by Blake, Nina
Love’s campaign.
Chapter ten
Rachel strode into the bedroom of her Coogee apartment, her body writhing with conflicting emotions.
Married. Not married. Separated. She didn’t know what to believe or think.
And that kiss. She’d certainly wanted it. She may have pushed Jake away earlier in the evening but later, when he wrapped his arms around her, there was no doubt she’d yearned for him.
She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I’m doing any more.”
Opening the door of her wardrobe, she picked up the jacket that was lying on her bed, grabbed a hanger and thrust the jacket onto it. As she shoved it roughly back onto the rail, she knocked the surrounding clothes onto the wardrobe floor.
“Oh, blow it!”
Talk about frustrating. She retrieved the fallen garments and hung them back up. Her eyes fell upon the dust covered black guitar case leaning in the back corner of the wardrobe. It was strange. It had been there for years and although she opened her closet every day, she never even noticed it.
She reached inside, grabbed the black leather handle and swung the guitar case onto her bed. She flicked open the gold latches and opened the case, admiring how the plush lining had kept the guitar dust free.
Nick’s Martin D28 acoustic maple top guitar. The one thing that had belonged to him with which she simply couldn’t bear to part. She’d refused to sell it even though the guitar would have brought in much needed money to help cover the debts after Nick passed away.
It had always been at the back of her mind. Perhaps one day she’d have a son or daughter of her own who might play it.
She’d saved for the guitar for over a year, putting aside a little money each week. The instrument was much more than she could afford at the time but she hadn’t cared. She’d wanted Nick to have the best. Wanted to show him how much she loved him.
The last time she’d seen the guitar had been a bad day. Worse than the day Nick died. If that were possible.
She’d been in the bedroom of their old house in Balmain, sorting through Nick’s belongings after the accident. The floor and bed had been covered in piles of clothes, some in boxes, others stacked in neat piles.
That was when she’d found the envelope.
She’d thought it odd there should be an envelope in Nick’s tee shirt drawer. She recalled lifting the stack of tee shirts and placing them on the bed. She’d been hesitant as she removed the envelope that was carefully wedged between two white shirts. The familiar shape of photographs filled the envelope, the mottled colours showing through the white of the envelope.
She’d sat on the bed and stared at the item in her hands. Why would Nick keep photos in his tee shirt drawer?
She’d laid the photos out on the bed and stared at them. She hadn’t sobbed or made a sound, not right away. She’d hoped her stillness and solitude could stop time, stop her world as it tumbled down around her.
She looked at the photos and she knew.
They weren’t indecent. But the story they told was indisputable.
She’d recognised the woman with her husband as someone who worked at Nick’s office. She was probably a bit older than Rachel, perhaps in her late twenties at the time. She’d always thought her quite pleasant.
There was a photo of them at a bar, a blurred glass of white wine in the foreground. It must have been hers. Nick didn’t drink white wine. There was just the two of them in shot, heads close together as they smiled broadly. Rachel knew Nick had taken the photo himself by holding the camera in the air in his right hand and pointing it at them.
He’d taken photos of the two of them, Rachel and Nick, the same way. When they first started dating. When he had loved her more.
In other shots, the two of them were at the beach, lying side by side, sharing a towel by the looks of it. Then they were embracing. And in another photo, kissing.
Someone else must have taken those photos which only led to more questions. How many other people knew about this relationship? For that’s what it was.
Instantly it had all made sense. The late nights Nick said he worked. His sudden interest in tennis. The credit card bills for extravagant new clothes, hotels, restaurants, even airfares for what was supposed to have been a business trip. She only found out after Nick’s passing, that he’d taken a second mortgage on their house and sold his share of the architecture business. All to cover his new obsession.
All for this woman.
Rachel had held the photos. Her tears had fallen on them and she’d run her fingers over the pictures to wipe them dry.
She hadn’t known then that she would see the woman one last time.
* * *
The following Monday, Rachel’s boss, Patrick Flanagan, swept into the office she shared with Samantha.
He leaned in the doorway, an enormous smile on his face. “I hope you two are free on Friday night because you’re both needed for a very important job.”
“On Friday night?” Samantha said. “What kind of work are we supposed to do on a Friday night?”
“Agency 66 is having a cocktail party for their clients and suppliers,” Patrick replied. “At Café Balthazar. We’re all invited. Jake Austin called me about it.”
“Jake?” Rachel nearly choked.
“He apologised for the short notice but he only decided this morning to go ahead with it,” Patrick said. “His secretary is going to email the invitations later today. He wanted to make sure we’d all be going.”
“I’ve heard about their parties.” Samantha’s face was awash with excitement. “They’re a really big deal. Full open bar. Real French champagne. Everybody who’s anybody will be there. Café Balthazar, I can’t wait.”
“Well, you’ll both be there.” Patrick smiled. “Unfortunately I’ll be in Melbourne for the weekend.”
“It’s very short notice,” Rachel said.
“Come on, Rach,” Samantha said. “I’m sure you can squeeze it into your social calendar.”
Jake had already phoned Rachel earlier that morning but he hadn’t mentioned anything about this Friday night function. She’d limited their conversation to the campaign because she needed time to work out if he’d told her the truth about his marital separation.
She’d have refused this invitation if he’d spoken to her about it. It was little wonder he’d sent it down through her boss.
A stray thought flitted across her mind. But, no, it wasn’t possible for Jake to hold an enormous function simply for her benefit.
“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it,” Patrick said. “I expect you both to be there. We might be their clients but the agency is doing us a huge favour by taking the campaign pro bono.”
Samantha beamed. “No problem.”
Rachel forced her lips into a smile. “Certainly.”
If only there was no problem. If only it were just an opportunity to get dressed up and drink cocktails and champagne. How lovely that would be.
The problem was that Jake affected her as no man had before. Her mind was telling her to stay away from him. He was in a different league.
Her heart was telling her something else.
She couldn’t deny the overwhelming physical attraction.
And more.
* * *
Rachel walked into Café Balthazar on the rooftop of the recently refurbished Imperial House. Floor to ceiling glass doors opened out onto the terrace with its spectacular views. Circular Quay, the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House at a single glance. In contrast, the interior was filled with dark timber and silver metalwork
It was very different from the small Italian restaurant Jake had chosen for their lunch date. She was sure no one else in Sydney knew about that place but everyone knew Café Balthazar.
She scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face, then smiled as she spotted Samantha. Sam waved, then turned as someone put a hand on her shoulder. It was Jake, leaning across to greet her with a peck on the cheek.
&
nbsp; Her colleague then whispered in Jake’s ear and nodded in Rachel’s direction. His eyes locked with hers. It was too late to pretend she hadn’t seen him. No going back.
The sight of him sent a tingle up her spine as she made her way through the crowd toward them.
Jake looked equally comfortable in the black fine wool suit he was wearing as he did in a pair of well worn jeans. The jacket outlined his broad shoulders and followed the contours of his body down to his slender waist and hips. Even the well cut trousers did nothing to hide the masculinity of his muscular thighs.
“Good evening, Rachel.” Jake’s voice resonated above the rumble of the crowd.
Sidling deliciously close, he slipped a hand onto her waist and dipped his head towards her for a sedate kiss on the cheek. He made her feel small and delicate. She tilted her head up to return his greeting and stepped back.
Looking into the depths of his dark eyes, Rachel knew she’d have to be very careful tonight.
A tall grey haired gentleman reached across to shake Jake’s hand, his eyes lighting up as he recognised Samantha and the three of them were suddenly rapt in conversation.
Seconds later Rachel saw a flash of red hair and a stunning emerald green blouse as Emma Jones, Jake’s assistant, slipped in and grabbed her arm affectionately.
“Rachel, you look sensational tonight,” Emma gushed. “It’s been a lot of work organising this at such short notice but it’s been worth it.”
“So you did all this?” Rachel asked.
Emma tossed back a quick sip of champagne. “Quite a bit. But you’d be surprised how much Jake does himself. He doesn’t really need a PA. He got the ball rolling with this and told me exactly what he wanted. I was freaking out about getting everything done in only a few days but he was cool about the whole thing.”
Rachel nodded, uncertain whether she wanted to talk about Jake. Uncertain she’d like what she heard.
Emma continued. “He’s a fantastic boss. He’s really taken care of me. Nurtured me.”
“Nurtured you?” Rachel raised her eyebrows. “He’s so focussed and directed with the campaign. Sorry but I didn’t think he was the nurturing type.”
“Actually, he is. He helped me out with a loan once but didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I don’t even know if he told anyone. It’s funny. For someone in advertising, he’s not big on self promotion.”
Rachel wasn’t sure she was ready to hear more and have her world shaken again, but at the same time she was desperate to find out more about Jake’s private life. Talk about conflicting emotions.
“Jake’s always talking about his son,” she said.
Emma smiled. “Connor’s such a lovely kid. For years, Jake’s been keeping the family together for Connor’s sake but his ex is so difficult to deal with.”
Rachel couldn’t help herself. “His ex?”
“Yeah, you know he’s separated? But they’ve got this weird arrangement where they live in the same house, only separately. So Connor can have both parents living with him.” Emma rolled her eyes.
Jake’s explanation about his home life was so convoluted she hadn’t immediately believed him but this young woman who worked for him had no reason to lie. She’d seen enough of Emma to know she was hard working and honest.
“What’s she like, this ex?” Rachel asked.
“I never liked her. I’m not surprised they’re separated. He hasn’t even invited her tonight.”
Separated. Emma used that word again. There was nothing remarkable in her tone of voice as she simply mentioned it in passing. The young woman hadn’t been primed to have this conversation with her.
Across the room, Jake was speaking to a couple of young, well dressed men. Had her opinion of Jake been a series of misjudgements? She’d thought him arrogant and she was probably right on that account, but he wasn’t as dictatorial as she’d first thought.
She’d found it easier to believe he was the kind of man who’d be unfaithful rather than accept he was separated from his wife. Still, his living arrangements were extremely unusual so her reaction wasn’t surprising.
Nick’s adultery was a thick smog which had hung over Rachel for four years. She never understood how it had happened. And now it was seeping through, pervading the rest of her life.
In her heart she believed they could have overcome Nick’s infidelity but after his death, she didn’t get the chance to face him. Find out why he did it. Find out what had happened. Work out if she would stay with him.
That was the crux of her problem. She’d been cheated out of reaching a resolution with Nick.
Instead Rachel believed that somehow she got what she deserved.
Suddenly Samantha grabbed her arm to introduce her to someone.
“Rachel, this is Gary Preacher, my old boss when I worked at the TV station,” Samantha said. It was the same man Jake had been speaking to earlier. “He’s got some amazing news for us.”
“Samantha’s been telling me all about you.” Gary shook Rachel’s hand. “But I told her I already knew about Skin Plus.”
“How’s that?” she asked. “It hasn’t been launched yet.”
“I’m surprised Jake hasn’t told you about how he’s conned me into giving you an exorbitant amount of air time.”
Rachel’s mouth fell open.
“The station doesn’t allow much free air time for community announcements,” he said. “And the ads are usually shown after midnight when everyone’s asleep. However Jake called in a few favours and we’ll be showing your Skin Plus ads in prime time so it’ll get good exposure.”
Her eyes lit up. “That’s fantastic. I can’t believe it.”
“I can guarantee it wouldn’t have happened if Jake hadn’t been so persistent. He really wants this to be a success.”
“It’s been a team effort.” She glanced at Samantha.
“I’m sure it has,” Gary replied. “But if you don’t have the money to pay for TV and radio time no one will ever know about it.”
“That’s true.”
Samantha looked at Rachel. “And that’s not all. Gary, what were the other programs you were telling me about?”
He said, “Jake insisted I speak to some of the other people at the station and it looks like both the morning show and the evening current affairs program are interested in running pieces on Skin Plus.”
Rachel shook Gary’s hand again. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Jake’s the one you should thank,” he said. “I thought you’d already know about this but then again I’ve noticed he can be a bit modest about some things.”
“We’ll be sure to thank him.” Samantha turned to Rachel. “Won’t we?”
“Absolutely.”
She should have been pleased as she learnt more and more about Jake but instead it scared her. It was much easier to cope when she believed him to be a man of questionable integrity. If he was married, she’d have to brush him off, regardless of her feelings.
But now the barriers standing between them were disintegrating, leaving only her own fears.
She had to clear her head. Jake was at the opposite end of the room. That suited her fine for the time being.
She had to keep some distance between them. Just for a while.
Chapter eleven
Jake saw Bianca strutting towards him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” She arched her neck upward to kiss him on the cheek. He’d have pushed her away except he didn’t want to cause a scene.
“You’re not welcome here.”
“Jake, don’t be so silly. We’ve had this argument already.”
“Too right we have. I told you before. This is a business function, not a ladies’ lunch. And I don’t want you here.”
“But Jake.” Bianca pressed her breasts forward, unconcerned they were already spilling out of her highly revealing outfit. “I have this new Dolce and Gabbana dress and now
here to wear it. I had to come.”
Did she expect a compliment about her appearance? He wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible and dreaded to think what Rachel would do if she saw her. He had to protect her from being hurt like that again.
“What do you hope to gain from this?” he asked.
“Do you really want to know?” Bianca’s eyes narrowed as she spoke.
Silence.
Her eyes collided with Jake’s. “I came to see her.”
“What are you talking about?” He had to keep a clear head. There was no way Bianca could know about Rachel and if she did, he had to keep them apart.
Bianca glanced around. “I figured she’d be either hanging off your arm or at the opposite end of the room, pretending there’s nothing going on. That’s usually how it works. And she’s not hanging off your arm so…”
The woman was a conniving cow. She was also very astute.
He glared at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve had enough. You’re out of here.”
His marriage to Bianca was over. There was nothing left of it but he had more self-respect than to discuss it in a public place.
“You should be more careful, you know, Jake. I’m worth more to you than some bimbo. If you lose me, you’ll become a weekend father. You’ll lose the one thing that’s most important to you. Connor.”
He slipped his arm into hers and steered her brusquely towards the door. She didn’t fight him though she seemed to be taking the opportunity to scan the room and check out its occupants.
Bianca pulled her arm away from his when they reached the door. “Don’t think you’re that clever. There are some things a woman just knows. You’ve changed and I know why.”
“Goodnight, Bianca.”
She looked over her shoulder as she stepped out the door. “It’s not over until I say so.”
* * *
Marcus had already spent part of the evening talking to clients and working on the agency’s business connections. He’d done his bit for the agency. Now it was time to enjoy himself. Cocktails, French champagne, masses of imported beer, an elaborate buffet and a room full of women dressed to the nines. What more could a man want?