by Janette Paul
‘Sure.’ He stepped in beside her.
‘Perhaps a bit closer,’ the photographer suggested.
Ethan slid his arm around her waist and pulled her gently into him. ‘How’s that?’
Nice. Very, very nice, Dee thought. Her skin hummed where his arm rested across her back and his warm palm pressed softly to her hip made her legs go all wobbly. Fortunately, she was small enough to fit snugly under his arm and she leaned into him to keep herself upright. At least that was what she’d say if anyone asked. She looked up at him, inhaled an exotic aroma of aftershave and dinner jacket and musky male and understood why Roxburgh Girls were always photographed pressing themselves against him.
‘One more, if you don’t mind, Mr Roxburgh.’
Dee smiled again, hoping she didn’t look as dazed as she felt, and had a chuckle to herself. If this photo made it into the newspaper, her mother would have kittens. Dee the latest Roxburgh Girl. She’d think her wayward daughter was finally doing some social climbing. Did that count as getting her shit together?
After the photographer moved on, Ethan placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led her once again through the well-dressed throng.
So this was what it was like to be a Roxburgh Girl. People smiled at you, made way for Ethan and his partner, gazed in wonder. The newspapers came up with the tag four years ago when Ethan divorced his wife and became the new bachelor of the moment. Considering the basic qualifications – beautiful, well-dressed, sophisticated and on the end of his arm – and the fact that she’d only achieved the arm clutch bit, Dee wasn’t about to hold her breath waiting for a membership card. But it was fun to pretend for a few minutes, especially when it involved nestling into his nicely toned torso as they squeezed through the crowd.
Lucy was at the table when they finally arrived, along with her husband, John, Leonard and his wife, Lucy’s Creative Director Adam Velor and several others.
‘Dee, you look fabulous.’ Lucy brushed her cheek with an air kiss. ‘Have you dazzled everyone yet?’
‘Well, I’ve met a lot of people.’
‘And there’ll be more of that after dinner. So have another glass of bubbly and enjoy.’
Another glass of bubbly. She’d already had two. Or was it three? She couldn’t remember but the fuzzy in her head told her it was enough. Lucy handed her a glass, clinked it with her own. ‘Drink up. It’s gonna be a long night.’
Dee sipped, then waited for her eyes to focus before taking a seat between Leonard and a man whose tan was an odd shade of orange. Across the table, she saw Ethan kiss the cheek of the most elegant woman in the room. She had daringly short hair, doe eyes and a long, slender body that looked like it had stepped out of Vogue. My exact opposite, Dee thought, forgetting to just sip the champagne.
She looked as Ethan admired his dinner partner. There was no bemusement – just confident appreciation. That was the thing with men like Ethan Roxburgh. There was no need to settle for anything less than perfection when perfection was at your fingertips.
‘Have you seen much of Asia?’ Leonard asked her.
She pulled her eyes away from Ethan. Yes, a subject she knew something about. ‘I’ve travelled through most of it, although mainly India in the last few years.’
‘We’re investigating expanding our business there. I’m leaving next week on a fact-finding mission to Bangkok, Beijing and Kuala Lumpur.’
Maybe not her kind of topic. ‘That sounds interesting.’
‘What did you think of the Sheraton over there? I’m told it’s excellent.’
In her backpacker clothes, they wouldn’t have let her in the door. ‘I’ve never stayed there.’
‘Top rate,’ the tanned man on the other side chipped in. ‘I was in KL three weeks ago and I was very impressed.’
‘Was it business or pleasure?’ Leonard asked.
Dee glanced back and forth between the two men trying to appear interested, which was getting more and more difficult after all the champagne. A little sleep was what she felt like. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if she dozed off for a second.
‘What do you think, Dee?’
‘Huh?’
‘Do you follow the cricket?’ Leonard asked.
‘Ah, no, sorry.’
‘Doesn’t matter who’s winning, we always manage to do a little business in our private box.’ Both men laughed heartily at that hilarious joke.
Entrée, dinner and dessert were punctuated with an array of subjects Dee knew nothing about. If it wasn’t Leonard and the tanned guy, it was a round-table discussion that left Dee feeling like a dunce. On a couple of occasions, she laughed along in merry unison with no idea what was supposed to be so riotous. Even with a bucket-load of champagne, a tad too much Chardonnay and a glass of Pinot she ‘just had to experience’, it didn’t seem funny at all. The dropsy feeling in her head wasn’t too funny either. Or the lecherous looks from the tanned guy. Oops, her glass of water splashing across the table wasn’t very funny, either, even though she giggled recklessly. She needed more water, she thought, as she took another sip of the Pinot.
The band was playing again. Dance tunes this time. Loud, rocky, lots of drumming. At least it killed the unfunny conversation. Oh, yay. They’re playing Madonna. Dee hadn’t heard this song for years. She’d danced around the lounge room with Amanda to this. She knew all the actions back then. Hey, look at that. She still knew all the actions.
‘How about a dance?’ Tanned Guy asked.
‘You’ve just gotta dance to Madonna, don’t you?’ Dee bounced out of her chair and followed Tanned Guy to the floor.
She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed a good ole bop. She hadn’t done it in ages. There’s no time for that sort of thing when you’re a busy yoga teacher. Not when you get up at 5 a.m., work till 8 p.m. No energy. But tonight she had heaps. It was amazing.
Back at the table, she finished off the Pinot then drank a large glass of water while Tanned Guy refilled her wine. Ethan slid into the seat beside her.
‘How’re you doing?’ He smiled at her with a small crease of – what? – concern on his brow.
‘Great. Isn’t the music a blast?’
He laughed, then put a hand over hers, his face earnest. ‘Just to let you know, Brad there is a bit of a ladies’ man.’ He nodded at Tanned Guy. ‘Might be best to watch yourself with him. Unless you’re looking for a lift home.’
With her back to Brad, she hooked her thumb in his direction and pulled a grimace. He nodded and her mouth formed an awed ‘Oh’. Imagine that. A professional-type guy making a pass at her without mentioning flexibility. It was the parallel world. Then she made a face. Even in another dimension she wouldn’t go home with him.
‘Another dance?’ Brad leaned over her shoulder, a clammy hand on her bare shoulder.
Ohmigod. Was that an ABBA song? She loved ABBA. ‘Yeah!’
Out in front of the band she forgot about Brad. The music was so loud it felt like it was being amplified through her body. She let the sound waves guide her across the floor, floating, bobbing, weaving to the beat. Another song. More ABBA. Then something else she couldn’t remember the words to.
She felt strong arms circle her waist and her eyes flew open as Ethan eased in against her.
He smiled bemusement. She smiled in confusion. Having him this close was, well, lovely but even in her drunken state, the close-quarters seemed a little inappropriate, especially with the gorgeous Roxburgh Girl somewhere nearby.
‘Your dress is stunning. Did Lucy lend it to you?’ He spoke in her ear so she could hear over the band.
She tried to lean away but he tightened his hold. Was Ethan Roxburgh a sleaze too? ‘Gina, actually.’
‘I guess she didn’t think to give you any of that tape.’
‘Huh?’
‘I hear they use double-sided sticky tape to keep dresses from moving around.’
Ethan looked in her face then led her eyes down to the place their bodies met at his chest. Dee gasped and h
ugged herself hard against him. While she’d been enjoying the moment, the plunging valley of her neckline had claimed some extra territory, revealing most of the ample curve of her breasts. Thankfully, her nipples were still undercover – well, one of them – but exposed for all to see were two handfuls of soft, pink breast.
He spoke in her ear. ‘I didn’t think it was by design. You don’t seem the type. Although, by the look of him, Brad was certainly hoping it was.’
She groaned. ‘Is he still there?’
‘Not after I told him to shove off.’
Dee put a hand over her eyes in embarrassment. ‘Maybe I could kind of straighten things up a bit while we’re … oh.’ Her words were cut off by the flash of a camera. Ethan Roxburgh in a body wrestle on the dance floor was probably big news.
‘It might look a bit seedy caught on camera,’ Ethan said. ‘We could dance over to the stage. There’s a partition there you could duck behind and fix yourself up. What do you think?’
‘Sure.’ Dee thought it’d be much better if she disappeared in a hot blaze of spontaneous combustion. ‘I’m glad you wore a shining armour under your suit tonight.’
‘It gets a little hot but you never know when it’ll come in handy.’
Dee’s arms were around Ethan’s neck as he steered her across the floor, her wayward breasts hidden by his broad chest and the swing of his jacket. She could feel one small, rounded button on his dress shirt pressing insistently on the delicate edge of her nipple. It’d been a long time and she let out a slow breath, closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of him, tripping on her hem again.
‘Looks like you forgot your ballroom dancing lessons, though,’ Ethan said.
He dropped his hand into the small of her back, holding her close as he turned her to bypass other partiers. The sensation was spectacular. No wonder there was a war being waged by Roxburgh Girls. But who cared about a photo? She had him all to herself under a mirror ball. If only the polished square of dancing space was a couple of football fields longer, she thought as they stopped at the partition screening the band’s electrical equipment. While Ethan stood sentry, Dee slipped behind, adjusted her dress, took a moment to reel in embarrassment amongst the power cords, and stepped back around.
Ethan held out his dinner jacket. ‘I thought you might like this.’ He slipped it around her shoulders, wrapping her in his scent. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ He took her elbow and led her out of the ballroom by a side entrance.
In the hallway, Dee turned in the direction he was pointing, caught the hem of her over-long dress on the toe of one skyscraper shoe and belly-flopped on the carpet.
Chapter Nine
Arms outstretched, flat on the floor, Dee felt like a sequined yoga mat. Why couldn’t she have knocked herself out? It would be far less humiliating if she was unconscious.
Ethan dropped to her side. ‘Dee, are you okay?’
The carpet smelled like dirty feet and old beer, and who knew where her boobs were now. She sat up slowly, pulling Ethan’s jacket around her, rubbing at the carpet burns on her hands. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ she lied. Her ego hurt. Then, just to cap it off, her chin began to quiver and tears welled. Great, not just falling-down-drunk but weepy-drunk, too. She blinked hard as he helped her to her feet.
She took off his jacket. ‘I think I’ve done enough tricks for one night. Probably best if I went home now.’
He wrapped it back around her shoulders. ‘Why don’t you wait a while, Dee? Have some coffee. Have a handkerchief.’ He pulled one from his trouser pocket. She took it and wiped at her eyes. ‘Come on,’ he said.
Too inebriated to protest, she let him lead her by the hand around the corner to a cosy group of chairs nestled into an elbow of hallway. A waiter appeared with a tray of coffee.
‘Milk and sugar?’ Ethan asked. She nodded, wondering when he’d organised sobering-up refreshments. He poured, stirred, handed her a cup and saucer. ‘Drink.’
It was hot and strong enough to clear the alcoholic fuzz in her head. Not completely but enough to dissolve the buffer around her embarrassment, which now flashed in her brain like a neon light. She dropped the fine china onto the table with a clatter.
‘I’m such an idiot for thinking I could blend in with all these fancy advertising, socialite-y, executive-type people. I’m bloody hopeless at these things. I should’ve known a fancy dress and tripwire shoes don’t change anything.’
He waved a hand. ‘Don’t worry about it. Drinking too much is standard procedure at these things and I guarantee at least fifty per cent of the people here are trying to blend in. It’s wannabe heaven.’
‘At least they wanna be. I have no desire to be at these things. And I feel like a traitor to my own social ethics in this dress.’
He laughed quietly. ‘Traitor or not, you look lovely.’ He topped up her cup and held it out to her. ‘Have some more coffee. It’ll make you feel better.’
She did as she was told but it didn’t diminish the embarrassment.
‘So why are you trying to blend in?’ Ethan asked.
Dee slumped back in her chair as though the truth of it was a crushing weight. ‘Because I’m broke. Because I wore a sparkly dress to Lucy’s Christmas party and scored the Health Life job, which, God bless it, paid off some very scary debts. But now I’ve got a car that’s at death’s door, no furniture, an irritating flatmate, a mother who wants to push me around and I stupidly thought I could come here and be assertive with my “earthy chic” and someone would say, “Do another ad, Dee, and I’ll pay you heaps of dough.” Crazy, huh?’
‘Not really. Plenty of business gets done at these things.’
‘Not when you drink too much, expose your boobs and fall on your face.’ She clapped her hands over her eyes.
Ethan said nothing for a long moment, which she was more than relieved about. In the darkness behind her palms, she could almost pretend he wasn’t there.
‘Are you good at what you do, Dee?’
Spreading a couple of fingers, she saw he was watching her with eyes that were suddenly businesslike and intense. She dropped her arms, cocked her head. ‘Well, I’ve studied in India with –’
‘I didn’t ask for a résumé. Are you a good yoga teacher?’
‘My students seem to think –’
‘I don’t want to know what your students think. What do you think?’
Dee opened her mouth then shut it again. What did she think? She sat up straight, forced herself to concentrate. Teaching wasn’t just about knowing the postures but understanding what the student was ready to learn, how best to challenge each person. She thought about Lucy being so excited when she got into the Lotus position. And about Emily, sick and in hospital again, practising the breathing she’d taught her. And about Patrick and his injuries.
She looked Ethan in the eye. ‘Yes, I am a good teacher.’
‘Then tonight won’t matter.’ He said it matter-of-factly, with a confidence that outweighed her embarrassment. ‘Everyone makes mistakes. It’s when you keep making the same ones that you fail.’ Then he raised a cheeky eyebrow. ‘Besides, by the time the night’s over, so many boobs will have been flashed that no one will remember yours in particular. No offence.’
She grinned. He grinned back. They were still at it when Lucy materialised from the hallway and stood, hands on hips, in front of them.
‘Here you are! I’ve been hunting for you everywhere.’ She took in their tête-à-tête, checking briefly from one to the other before stopping at Dee. ‘I hope my brother hasn’t been harassing you.’
Dee pulled the front of her dress closer together. ‘No, I had a bit of a, ah …’
‘I was rescuing her from Brad,’ Ethan cut in.
‘Good move. When he gets his hands on someone, you need a crow bar to prise him off.’ Lucy’s gaze flicked back and forth between them again before she shook her head just a tad. ‘Come on then.’ She scooped air with her hand. ‘That’s enough relaxing. There’s work to be done. Ethan,
I need you to put in a good word with Trent. And, Dee, I found someone else who’s dying to meet you.’ She marched them back to the ballroom like an officer leading troops, calling over her shoulder before going through the door, ‘By the way, Ethan, your date’s looking for you.’
Of course, she only had to look, Dee thought. She didn’t need to throw herself at Ethan’s feet to get his attention.
Chapter Ten
Dee pulled up in the driveway of the Roxburgh family’s holiday house, trying to decide if she was too tired to eat or too hungry to sleep. Being assertive and finding the path to security and furniture was exhausting. Thanks to the ad and a lot of hard work and scrimping, she’d now paid off Leon, made the rent, kept the electricity on, put a few dollars aside for a sofa and bought four new tyres. It was a big step towards Shit Together but she still had a long way to go.
Unfortunately, the dinner hadn’t produced any more fabulous job offers, so for the past week she’d taught every class that came her way. The good news was that students were back from their Christmas/New Year hiatus and she had two new private pupils (yay!). She’d also taught extra classes to help out Arianne, who now had all-day morning sickness (poor thing but yay for the money!). The bad news was that the extra workload had caught up with her in a bunch of miscellaneous sore muscles and a stomach she couldn’t fill.
Especially bad because the house-party guests would be expecting the inspiring TV yoga girl, not hungry, tired, irritated Dee. She practised an inspirational smile in her rear-view mirror and wondered whether it was worth locking the car, surrounded as it was by expensive-looking four-wheel-drives and a little sporty number.
‘Come on in,’ Lucy called in answer to her knock.
Dee opened the door, raising eyebrows at Lucy’s ‘old weekender’. It was a multi-level palatial home on the edge of Lake Macquarie and from a two-storey-high window she could see the dark water almost lapping at the back door and the lights of the opposite shore twinkling prettily in the distance.