Losing Grace (Falling Away #2)
Page 2
Disappointment seeps through me, betraying my current stance on independence. “Thanks, Riley. Will do.”
“And enjoy your girls’ night,” he imparts with an unfathomable smile, exiting Swimmer into the rear lane.
***
Waiting for Gemma in the foyer of the Palace Cinema, she appears soon after, cruising through the doors. This girl is beautiful. Inside and out beautiful. Gemma worked at Café Blue with Riley up the coast before she moved to Sydney. Once she’d relocated, she rented an apartment in Freshwater and took a job as a waitress in Bookish and Bean, a café lined floor to ceiling with second-hand books. It was quiet and relaxing, which was just what she’d needed. With the serenity of a tranquil library and filled with the biting aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, Gem deserved every ounce of happiness beamed her way. Gem had survived leukaemia only one short year ago, and it was her optimistic take on life, initially battered, which finally pulled her through.
“Hello, beautiful,” she says, drawing me into a warm hug. “I have a small confession to make.”
Before she finishes, Riley shoves his way through the cinema doors from the angry buzz of the street outside. He’s dressed like a relaxed rock star, jeans hanging low on his hips. The black weathered t-shirt pulled taut across his chest shows just the hint of a black-winged tattoo sneaking around his bicep.
“What are you doing here, Riley?” I give Gemma a surreptitious glare, along with a louder-than-intended whisper. “Wasn’t this supposed to be a girls’ night? I’m positive I heard you say that this morning.”
“I know, I know. But Riley called after meeting you today so I invited him along.”
“And that’s exactly how it happened, Grace,” Riley adds, leaning over to kiss me casually on the cheek for the second time that day. And there it was again: that woodsy, fresh scent. I haul a lungful of the heady spice into my nostrils. I’d always been a sucker for patchouli.
“Of course I don’t mind. It’s lovely to see you again.” I’m used to playing a game of artifice. I did it religiously for nearly two years straight with my very own husband, so I can handle one night with this guy. Easily.
“Let me buy your ticket to thank you for all your hard work over the past month.” He flashes me his smile.
“That’s really not necessary. I’ll buy my own.”
The smile fades as he chokes on my refusal, as though never turned down. Having independently paid, we climb the stairs to the capacious upper level cinema where an art deco interior greets us. We settle ourselves comfortably into the velveteen seats.
Dark Devil Hunting is gory. Gemma sits on one side, and Riley sits way too close on the other. His presence is distracting. Unnerving. I’d been dying to see the latest in the Dark series and this just happened to be the final movie.
Gemma hides her face, whimpering softly. She hasn’t enjoyed a single moment of this movie and guilt settles over me. Anything to avoid some schmaltzy, sappy love story.
The movie finishes and she’s onto her feet, grabbing her bag and heading for the aisle. In no time she’s exited the cinema and is quickly out of view.
Riley beams his irresistible smile. “Wow, Grace! Who’d have thought a girl like you would be into a movie like that? That was awesome.”
“I’m not a flowers and chocolates kind of girl, Riley. Love stories do nothing for me. Give me gore and violence any day.”
He raises one eyebrow, emphasizing his astonishment. “Surprising. Come on, let’s go. Gemma’s probably throwing up in the toilets.”
I giggle at the ridiculous thought. Her constitution couldn’t be that weak, surely.
Riley follows me into the foyer. Gemma is seated in foetal position at the top of the richly carpeted stairs, arms wrapped tightly around her bare knees.
“Are you okay, Gem? You look a little peakish.” Riley playfully ruffles her hair and she swipes his hand away.
“Grace, you are never, ever, picking a movie again. That was appalling.”
“Riley and I loved it.”
Riley nods, his face bemused. “It was just a movie, Gem. Full of amazing special effects. You have to admit, they were pretty bloody spectacular.”
“Bloody. Exactly. That’s exactly what they were.” She looks up, her face the colour of alabaster. “There’s something seriously wrong with both of you. Next time you want to see a movie like that, leave me right out of it. I will happily stay home.”
“Great idea.” Riley shifts closer. He places a large, warm hand on my lower back, the contact shooting tingles up my spine. “I would love to see another movie sometime, Grace. Especially one like that. All you have to do is say the word.”
Swiftly overcome with a pressing need to leave, I edge away from his touch. He looks hurt, wounded with rejection. Even with the punitive image of his expression, I can’t drop my shield, the safety net between me and my heart. I could never endure the same destructive routine, it was easier to retreat. I’d sworn off men and relationships. All of them.
And Riley Atherton, despite his dangerously good looks and skin-tingly contact, was not going to change that.
***
“Gemma Washington! I am going to kill you for last night! What was that about?”
Gemma looks up sheepishly from the sofa, thoroughly ensconced with a pile of glossy magazines and a freshly brewed coffee. “I’m sorry, Grace. Please don’t be mad. He was singing your praises, remarking on what a wonderful asset you’d become at Blue Swimmer, then casually mentioned the movies.”
“So, did you really have to invite him? Honestly Gemma, what were you thinking?”
“What I’d like to know Miss Grace, is why it’s such a big deal? It was just a movie. Did it really matter that Riley came?”
Her niggly comment strikes a chord. “It’s not a big deal. No biggie at all. I just thought we were having a girls’ night.”
“Really? Is that all it is?” she teases. “Perhaps you might actually like him. Like, like him?”
“Oh, absolutely not, Gemma. How can you even suggest it? You know I’m still recovering from my marriage fiasco with Daniel.”
“Speaking of Douchebag Dan, have you heard from him? Has he tracked you down yet? That guy is truly a menace.” Her face curls up in distaste.
“No, thank God. And don’t you think I would’ve told you? Since I threw away my sim card and replaced it with a new one I haven’t heard a thing. As far as I know, he still has no idea where I am. New job. New apartment. New life. And that’s the way it’s going to stay.”
“Well, Douchebag won’t give up, so stay alert. He won’t appreciate his wife up and leaving him, so keep your eyes open.”
“I will, Gem.”
“Don’t worry, honey. You’ve got me to protect you.”
I snigger at the suggestion of Gemma as my bodyguard.
“I’m serious, Grace. If that guy comes within a fifty-kilometre radius I’ll kneecap him to begin with, and after that I can’t be held responsible for whatever else I might do.”
The proposition of Gemma inflicting violence on anyone, especially Dan, makes me giggle. They were close before we were married. And then afterwards, when things started to sour, she’d stick up for him. She’d tell me I was imagining things, or that I was trying to be too independent. But slowly it became evident that Dan had changed, and not for the better.
She looks at me kindly. “I’m going up the coast this weekend to visit some friends, Jack and Sam. You’d really like them. Why don’t you come? You’ll have fun and it’ll take your mind off everything.”
“Gem, I’m feeling anti-social at the moment. I can throw on the airs and graces for work, but a whole weekend with people I don’t know? I’m not so sure …”
“Come with me, Grace. It’s been three months now. The first two you spent holed up in here crying. Your mood has improved since starting at Swimmer but you’re still pretty quiet. You’re almost back to the old Grace I know and love, though. A weekend away is exactly what y
ou need.” She pulls me onto the sofa and wraps her arms tightly around me. “Please come? Please? I’m positive you’ll enjoy yourself.”
I huff out an acquiescence. “Oh, all right. You are way too persistent Gemma Washington, but I love you too.”
3
Riley
“Riley!” Dad yells. “Don’t you dare leave this house without finishing this conversation! This isn’t over.”
An incendiary fury explodes inside, hands bunching into fists at my sides. “I am not doing this, Dad. Not now. Not ever.”
“Atherton Inc. needs you, Riley. You will work with us. You will take over one day. Haven’t I done enough for you? Haven’t I always given you whatever you’ve asked for?”
Ragged breathing teases at my chest. “It’s not about the money, Dad. It’s never been about the money.”
“You’re kidding me, right? It’s not about the money?” He shoves me hard on my chest, both hands. I reel back losing balance, but the first blow I always ignore.
“You gave me a leg up, I’ll admit that, but I paid you back. Every last cent. So no, don’t you dare say I’m all about the fucking money,” I cough, regaining my stability.
Dad snickers, jabbing at my chest with his index finger this time, eyes cold, fuelled by anger. “Everything you are, everything you have, is thanks to me.” Another jab, eyes narrowed. “Twenty-sixth birthday, Riley. Twenty-six. That’s all I’m going to say. Otherwise…” he pauses, raising one cautioning eyebrow.
My shoulders square up. “More threats? I don’t need your fraudulent business practices or all you stand for. That will not be me.”
“We’ll see, Riley. We’ll see.” He straightens his tie, tucking the starched white shirt neatly into black suit pants. He holds his pride firmly in place, no remorse evident.
I turn for the door and he grabs me, fisting the back of my shirt. I whip around, sucking adrenaline into my lungs as he loses his grip. “Keep your hands off me.”
“You know what’s at stake.”
“And I’ve told you, I don’t give a damn,” I call over my shoulder, reaching for the door.
“Monday morning, Riley. Ten o’clock. You be there.”
The icy winter air tears painfully at my lungs, his footsteps gaining on me.
“And don’t disappoint your mother,” he growls at my back.
And that I do care about.
Sydney winter is cold, bleak with the wind from the grey, pockmarked sea. The front door makes a resounding crack, slamming against the doorjamb. Melancholic clouds hang from above, spitting raindrops over the landscape. The car roars to life, the erratic drumming through my chest gradually abating with the drive.
The M1 Freeway is fast. No crowded traffic clogs the artery leading north. I crave the tranquillity of the Bay, because for right now, it’s my only sanity.
Just drive, Riley. It’s not that hard.
An hour and a half later, Shoal Bay is haven-like. Heaven. The sweep and stretch of the lighthouse arcing low across the water. The lap of nightly tides on the sandy shores nearby. At twenty-one, I’d resolved to make this life my own and I’d chosen this place. Desperate to be free of the pressure borne down by expectations I’d join the family business, I’d mistakenly accepted Dad’s help. I wasn’t so strong or so resolute, perhaps needing him in some childlike, dependent way, never realising there would be strings so tightly attached. But this place? It’s mine. I’ve not only paid back its dollar value, but paid for it in guilt and culpability, too.
I swing into the basement carpark under the Vermuda Resort and flick off the engine. Grabbing my duffle from the boot, I head for the lift, punching in ‘P’ for penthouse. The lift doors glide open to reveal a glitzy, mirrored interior, and when I reach my apartment I drink in the view. Tomaree Headland sits to the south, jamming its rocky tip into the sky like it owns heaven.
I drag open the fridge, rifling contents around to retrieve a Crown. Snagging off the top, I gargle down an extended swig and head for the balcony. The sky spits rain and the bay turns a darker, steely grey. Interrupting the solitude, my phone buzzes loudly from the kitchen. Retreating indoors and away from the drizzle, I check the silent screen.
Gemma: Catching up with Sam tonight. You want to come too?
Me: Don’t think so. Things on my mind.
Gemma: So when’s that stopped you? Don’t be a flake. You need a night out.
Realising perhaps an evening with friends is exactly what I need, I silently curse her perseverance.
Me: Yeah ok then.
Gemma: Great! See you at 7.
Appraising my appearance, the black jeans and old t-shirt I threw on yesterday morning still cling lifelessly to my body. Heading to the bedroom, I drag the t-shirt forcefully over my head and pull on a fresh one.
The phone buzzes again.
Dad: You cooled off yet?
I ignore him.
Dad: I asked if you’d cooled off yet?
I ignore him again, deciding he wouldn’t appreciate my response anyway.
***
An hour later the car slows to a crawl, winding below the sweep of the Singing Bridge. Asinine name; apparently when the wind blows it hums like a bird. Gemma’s car is parked in the drive and welcome lights twinkle seductively from the veranda. Smoke pours from the chimney, trailing like filaments of wispy airbrushed cotton into the sky.
Sam’s and Jack’s place. A cosy little weatherboard perched right on the meandering river, tucked behind swaying grass reeds. For a while I wasn’t exactly Jack’s favourite guy having made a play for his girlfriend, but that was over a year ago now and things are surprisingly okay. We’d even call each other mates, although it took a while. For a time, I believed he’d never lose the disdain.
I push from the car, thudding it closed behind me. The front door opens and Sam’s standing there like an angel. Watching Jack save Sam from nearly losing her life in the sea over a year ago had been healing. Restorative. And I’d realised in one edified moment that real love does exist. Whole and pure. Love that bonds two people not only to each other but to the beat of the earth and the warmth of the sun is a love worth holding onto. So, I’d patched up my wayward tendencies and tried to move forward better, stronger. More worthy.
She hugs me with a smile as wide as I’ve seen. “Riley! I’m so glad you could make it. It’s been ages.”
I laugh into her hair. “You know me, Sam. Turning up when you least expect it.”
“Come in by the fire. Gemma’s already here and she brought her friend Grace.”
Thrusting a bottle of red wine into her hands I follow her inside, away from the rain-drenched river.
“You made it,” Gemma says, smiling strangely. “Earlier than expected, hey?” She glances behind her. “Grace came for the weekend, too.”
Behind Gemma, Grace sits on a pale grey lounge, rising at the mention of her name. “Riley,” she says, far from impressed. She smiles a distant greeting without letting her guard down.
Unperturbed, I lean over and kiss her cheek, allowing her presence to absorb me. “Grace, what a lovely surprise. I had no idea you’d be here.”
“Really?” she questions, lengthening her hair with her fingertips. “You seem to be turning up everywhere.” She fixes her unruffled gaze upon me with blue eyes that entrance. Captivate. Eyes that inspire me to discover what lies beneath that cool exterior.
“Pure luck and good fortune. For me, of course.”
“Beer, mate?” asks Jack, appearing from the kitchen, interrupting the moment. He hands over some boutique thing in a bottle I’ve never laid eyes on before.
“Thanks, mate. Good to see you.” I palm off the lid and take a swig, settling myself onto the lounge near Grace. We sit around a rustic coffee table and she shifts along a little, maintaining her distance.
We’re no sooner settled when Gemma drags Grace from the lounge, retreating to the privacy of the kitchen. They begin a lowered conversation, the words too muffled to be distinct.
“Other than stirring up trouble wherever I go?”
Jack laughs over the top of his beer, tipping his head back to drink. “So, Grace works at Swimmer, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s been there a month.” Dropping the volume in my voice, I check the girls aren’t in earshot. “Turns out she’s quite a catch.”
“You mean as an employee?” Jack lowers his voice to a whisper too. “You’re not hitting on her at work, are you? That’s not cool, man.”
“Come on, Jack. Don’t you know I’m beyond that?”
“I doubt you’d ever be beyond that. Just don’t take things too far. From what I hear, Grace needs time out.”
“Time out? What do you mean?”
“Just something I overheard. It might be nothing, but it sounded a hell of a lot like Grace was running from something. Or someone.”
“Who do you reckon it is?”
“I don’t know man, but Gem’s protective of her, and you never really know what someone hides in their past.”
“Yeah, man. She definitely holds me at arm’s length.”
Jack chuckles. “You mean she’s not falling at your feet, swooning, saying ‘take me now’?
“No, not exactly,” I huff out.
“Guess you’re not used to that, huh?” Jack laughs. “Serves you bloody well right.”
At this point the girls emerge. Grace makes her way over, stops right beside me and hands me a glass of red wine.
“Thanks, Grace. You look stunning this evening, by the way,” I say stupidly, grabbing for a stuffed bell pepper.
“In leggings and an over-sized track top?” She glances over her outfit, raising a curious brow.
And then it strikes me. My sudden attraction to Grace goes deeper than superficial. She could be wearing a brown paper bag or an old hessian sack and it wouldn’t matter. One look from those unfathomable blue eyes and I’d willingly be hers, if she’d have me.