by Nicola Marsh
‘How about we meet at Seaborns? That way you can show me what Ruby has in mind for some of the major pieces?’
‘Sure, that’s doable.’
There he went again. One word—doable—and he could see the two of them doing each other.
‘Better get cracking.’
He mentally cringed at how abrupt he sounded, not surprised when she shot him a sideways glance.
But in true Sapphire form she didn’t push the issue or demand answers. She picked up her portfolio, hoisted her handbag onto her shoulder, and headed towards the door.
With her hand on the doorknob, she paused. ‘Want to hear something crazy?’
Crazier than how badly he wanted her?
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m actually looking forward to this.’
Her impish grin as she eased through the door made him want to stride across the office and haul her back in.
She wasn’t the only one looking forward to the month ahead.
Who said he couldn’t mix a little pleasure with business?
CHAPTER FOUR
RUBY AND OPAL had a plate of double-coated Tim Tams waiting for Sapphie when she got back.
They’d closed the showroom and were lounging around the makeshift living room near Ruby’s studio. It was a new addition in her absence and, while she liked Ruby having a place to chill between inspiration hits, it reminded her of her failure.
She should have been here.
Instead she’d been recuperating after being an ass, not trusting Ruby enough to share the responsibilities of running Seaborns, and driving herself into the ground because of it.
If she hadn’t wound up chronically tired, her body aching all over, barely able to lift her head off the pillow because of the headaches…No, she wouldn’t think about the possible consequences of her controlling behaviour. Not today, when hopefully she’d ensured that Seaborns would never face the threat of closure ever again.
She’d been so stupid, thinking she could control everything. Lucky for her, her body had sent out some pretty powerful warning signals, and she’d listened before the chronic fatigue syndrome had really taken hold.
For weeks before she’d finally admitted defeat she’d existed on caffeine energy drinks and liquid vitamins, trying to push through the tiredness, taking on a bigger workload.
It wasn’t as if she’d never been tired before. Running a business took its toll, and she’d been used to functioning on minimal sleep and snatched meals.
Until her body had other ideas.
She’d pulled yet another all-nighter after a long week of meetings with accountants and suppliers, had been in the process of downing her second energy drink for the morning, when she’d fainted, clipping her head on the corner of her desk on the way down.
Ruby had heard the noise, panicked when she’d found her unconscious and called an ambulance.
She’d come to before the paramedics arrived, but by the hard glint in Ruby’s eyes Sapphie had known her number was up and she couldn’t fool anyone any longer.
The paramedics might have pronounced her vital signs to be sound, but that hadn’t stopped Ruby badgering her into a doctor’s visit and a thorough physical.
Sapphie had barely got through the preliminaries before admitting defeat. Her body simply hadn’t been holding up under the pressure she was placing on it.
If Ruby’s scathing scolding hadn’t convinced her to take three months off and check into a health spa the doc would have.
The moment she’d heard the long-term repercussions of CFS she’d booked a place at Tenang ASAP. Ongoing joint pain, visual disturbances, recurring sore throats, chronic cough, chest pain, allergies, depression…She’d asked the doc to stop around then, wishing she hadn’t been so stubborn in shouldering Seaborns without real help.
She’d had a lucky escape, had listened to her body’s symptoms in time, but every morning when she woke she experienced a moment of fleeting panic that maybe she wasn’t as strong as she thought she was.
She went through the same daily routine now: deep breaths, ten in total, pushing her abdomen out, filling her lungs. Followed by pointing her toes towards the end of the bed five times, contracting her leg muscles. Bicycling in the air, loosening up her back. A few gentle reps of abdominal curls, finished with a hands-overhead stretch from top to bottom.
It had become a ritual, a way of ensuring her muscles woke slowly before she actually got out of bed, a way of caring for them when she hadn’t before.
The regular meditation and yoga sessions had helped her reconnect with her body too, and she actually looked forward to the muscle-twanging stretches and peaceful interludes within a busy day.
As for her diet, she’d ditched the caffeine, always managed to scrounge three small protein-rich meals a day and drank her weight in filtered water.
She needed her body in tip-top working order, and making Seaborns successful now had more to do with proving that her physical strength hadn’t diminished as keeping a promise to her mum before she’d died.
Ruby patted the sofa next to her. ‘Take a seat and tell us everything.’
Where should Sapphie start? The part where Patrick had kissed her again and she’d let him? Or the part where they almost needed a force field to keep them from ripping each other’s clothes off whenever they got within two feet?
That meeting in his office had been horrendous—much worse than she’d anticipated. Not on any professional level, he’d seriously impressed her there, but for the simple fact she couldn’t explain where the heady sexual tension had sprung from.
If she’d had to deal with that during Year 12 she would’ve failed Biology for sure.
He wasn’t helping matters either, playing up to it. Not that she should be surprised. It was what he did.
But her reaction…The flushed skin, the sweaty palms, the buzz thrumming her body…Inexplicable.
She couldn’t afford to be attracted to Patrick—not when they’d be working on this campaign together.
Try telling that to her body.
And that was what bugged her the most. She’d been going to great lengths to take care of her body yet in one hour he’d managed to make her feel alive in a way she hadn’t for a long time.
She could put it down to endorphins, the euphoria associated with nailing her presentation, but what was the point in lying?
Her body had hummed because it strained to be naked with Patrick’s, endorphins or not.
‘There’s not much to tell,’ Sapphie said, hoping her cheeks wouldn’t show a betraying blush.
‘Yeah, and I’m about to abseil down the Eureka Towers wearing nothing but a tiara,’ Ruby said, shaking her head. ‘You know we’ll make it up if you don’t tell us.’
Sapphie settled for the abridged version.
‘Patrick came up with the idea of old Hollywood glamour as the lynchpin of his Fashion Week show.’ She cradled her tea, the warmth a welcome infusion for her icy hands. They matched her cold feet after spending too many hours one-on-one with the guy who made her body hum just by being near him. ‘I think it’s fantastic.’
‘Sure is.’
Opal slid the plate of Tim Tams across to her and Sapphie took two, demolishing the first before the chocolate oozed onto her fingers.
‘This is going to gain recognition for Seaborns overseas. I just know it.’
‘Great going.’ Ruby nudged her with an elbow. ‘Now tell us the rest.’
Opal stifled a giggle and Sapphie glared at her sister. ‘What have you been saying?’
‘Nothing.’
Ruby’s deliberately wide eyes and faux innocent smile wouldn’t have fooled anyone. ‘When our lovely cuz was helping me do inventory I happened to mention the way Patrick looked at you yesterday.’ Ruby pointed at Opal. ‘Not my fault if she jumps to conclusions.’
Opal snorted. ‘If memory serves correctly, you were the one waxing lyrical about Saph “needing to get some” and Patrick being “ just the guy to g
ive it to her”.’
Sapphie glared at Ruby. ‘Tell me you didn’t say that.’
‘Okay, then, I won’t tell you.’ Ruby winked and crammed another Tim Tam into her mouth while Sapphie resisted the urge to bury her face in the nearest cushion to hide any incriminating blushes.
Opal studied her over her skinny latte before placing the coffee glass on the table. ‘We looked him up Saph, and I have to say he’s incredibly hot. If he’s half as good in person as he is on screen…’
Great. Just what she needed. Her cousin and her sister joining forces in trying to get her laid.
‘I used to dissect frogs with the guy. It kinda takes the shine away.’
‘Bull—’ Ruby covered the rest of her declaration with a fake sneeze. ‘I saw the way you looked yesterday after he’d dropped around.’
‘Tired and frazzled?’
Ruby made a buzzing sound. ‘Incorrect. Try perky and glowing.’
‘You’re full of it,’ Sapphie said, glancing at Opal for support.
She shrugged and picked up her coffee to hide a burgeoning grin.
‘Okay, then, let’s look at this rationally.’ Ruby elbowed her. ‘You’ve been recuperating for months, and for half a year before that you were steadily driving yourself into the ground— which is why you almost ended up with severe chronic fatigue syndrome.’
Sapphie opened her mouth to respond but Ruby held up her hand.
‘During that time you didn’t date. You didn’t eat either. But that’s another lecture you’ve already had.’ Ruby tapped her bottom lip, pretending to ponder. ‘And, as I recall, one of the things you said when I picked you up from Tenang two weeks ago was, “I really need a date—bad.”’
‘You said it. Date being the operative word. Date—not business colleague.’
‘That’s beside the point and you know it.’ Ruby dunked a Tim Tam in her espresso. Pushy and sacrilegious. ‘It’s not like you guys are strangers. You hung out all through senior year—’
‘Once again, that was for work. We were Biology lab partners, that’s all.’
Ruby waved the Tim Tam around; it would serve her right if it softened, and the dunked bit fell off and landed on the floor.
‘I’m not that much younger than you, Saph, and I remember the way you’d be after studying with him.’
Sapphie clamped her lips shut. Of course she’d looked different after studying with Patrick. The guy had driven her insane with his lack of concentration and constant distractions.
‘You’d look the same way you did yesterday. Glowing.’
Sapphie waited until Ruby had stuffed the Tim Tam into her mouth so she couldn’t respond.
‘I was a serious student and Patrick’s mission in life was to make our study sessions as hard as humanly possible. He was a pain in the ass. Who may have made cramming for exams bearable with his bickering. So that glow was probably relief that for a few hours a week I could forget about everything else and just be a kid, maybe even laugh a little.’
Ruby’s hand paused halfway to her mouth as Opal darted confused glances between them.
‘As for yesterday? Already told you. I probably caught too much sun while doing yoga out the back.’
Opal smirked at that one, while Ruby shook her head. ‘You know how I feel about you shouldering the load and the unrealistic expectations Mum put on you. Not fair. Not by a long shot. So the fact Patrick made you laugh…don’t you want to recapture that feeling again?’
Ruby didn’t have to say it but the rest of her sentence hung in the air, unsaid…After all you’ve been through?
She knew Ruby wouldn’t let this go until she gave her a snippet of truth. ‘’Course I want to feel carefree, but that’s just it, Rubes. All the meditation and yoga and Pilates in the world aren’t going to change facts. Sure, I’ve learned to chill, but I am who I am, and the best way for me to start feeling good again is to do what I do best. Work. Run Sea-borns. Contribute.’
Ensure she could cope physically with the demands of a job she loved.
That was what had scared her most during recovery—hoping her body could keep up with her mind.
She had so many plans she wanted to instigate, so many ways to ensure Seaborns stayed on top in the jewellery business, but she wouldn’t be able to do a darn thing if her body let her down.
Hopefully, with a little TLC, her battered body would be back to its invincible best soon.
‘Crazy workaholic,’ Opal muttered, pretending she didn’t see the death glare Sapphie shot her.
‘You can still do all those things and have fun,’ Ruby said, slinging an arm across her shoulders. ‘The thing is, if you’re so busy working and getting this showing together, how will you have time to find a date? Bonking Patrick kills two birds with one stone—’
‘How about killing two family members with one stone?’ Sapphie jabbed a finger at the octagonal lapis lazuli pendant hanging around her sister’s neck. ‘That’s big enough to do the trick.’
Opal laughed and pointed at Ruby. ‘She started it.’
Ruby chuckled and squeezed her shoulders. ‘Think about it, okay? You’re busy but you need to have a little fun. Patrick seems like the perfect solution.’
Unfortunately Sapphie happened to agree.
She could protest all she liked but Ruby made sense. She’d be working on this showing with him twenty-four-seven. She wouldn’t have time to socialise let alone date.
Would it be so bad to give in to a little harmless flirtation?
Only one problem. Considering how her body came to life around him, how harmless would the flirtation be?
Several hours later Patrick questioned the wisdom of meeting Sapphire at her place to work.
Keeping his hands off her in the sterility of his office had been difficult enough without this…this…cosiness.
Meeting at the Seaborns showroom should have been entirely business-focussed. Instead they’d reported their day’s progress in an hour and made an agenda for tomorrow in the following thirty minutes. Leaving him pacing the tiny apartment over the showroom while she ‘slipped into something more comfortable.’
Yeah, she’d actually said those words, completely ingenu-ous—until he’d snorted. Only then had recognition dawned.
She’d rolled her eyes at him, accused him of having a filthy mind and strolled into the bedroom, slipping off her towering ebony patent leather pumps along the way.
The black seam of her stockings, starting at her heel and running all the way up her legs and underneath her knee-length crimson skirt had not helped the filthy mind situation.
If any other woman had uttered those words he would have been prepped for a bout of wild sex. Coming from Sapphire, after ninety minutes of work focus, he acknowledged it for what it was. The simple statement of a tired workaholic who wanted to change out of her business suit.
He knew the feeling. Following her example, he unknotted his tie and stuffed it into his jacket, hanging on the back of a chair. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled them up to his elbows but stopped short of slipping off his pants. Time enough for her to see his boxers.
Chuckling under his breath at what she’d think of that cocky declaration, he wandered around the apartment. The place wasn’t like Sapphire at all, with its ethnic cushions in bright colours, mismatched multi-coloured bottles serving as vases and a stack of chick-flicks in towering disarray next to an ancient DVD player.
She’d told him Ruby used to live here, before she’d moved out recently to be with her husband, and that Sapphire found it convenient while she eased back into the business.
When he’d asked why she had to ease back she’d clammed up and made a big deal of going over their itineraries for the next week.
Discomfort had made her babble so he’d let her off the hook. For now. Day two of the frantic month’s work ahead wasn’t the best time to be interrogating his colleague. He’d bide his time. Maybe a fine bottle of Grange wouldn’t go astray?
Great, not
only was he assuming he’d get her naked, he wanted to get her drunk too.
Way to go with his reformation.
Those days of carousing were long behind him. He’d grown tired of the paparazzi’s constant scandalmongering in Paris, had found their scrutiny of his social life tiresome. Sure, his lifestyle had served its purpose, getting them to focus on his wild ways rather than that botched first showing, but it had reached a stage where he hadn’t been able to travel through Europe without some journo assuming it involved a woman, a secret assignation, or both.
And when there was nothing they simple invented it. Funny how one mistake in his past had long-term ramifications. Despite him towing the company line for many years now, he’d never shaken the feeling the paparazzi were one step away from reviving the disaster of his early show.
So he’d played up to the party animal image, hung around Serge despite the two of them growing apart in the maturity stakes, because it had been way easier being seen as a playboy than as a disillusioned guy out to prove himself.
His parents had written him off a long time ago, so nothing he’d done socially mattered. As long as he stuck to the rules where Fourde Fashion was concerned they were happy.
Those rules were mighty restricting, and not conducive to creativity, but he’d done what he had to do the last few years to regain respectability in a cut throat industry that didn’t give too many second chances.
It had been part of his long-term goal to become a valued member of Fourde Fashion, because no way could he pull off his plans unless he had an established name in the biz.
After the ‘ flamboyant, avant garde, cutting edge’ show that had cost the company thousands when he’d first started, he’d learned to bide his time.
He’d known the fashion world would be ready for a contemporary transformation eventually. It was just a matter of when. Lucky for him, that time was now.
He’d watched the tide turn in Europe with increasing excitement. Sure, there would always be a place for classic couture houses like Dior, Chanel and Fourde Fashion, but an influx of young designers had seen a few indie collections that made his blood fizz with anticipation.