The Last Guy She Should Call

by Joss Wood

  Seb mimed putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger and Rowan laughed.

  They sat and sipped their drinks in a comfortable silence before Seb asked, ‘By the way, what happened to the boat party you were organising?’

  ‘Ah, the sixteen-year-old birthday girl changed her mind. Now she wants to go to a Justin Bieber concert instead.’

  Seb shuddered.

  ‘I’m getting party enquiries all the time, but I don’t want to take on anything I can’t deliver in the next week or so. You said that my parents should be home on Sunday—four days from now—and I have to be in London by the following weekend to meet Grayson, so there’s no point in trying to get too involved. Pity, because it’s good money.’

  ‘So you’ll be gone in a week or so?’ Seb asked in a very even voice that hid all the emotion in his voice.

  ‘That’s the plan,’ Rowan said lightly as her heart contracted violently. A week? Was that all they had? Where had the last two weeks gone? She wanted them back, dammit.

  ‘God...’ Seb muttered into his drink.

  It would be another goodbye and the hardest one that she’d ever have to say. Harder even than that first one, when she’d run away to find herself, to find out what made sense to her. When had he become so important? So hard to leave?

  ‘Did you go next door this afternoon?’ Seb asked, changing the subject.

  Rowan nodded.

  ‘And...?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s just a house. They haven’t changed much.’

  ‘Your parents don’t do change.’

  ‘But I do, and maybe now I can look at them differently.’ Rowan took a sip of wine and looked thoughtful. ‘I did a great deal of thinking this afternoon, so maybe it was a good thing that you got tied up at work.’

  ‘I want to hear about it, but maybe we should order first.’ Seb beckoned the waitress over, asked for two gourmet burgers and another round of drinks. When the waitress had left, he gestured to Rowan with his glass. ‘Talk.’

  ‘How come you just expect me to spill my guts but you don’t?’

  ‘Because you’re the emotional one and I’m not,’ Seb replied.

  Except that she was beginning to realise that Seb was far more emotional than anyone knew. He just had years of hiding it.

  ‘I’m starting to think that Fate had a hand in me coming home—that it’s telling me that I need to pull my head out of the sand and start dealing with all those old hurts and grievances. If I hadn’t bought those netsukes, run out of cash and been flagged by Oz immigration I wouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Having amazing sex with your arch enemy?’ Seb interjected.

  ‘Having amazing sex with my old friend,’ Rowan corrected, and saw the flare of appreciation, of attraction...fondness?...in his eyes. No emotion, my ass.

  ‘I need to see my parents, deal with my issues around my mother, reconcile with them—her. Mostly her.’ Rowan sighed. ‘Maybe I’m finally starting to understand that we are very different people. I wasn’t the daughter she needed and she didn’t understand what I needed—especially that night I got arrested—but...but my childhood is over. I need to find a new “normal” with them.’

  Seb folded his arms and placed them on the table. He linked his fingers in hers and stared down at their hands. ‘I never understood why you ran. You were always a fighter. You always came out of the corner ready to fight.’

  Rowan nibbled her lip. ‘I got knocked down one too many times, resulting in emotional concussion.’

  ‘That’s a new one... Who knocked you down?’

  ‘My parents—my mum especially. Peter, Joe Clark...’

  ‘Your dipstick ex? What did he do...exactly? Apart from frame you?’

  ‘When did you realise he had?’

  ‘I think I’ve probably always known. What else did he do?’

  Rowan blew out her breath and held his eye. It was time she told him—time she told someone the whole truth of that evening.

  ‘I fell in love with him. He was kind and sweet and said all the right things to get me into bed. I kept him waiting because...you know...he was my first, and I wanted to make sure he was the right one. Someone who really loved me and not someone who was using me... Ha-ha, what a joke!’

  Seb’s face hardened. ‘So he took your virginity...?’

  ‘Yeah, we made love three hours before we got to the club. The policeman knew the drugs weren’t mine—he even admitted it to me—but they were on me and he had to arrest me. Joe told me while he was laughing at me for getting arrested that he’d just wanted to bag and bed “the virgin rebel”. That’s what he called me.’

  Seb swore, low and slow. ‘I swear I’m going to rearrange his face.’

  ‘I’m over it—over him. I really am.’ Rowan managed a small smile. ‘But it wasn’t the best night of my life. I was reeling. I’d had my heart kicked around by the boy who had just taken me to bed—the whole experience of which, sadly, was not nearly as brilliant as I thought it would be—’

  ‘Bad?’

  Trust a man to get distracted by sex, Rowan thought as she rocked her hand in the air. ‘Meh...’

  ‘Meh?’

  ‘Not good, not bad—and I am not discussing my first sexual experience with you, Hollis. Jeez! Do you want to hear this or not?’

  ‘Keep your panties on... So you went off to jail...’

  ‘I had been there for a day or so and I was so scared, terrified. Another young girl had been arrested for something—I can’t remember what. Her mother came to the jail, and when they wouldn’t release this girl her mother came into the cell with her and just held her until she could be released. I wanted that like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.’

  Rowan swallowed and took a deep slug of her wine.

  ‘I just wanted my mother to love me, to support me, to hold me while I sat in that corner. And I knew that she wouldn’t. Ever. That hurt more than anything else. So when I got home I thought I would test my theory; how far could I push her until I got a reaction out of her? I never got much of one. My dad screamed and raged and tried to lay down the law but my mum switched off. Until the day I wrote my finals. I came home and she and I had a...discussion.’

  ‘About...?’

  Okay, so this was something that she’d never told anybody. Not even Callie. ‘My life, my plans. I told her I wanted to go overseas and she immediately agreed. Said it was the first sensible sentence I’d uttered all year.’

  ‘What the...?’

  ‘She said that it would be good for all of us—mainly her, I think—that I went. I heard the subtext in her speech; she’d had enough of me and her life would be that much easier if I were out of her face. So I packed my stuff, took the money she offered—she was the one who cashed in those unit trusts of my grandmother’s—and caught the first plane I could.’

  ‘God, Ro...’

  Seb ran his hand over his face and felt sick. They’d all known that Ro and her mum bumped heads, known that Peter was her obvious favourite, but they’d never believed—not for a second—that their relationship had been that broken. Okay, his mother wasn’t a saint, and she’d left and it sucked, but she hadn’t constantly been there, physically present but emotionally unavailable.

  Rowan’s staying away from Cape Town made a lot more sense now.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he muttered, knowing his words were inadequate and stupid after so much time.

  But he didn’t know what else to say—how to convey how angry and...sad he felt. Because, unlike him, Rowan had needed to be nurtured and shown affection, to be bolstered and boosted. She’d needed affection and love and affirmation.

  Bile roiled in his stomach as the waitress placed their burgers in front of them. ‘I should take you home...let me take you home.’

  Then
he felt Rowan’s hand cover his, her touch comforting him when he should be comforting her.

  ‘Your mind is going into overdrive, Seb. I’m fine now and I’ve learnt to live with it. I’m way over Joe Clark and him screwing me—figuratively and literally. As for my mum...she is what she is. I’ve grown up...’

  ‘But you’d still like a relationship with her?’

  ‘I’d love a relationship with her. So I’ll see her, say my sorrys if that’s what she needs to hear, and try again.’

  He turned and stared down into her face. Oh, dear God, he could fall for her; tumble for this brave, beautiful woman with midnight in her eyes.

  Seb shook his head, trying to replace emotion with rational thought. He was just feeling sorry for her, feeling guilty because he hadn’t pushed hard enough, dug deep enough to find out the truth about her before this. He’d always known that there was more to Rowan’s story, more to Rowan.

  Besides she was leaving...soon. And he had no intention of letting anyone else leave with his heart again.

  Mothers...jeez. The million and two ways they could screw you up.

  Rowan popped a chip in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. ‘I really want to go to that antiques market, Seb.’

  Seb picked up his knife and fork, looked at his food, and put them down again. He really didn’t feel like eating.

  ‘What?’ he asked, his mind still reeling. He digested her words, understood them and frowned. ‘Are you playing me?’ he demanded, innately suspicious of her cajoling face. ‘Are you making me feel sorry for you to get what you want?’

  Rowan chuckled. ‘It’s what we woman do. You’re smart enough not to fall for it.’

  ‘Brat.’

  ‘Let me try something else.’ Rowan batted her eyelashes at him. ‘If you take me I’ll let you charm me out of that dress.’

  Seb looked her up and down and slowly grinned. ‘I’m going to charm you out of that dress anyway, so no deal.’

  Rowan twisted her lips to hide her grin. ‘I can resist you, you know.’

  Laughter chased the shadows out of Seb’s eyes. ‘No, you can’t. I can’t resist you either. Eat—you’re going to need the energy.’

  ‘Is that a threat?’ Rowan asked silkily.

  Seb picked up her hand, turned it over and placed an open-mouthed kiss into the palm of her hand. Rowan shuddered and lust ran up and down her spine when he touched the tip of his tongue to her palm.

  ‘Absolutely it’s a threat,’ Seb said, before attacking his burger.

  * * *

  Seb cast another look at Rowan as they walked down the steps to his car, parked by the front door earlier, and thought about walking into that cocktail party with her hand in his. Her dress would be enough to have the older men choking on their drinks, their wives raising an over-plucked eyebrow and any man below sixty sending approving looks at her stunning legs, from thigh to the two-inch silver heels she had absolutely no problem rocking.

  She was gorgeous, with her wild hair pulled back into a casual roll, minimal make-up and a coral lipstick that perfectly matched the red of her dress. She looked fresh and sexy and he was already anticipating the end of the evening, when he could strip it off her as he’d promised. Which was insane, since they’d made love just over an hour ago and again this morning. And twice last night after they’d got back from visiting that antiques market, where Rowan had tried to persuade him to buy a silver cigarette case he didn’t like and certainly didn’t need.

  ‘It’s old and it’s valuable. You could double your money,’ he remembered her insisting.

  ‘It might be old but it’s ugly,’ he’d replied, not telling her that he earned more money in fifteen minutes than he’d make on the hideous case.

  He’d offended Rowan’s horse-trader instincts for about a minute—until another pretty object had caught her attention and their brief argument had been totally forgotten as she’d engaged stallholder after stallholder in conversation.

  It had taken them for ever to visit every stall—which she’d had to do. She was so charming, easily drawing people into conversation and melting the sternest or shyest heart there. She had a natural warmth that just pulled people to her, he thought as he drove down the driveway.

  ‘You look...God...amazing, Ro,’ he said, turning left into the road.

  ‘Thanks. You don’t look too shabby yourself. I like that suit.’

  Rowan placed her hand on his thigh and he could feel her warmth through the fabric of his black suit. He’d teamed it with a white shirt—no-brainer—but Rowan had swapped the tie he’d chosen—black—for a deep blue one he’d never worn in his life which, according to his sexy date, deepened the blue in his eyes.

  He’d liked her choosing his tie... Seb sighed and reminded himself yet again to get a grip, catch a clue.

  She. Was. Leaving.

  As in bye-bye, birdy.

  Next week.

  And he was getting goofy because she was picking out his ties.

  Get over yourself, already, Hollis.

  Rowan’s fingers dug into his thigh. ‘Seb, stop!’

  He slammed on the brakes. ‘What? Jeez!’ He looked past Rowan, down her parents’ driveway, and saw Heidi and Stan standing in the driveway, pulling bags out of their sedate sedan.

  ‘Oh, crap. Your parents are back.’

  ‘Looks like it.’ Rowan bit her lip and lifted her hand as her parents swivelled around to see who was idling at the bottom of their driveway. She turned and looked at Seb, her heart in her eyes. ‘It would be so much easier if you just drove on.’

  Seb touched her cheek with his thumb. ‘I’m right behind you, babe.’

  ‘Well, at least I’m looking my best,’ Rowan quipped in a small voice as he turned off the engine.

  ‘You look fantastic,’ Seb said as he left the car, walked around and opened the passenger door for Rowan.

  Heidi and Stan walked down the driveway to greet them.

  ‘Seb, hello!’ Heidi called as Seb took Rowan’s icy hand in his. ‘We’re back—as you can see.’

  ‘Stan...Heidi.’ He placed his hand on Rowan’s back and pushed her forward. ‘So is Rowan.’

  ‘Mum...hi, Dad.’ Rowan stepped closer, reached up and brushed her father’s cheek with her lips, leaned in for a small hug and then turned to her mum. Seb clenched his fist when Heidi pulled back and Rowan’s lips brushed the air about two inches from her cheek. She couldn’t even kiss her, hold her, after nine years apart?

  What the...?

  Who was this woman? Had he ever really known her? Had he been so blinded by the fact that she was there every day that he thought she was marvellous for that alone? No, he’d seen her interact with Peter—loving, kind, affectionate.

  His heart clenched for Rowan as she stood back and straightened her shoulders. ‘You’re both looking well.’

  ‘How long have you been home?’ Her father took her hand, held it tight. ‘It’s so good to see you. You look beautiful—so grown-up.’

  Rowan smiled. ‘Seb and I are going to a party. I arrived about two weeks ago...I needed to come home unexpectedly. Seb’s been helping me out.’

  Heidi lifted her eyebrows and pursed her lips at Seb’s hand, resting on her hip. ‘Seems like he’s been doing more than helping you out. Strange, since you could never stand each other before.’

  Seb started to speak, but Rowan gripped the hand on her hip and he got the message. Shut up, dude.

  ‘I’ve grown up, Mum.’

  Heidi looked her up and down. ‘Your skirts certainly haven’t.’

  ‘Mum! Nine years away and all you can do is gripe about my clothes?’ Rowan snapped.

  ‘Well, I think you look gorgeous, Ro.’ Stan jumped into the conversational bloodbath. ‘Absolutely terrific.’

  ‘Wel
l...’ Heidi folded her arms. ‘I’m tired, and you two are going to be late for wherever you are going. Maybe you should be on your way.’

  ‘Heidi!’ Stan protested, and Seb’s temper simmered.

  ‘We’ll see her again,’ Heidi said. ‘Tomorrow. Maybe.’

  Stan sent Rowan an apologetic look and Rowan stepped into his arms and gave him a longer hug. A hug Seb was pleased to see that he returned. He kissed her head before they stepped apart. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Ro. It’s good to have you back, darling.’

  Rowan nodded and held onto Seb’s hand with a death grip. ‘See you then, Dad. And it’s good to be back. Night, Mum.’

  ‘Goodnight, Rowan. Sebastian.’

  Seb pulled Rowan back to the car and opened the passenger door for her, helped her in. When he was back in his seat he placed his hand on the back of her neck. ‘You okay, Ro?’

  ‘Sure.’ Rowan shrugged, her eyes on her parents, who were walking into their house. ‘Situation normal. My mum cool and uninterested; my dad the buffer between the two of us.’

  ‘She called me Sebastian. She’s never called me that.’

  Rowan managed a smile. ‘It’s because you’re sleeping with me. She thinks you can do better.’

  ‘Then she’s an idiot.’ Seb dropped his hand and started the engine. ‘I need a drink. A couple of them.’

  ‘Me too. Lead me into temptation, Sebastian.’

  ‘Buzz off, Brat,’ Seb shot back, but he kept his hand on her knee the whole way up the coast to the cocktail party.

  * * *

  In Seb’s bedroom, much later that evening, Rowan slipped off her dangly silver earrings and dropped them onto Seb’s credenza, next to his wallet and keys. ‘Jeez, who would’ve thought I would run into Joe this evening at the cocktail party? I mean, heck, this is a big city. What were the chances?’

  ‘Fairly good, I’d say, since he’s reputed to be one of the most up-and-coming young businessmen in the city and it was a Chamber of Commerce function.’

  ‘Up and coming dipstick, more like it,’ Rowan muttered. ‘Thanks, by the way.’