“It’s definitely not out of the question for me. But there’s time, right? The clock isn’t ticking too hard?”
“What? Oh, no. It’s not like I want them tomorrow, or anything, I’m just airing thoughts I guess. Wondering where you stand. Am I scaring you off now?” I smiled meekly, feeling a little silly for even bringing it up. Bran was still at uni. As if he was thinking about kids. This conversation was way over the top—we hadn’t even fully defined our relationship yet. I was starting to regret my words. “Just forget I said anything,” I added, waving my hands in the air dismissively.
“I’m not going anywhere, Cora.” We stopped talking when someone walked past my open door. Once they were out of earshot, he took a breath and wrapped his knuckles on the table. “Will I see you tonight?”
I nodded. “I’m yours all long-weekend.”
His expression turned wicked. “Four days. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” I whispered, biting at my lip. He made a slight growling sound then tore himself away, exiting my office to attend to his work.
The moment he left, I sat back in my chair and blew out a loaded breath. There was a lot that Bran and I needed to sort through. It had been four months and we weren’t showing any signs of slowing down. If anything, we were growing closer, more serious. It was time for us to talk about what that meant for us as a couple. We couldn’t continue hiding, couldn’t keep avoiding important discussions by falling into bed together either. If he truly wasn’t going anywhere, then it was time to ask the hard questions and come clean about our hidden truths. We’d been avoiding it for far too long.
Making a mental list inside my head, I decided that calling my divorce attorney should be at the top. I’d put it off because I didn’t want to rock the boat until after I’d completed counselling with Jack, but now that was no longer happening, there was no point in wasting more time. I needed to quit hoping and start taking action to sort my life out on my own. Getting a divorce and ending any connection I had to Jack was my most pressing concern. I needed that part of my life over. And when I told Bran that I was married, I wanted to be able to show him the paperwork that proved it was over. I didn’t want him to have any doubt in his mind about how important he was to me.
After a bit of begging to her secretary, my attorney agreed to squeeze me in during my lunch break. I was sitting eagerly across from her within a few hours, feeling as though I was finally, finally, starting to take back control.
“It’s good that you’ve been to counselling,” she told me. Her name was Katrina Mahoney. She was tall and thin with honey-blonde hair and an angular, but very pretty face. She looked to be late twenties, which meant she’d only been practicing unrestricted for a few years. But Olivia had assured me she had a stellar reputation, so that was enough for me. “It’s actually a requirement for the disillusion of a marriage less than two years old. However, you need to prove that you’ve been separated for at least twelve months and one day. From my understanding, you’ve been apart almost seven months?”
“That’s right. And there’s no way to speed up that process?”
With a smile, she shook her head. “There isn’t, I’m afraid. But, it gives us time to get your affairs in order and open a dialogue with his attorney so that the eventual divorce proceedings go smoothly without either of you having to go to court. The fact you have no children will make things run even smoother. Is there anything else I should know?”
“He’s, um…trying to blackmail me into giving him another chance. First he was using the intervention order to get me to go to counselling and now he’s using surveillance photos of me and my…” I struggled to come up with a word to explain who Bran was to me. Explaining it in this situation made it feel so sordid when it wasn’t.
“You’re in a new relationship?” she asked, to which I nodded, relieved that she filled in the blank for me. “What exactly is your husband threatening you with?”
“See, that’s the problem. He hasn’t overtly threatened me. He’s too smart for that. He’s simply suggesting that if those pictures got into the wrong hands my job could be at stake.”
“This new relationship is within your workplace?”
“Yes. He’s my boss’s son,” I squeaked out, feeling my face go red from voicing it. “And my, um…intern.” What must she think of me? As strongly as I felt towards Bran, I was under no illusion that others would understand the circumstances.
Although, her face showed no reaction. “I see. Well, I can’t say I’m a stranger to complicated work relationships. I risked my job for a man once too.”
Her candidness surprised me. “Was it worth it?”
Thinking for a moment, she smiled to herself. “Yes. Everything worked out exactly how it was supposed to.”
“So you’re still with the guy?”
She shook her head. “No. But it led me to my husband. I’m thankful for that.”
“And did you lose your job?”
“Almost.”
“So, what can I do in this situation?”
“You could look into charging him with attempted blackmail.You work in the right place to make that happen.”
I shook my head. “The onus of proof is on me. There’s no way a charge would stand because he could claim that it was just a miscommunication. Blackmail is really hard to try without hard evidence.”
“I see. And if this gets out, is there a policy against dating within the workplace?”
“No. But there are the usual issues with me being in the position of power.”
“Then, technically, if both parties are consenting adults, and you can prove that, it doesn’t really have anything to do with your office.”
“Normally, no. But, I believe I’m already in poor standing with the director because of the intervention order. He could cancel my contract for inappropriate conduct. Being the OPP there are morality clauses… I need to know if there’s a way you can put an injunction on Jack to keep him from using the pictures. Something like that. Perhaps talk to his attorney and see if you can get him to back off?”
She nodded and made some notes on the file in front of her. “I can’t promise much because of the vagaries of the situation, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” I released a hopeful breath, noticing the light bounce off the diamonds on her wedding finger. “How do you do this?” I asked, indicating her ring.
“Stay married or help others end theirs?”
“Both, I guess.”
Folding her arms across her waist, she leaned forward slightly. “It works for us because we want it to—both of us, not just one. No relationship works without the other taking part. And I do this job because I’ve been in bad relationships before.” Turning her head, she shifted her hair back, revealing a series of fine scars smattered all over her left side. “I hate the thought of a woman being trapped in a relationship she couldn’t get out of, regardless of the reasons—violence, lovelessness, or in your situation, serial adultery and general nastiness. Everyone deserves to be happy in his or her life, and every person deserves his or her fair share of the life that relationship built. So I do what I can to make things as easy and as fair as possible.”
“I just want that part of my life over,” I said, feeling emotion push at the backs of my eyes. “I want him to leave me alone so I can move forward.”
“I understand that. And I promise to call his attorney immediately to try and find a way to keep Jack from using that surveillance information.”
“I really appreciate that. Thank you.”
“Of course. I know this process can feel a lot like limbo at times. But there’s only five months to go before we can file. The waiting will give you plenty time of time to think and reflect on all the things that went wrong so your new relationship will be healthier because of it.”
“I already know exactly where I went wrong: I put all my hopes in the wrong man.”
“Give me some good news,” I said when I
returned to the office and found Olivia standing outside her office with a group of women looking at her ultrasound pictures.
She grinned and showed me the printed image. “It’s a very healthy baby girl.”
“That’s so wonderful,” I said, throwing my arms around her neck. “How are you feeling?”
Touching her tiny bump of a stomach, she gestured for me to follow her into her office. “I’m feeling a lot better today,” she said once we were alone. “It was amazing watching this living thing moving around inside me. She looks like a perfect little human already. I can barely feel her moving, but she moves all the time. You should have seen it.” She looked genuinely happy as she gazed at the black and white pictures then pointed all the features out to me. “Paul cried when he saw her.”
“Happy tears?” I struggled to make much sense of the image, but smiled along, feeling glad for her. “She’s beautiful, Liv,” I said, feeling slightly jealous of her happiness. Her life hadn’t really been any less complicated than mine, but she’d managed to take everything in her stride. There wasn’t much that could keep Olivia down.
“Where were you when I got in?” she asked, sticking one of the photos to the side of her computer screen with tape. “I wanted you to be the first to see everything but you were late back from lunch.”
“Oh, I went to see that divorce lawyer.”
Her eyes lit up. “Wonderful. So everything went fine?”
I didn’t have the heart to ruin her buzz with the news of Jack’s latest dickhead move, so I smiled and nodded. “Everything went perfect. It’s open and shut.”
“I’m so happy to hear that. Let me take you for a drink after work to celebrate.”
“How about I take you out to look at pink baby clothes?” I suggested instead.
She grinned, looking much younger in her excitement. “Is it weird that I would really love that?”
I shook my head. “Not at all.” Things were changing. A year ago, I’d never have dreamed I’d be talking to Olivia about her impending motherhood, while I headed for divorce court and struggled to come to terms with my feelings toward a younger man. It felt like the world was upside down.
When I walked up to the front of my building, Bran was already waiting, leaning against the wall, and looking like sin on two legs.
“I thought you were never going to get here,” he commented with a grin, taking me in his arms and kissing me until my toes curled. “Mmm. But that was worth waiting for.”
“I stopped in at Olivia’s to say hi to Paul and show him the outfits we bought for the baby.”
“Did they find out the sex?”
“They did. It’s a girl.”
“Congratulations to them.”
I pulled out my keys and opened the security door. “You could tell her that yourself, you know. It wouldn’t be unusual since you work in the same office, but even without that, she sort of knows about us…” I dropped that tiny bomb, testing the waters before I felt comfortable telling him how big the leak of knowledge about our relationship had become.
“I’d find it odd if she didn’t know. You are best friends, after all.”
“She won’t say anything to anyone.”
He hit the button to call the lift. “I don’t care who she tells.”
“Maybe you should. It could change everything. Do you understand how serious the implications are for me?” Even with possible attorney intervention, there was no telling what Jack would do with that file. I half expected to go back to work next week to a cardboard box sitting on my desk and a notice of termination stuck to my computer screen. I knew I did the right thing telling him to shove his ‘deal’ up his arse, but I was still worried about the repercussions.
Bran’s brow furrowed. “Who else knows about us?”
My husband. Opening my mouth to come clean, I pressed it closed again and shook my head. Now wasn’t the right time to get into it. It was a massive discussion that had the ability to ruin our entire weekend together. Right now, I just wanted to fall into his arms and enjoy the simplicity of what we had for a little while longer. “No one. I’m being paranoid.”
Grinning down at me, he hooked his index finger into the top of my skirt and pulled so I collided against his chest. I immediately relaxed. Something about the contact made everything better. Bran made everything better. “Then relax. We have a four-day weekend ahead of us and I plan to spend every moment of that feasting on your flesh.” He lowered his head into my neck.
“Never have I been happier for a horse race,” I sighed as his tongue and teeth played against my tender skin. The Melbourne Cup long weekend would be a perfect break from prying eyes and routine stresses. It would give us uninterrupted time together, the opportunity to talk all this shit through and work out exactly what this was.
“I could fuck you right where you stand.” A low growl rumbled in his throat, and he kissed me until the lift hit my floor. I was practically liquid by the time he came up for air.
“I don’t want to say no, but the building body corporate might not appreciate the show.” I pointed to the camera in the corner.
“They’d love the show.” He chuckled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me off the lift.
Walking hand in hand to my apartment, I couldn’t stop the thoughts of those prying eyes watching us. Some of the pictures Jack had shown me were taken through my windows. I hated that, hated that Jack’s slimy reach had found its way into my own private space. I paused at the door and turned to face Bran.
“How about we get out of here for a few days?” The idea of leaving Melbourne for a period made my anxiety levels less uneven.
“And go where?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere warm and sunny. We can lie on the beach and have sex in the pool. Get drunk at a bar. Dance like no one’s watching.”
He quirked a magnificent eyebrow. “I could be persuaded.”
“How about I make us some dinner and we can search for the perfect spot while we eat?”
He took the keys out of my hand and opened the door. “How about I fuck you first. Then cook while you relax in a bath, and then we can find somewhere last minute to go. I have it on good authority that the Gold Coast is a pretty nice place.”
Asking him if he was planning on looking up his old flame while we were there was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit the comment back. He wasn’t Jack and he hadn’t given me any reason not to trust him. I wanted him to tell me about his past in his own time because it wasn’t like I’d been forthcoming about mine. Besides, Brisbane and the Gold Coast weren’t exactly neighbouring cities. I had nothing to worry about.
“You’re too good to me,” I said instead.
He kissed me on the nose. “What can I say? I like taking care of my woman.”
26
“Can I bury you?” I asked Bran, squinting over to where he was lying back on his beach towel. He seemed so relaxed, digging his toes in the sand and soaking up the sun’s rays on the sandy beach across the road from our hotel at Broadbeach. We’d flown to the Gold Coast early Saturday morning, and after barely emerging from our room for the next twenty-four hours, we decided to take advantage of the sun and surf.
Turning his head, Bran lifted his sunglasses just enough that I could see one of his eyes. “Bury me?”
I got on my knees and crawled a little closer to him. His eyes lowered to my chest. I was wearing the busty woman’s version of a black string bikini. It had the same principles, but there was added support in the form of a double strap and tailored cup. The girls weren’t going anywhere. “I want to hide you under the sand so those schoolgirls over there stop perving on your delectably perfect abs.” I did a little side-eye move in their direction. They’d been parading up and down the beach, flicking their blonde hair and shaking their young, golden-skinned, tiny arses, all in an attempt to get his attention.
His mouth kicked up on one side, but he didn’t turn away from me. It made me realise something else I’d been missing for yea
rs. Bran was completely ignoring them. He only had eyes for me. Those girls were probably wondering what the hell a guy like Bran was doing with a woman like me. Or worse, they were speculating on whether I was his mother. I hoped to God I didn’t look that ancient next to him. But, the fact he didn’t look their way made me one very happy woman—especially after the bruising my ego had taken over the last few months from the knowledge of Jack’s nine extra-curricular ‘activities’.
“My abs are delectably perfect?” He chuckled, placing one hand against my thigh.
“Are you going to keep parroting what I say or let me bury you?”
Leaning back, he laced his fingers behind his head. “Knock yourself out.”
As I pushed the sand against him, I could see him watching me with amusement. “You know, I should probably be the one hiding your body under the sand. With that arse of yours in the air like that and your tits barely staying hidden behind that scrap you call a bikini, I’m sure I’m not the only man looking.”
I shrugged. “You’re the only man who gets to touch,” I said, dumping a pile of sand in the centre of his chest.
“No other woman gets to touch my delectable abs either,” he teased.
“Better not,” I replied, as I finished covering his legs and stomach. He wriggled his toes and broke free, so I shot him a playful scowl then piled on more sand.
“You’re as bad as my brother at this.”
“You have a brother?” he asked, sounding surprised at the information. There was so much we still didn’t know about each other.
“Uh-huh.”
“Younger or older.”
“Older.”
“You close?”
I scrunched up my nose a little. “Not really. He lives in New Zealand with his wife and three kids. I see them every second Christmas.”
“And you don’t talk to him between then?”
“Sure, I do—sort of. I call him on his birthday and message him occasionally. But it’s mostly Facebook stuff. He’s a big online sharer; lots of bragging about my nieces and nephew. They’re pretty adorable.”
Never Again Page 18