by Iris Blobel
He winked and finally made it to the door and left.
Escort? No, it must have been with Escort in Sydney.
Good grief!
First a philandering lawyer, and now an escort.
****
Sophie finished reading Mia’s bedtime story and tucked her in then stepped into the lounge room to wind down in front of the television. She went over the events of the previous days and reminded herself that the move to Hobart was supposed to be a new beginning. It was supposed to be a fresh start and an opportunity to grow with what she’d been given. What she didn’t want was to have her heart broken in record time. Not once and certainly not twice.
As Sophie sat there, pondering about the two men in her life, the sound of the doorbell hauled her back into the present.
“This is why the door is unlocked,” she said to herself. “That doorbell has to go.”
With a bit of effort, she stood and headed to the front of the house to open the door.
Sophie was so surprised to see Mark standing on the front porch, she could only stare mutely.
His eyes narrowed. “Still got that headache?” he asked when she didn’t invite him in.
Heat crept into her cheeks, and she opened the door wide to let him in. Actually, she did have a headache from the bump on her head from earlier. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”
“Mia in bed?”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer and reached his hand out for her hair. Before Sophie could move away, he pulled back with a wisp of cottony cobwebs between his fingers.
“Cleaning dark corners of the house?”
Instinctively, she brushed through her hair with her fingers.
“Exploring the attic.”
His eyes grew openly amused. “Attic?”
She managed a fake smile. “Yes, the attic. Zach told me Ms. Bellinger wanted to clear out the attic for renovations and needed his help. She must have mentioned some valuable stuff up there, which was nobody’s business. So far we’ve only found some diaries, though.”
“Zach?”
She watched his facial expression change. “This wasn’t really the part of the story I wanted you to fixate on.”
He shrugged casually.
“We found diaries. Hopefully, I will find something in there that might help me figure out a connection between us.”
“Mr. Schuster is—”
“Apart from that,” she interrupted him with a sharp tone.
She walked over to the study room, retrieved one of the diaries from the box, and showed it to Mark. Very carefully, he took the book and flicked through it.
“How many are there?” he asked without looking up.
“About ten.”
After a long moment, he placed the book back into the box and quickly checked two or three of the others. “Sure they’re Ms. Bellinger’s?”
“Who else would they belong to?”
He shrugged and turned to face her. “So who’s Zach?”
“My neighbour from across the road. Apparently a dear friend of hers.”
Sophie grabbed the first diary again, confused and now worried as well about the fact that there was no clear indication that they were indeed Ms. Bellinger’s.
Disheartened, she fell back into her office chair and thumped her head on the desk.
His hand touched her shoulder. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
“You lawyers always have to make things complicated.”
When she looked up to meet his gaze, she saw his almost-apologetic smile and the two dimples as his mouth curved with tenderness.
“I need a cup of tea,” she said, as she stood and rushed to the kitchen. As if she were on auto, she turned on the kettle, took teabags out of the jar, and retrieved two cups.
“Sophie?”
“Yes?”
“Sweetheart?”
She froze and turned to meet his gaze.
“I know this is important, and I’m trying to help. Honestly. Please promise me to not take things to heart so easily. You need to be patient.”
She nodded but remained silent. It was so easy for him to say those words and although she knew he meant well, she wished people would understand how hard it was to be part of a puzzle. An unfinished puzzle. And as much as everyone told or assured her that everything was in good order, it still didn’t sit right with her. She wanted the whole puzzle and not only the frame of it.
His touch brought her back, suddenly aware of his closeness. The fine lines around his eyes crinkled as he dipped his head. She’d kissed him before, and her body hadn’t forgotten. Heat pooled in her stomach and even lower as his soft breath warmed her skin. Her body betrayed her even more as soon as his hands moved up her arms, her shoulder, and cupped her face. At last, his lips gently brushed her mouth, causing her to melt into a puddle. He deepened the kiss, nudging her lips open.
This was not what she wanted, she tried to remind herself. She peeled her fingers off Mark’s shoulder and slowly pulled away. Her skin prickled, and her heartbeat throbbed in her hears.
Why did he keep coming back when he had somebody else? She needed him to leave. Yet, she also needed his help.
His icy-blue eyes fixed on her
Sophie opened her mouth to tell him that she had seen him with another woman the other day, when he leaned in again.
Shaking her head, she whispered, “This is not right. You have someone else, and I have enough to worry about without adding a broken heart to it as well.”
Despite the surprise in his eyes, his reply was calm. “How did you find out?”
How? Did he ask how? With the heat of the kiss forgotten, she stared at him. He didn’t deny it, and that only added to her misery.
With her heart broken even that tiny little bit more, she said, “I saw you a few days back.”
Breaking the eye contact, he turned his attention towards a photo of her and Mia, which had been framed and was ready to be hung.
“It’s over.”
With a deep sigh, he looked back at Sophie, but she didn’t want to go there. She didn’t want to discuss why or why not, or even if he still was or was not with someone else. All she wanted was a bit of happiness. She had the house. She had a reasonable job. Her studies were going well, but most of all, she had Mia. She was happy. It was her kind of happiness, and she had decided she needed no man at the moment.
“I think it’s better if you leave.”
“Sophie, please listen.”
She shook her head and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper. Mark hooked his fingers into her pants and gently pulled her closer. “You need to listen, Sophie.” Lifting her chin with his finger, he tried to meet her gaze. “Please look at me.”
With closed eyes, she turned to face Mark.
“Sophie. When did you see us?”
“Saturday,” she replied barely audible.
“Look at me, sweetheart. Please.”
But she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear knowing he was watching her every move. When she saw his eyes, she wasn’t able to focus or concentrate and she needed all her strength to get through this.
“Soph.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes and met his gaze, dead on, without flinching, and with all the strength she could gather. “I’ve met someone else,” she said quietly, barely moving her lips.
“Liar,” he murmured in a harsh tone.
Tears shot to her eyes as she stepped away from him. “Good night, Mark.” Yet, he didn’t move, just stood there, leaning against the kitchen bench staring at her.
Sophie ran her hand through her hair, as she tried to keep a lid on her emotions. With one last look at him, she turned and walked out and down the hall into her room. Already in the bathroom, she finally heard the front door. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub for what seemed like an eternity. Never had she felt so awful about something she’d said as she did tonight and wished she cou
ld turn back time. She missed him already, as she recalled the warmth, rushing through her body when being held against his strong chest. There was no denying that within an incredibly short time, he had become her safety net. There was nothing more she wanted than for him to tell her it was a mistake.
But he hadn’t. And that was all she’d wanted to hear. Stealing a kiss or two had been on her mind. With his arms around her, tasting him, and his lips on hers. Yet, instead of listening to him, she blurted out some damn nonsense of the highest degree.
What had she done?
Tears ran down her cheeks. Cold tears that made her shiver. The weight of her stupid words almost brought her to her knees. Had she stepped ahead nervously? No. She’d been sensible. Because his collected reaction had been different from what she’d expected. Then again, what had she expected?
He’d been honest. He’d always been honest with her.
Bottom line might have been that she’d been stupid and not sensible. After all, did she give him a chance to explain?
The unbearable thought that she’d thrown away a chance of something beautiful ate at her.
With a shake of her head to get rid of the overload of thoughts, she stood and quickly brushed her teeth before hopping into bed — hoping for sleep to come fast.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day, Sophie stood in front of Zach’s car, eyeing him intently.
“Honestly, I reckon sunglasses during weather like today’s are a bit exaggerated. Don’t you think?”
She watched his face as his mouth twitched into a little chuckle. “Cupcake, sunnies are a must-wear item on any good old day.”
Shaking her head, she opened the door of the infamous red sports car and sat down in the passenger’s seat. No gentleman’s help. No, she opened the door herself. She wouldn’t dare complain, because after all, he was about to drive her to the shopping centre so she could do a decent stock-up on groceries, without having to use the buses or pay for a taxi.
Zach turned his head towards her and moved his sunglasses up to his forehead. “I like to look at women without them knowing they’re being watched.”
Her mouth curved into an unconscious smile.
“Tell me about your job,” she urged suddenly.
He choked back a laugh and broke into a leisurely smile. “Why?”
“Do you actually… you know… as in—” she stuttered, as an unwelcomed blush crept into her cheeks.
“For Pete’s sake, Soph. I’m an escort, not a prostitute.”
She closed her eyes, feeling utterly embarrassed. “Sorry. It’s just… it’s… I’ve never—”
Zach laughed. “I’m like a date for women who don’t like to dine on their own or need accompaniment to an important occasion. I do it over in Sydney, so I can live a reasonably anonymous life down here.” His voice dropped in volume. “Imagine my surprise when Clara Bellinger moved in one day.”
Surprised by his chuckle she turned. “She was one of your—”
“Ladies in need,” he finished her sentence. He moved his head a little. “Yep.”
“But you became friends, didn’t you?”
He lifted his sunnies and rubbed his eyes. “Yes, we did. Nobody here knows about how I’m earning my money. And she understood. She had just left her husband. We used to enjoy a nice red in front of the fire and watch a silly old chick flick once in a while.”
Sophie giggled as she imagined them both watching girlie movies.
“Why did she divorce her husband?”
He let out a long, audible breath. “A bit of a joke, this guy. Fooled around a lot, and at some stage the bucket was full. She left.”
Sophie pondered a bit on this. No wonder Clara had left Mr. Schuster. She remembered her mum actually never liked him. But then again, she’d been young. She would have probably never listened either to those kinds of stories. In fact, she couldn’t even remember her mother talking about anything in the last few months of her life. She’d never talked about Mia’s father, but Sophie knew he had never helped their family in any way.
Sophie almost choked as she remembered that day when she had found her mother in the bathtub with the hairdryer in her hands. The pale face. Her mother’s face had always been rosy and full of life, even during the darker days. And then there’d been this lifeless body in front of her.
Lifeless.
One small word with such a significance.
Where had her mother’s “life” gone? She tried to believe in Father Mahoney’s words, but it was hard. And nothing could have prepared her for the nightmares that followed. Nothing could have prepared her for her life that followed. Sometimes, she thought it had been a cruel act of fate — her life had become just as lifeless.
The police had ruled it’d been suicide, but Sophie knew that even with all the problems they’d had, her mother would have never have left them like that. They were a family and loved each other. Through thick and thin was their motto.
Zach’s voice broke the stillness. “A penny for your thoughts.”
“How did Ms. Bellinger die?”
He stared. “That’s what you’ve been thinking about for the last five minutes?”
“Yes. Why?”
“She died of cancer,” he replied, as he concentrated on the traffic again.
There was an acute sense of loss Sophie wasn’t able to explain. She hadn’t known the woman, but she wished she’d had the chance to say thanks. She would ask Father Mahoney to include her in his prayers.
When they finally made it to the shopping centre only a little while later, Sophie found out what an enormous help Zach was with the shopping. Within a remarkably short time, Sophie had a trolley full of groceries and specials. And to top it off, he treated her for lunch before they headed back to Chestnut Avenue.
“How are the studies going?”
“I’ve neglected them a bit, but more or less I’m doing well. I had no idea it included so much legal stuff, though.”
“How about I check the attic again while you check the books?”
“That’d be nice.” She paused for a moment before adding, “She must’ve been a wonderful person.”
He gave a slow nod, but didn’t reply.
****
It was a different atmosphere in the house, having Zach around. A different aura. He was confident and impulsive. Living life. Outgoing. Though, as she thought about it, so was Mark.
But Mark was calm and able to spread his calmness to other people. He took life seriously. Was that a lawyer’s trademark?
A smile tugged at her lips recalling the discussion she’d had only had a few minutes earlier with Zach regarding who would be doing what — ending with Zach crawling into the attic and Sophie going back to her studies. She didn’t like it, but there was no use talking to him. He was one stubborn escort. She had figured that characteristic out. She snorted at the noises from above, but tried hard to keep her focus on her assessment. She needed to finish it, and it needed to be perfect.
Zach had told her he was going to Sydney for the next few days and wanted to have another close look up there before he left. As well as a little tidy up, so her head would be safe when she played Indiana Jones again. She had poked her tongue out at him for that, but appreciated his help.
Two hours later, he stepped into the study. “All clear. At least as clear as humanly possible. I found another box for you to go through.”
“Great. Thank you.” She rose from her chair and stepped towards him. “No idea how I can ever repay you for all your help.”
He touched her nose with his finger. “No need. I promised Clara I would look after you.”
Choking back a snort, she replied, “Why would she think we needed help?”
Shrugging his shoulders, he moved closer. His voice lowered, became very soft. “Don’t know,” he replied.
It sent shivers down her spine as her gaze went from his face down to his hand.
Then he touched her face lightly and lifted her chin with his finger. “I like where your thoughts went just then.”
“I’m not a lady in need, Zach,” she whispered, as she looked up into his beautiful green eyes.
He let out a low laugh as his mouth brushed her cheek and slid down her neck, placing kisses and playful nips. She arched her neck in response. It felt good and so right.
However, she slowly placed her hands on his chest, steadying her breathing. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “You’ll be having your arms around someone else in a few days.”
He said nothing.
“I can’t do this,” she sighed.
He remained silent, but she knew that he understood.
Her voice nearly broke. “It feels weird. I would… it’s not… I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He brushed a kiss over her lips, nodded, and simply left.
****
Mark winced when the ball hit him, and he rubbed his chest. Jared’s backhand was vicious that afternoon, and that was the second time he’d stopped the ball with his own body. He was seriously considering giving up squash, or contemplating a new partner.
“Ya play like a girl tonight, OC.” Jared laughed.
Mark bent at the waist and leaned on his racket for support. New partner. Definitely.
“It’s been one of those weeks.”
Jared came over and padded him on the back. “C’mon up, ol’ man. Let’s finish up and then ya tell me ‘bout ya girl trouble.”
Mark straightened and glared at his friend. “You can be a real pain in the—”
But his buddy held up his hand in front of him. “Ah. Don’t say anything ya might regret.”
He walked over to the corner of the hall and grabbed his towel. “Talked to Linda, yet?”
“Rang her yesterday,” Mark murmured. “Had to listen to the whole we could make a relationship work stuff. I told her we’re done, but blah, blah, blah. She wouldn’t shut up, so I hung up.”