by Maggie Brown
“We’re not working in the morning,” said Abby in a firm voice. “We’re going shopping and I’d like to treat you to a haircut.”
Self-consciously, Fiona’s hand dug into her loosely wrapped bun. “A haircut? I know this is old-fashioned, but it serves me well…”
Abby quickly pulled Fiona into her arms in a quick embrace. “You’ve been so good to me, Fi. Let’s have a girls’ day out.”
“But Vic expects the reports to be done tomorrow.”
“Does she need them urgently?”
“Not for a few days.”
“Good. She promised me clothes and I’m going to get them. We’ll work extra hard in the afternoon to catch up.” She ignored the dubious look on the Scot’s face.
As the taxi sped into the city, they were silent. With Fiona in the front seat, Abby was content to sit quietly to take in the view. Victoria sat unsmiling, preoccupied. A calypso jangle filled the car. As Abby reached for the phone, she caught Victoria’s miffed but restrained disapproval. “Hello, chérie. Are you in Perth yet?”
Abby grinned as she recognised the low purring voice. “Hi there, Chan. We’re in the cab on our way into the city. I’ll give you a ring back in an hour.”
“I’ll be waiting. It’ll be good to have a chat again.”
“Je suis impatient d’y entre,” replied Abby. Switching to French ratcheted her self-esteem up quite a few notches. At least she was desirable to someone. And it didn’t hurt Ms I’m-so-fussy Myers to understand that too.
At an apartment block in the inner city, the cab pulled into the kerb and the driver popped the boot. Victoria didn’t say a word as two porters hastened out to take their luggage. The decor of the foyer of the apartment building was so lavish Abby gaped. So this is how the other half lives. The manager greeted them personally, fawning over Victoria. Abby rolled her eyes. So tedious to watch yet another man fall under Victoria’s spell. Abby had an urge to drop a suitcase on his foot, or at least to whisper nastily in his ear that he hadn’t a hope in Hades because he was a male, and an unattractive one at that.
The porter led them past the main elevators to one tucked around the corner. The inside had a delicate fragrance of lavender. The fragrance was nothing like the antiquated lift at her home apartment building, which usually smelt of stale food tinged with cheap aftershave. The lift slid all the way to the top and the door opened, not to a corridor, but to a small space with a single door.
“It’s the penthouse suite,” said Fiona. “The company owns the building and Vic designed the interior. They keep it for visiting dignitaries.”
The entrance hall led into the main lounge area. The room was spacious, with mahogany-panelled walls and a colour-toned mosaic floor. Paintings and objets d’arte filled the space, lit by hand-blown Italian glass fixtures. Chairs and two tables sprouted from the floor, and a deep chocolate leather lounge suite nestled in the other corner. Abby murmured her approval at the paintings on the wall. She was pleased to see some of the works were from Australian artists. Her delight was infectious as she bounced round with enthusiasm.
Victoria’s ill humour vanished as she watched with amusement. “Have a look at this,” she said with pride. She flicked a switch and a huge TV and sound system appeared from behind a panel.
“I love it. I love it. It’s fantastic. And look at the deck outside. Scarlett O’Hara would be at home here,” said Abby.
The bedroom also got her attention, with its plush carpet and brocaded bedspread. The en-suite was complete with a Jacuzzi, as well as a wall-mounted TV. Music played in the room at the press of a button. Abby smiled. She was going enjoy living the high life.
* * *
Victoria crossed her legs with a whisper of friction as she settled into the chair. “Did you make reservations for dinner, Fiona?”
“Aye, I booked a table at Opus for seven thirty. The others are meeting us there.”
“Good. That’ll give us time to unpack and get ready.”
“Where is the crew staying?” asked Abby.
“At a motel near the airport. They’re scheduled for flights all week in WA.”
As she watched the other two disappear into their rooms, Victoria sank into the lounge chair. Abby’s vivacity was contagious—she felt in a much better mood. It had been a long time since she’d been in the apartment. Designing it had been fun, but she hadn’t created anything as challenging since. Maybe after the trip she should rethink where her life was going. Abby was right to say Victoria was boring and predictable. She needed to get out of her comfort zone and spread her wings again. The ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts and a throaty drawl purred in her ear. “It’s Fran, Vic.”
Victoria gave a pleased whoop. God, she hadn’t seen Fran for such a long time. “I’m in Perth. I was going to ring you.”
“Malcolm rang to tell us you were coming in today. He told me you needed to get out and have a good time. We’re dying to see you. What about joining us tonight? We’re off to our old haunt, the Shady Glen, for a birthday party.”
“You bet. I’m dining with the staff so I’ll be there about nine thirty. I can’t wait. How’s Wilma?”
“She’s good, keeping me in line as always. She says to wear those sexy leather pants of yours—there’ll be plenty of ladies to meet. Did you pack ’em?”
Victoria laughed softly. “Actually I did. Hope springeth eternal.”
“Well, tonight’s the night, babe. No more of your usual picky attitude.”
“Yeah, who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky. See you there.”
As she rose to go to her room, the blanket of depression that had hovered over her these last months, settled again. She knew deep down what bugged her. The feeling was loneliness. She needed someone to share the next adventure with, someone who understood her. Time to start seriously looking for someone to share her life.
Victoria slid on the hugging leather pants then pulled on the long leather boots. She unbuttoned the form-fitting shirt to the cleavage of her breasts and looked in the mirror. The outfit should do nicely for the bar. She was ready for some action.
When she entered the room, Abby looked up and went pale.
“Ready to go?” Vic asked.
Fiona dispensed a long look before she remarked, “Ye don’t look like you’re dressed for a quiet night.”
“I’m going out with friends afterwards.”
Fiona nodded with approval. “That’s good. It’s time you went out and enjoyed yourself.”
In the taxi, Abby sat quietly in the corner. Victoria wondered if she was upset but dismissed the idea almost before it was fully formed. She probably was just tired from the trip. But Victoria missed the bubbly enthusiasm Abby had displayed in the suite. She hoped she’d perk up during dinner. The driver pulled up outside the restaurant where Bruce and Stephanie were waiting.
“Where’s Marv?” asked Fiona.
“He went out with friends tonight,” replied Victoria.
Abby turned with a hard stare. “Stephanie is dining with us?”
“Yes. Didn’t I tell you?”
Her eyes turned dark. “I’ll have my work cut out tonight with you looking like that. And for heaven’s sake, button up your shirt.”
Before Victoria could think of a suitable retort, the other two were out the door and the driver waiting to be paid. As they walked across the footpath, Abby took Victoria’s hand. Stephanie glanced at their clasped hands and strolled into the restaurant without a word.
Victoria found making conversation harder as time went on. Bruce never said much at the best of times, Fiona was only interested in the food and Abby was unusually sombre. Stephanie’s constant chatter seemed to be forced. As well, Abby began to stroke her arm with her fingertips, which made it increasingly difficult to concentrate. By the time the meal was finished, Bruce and Fiona were ready for bed, and Abby was massaging her arm.
“We’d better be off, Steph. We’ve got an early flight in the morning,” said Bruce.
/> As soon as they disappeared out the door, Abby straightened and dropped her arm. The warm glow in Victoria’s belly faded with the loss of the soft body. She cleared her throat, embarrassed by her yearning to reestablish the contact. “It’s time to go. I’ll call you ladies a cab.”
Abby got up and stretched. “You take the taxi, Fiona. It’s a lovely night so I think I’ll walk home. I adore cities at night.”
“Okay. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
Victoria hummed her disapproval. “You can’t walk around in the dark by yourself.”
“Nonsense, I’ll stick to the main streets. There’re plenty of people out at this time of night. It’s not late.”
“Take the damn cab.”
“No.”
“Well, do what you like. But don’t come whining to me if you get mugged.”
“Really, Ms Know-all, you can be so infuriating.”
After Abby walked off down the street, Victoria turned to Fiona with a shake of her head. “I was only trying to look after her.”
“You’ve got to try not to use standover tactics. Be a bit more diplomatic.”
“Why do you always take her side? Can’t you give me any credit?”
Fiona’s bottom lip jutted out. “That’s not fair. It’s not a question of favouring her over you. The lassie’s very sweet, so why shouldn’t I be friendly with her?”
Remorse swept through Victoria. She shouldn’t take her frustrations out on her assistant. Frustration—is that what the feeling is? I’ll have no qualms about getting someone tonight. That should fix things. She patted Fiona on the arm. “Sorry I’ve been so cranky lately. Now here’s your cab. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
Abby wandered through the streets and headed down to the Swan River walkway. It was a grand night for it, the reflection of the moon danced on the water like a mirror ball. A lover’s delight, her mother would say. A warm breeze blew, couples walked arm in arm and city lights shimmered like masses of golden stars. So why was she feeling so lonely? Maybe talking to Chantal would chase away the empty feeling. She took out her phone, but halfway through dialling she clicked it off. It was no use. The image of Victoria in her sexy leather gear was so deeply imprinted in her brain she couldn’t possibly talk to another woman. Logic and unbridled emotions duelled in her head. They caused an ache to throb behind her eyes. She wondered if Victoria exuded some high-powered magic pheromone which lingered after she was no longer there. Abby had never felt anything like it in her life, a yearning that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. A voice called out and dragged her back from her musings. “Are you all right?”
She opened her eyes to see a group of women looking at her with concern. She leapt up from the seat. “How embarrassing, I must have dozed off. Just as well you woke me.”
A tall woman, somewhere in her forties, walked forward, “Are you waiting for someone?”
“No. I’m on my way home from a dinner engagement and decided to walk instead of taking a cab. It’s such a glorious night.”
“You look like you need a bit of cheering up. We’re all nurses from the Royal and off to the pub for a drink. Do you want to join us?”
Because they were strangers, sensibility dictated she should go home but they looked like fun people. Exactly the company she needed. So she said, “I’d love to. I’m Abby.”
“And I’m Jessie.” After introducing her to the five other nurses, Jessie led the group down the street to a pleasant hotel. Inside brimmed with friendship. Despite the fact her nerves were still on edge, Abby enjoyed herself. The women were good company and had an easy companionship which came with working together in stressful situations. Although a lot of the hospital jargon went over her head, Abby still got most of their jokes. She sipped gingerly her rum and Coke as she studied them. They were all ages, the eldest in her fifties. It was nice to be in a group who were content in each other’s company and not there to pick someone up.
Only two didn’t have wedding rings. One looked fresh out of college. The other, Patsy, a stocky woman around Abby’s age, was entertaining with a great sense of humour. Gradually Abby began to relax, to lose herself into a completely new zone for a few precious hours. Time flew. It was only when they rose to leave, did she think to check her watch and saw that it was past midnight. Damn, she hadn’t let Fiona know she’d be late. She hoped the Scot had gone straight to bed and not waited up for her.
“Can I walk you home?” asked Patsy as they said their goodbyes on the footpath.
Abby glanced at her, surprised at the unexpected offer, but then twigged. The nurse had flirted with her half the night. She blushed as she remembered the knowing looks. “If it’s not out of your way, I’d love the company,” she replied with a smile. Her ego ramped up a few notches. Patsy was a charmer.
As they walked down the streets, they talked comfortably together and found they had a lot in common.
“Have you anyone waiting for you at home, Abby?”
Abby hesitated as the image of Victoria swirled into her mind. She forced it away and replied, “No. And you?”
“I’m still looking. I’ve dated a few girls, but there’s been no one special.”
Abby studied her. Her first impression when they had met was that she more handsome than pretty. Now Abby saw beyond that. Handsome, yes, but there was a softness, too, about her that was captivating. Her eyes were a warm brown, framed by the longest lashes. They were honest eyes. Her light brown hair, though cropped short above her ears, looked silky and shiny. She was solidly built without any sign of fat—wholesome was the analogy that came to Abby. Her personality was lively, with an attractive dry wit.
By the time they reached the apartment building, Abby felt a little dejected. Why couldn’t she have la grande passion for someone like Patsy? The nurse was an uncomplicated good woman who would make a wonderful partner. In all those years of loneliness, she could have met her then. They probably would have been very happy together. But now, that damn Victoria had wormed her way inside her affections and ruined any prospective relationship. Crap!
“Would like to go on a date?” asked Patsy at the door.
Abby shook her head. “I’m off overseas for months and then I go back to my life in Sydney. It wouldn’t work.”
“Where overseas? I’m going to Europe next year for a holiday. My family are shouting me the trip for my thirtieth birthday. My sister is going with me.”
“Southeast Asia then some sightseeing in Europe, I think.”
Patsy’s face lit up. “Wow. Maybe we’ll be in the same city at some stage.” She dived in her purse, scribbled on a piece of paper and passed it to Abby. “Here’s my email address. What’s yours?”
Abby rattled it off and kissed Patsy fleetingly on the lips. “I hope we can get together overseas. I really enjoyed your company and thanks for walking me home. That was sweet of you; I had a great time.” She gave one last peck on her cheek with a soft, “goodnight” before she stepped into the foyer.
Fiona was nowhere in sight when Abby walked into the suite. She crept over to her door, satisfied she heard snores inside. Finally alone in her room, Abby felt the tension roll out of her body. The night with the nurses had been a breath of fresh air, something she’d remember as one of the highlights of the trip. They were just decent ordinary women without any hidden agendas, willing to include her into their group because they sensed she needed cheering up. But Abby couldn’t ignore the nagging guilt that hovered in the back of her mind. What would salt-of-the-earth Patsy have said if she had known Abby had allowed herself to be bought by Victoria?
Chapter Fourteen
Victoria stepped into The Shady Glen and the blare of noise hit her with a blast. The club hadn’t changed much in ten years. The décor was the same, gaudy revolving disco lights still hung from the ceiling and it still looked warm and welcoming. Women of all ages were dancing energetically to a Beyoncé tune, while others chattered together at tables
and at the bar. A waving hand in the corner signalled where her friends sat. Fran jumped into her arms and they swung round with delight.
“You look wonderful,” said Fran.
Victoria couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “So do you. Ten years and you don’t look any older.”
“Don’t look too closely. There’re plenty of lines and sags in places they shouldn’t be.”
A petite body leapt up to clasp her in a hug. “Hi Vic. My, you’re getting more gorgeous as you get older.”
“Wilma, I’m so glad to see you. Come on, let’s have a drink and tell me all your news.”
As they talked, Victoria studied her friends fondly as she remembered back to the days when they had first met. Fran had been her best friend at university where they both studied geology. She was the charming, boisterous one, long and lanky like a frisky colt. After Fran met Wilma, a feisty little redheaded accountant who swept her off her feet, the two had fallen deeply in love, and their days of playing the field had come to an abrupt halt. Vic felt a pang of envy. They both still had that wide-eyed look as if they couldn’t believe their luck at finding each other. Two children later, domesticity had settled comfortably over them like a favourite well-worn blanket.
“We’ve got some exciting news. You better get your glad rags ready ’cause we’re getting married in New Zealand next year.”
“Good for you. Some country had sense to change the law. What date? I’ll be away six months.”
“It won’t be ’til October. I’d like you to be my best man, Vic. Damn. I don’t know whether to call you a best man or bridesmaid but you’ll be the one in the tux anyhow.”
A lump formed in Victoria’s throat. “I’d be honoured.”
Fran pulled Wilma to her feet. “Now that’s settled, I’m going to dance with my girl. You can take your pick ’cause the whole crowd is staring at you.”
Victoria bought another drink and snagged a stool at the bar. She scanned the room, searching for the player who won the ladies without trying. That arrogant one who always stood out. For a moment she hesitated at the blonde with the dimples. Did she have blue eyes that sparkled as she got angrier, could her kisses send her soul into orbit? Get a grip you fool. No one like Abby tonight.