that in a few months her contract would be over and she’d be returning to Flynn’s Beach. She wouldn’t get this chance again.
‘Yes, Dan. I’d love to go with you.’
His features softened and his eyes darkened and intensified. Tension she hadn’t even noticed he held drained out of him. He trailed the back of one hand over the curve of her neck. He leaned in close to her mouth and his words were almost lost in his kiss. ‘Thank you.’
Every kiss just got better and better. How did he do that?
She sighed into his mouth and tried not to let her love show. Surely this would be enough? He didn’t have to give her for ever. He laid his hand gently at her nape and shifted over her.
This would be enough.
‘It’s not enough!’ Carrie examined Ava’s flushed face critically. ‘This is the Australian Television Awards, Ava. Red carpet, cameras, claws at the ready. If ever there was an occasion to break the make-up rule, it’s tonight.’
‘I think it’s perfectly fine—’
‘Perfectly bland is what it is.’ Carrie bustled Ava into the bathroom, where a large mirror was rimmed with bright lights. She yanked open the marble vanity and groaned at the paucity of its contents.
‘Honestly, Ava. A dress like that needs complementing, not contrasting. You’re going to have to trust me on this one, okay? Do you even have mascara on?’
Ava sighed heavily, knowing it was a lost cause. The network limo wasn’t due for twenty minutes; she had time to indulge Carrie. A little. ‘Okay, but don’t go crazy.’
There was nothing crazy about the end result. It was more make-up than she had ever worn before, but the deep slashes of copper across her eyes, the way the kohl fringed her lashes, the artful application of colour to her cheeks and jaw complemented her loaned dress perfectly.
The network had sent a rep from a fashion designer round the day before to measure up. She hadn’t recognised his name, and had been duly resigned to wearing whatever minuscule monstrosity they demanded of her. But the designer had been astute, and the dress he’d sent was stunning. Exactly what she might have chosen for herself—if she’d had a choice. Modest, simple, earthy.
That last point, particularly, brought a lump to her throat. Maybe the network was finally getting her.
Moss-green fabric melted across her body, with the subtlest traces of a leaf motif, depending which way she turned in the light. A tiny clutch of embroidered leaves across one shoulder held the dress up. A mastery of hidden internal suspension held the rest of her up.
It was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn. And Carrie’s magic fingers had given her a face to match. Except now…She gnawed her lip and said, ‘Hair?’
Carrie glanced at her watch anxiously. ‘We have time.’
They didn’t, but they worked quickly together to trap Ava’s locks in a creation worthy of any wedding. Forty hasty hairpins and a spritz of hairspray later, and her honey-blonde tresses finally did justice to the rest of her.
Carrie nodded with satisfaction. ‘I’m going to have to sit with someone else now. So as not to be the dull one.’
Ava laughed. Carrie’s plunging fire-engine-red dress was anything but dull. ‘You have to sit with someone else anyway, don’t you?’ she teased. ‘Somewhere in the cheap seats…?’
Carrie feigned outrage, her fingers reaching for the pins. ‘That’s it…’
Both women emerged, laughing, into the living room. Ava had left the front door open, awaiting Brant’s arrival, and they saw him perfectly framed in the doorway, pulling up and clambering out of his car.
Cadence was driving.
Ava held her breath and glanced at Carrie, who looked curious but not fascinated as Brant stretched over and kissed the shadowy figure goodbye. She probably figured it was just Brant’s latest pair of legs. He loped towards them across the lawn. Her heart went out to Cadence, who shouldn’t have to sit out such an important occasion in Brant’s career. Ava knew she must see her, standing illuminated at the front of the guesthouse, and waved subtly, trying not to draw Carrie’s eye.
She knew the little toot Cadence gave as she took off was as much for her as Brant.
The man in question checked out both women thoroughly. ‘You both look amazing,’ he said, swooping in to kiss Ava’s cheek and then Carrie’s.
‘Don’t mess the make-up!’ the women shrieked together, then burst out laughing.
‘Been on the champagne already?’ a familiar deep voice asked.
Ava’s heart flip-flopped. She turned as Dan emerged through the side gate from his property and strode towards them between the gardenias she’d been training up since she’d moved in. Her throat constricted. She’d seen him in business suits plenty of times, but in a formal tuxedo—and not a cheap one—he was completely…
‘Breathtaking.’ Dan spoke for her, as his glowing eyes drifted over her from her gravity-defying hair to her perfectly painted toenails. She knew what a picture she must present, golden tresses piled high, neck and throat bare, figure-hugging dress and the highest of strappy high heels. There was no disguising the longing in his gaze. Not that he looked to be trying particularly hard.
‘Hi, Dan.’ Carrie’s welcome was pointed.
Ava had to force her eyes away from Dan’s, and she blinked to clear th
em. But not quickly enough. Carrie’s eyes rounded in astonishment as the penny finally dropped. Her mouth fell open.
Brant, always attuned to the vibe of a crowd, broke the awkward silence, flattering both women and moving things along nicely with his usual panache. He looked fantastic himself in his designer tuxedo. His moss-coloured tie was a perfect match to her dress—no accident, she was sure. The network was still at it. They’d been dressed to impress, or at least to leave an impression.
Of togetherness.
You and I will know… Ava remembered a week of lazy afternoons—and late nights—and thrilled to hold that secret between them. In a room full of celebrities they would have eyes only for each other.
‘Practised your acceptance speech, Maddox?’ Dan said, relaxed.
‘Practised yours, Arnot?’
Some of the frost had chipped off Dan’s attitude since Ava had told him about Brant and Cadence. The four of them had even been to dinner together. Being public, Cadence had necessarily ‘partnered’ Dan. His expression on seeing her in full Goth regalia had said it all, but within the hour Cadence’s amazing mind had won him over completely. He’d relaxed into an easy repartee with her and—astonishingly—she’d even blushed clear through her pale make-up at something he’d said.
Not one to hold a grudge, Brant had accepted Dan’s im-proved attitude towards him gracefully. But still…boys would be boys.
Dan practically growled Brant away from Ava.
An enormous gleaming vehicle materialised out on the street, surprising them all. How something that large moved that quietly Ava didn’t know. Brant was the first to the door, followed closely by Carrie, who appeared completely blasé about their transport. So did Dan.
Ava sighed. Was she the only one never to have ridden in a limo?
‘You guys go on ahead,’ Dan said quietly. ‘I need a quick word with Ava.’ He nudged the door partway closed behind Carrie.
Ava turned to him, a question on her lips, but Dan silenced it by pressing his mouth to hers. He didn’t mash—sensitive, maybe, to how long it had taken to put on her awards face—but he held her tightly to him as he kissed her breath away.
Finally he raised his head. ‘We can’t go.’
‘Why not?’ Oxygen depletion robbed her of sense.
‘Because I need, very badly, to kiss you again. Right now.’ His lips hovered just above hers. ‘You look sensational. Did I tell you that?’
Ava smiled, not so secretly pleased. ‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘I picked that dress personally. I love it on you.’
She should have known. It was truly perfect.
‘But I’d love it even more off you.’ He kissed her again, walking her backwards towards the bedroom door. ‘Except the killer heels. You can keep those on.’
She laughed against his lips, twisting reluctantly out of his grip. ‘The car’s waiting.’
He scooped her towards him, his hips pressed firmly against her. ‘Let them wait.’
She knew he wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be, with two of his staff and the company limo waiting only metres away. Could he?
‘Later.’ Her huskiness surprised even her.
‘Promise?’
She turned and teased her lips across his. ‘I promise.’
A quick mirror-check later they were out through the front door, hurrying towards the idling limo.
The excitement, the glamour, the dress, Dan’s closeness.
As long as she lived, she’d remember this fairytale night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AVA didn’t recognise the stocky man waiting inside the limo, but she recognised the expressions on the faces of her friends. Carrie’s was pale and horrified. Brant’s was furious as he stared at the newspaper in his hand.
‘Bill?’ Dan’s voice was instantly suspicious as he pulled the door closed behind them. This man was not expected.
‘The evening edition just hit the stands,’ the older man said, a fevered excitement barely disguised in his eyes.
Dan reached over and took a newspaper from the seat opposite and started to read it.
The man turned to Ava. ‘Bill Kurtz, Ms Lange. It’s nice to finally meet you.’
Kurtz. The man who’d been making Dan’s life a misery. The man who’d deemed Cadence below par. The man who’d been setting her up with the media. She took his hand reluctantly, distracted by the fury banking in Dan’s eyes as he scanned the newspaper. She looked across at Brant, who was also still reading.
‘That bitch…’ Brant said.
Carrie reached out and put her hand on Ava’s leg, sympathy etched into the sudden creases on her face. Ava’s stomach plummeted.
The feature article.
‘What the hell happened?’ Dan exploded in the confines of the vehicle, his intensity completely focussed on Bill Kurtz.
‘You tell me,’ the older man said, a nerve pounding high in his jaw.
Brant threw his copy of the paper onto the empty seat in disgust, and Ava read the headline upside down.
‘Unlikely starlet’s success proves it’s not what you know…’
She sucked in a breath. Oh, no…
‘This is more than assassination, Bill. This is libel.’ Dan scanned the remainder of the long article quickly.
‘I imagine The Standard’s researchers have been all over it,’ Kurtz said.
She reached for the paper and Brant stilled her hand. ‘You shouldn’t read it, Ava…Not tonight,’ he said.
Carrie jumped in. ‘She has to, Brant. She’s about to walk into the lions’ den.’
Ava’s confused glance swung around to Dan. He raked an agitated hand through his hair and shook his head.
‘I’ll read it—’ Kurtz offered eagerly. Dan virtually snarled at him.
‘I’ll read it!’ Brant said, and threw Ava an apologetic glance. He lifted the paper and cleared his throat. Twice. ‘“Just when the status of women in media appeared to be reaching new heights, along comes a nobody from the sticks—”’
‘Cow,’ Carrie interrupted.
Ava blinked. Offensive, but not the end of the world. She noted Dan’s pale face and Kurtz’s smug satisfaction. What was she missing?
Brant read on. ‘“Ava Lange appeared out of nowhere onto our screens and seemed, at first take, to be a strike for real women on television. Heavier than most of her peers—”,’ Ava repressed her instinctive wince at that and Brant flushed red ‘“—but smarter and every bit as talented, she looked like a new breed in female presenters.”’
Ava could feel it coming. But…
‘“But one day in the company of Ms Lange and her sycophantic collective of supporters and it becomes clear what’s really going on behind the cameras on the set of Urban Nature.”’
Ava met Dan’s eyes and held them. Agony filled his.
‘“The show reeks of nepotism, dirty secrets and spin-doctoring.”’ Brant skipped ahead, touching only on the worst parts. The parts she had to hear. ‘“Lange is an old friend of hot-shot young producer Daniel Arnot, proving that jobs for the boys aren’t restricted to those with testosterone. Arnot himself admitted to practically writing the show for Lange…”’
Ava’s hands began to shake, and nausea washed through her. But her eyes never left Dan’s. In her periphery, Kurtz’s glare was trained in the same direction.
‘“It took The Standard’s researchers only minutes to discover the extent of Lange and Arnot’s past, and just one visit to the south coast to lock it down.”’
Ava’s heart froze. They had gone to her home.
Brant paused, and skipped over a paragraph or two before resuming. ‘“While Arnot’s past smacks of unconfirmable child abuse, Lange’s was comparatively idyllic. Yet more than one Flynn’s Beach local raised a question mark over the appropriateness of a teenaged Lange spending all her time with a much older Arnot. Whatever their relationship in the past, it’s definitely not history…”’ Brant’s voice cracked as he read ‘“…with confirmati
on this week that Lange and Arnot are considerably more than friends.”’
Ava closed her eyes, frozen in her spot. She could only imagine what that confirmation was.
Dan swore. Kurtz looked at him hard.
‘“Which must be a surprise to the romantically challenged Brant Maddox, who has been seen all over town with his buxom co-host…One wonders whether the gormless Maddox is aware he’s being used as a cover by his apple-pie co-host, to hide a more unwholesome relationship.”’
‘Enough,’ Dan rumbled in the confines of the limousine.
Not Cadence and Brant. She and Dan. That was what Leeds had been digging for with her questions about smokescreens and inappropriate relationships. Ava’s hands trembled under Carrie’s where she held them tightly. A thousand thoughts rolled through her mind, but only one was clear enough to be vocalised.
She begged Dan with her eyes. Why?
He swore. ‘You were an easy target, Ava. I should have known better. I should have thrown her off set the moment she arrived.’
Kurtz spoke. ‘That would have only stirred more suspicion and damaged AusOne’s relationship with the Standard.’
‘Screw AusOne’s relationship, Bill. What about the damage to Ava?’
‘That’s something you should have thought about before hiring your old childhood sweetheart and moving her in under your roof!’ Kurtz face glowed red with smugness. ‘This disaster is all on you, Arnot.’
Dan bit back, but Ava barely heard their argument. She thought about all the work she’d done over the past few years to establish herself as a leading name in her field, to carefully build a base of credibility and goodwill. It had all disintegrated into dust. Her body started to go numb from the inside out. It helped—marginally—to keep the tears at bay.
What helped more was that in less than ten minutes she’d be getting out of the limo in front of dozens of cameras and the who’s-who of the entertainment industry. The thought of doing that with a face full of shamed tears was…unthinkable.
‘Stop the car. We can’t go.’ Carrie was definite, her focus on Ava.
Kurtz pulled rank. ‘We’re going.’