by Blake, Nina
“I thought you wanted to meet over lunch. I presume we’re here for a purpose.”
“Oh, we are.”
She looked him in the eye with an air of confidence to match his own. “Well there’s no need to let me in on the secret.”
The head waiter, a rotund Italian fellow, came over to their table.
“Jake, so nice to see you again,” he said loudly. “And who is the lovely signorina?”
Jake introduced her to Carlo.
“Bellissima.” Carlo was even louder than before.
“And was the last lady Jake brought here also bellissima?” Rachel asked.
“Certamente,” Carlo said. “Molto bellissima. But she wasn’t a signorina. It was his mother, Signora Austin.”
Not the answer she was expecting. So Jake was close to his mother.
He then ordered a glass of red wine for himself and sparkling mineral water for her.
Carlo continued. “The cook has done a wonderful job with the pasta arrabiata today but it will not be as ‘hot’ as your signorina.”
“Perfect,” Jake said. “We’ll have an antipasto platter to start and two pasta dishes for mains.”
Carlo left them.
“So you’ve decided what I’m having for lunch, have you?” Rachel asked.
“Actually I didn’t decide what we’re having. Carlo did. That’s the secret to ordering at this place. I have them bring me whatever is freshest and best on the day. That’s why I like it here. It doesn’t look like much from the outside but the food is excellent. Just simple good food.”
Rachel was still determined to have some fun with him. “Sounds to me like you’re avoiding taking responsibility.”
“On the contrary, I think you can take responsibility for the pasta.”
“How’s that?”
“Arrabiata means ‘angry’ in Italian and that’s the kind of pasta we’re having. Carlo seems to think it’ll suit you. That is, after your comment about the other signorinas.”
Rachel laughed. “Really? At least I know you aren’t trying to impress me. If you were, you’d probably take me one of those expensive fine dining establishments.”
He shrugged. “Maybe next time I will. But, tell me, which would you prefer, a flash restaurant or the place I take my mother?”
“What’s the saying? Mother knows best.”
“I’m very close to her,” Jake said. Rachel nodded for him to continue. “She raised my brother and me on her own and did a darn good job even though she was up against it. We were a bit of a handful.”
“Oh I’d believe that!”
“We needed a man in our lives and our father wasn’t there so we rebelled. Got into a bit of trouble. My mother is a strong woman. She had to be to raise us on her own. I’ve always admired strong women. Women who can make it on their own. My grandmother was the same, taking over the farm when Pop damaged his back. They were married for over 50 years. Now that was a marriage.”
“What about your father?”
“My parents divorced when we were young and he spent the rest of his time making his millions,” he said. “Apparently money was more important than spending time with his sons. Even after all these years I still don’t know him but I have this horrible feeling I might be a bit like him.”
Rachel thought about her own family and how close she and her sister were to their parents. Although they were never wealthy, her parents had a loving relationship, one on which she and her sister had modelled their own marriages. At least for her sister things had turned out.
Conversation flowed as their antipasto arrived and they nibbled on prosciutto, cheeses and stuffed olives. Rachel dipped a chunk of crusty Italian bread into a bowl of golden olive oil and bit into it.
“You were right,” she said between mouthfuls. “This is good.”
“Ah, a woman who enjoys wholesome food without worrying about the calorie count of each mouthful. Now that’s something you don’t see a lot nowadays.”
“I hope you’re not suggesting I need to watch my weight.”
He wasn’t trying to impress her by taking her to one of Sydney’s famed fine dining restaurants. Mancini’s was an expression of one side of his personality and his enjoyment of honest, earthy things. The restaurant served simple Italian fare in unpretentious, down to earth surroundings.
Two bowls of steaming pasta arrived at their table, complete with slivers of fresh Parmesan cheese. She decided to take the opportunity to find out more about the elusive Jake Austin.
“So what do you do when you’re not working?” she asked.
“I used to do all kinds of things – skiing and surfing – but now I concentrate on doing things with Connor. He’s still young.”
Rachel was intrigued. “Skiing and surfing. Sounds like fun.”
“I used to go skiing every winter, either at Thredbo or Perisher in New South Wales. I went to Canada a few times too. I’m waiting until Connor’s a bit older until I take that up again. And I used to drive up and down the coast to get a bit of surf. A couple of trips to Hawaii. That sort of thing.”
No, Rachel didn’t know that sort of thing. This was well outside the bounds of her personal experience.
“Now I take Connor to my holiday house at Bateman’s Bay,” he said. “It’s only a few hours south of here. The house backs onto the rainforest and from the front door, it’s a short walk to the beach. Connor loves it down there. We go swimming and fishing.”
Rachel thought of her two young nieces and how she loved having them for the occasional sleep over and taking them for an early morning walk on Coogee Beach. She thought about Jake and how fondly he spoke about Connor. How obvious it was that his son was the most important thing in the world to him.
And she thought how different Jake’s life was from hers.
“So what do you do for your holidays?” he asked.
“Not much really,” she replied vaguely. She tilted her head and considered Jake carefully. Would the truth shock him?
“When Nick died he left me with a lot of debt. I had to sell our house. We hadn’t had it for long and it ended up costing me money. I’m only just getting back on my feet. Now I’m flush and I’ve got a little flat in Coogee but I couldn’t tell you the last time I went on a holiday.”
She’d said too much already. She couldn’t possibly tell Jake how a young man like her husband raked up large debts, all the time keeping it hidden from her. After he passed away, she found out he’d sold his share of the architecture business to his partner, as well as amassed remarkable credit card bills.
For a moment, she thought Jake appeared to be considering what she’d said and that he might ask her about her husband’s debts but instead he changed the subject.
“And what’s your dream holiday?” he asked.
“I don’t need to think about that one. Paris. It has to be Paris.”
Jake’s hand inched across the table.
“Paris,” he said.
He covered her hand with his. It sent a sensual ripple through her. His gaze dropped to their hands, then slowly along her breasts up to her eyes as if he were drinking her in.
She had to think straight. She was drawn to him. She couldn’t deny it. Yet their lives were so different.
Jake tilted his head and leaned across the table.
“I hope you aren’t thinking of kissing me?” she said, teasing him. “Such a shame you promised not to.”
“Are you sure that’s what I said?”
She glanced at her watch. “Actually, the real shame is the time.”
With an early afternoon appointment at work, Rachel had to race off so she made her apologies. She had to keep a level head around Jake and couldn’t afford to be late for her next meeting. As she rose to leave, he pulled some notes out of his wallet and left them on the table.
She knew he’d follow her.
* * *
Jake was behind her as she bounded out of the restaurant and up the stairs, the taut muscles of
her calves twitching above her strappy heeled sandals, her skirt swaying as it brushed against her legs.
He was quicker and stronger as he stretched one arm out to hold the door closed at the top of the stairs. He wanted to prolong their time together and steal whatever moments he could.
Rachel gazed up at him through lowered lids. “You’re not thinking of breaking your promise, are you?”
“Whatever gives you that idea?”
He could see she was enjoying this, revelling in the power he’d inadvertently given her with that promise.
He pulled his arm back from the door. He wouldn’t stop her from leaving, nor would he attempt to kiss her, no matter how much he wanted to.
At the top of the darkened stairs the air was cool but between them it was a humid haze, a barrier Jake dared not cross.
He took in the rich crimson of Rachel’s top, her neckline exposed so enticingly, the bare ivory skin pale and smooth. The top showed off her collarbones before the sweep down to the swell of her breasts. He wanted to reach out. He wanted her.
Jake took a step back and pulled the door open. If she stood before him any longer he’d no longer be a man who kept his word.
“I keep my promises,” he said.
Rachel stood her ground and looked him up and down.
She lifted one hand and brushed it gently against the small area of tanned skin at his neck where his shirt was slightly open. With a touch that was barely there, her fingertips moved upwards to cup his jaw in her hand. She arched her neck and pressed her lips against his.
“I didn’t make any promises,” she said, her mouth still close to his.
Then she left.
A bolt of excitement burned inside him. That woman knew exactly how to play with him. Tease him.
What was he doing? He hadn’t told her about his marriage yet he’d found the chance to tell her about his mother and grandmother.
Rachel certainly had a lot in common with the women in his family. She’d had more than her fair share of trials with the death of her husband and the debts he’d left her. There was more to that story than she was letting on. Yet she didn’t dwell on it morbidly or wallow in self-pity. Instead she was filled with a radiant vitality.
Jake shook his head. He’d wanted her to show some interest in his son. He’d mentioned Connor’s name several times, waiting for her to respond but she didn’t. Was it possible she wasn’t interested in children? Or in a man with a child?
He didn’t care. He seethed in a blaze of longing he’d never before experienced. He would have her.
And now, what could possibly stand in his way?
Chapter seven
Rachel had never known a man who made her feel the way Jake did.
A tingle shot up her spine as she remembered the way he’d kissed her in the boardroom, the way he’d pushed her to the edge.
It had been dangerous.
And she wanted to go there again.
It was only natural that kiss should come to mind since the agency offices were only a few floors above her. Rachel’s boss had asked her to hand deliver some important documents to their company lawyers who were in the same building as Agency 66.
The agency had revised one of their concepts for the campaign and it was waiting to be collected. She was already in the building. It made sense for her to collect it now.
She handed over the legal documents, closed the door behind her and ambled towards the landing with two banks of elevator doors on either side. Reaching for the lift button, her fingers trembled as they hovered over it.
It was as though the hand wasn’t hers. It belonged to someone else.
Up or down? Up to the agency? Or down to exit the building?
Jake had stopped by her office unannounced. He hadn’t cared if she were busy or unavailable. He hadn’t thought it brash or rude. And it wasn’t. They were colleagues. And now they were something more. Surely she could be equally assertive.
“Up or down?” she asked herself softly, surprised to hear the words come out loud.
“Down please.” A deep male voice came from behind her.
Rachel spun her head around to see a tall man in a business suit. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t even heard the shuffle of his footsteps on the marble floor.
“Certainly,” she said.
This time there was no hesitation, no tentativeness. She hit the button.
“I’m going up,” she added.
She arched her neck upwards and the recollection of the dizzying height to which Jake had taken her came flooding back to her again. She was going all the way to the top.
* * *
“Why did you come here today?” Jake asked, incensed that Bianca dared visit him at the agency over some petty matter.
She flung her pale hair behind her shoulders. She was the mother of his child. That was the only reason she was still part of his life.
“I had some time after I finished at the hairdresser,” she said.
When she and Jake first met, her hair had been light brown, streaked a gentle honey blonde by the sun. Now it was chemically bleached and straightened. Stripped of all colour, it hung brittle and lifeless down her back.
It struck Jake that their relationship was equally drained of its lustre. There wasn’t much left between them and the little which remained was increasingly hard work. And extremely fragile.
No wonder he’d never given her his grandmother’s engagement ring. Perhaps he’d known even then that things wouldn’t work out between them, though he hadn’t wanted to face it at the time.
Bianca leaned over his desk to admire a photo of Connor. Jake looked away. He didn’t need to see her breasts hanging out of a particularly revealing red top. Since a breast enhancement three years ago, she was continually putting her chest on display with skimpy clothing. Very little of her was natural any more.
She flitted quickly past the pin-up board covered with Connor’s drawings and stopped to pay homage to the spectacular views from Jake’s office. The hint of a contemptuous sneer on her face, she glanced around the rest of the room as though it was in need of severe maintenance.
Seeing Bianca standing in his office, it struck Jake that she simply didn’t fit into his world. Her main concerns seemed to be with appearances, shopping and lunch dates. She had no idea what it was like to work and run a business. What’s more, she was completely devoid of any sense that she might be out of place.
“I asked you why you came,” he said.
Her lips curled to a smug smile. “Because we’ve got some business to discuss.”
Both of them knew exactly why she’d come to Jake’s office. The same reason she phoned him at work. Because it riled him.
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s get on with it then.”
“It’s about that trip to Italy you suggested.”
He opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. “Go on.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea. A month away will do me good.”
Jake nodded, refusing to speak. He knew Bianca had something else to say and he wasn’t going to make it easy for her.
She sauntered over to his desk and ran her fingers along the edge of the mahogany. “I’ve booked already. I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. So I’ll be away over the school holidays. You’ll have to take of Connor.”
Always putting her needs and desires ahead of those of her child. This was typical of her.
Jake’s mind spun into overdrive as he thought of the projects he was managing, who he could delegate them to and meetings that would need to be rescheduled. One thing was for certain. He wasn’t prepared to let his son have two dreary weeks at home with the nanny because his mother had abandoned him.
He raked a hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? Any idea how hard it is to juggle everything at work at such short notice. I’ve got an advertising agency to run, you know.”
Lips pursed, she held his gaze. “You know, you’ve seemed dif
ferent lately. Like you’ve had something big on your mind. But if your business is more important to you than your son–”
“For crying out loud, woman. You’re the one flitting off to Italy, not me.”
“I can always stay here if you don’t want me to go.”
“Go, go!” Jake exploded. “I want you to go.”
Fine. She could go away for a month and spend as much money as she wanted. He’d be glad to be rid of her.
* * *
Rachel stepped out of the lift, pushed open the agency’s heavy glass door and strode to the reception desk where she asked for Jake only to be told he was with someone at the moment.
“Please take a seat,” the receptionist said. “I’ll phone through and see if he’ll be free soon.”
Just then Marcus appeared, a friendly smile washing over his face as soon as he recognised her. “You must be after Jake?”
Rachel nodded.
“Don’t worry about it, Anne,” Marcus said to the receptionist. “Jake’s visitor is on the way out. I’ll show Rachel through.”
“Thanks,” she said.
* * *
“Jake darling, I don’t know why you don’t take one of the bigger offices.” Bianca’s voice sailed over her shoulder as she ambled out of his office door. “The harbour view is excellent but this office really doesn’t do you justice.”
She and Jake had had this conversation many times before. He owned the agency yet he hadn’t chosen the largest, most prestigious office for himself and no matter how many times he tried to explain, she’d never understand.
Bianca waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the two larger offices down the hallway but she was already on her way out. She didn’t want a reply.
Then he saw her.
Rachel.
Being led down the hallway by Marcus.
With Bianca heading towards them.
Jake stood still, unable to stir, as the world around him moved slowly.
Bianca crept gradually towards Rachel. Marcus stopped, as if sensing something might be amiss. And Rachel, uncorrupted and pure, was gliding towards disaster with innocent grace.
Jake watched as if it were happening in slow motion. It was as though a baseball bat were being swung into a window and he was too slow, too far away to stop it.