As if he’d known she’d been talking about him, it was Max. She considered ignoring him, but he’d only keep calling until she answered. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I’d better get this.’
‘Go ahead.’ Patrick smiled at her in his easy way and took out his own phone.
‘Hello, Emma speaking,’ she said, pretending to have no idea who’d called her.
‘Em, it’s Max.’ He sounded perplexed and she considered asking, ‘Max, who?’ but why prolong the agony?
‘Yes?’ she said instead.
‘I’m glad you mentioned the girls’ birthday, because Chanel and I’ve been thinking about it and I wanted to tell you our plans.’
Here we go. At least they weren’t old enough to get their licences because no doubt then he’d buy them a car—each, and not second-hand ones either. At least they were past the stage of wanting ponies. Thank God.
‘And?’ she prompted.
‘You can talk now?’
She glanced over at Patrick, who was pretending to be engaged with his phone. ‘Briefly.’
‘The girls want us to throw a big party at our place, but to be honest, Chanel is not all that keen.’
‘Really, why not?’ Although Emma wasn’t keen on the idea either—she didn’t trust Max and Chanel not to try and win the popularity contest by providing alcohol—she wanted to make Max say it; that Chanel had been happy to entertain Will’s friends because that involved showing off to their well-to-do parents, but two dozen fifteen-year-olds without parental supervision would probably have her coming out in hives.
At that moment, the waiter arrived with their food and she flashed a grateful smile.
‘We think parties are overrated,’ Max said, ‘so Chanel and I have decided to take the twins and Caleb to Hawaii for a couple of weeks.’
Emma’s eyebrows shot up so fast they even surprised her.
‘What?’ She only just managed to stop herself from adding the fuck, because of Patrick and where they were. A party would have been bad enough, but Hawaii? How the hell would she ever top that? Only this morning she’d put another instalment down on a pair of Peter Alexander quilt cover sets she had on layby. Laura and Louise had been lusting after these for ages, but new bedding would pale in comparison to an overseas holiday.
She tried to keep her voice calm when inside she felt anything but. ‘When exactly are you planning this trip?’
‘That’s just the thing, I know you’d like to be with the girls on their actual birthday, but you always have them, so—’
She interrupted. ‘Their birthday is in two weeks’ time. And not during school holidays.’
‘Our kids are bright enough. It won’t hurt them to miss a few days.’ Emma could almost hear him shrug.
Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘I thought you said a couple of weeks.’
‘It wouldn’t be worth taking them for anything less than a week.’
‘No, Max. Absolutely not. You are not taking our teenagers to Hawaii. Throw the party instead. I’m sure Chanel can handle one night of children taking over her house.’
‘Our house,’ Max said, and she heard the irritation in his tone. He’d started all friendly, as if they were still bosom buddies, but that act was over. They were back to barely being civil.
‘Whatever you like to believe,’ she snapped, no longer able to control her anger either. Max might make a good living, but if it wasn’t for Chanel’s rich parents, they’d never be able to afford a place like theirs.
‘Anyway, the tickets are already booked. I messaged the kids before I called you. They’re stoked.’
‘Already booked?’ Her blood boiling, she struggled to keep her voice down. Max was lucky he wasn’t here because she would have no qualms about punching him in the face. ‘Five seconds ago you sounded like you didn’t know exactly how long you were taking them.’
‘Tickets can be changed. We’ve booked two weeks,’ Max admitted, ‘but …’
She didn’t hear the rest of his sentence as she pulled the phone away from her ear and considered throwing it across the room. Whatever he said, he wouldn’t commit to an exact time frame in case he and Chanel found paradise wasn’t so blissful with three teenage children in tow. Max always left his options open. After a deep breath, she returned the phone to her ear—he was still rambling.
‘Look we’ll talk exact arrangements later, but please, Em, think of your children here. You don’t want to begrudge them the holiday of a lifetime, do you?’
‘Think of our children?’ She was thinking of their children. About how detrimental it could be to Caleb’s final exams if he missed two weeks of school. And Laura’s work was already suffering—Max would have known if he’d bothered to attend any of the parent-teacher interviews.
But he disconnected before she could reply and that only made her more furious. She’d wanted the satisfaction of hanging up on him.
She looked to Patrick apologetically and wished to God he hadn’t witnessed that ugly conversation. Her ex-wife persona wasn’t her best.
He smiled back and gestured to the food. ‘Dig in.’
‘You didn’t have to wait for me. And I’m sorry about that.’
He shrugged one shoulder. ‘I promise I tried not to eavesdrop, but your side of the conversation has only confirmed my suspicions that your ex-husband is a jerk.’
She puffed out a breath. ‘I think jerk is too polite a term.’ Then, although she’d only planned on unloading to him about Neve, she couldn’t help herself. ‘He wants to take my kids on holidays for the girls’ fifteenth birthday celebrations. To Hawaii, no less. During school time.’
Simply saying these words had her temperature rising again.
‘Wow,’ Patrick breathed. ‘Hard to beat that.’ He began to spoon rice and curry onto his plate.
‘Exactly.’ Emma sniffed, then swallowed. ‘I know it sounds stupid but he makes it a competition of materialism and on my income I can’t keep up. Not that my income’s bad,’ she rushed, not wanting to offend her boss. ‘It’s fabulous and the fact you let me have school hours is awesome, but Max makes four times what I do and he has Chanel’s family wealth on top of that. And he did some kind of swifty and convinced the courts he can’t afford to pay as much as he should.’
‘You don’t have to explain anything to me. I know how hard you work.’ He ate a spoonful of his curry. ‘This is good.’
She glanced down at her plate and realised he’d served her as well. He was such a lovely, lovely man and not wanting to offend him, she forced herself to eat a little.
‘You’re right,’ she said, after the first mouthful. ‘Never tastes the same when you make it at home, hey?’
‘I don’t know.’ Patrick’s eyes sparkled. ‘I reckon my curry’s not bad.’
‘You cook?’ She’d always imagined him the type to grab gourmet takeaway on his way home from work or the gym. Then again, she’d once imagined Max the trustworthy type. What did she know?
He chuckled. ‘I don’t live on beans on toast if that’s what you’re wondering.’
Before she could think twice, she said, ‘I’ll have to test this curry of yours one day.’
He took a moment to reply and she wondered if she’d overstepped the mark, being so casual with her employer. ‘I’d like that.’
She shoved another spoonful of curry in her mouth simply for something to do, because at the thought of another meal alone with Patrick every organ in her body twisted inside out.
‘Hang on.’ Concern furrowed Patrick’s brow. ‘Can he do that?’
For a second she had no idea what he was talking about.
‘Just take them out of the country without your permission?’ he clarified.
‘Oh, right.’ She shook her head. ‘Probably not; although he is a lawyer, so he’ll find some loophole I suppose. He seems to with everything else.’ She’d totally lost her appetite. ‘And besides, if I say they can’t go, then I’m going to look like the bad guy. Laura and Louise will never forg
ive me.’
She took a sip of wine and then pursed her lips together because—dammit—those tears were threatening again. It was easy to be angry while on the phone to Max, but now she knew she’d lost the battle, all she could think about was not being with her girls on their birthday.
‘Look,’ Patrick began, ‘maybe you should take a few days off. You’ve obviously got a lot going on at the moment. Between Neve, your husband—’
‘No,’ Emma shrieked, then covered her mouth when she realised heads in the restaurant had turned her way. She lowered her voice. ‘Please, Patrick, work is the only thing keeping me sane right now. I need it. And Max is my ex-husband.’
‘Okay,’ Patrick said, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘It was just a suggestion.’
‘I know. And thank you, I appreciate the thought.’ She racked her brain for something to talk about other than Neve or Max, but came up blank, so tried to eat some more.
Once again Patrick proved to be far more intuitive than the majority of his gender. He nodded towards her barely touched plate. ‘We could ask them to box it up so you could eat the rest later. It’s probably time to head back anyway.’
‘Thank you so much for lunch and I’m sorry I was such a downer,’ Emma said as they strolled down the pavement back towards the agency.
He shook his head. ‘You weren’t. I dragged you out of the office because you looked like you needed a friendly ear, but I’m not sure I’ve helped much.’
‘It’s not your fault my life is—’ She broke off as she lost her balance and almost stumbled to the ground.
Patrick’s hand shot out to save her fall. ‘Are you all right?’
She looked at him and blinked because he seemed kind of fuzzy. ‘Must have tripped on something.’ But when her eyesight cleared and she looked back, she couldn’t see what that could possibly have been.
‘Let’s not take any chances. I want to get my favourite employee back to the agency in one piece.’
With that he linked his arm through hers and kept it there all the way back to work.
Chapter Eleven
Genevieve
Novel tucked under her arm, Neve stepped inside the funky North Perth bar and glanced towards their favourite table to see if Flick or Emma had arrived yet. They hadn’t but their table was thankfully free, so she went over and slammed the book down to stake their claim.
The Classroom, with its quirky decor made to look like an actual school—encyclopedias, old-fashioned desks alongside primarycoloured stools, hopscotch on the floor—seemed a fitting place for their fortnightly book club/gab fest, especially since they’d likely never have met in the first place if it weren’t for their sons attending the same school. She pulled back a stool to sit, dumped her handbag by her feet and then glanced up at the cocktail specials on an actual classroom blackboard, while absentmindedly flicking the pages of the book, We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves.
A man stepped in front, blocking her from reading the chalk scrawl. He smiled and nodded towards the book.
‘Karen Joy Fowler. That’s a great book. You finished it yet?’
She shook her head. ‘Not quite.’
‘If you like it, I can recommend some others that might be up your alley?’
She smiled politely. ‘Thanks. But I’m part of a book club and don’t really get the chance to read much else.’ Truthfully, she’d barely even started reading this one, like most of the reads they had chosen for book club lately.
The man’s smile wilted a little but she saw him take a not so sneaky look at her naked ring finger. ‘Can I buy you a drink? Seems wrong to find a beautiful woman like you sitting all on her lonesome.’
Her cheeks flushed at his obvious come-on. He was a handsome chap. In addition to his height and pleasing attire, his salt-and-pepper hair gave him an air of sophistication. Just Neve’s type if she were interested in playing the dating game again. Which she was not. Still, it was nice to be asked.
She flashed him a polite but friendly smile. ‘Thanks, but I’m meeting a couple of friends. They should be here any moment.’
‘Can’t blame a man for trying.’ The gentleman grinned and bowed his head. ‘You have a good evening, won’t you?’
‘Thank you,’ she said and he turned towards the bar.
Flick appeared seconds later. ‘Who was that?’ she asked.
Neve shrugged one shoulder and grinned. ‘Just a handsome stranger who wanted to buy me a drink.’
‘Ooh, go girl.’ Flick punched her arm jokingly. ‘Did you give him your number?’
‘No!’
‘Why not? He’s good-looking,’ she said, turning her head towards the bar where he now stood. ‘Although he does look a little like a lawyer, and after Em’s experience, I think it best you stay clear of them.’
At the mention of Emma, Neve’s heart grew heavy. ‘Have you spoken to her this week?’
Flick shook her head. ‘I’ve been flat out with Zoe’s wedding preparations and work is crazy.’
‘How’s all that going?’ Talking about a happy occasion like a wedding appealed far more than thinking about her approaching trip or the chasm that had appeared between her and Emma.
Flick leaned forward and spoke with her hands. ‘I’m working on this gorgeous family of quokkas for an art exhibition on Rottnest Island in a couple of months. And I’ve put in a bid for a Tasmanian Devil from Adelaide Zoo that has been frozen for fifteen years. I have all sorts of ideas about what I’m going to do should I get lucky.’
Neve laughed. When they’d first met, she’d felt nauseous every time Flick spoke about taxidermy. To be honest, stuffed dead things gave her the creeps. Their glossy eyes were eerie and they always smelled musty. As a child, she’d hated going to museums for this one reason. But Flick’s work was more like art than specimen preservation, and she’d come to admire the beauty in taxidermy, to understand why so many wealthy people commissioned her to create pieces for their homes. ‘That sounds great, but I was actually asking about the wedding preparation.’
‘Oh.’ Flick’s smile dulled. ‘I’ve been doing my best to be enthusiastic and supportive—and I am happy for her. But I can’t help thinking back to our wedding—would you believe I wore Doc Martens?—and I just can’t get all that excited about fancy white dresses and flowers.’
‘You’re lucky you have a daughter to do all that girly stuff with,’ Neve chastised. She loved Will and wouldn’t swap him for anything, but she could admit to a stab of jealousy whenever Flick or Emma talked about going clothes shopping or out to the movies with their girls.
‘I know, it’s just—’
The simultaneous beeping of their phones interrupted Flick’s sentence. They dived for their handbags, guessing it would be Emma. They were right.
Really sorry but I’m going to have to bail. Been a full-on week and I think I need to make the most of Max having the kids to catch up on some house stuff and get some rest.
‘House stuff?’ Neve turned her nose up in distaste. ‘She’s ditching us for housework?’
‘Do you think something’s wrong with her?’ asked Flick.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, she’s always tired or has a headache lately. I can’t help wondering if she’s a bit depressed.’
Neve thought about it a moment. ‘I don’t know, but I think her absence tonight could have more to do with her feelings towards me.’
‘Why do you think that?’
Neve sighed. ‘Let me get us a couple of cocktails and I’ll fill you in.’
Nodding, Flick swivelled around to check out the cocktail board. ‘I’ll have a Flamin’ Galah,’ she said, choosing one of the specials.
Neve shuddered. She could never drink something that reminded her of Alf Stewart from Home & Away. ‘Okay. And I’ll get us something to eat too.’ Between doing make-up for a couple of shoots and trying to organise a rush on a new passport, she’d barely had time to eat anything all day.
‘I’ll
never say no to food. I’ll text Emma while you order.’
‘Thanks.’ As Flick began tapping on her phone, Neve crossed to the bar. The guy who’d tried to chat her up earlier was now sitting at a table with three women and looked to be smooth-talking all of them. So, maybe she wasn’t so special. Disheartened by this and also by Emma bailing on them, she tapped her nails against the counter as she waited for a bartender.
‘Hey there.’ A young red-headed bloke grinned at her from behind the bar. ‘What can I get for you this evening, madam?’
She placed her order, watched him create their cocktails and then carried the elaborate drinks back to the table.
‘Now,’ Flick said when she sat down again, ‘why do you think Emma isn’t coming because of you?’
Neve exhaled deeply and stared into her bright-green drink, wishing it held the answers to all of life’s problems. ‘You saw how she reacted the other night when I told you guys about James.’
Flick shook her head in dismissal. ‘She was shocked—we both were—but she’s not the type to hold a grudge. And if she was pissed off at you, then surely she’d only have messaged me.’
Neve raised her eyebrows, took a sip of her cocktail. ‘Maybe, but she barely even said hello to me when I went into the travel agent the other day. She’s always going on about being pushed for cash, so I thought she’d be happy to get my business.’
‘You went to book your trip to New York?’
Neve nodded. ‘But Emma refused to deal with me and I ended up being helped by the young girl, Mandy. Not that she wasn’t brilliant. In fact, she’s been really helpful, telling me how to get my passport renewed quickly and everything.’
‘Maybe she really was busy?’ Flick suggested—always the type to see the best in people.
‘Whatever.’ Neve tried to sound like Emma’s standoffishness didn’t hurt. ‘But if she’s angry at me, then so be it. I really don’t have time for high school theatrics right now. It wasn’t like I slept with her husband.’
Flick half-laughed, half-grimaced. ‘Who would want to?’ She took another sip of her drink as a waiter arrived with their Teachers’ Grazing Board, a share plate that changed daily but never failed to arouse their tastebuds. ‘Enjoy, ladies.’
The Art of Keeping Secrets Page 9