by Nicola Marsh
Ironic, for a guy who didn’t trust easily, he’d pinned his hopes on a virtual stranger trusting him enough to leave her contact details?
Then again, she’d trusted him with her body. A stupid thought, considering he wasn’t naïve enough to assume sensational sex equated with anything beyond the heat of the moment.
A glance at the alarm clock beside the bed had him frowning and making a beeline for the bathroom.
He had a boardroom to convince.
Time enough later to use his considerable resources to discover the luscious Liza’s contact details.
* * *
In all the years Shar, Cindy’s caregiver, had stayed over, Liza had never needed to sneak past her ‘the morning after’.
By Shar’s raised eyebrows and smug smile as Liza eased off her sandals and tiptoed across the kitchen, only to be caught out when Shar stepped out of the pantry, the time for sneaking was long past.
Liza had been sprung.
‘Good morning.’ Shar held up a coffee plunger in one hand, a tin of Earl Grey in the other. ‘Which would you prefer?’
‘Actually, I think I’ll hit the shower—’
‘Your usual, then.’ Shar grabbed Liza’s favourite mug and measured leaves into a teapot. ‘Nothing like a cuppa to lubricate the vocal cords first thing in the morning.’
‘My vocal cords are fine.’
Liza cleared her throat anyway, knowing the huskiness came from too much moaning over the hours that Wade had pleasured her. Repeatedly.
Shar grinned. ‘Good. Then you can tell me who put that blush in your cheeks.’
Liza darted a quick glance at Cindy’s door.
‘She’s fine. Still asleep.’
One of the many things Liza loved about Shar was Cindy was the carer’s priority. Liza had seen it instantly when she’d interviewed Shar for the job after her mum had left.
Liza had been a hapless eighteen-year-old, used to looking out for her younger sister but shocked to find herself a full-time carer overnight.
She’d needed help and the cerebral palsy association had come through for her in a big way. Organised respite care, assisted with ongoing physio and occupational therapy and sent part-time carers to help.
Liza had known Shar was the best when Cindy took an instant liking to her and the older woman didn’t patronise either of them.
At that time Liza hadn’t needed a mother—she’d had one and look how that had turned out—she’d needed a friend, and Shar had been all that and more over the years.
Liza couldn’t have attended functions and cultivated her WAG image without Shar’s help and they’d eased into a workable schedule over the years. Liza spent all day with Cindy and Shar came in several evenings a week, more if Liza’s WAG duties had demanded it.
Liza had been lucky, being able to devote so much time to Cindy and support them financially. And when her investment matured today she’d be sure to give Shar a massive wage increase for her dedication, loyalty and friendship. And increase her hours to include days so Liza could find a job in marketing. One that didn’t involve marketing herself in front of the cameras.
‘Sit.’ Shar pointed at the kitchen table, covered in Cindy’s scrapbooking. ‘Start talking.’
‘Damn, you’re bossy,’ Liza said, not surprised to find a few muscles twanging as she slid onto the wooden chair.
She hadn’t had a workout like that in...for ever.
Though labelling what she’d done with Wade a workout seemed rather crass and casual.
The passion they’d shared—the caresses, the strokes, the exploration of each other’s bodies. She’d never been so uninhibited, so curious.
She knew the transient nature of their encounter had a lot to do with her wanton playfulness—easy to be bold with a guy she’d never see again.
So why did that thought leave her cold?
On waking, she’d spent an inordinate amount of time studying his features. The proud, straight nose with a tiny bump near the bridge, the dark stubble peppering his cheeks, the tiny scar near his right temple, the sensuous lips.
Those lips and what they’d done to her...oh boy.
‘On second thought, I need more than a caffeine shot to hear this story.’ Shar stood on tiptoe and grabbed the tin box storing their emergency brownie stash.
While Shar prepared the tea and chocolate fix, Liza wondered if she’d done the right thing in bolting. She had no clue about morning-after etiquette. Should she have left a thank-you note?
When she’d slid out of bed and done her best not to wake him, she’d dressed in record time yet spent another ten minutes dithering over a note. She’d even picked up a pen, only to let it fall from her fingers when she’d stared at the blank hotel paper with fear gripping her heart.
As she’d looked at that paper, she’d been tempted to leave her number. Before reality had set in. Wade hadn’t questioned her or made polite small talk. He hadn’t been interested in anything beyond the obvious. And that was enough of a wake-up call for her to grab her bag and get the hell out of that hotel room.
One-night stands were called that for a reason. That was all they were. One night.
The uncharacteristic yearning to see him again? To have a repeat performance of how incredible he made her feel? Not. Happening.
‘Right, here we go.’ Shar placed a steaming cup of Earl Grey in front of her along with two double-choc-fudge brownies on a side plate. ‘Get that into you, then start talking.’
Liza cupped her hands around the hot cup and lifted it to her lips, inhaling the fragrant bergamot steam. Earl Grey was her comfort drink, guaranteed to make her relax.
She’d drunk two pots of the stuff the morning she’d woken to find her mum gone.
It hadn’t been a shock. Louisa had been an emotionally absent mother for years before she’d left. Guess Liza should be grateful her mum had waited until Liza had turned eighteen before she’d done a runner, leaving her the legal guardian of Cindy.
Crazy thing was Liza had long forgiven her father for running out on them after Cindy’s birth. Men were fickle and couldn’t stand a little hardship. She’d come home from her first day of school to find her dad shoving belongings into his car in front of a stoic mum.
Louisa had cried silent tears, holding a twelve-month-old Cindy in her arms, while her dad had picked Liza up, hugged her tight, and told her to take good care of her sister.
And she’d been doing it ever since.
While Liza might have forgiven—and forgotten—her dad, she couldn’t forgive her mum as easily. Louisa had watched Cindy grow. Had been a good mum in her own way. But Liza had seen the signs. The subtle withdrawing of affection, longer respite visits away from the girls, the scrimping and saving of every cent.
Her mum hadn’t left a note either. She’d just walked out of the door one morning with her suitcases and never looked back.
If Louisa expected Liza to be grateful for the birthday cards stacked with hundred-dollar bills that arrived every year on Cindy’s birthday, she could think again.
Cindy needed love and caring, not guilt money.
Thankfully, with what Liza had done over the last decade, Cindy’s financial future was secure and they no longer needed her mum’s money.
Now she needed to start doing stuff for her and first item on the agenda involved finding her dream job. One that didn’t involve schmoozing or showing her best angle to the cameras.
She sipped at the tea, savouring the warmth.
‘Could you drink that any slower?’ Shar wiped brownie crumbs off her fingers and mimicked talking with her hand.
Liza placed a cup on the saucer and reached for a brownie, when Shar slapped her wrist. ‘You can eat later. I want details, girlie.’
Liza chuckled. ‘Better tell you s
omething before you break a bone.’
Shar’s hand continued to open and shut, miming chatter. ‘Still not enough of this.’
‘Okay, okay.’ Liza leaned back and sighed. ‘Henri’s book launch was every bit as boring and pompous as him. I was doing the rounds, talking to the regular people. I got bored as usual.’
Then she’d stepped out onto that balcony and her life had changed in an instant.
Melodramatic? Hell yeah, but no matter where her future led she’d never forget that one incredible night with Wade at the Westin.
‘And?’ Shar leaned forward and rubbed her hands together.
‘I needed some fresh air, headed outside, met someone.’
‘Now you’re talking.’
Liza sighed. How to articulate the rest without sounding like a floozy?
‘Shar, you know Cindy is my world, right?’
Shar’s eyes lost their playful sparkle and she nodded, sombre. ‘Never seen anyone as dedicated as you.’
‘Everything I’ve done is for my little sis and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but last night signalled a new beginning for me and when the opportunity to celebrate presented itself? Well, let’s just say I grabbed it with both hands.’
Shar let out a soft whoop and glanced at Cindy’s door. ‘Good for you.’ She leaned forward and wiggled her eyebrows. ‘So how was he?’
Liza made a zipping motion across her lips. ‘No kissing and telling here.’
Shar reached across and patted her forearm. ‘All I can say is about time, love. You’re a good girl, dating those dweebs to secure your financial future, making the most of your assets. About time you had a little fun.’
‘There was nothing little about it,’ Liza deadpanned, joining in Shar’s laughter a second later.
‘Hey, Liza, is it Coco Pops time?’
Liza’s heart squished as it always did at the sound of Cindy’s voice from behind her bedroom door. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her baby sister.
‘You know the drill. Weet-Bix as usual,’ Liza called out, draining the rest of her tea before heading to the bedroom to help Cindy dress.
‘Are you going to see him again?’ Shar asked as Liza paused with her hand on the doorknob.
Liza shook her head, the disappointment in Shar’s expression matching hers.
Silly, as Liza didn’t have time for disappointments. She had a secure investment about to mature, a new career in marketing to embark on and an easier life ahead.
No time at all to reminisce about the hottest night of her life and what might have been if she’d had the courage to leave her details.
‘Trade you a pancake stack for the Weet-Bix,’ Cindy said as Liza eased open the bedroom door.
The moment she saw Cindy’s beaming, lopsided smile, Liza wiped memories of Wade and focused on the number-one person in her life and her sole motivation.
Life was good.
She didn’t have room in it for commanding, sexy guys, no matter how unforgettable.
FOUR
LIZA LITHGOW’S STYLE TIPS
FOR MAXIMUM WAG WOW IMPACT
The Classics
You don’t need money to create a WAG wow look. Designer bargains, vintage chic and good accessories can create an outfit that will have the paparazzi snap-happy.
To create a timeless, elegant look consistently, it’s worthwhile investing in a few classic pieces, the items in any WAG’s wardrobe that will always be in style.
Little black dress. (A staple. Buy several: different lengths, necklines, fitting. The classic LBD is a lifesaver and can be combined with various jacket/shoe combinations to give the illusion of many different looks.)
Jacket. (Make sure it’s expensive and tailored. It will last for ever.)
Heels. (Black patent leather stilettos will never go out of style.)
Sunglasses. (Brand names are classy. Enlist the help of an honest shop assistant to ensure the shape/size suits your face.)
Boots. (Black and brown leather boots can be worn with anything and everything. High heels and flats in both recommended.)
Striped top. (Black and white stripes are a staple. Dress up or down.)
Ballet flats. (Perfect to pop into your bag to use at the end of a long day at the Spring Racing Carnival or a long night of dancing.)
Trousers. (Tailored black and beige will go with almost anything. Wide leg is elegant. Bootleg flattering.)
Belt. (Thin, black leather. Classic.)
Cardigan. (Cream cashmere, can’t go wrong.)
Clutch. (Smaller than a handbag yet makes a bigger statement.)
Handbag. (Must carry everything including the kitchen sink but bigger isn’t always better. Co-ordinate handbag to your outfit and shoes. Choose neutral colours: black, tan, brown. Mid-size with handles and shoulder strap best.)
Jeans. (Discover which style suits you best and stick with it. But for maximum WAG wow, have denim in various cuts: skinny, bootleg, boyfriend, etc.)
Trenchcoat. (Double-breasted, belted, beige. Classic.)
Watch. (For timeless elegance, invest in an expensive watch. People notice.)
Bling. (Take the ‘less is best’ approach. Diamond stud earrings. Thin white gold necklace. Unless your sports star partner wins the World Cup or Olympics for his team, then get him to buy you a diamond mine and then some.)
With Cindy engrossed in her electronic tablet, Liza ducked into the shower, something she should’ve done the moment she’d arrived home to scrub off the lingering smell of Wade’s aftershave.
Maybe that was why she hadn’t? For the moment she towelled off, slipped on her skinny jeans and a turquoise long-sleeved T-shirt, and padded into the kitchen to say bye to Shar, she missed it—his evocative crisp citrus scent.
Irrational? Absolutely, but it wasn’t every day an amazingly hot guy left his designer aftershave imprinted on her skin.
The perky hum died in her throat as she caught sight of Shar waving a stack of messages at her.
‘These are for you.’
Liza raised an eyebrow. ‘All of them?’
Shar nodded. ‘I didn’t want to bombard you when you first came in.’
‘More like you wanted the goss and knew those would distract me.’
‘That too.’ Shar grinned and handed them over. ‘Looks like some editor from Qu Publishing is mighty persistent.’
Liza groaned. ‘Can’t those morons get a clue and stop badgering me?’
‘Doesn’t look like it.’ Shar pointed to the message slips in her hand. ‘All those are from her.’
‘No way.’
Liza flicked through the lot, twelve in all. Nine yesterday when she’d been out in the afternoon and later at the party, three while she’d been in the shower this morning.
‘She said she’d call back in ten minutes.’
‘Like hell.’ Liza stomped over to the bin and dumped the lot. ‘I’m sick to death of being pestered by this mob and I’m going to put a stop to it.’
Shar punched the air. ‘You go, girl.’
Liza grinned. ‘While I’m kicking some publisher butt, maybe you should stop watching daytime TV?’
‘Careful, cheeky.’ Shar shooed her away. ‘You’ve got an hour before I need to leave, so hop to it.’
Liza didn’t need to be told twice.
No way, no how, would she ever sell her story. Cindy needed to be protected at all costs and the last thing she wanted was a bunch of strangers reading about their lives and intruding.<
br />
For they would, she had no doubt. There’d be book tours and blog tours and a social media explosion if she told all. It was why these Qu Publishing vultures were hounding her. They knew a best-seller when they saw it.
Laughable, really. What would they say if they knew the truth? That she’d invented a fake life to protect her real one?
That every event, every lash extension, every designer gown, had fitted a deliberate persona she’d cultivated to get what she wanted.
Lifelong security for her little sis.
And when her financial adviser rang today and gave her the good news about her investments maturing, she could put away her lash curler and hair straightener for ever.
Yeah, the sooner she set this publisher straight, the better.
She yanked on black knee-high boots and shrugged into a sable leather vest with fake fur collar. While being a WAG had been a pain, some of the perks, like the gorgeous designer clothes she’d got to keep on occasion, had been great.
She’d miss the clothes. She wouldn’t miss the rest.
Time to hang up her stilettos and set the record straight.
* * *
Wade strode into the boardroom with five minutes to spare then spent the next thirty listening to a bunch of boring agenda items that could’ve been wrapped up in half that time.
He wished they’d cut to the chase.
The future of Qu Publishing depended on a bunch of old fuddy-duds that wouldn’t know a profit margin if it jumped up and bit them on the ass.
The members of the board were old school, had been best buddies with his dad and, in turn, were rather fond of his delightful wife Babs.
When the chairman had articulated that little gem at the party last night, he’d wanted to hurl.
Was Wade the only guy who could see through her fake wiles?
By the board’s decision to back Babs in her quest to sell Qu Publishing? Hell yeah.
He knew it would take a monumental effort to save this company. From the accounts down to the staff, Qu needed a major overhaul. And to do that they needed a cash injection, in the form of a mega best-seller.