by Janette Paul
The band started up with a drum roll, the da-da-da-ding like an end to her bad joke. Dee glanced anxiously about the group, saw irritated faces that seemed to confirm she’d stuffed up the punchline. Until she got to Ethan. His dessert was untouched, a hand was frozen on his wine glass and his eyes were locked on hers.
‘What are you saying, Dee?’ His voice was tight but there was a hint of uncertainty in it.
‘I don’t think she knows what she’s saying.’ Knife Guy looked at her like she was nuts. ‘Have you even got any investments?’
Dee didn’t answer, couldn’t really. She was pre-occupied watching Ethan stand, walk around the table, take her hand and draw her to her feet.
Behind her, the guy was still talking, rambling like he had all night. Ethan flashed him a look. ‘Sound advice, Mike, but Dee needs to dance now.’ He took her to the floor, held his hand at her waist. ‘Okay, you can quit with the business talk now.’
‘Thank God,’ she sighed with relief. ‘I was running out of words.’
‘You did that a while ago.’ He half-smiled but his body was taut. She was in his arms but there was still no you and me.
‘You wanted somewhere to talk. This is the best I can do at the moment, and talk fast because you’ve only got about three minutes before the next award.’
Shit. A clock was ticking and she had no idea where to start. She just had an aching need to tell him everything. ‘I’ve been scared for ten years, Ethan …’
‘I know all this. And, frankly, I don’t want to get into it again just because you feel bad about what happened. It’s done and I’d prefer to leave it at that.’
Dee’s breath caught in her throat like a large, painful chunk of dread. In a weird, masochistic way, it was reassuring. A comfort that the imminent prospect of losing him for good was worse than her fear of being hurt. That was a first. And it cleared her head and filled her with courage.
‘No, you don’t know. So shut up and listen because I haven’t got long.’ His eyebrows flickered fleetingly but he didn’t speak. ‘I thought I was scared of getting hurt but I’ve been kidding myself for years. I’ve been scared of being happy. I built a shield around myself so happiness couldn’t get in. And when you came along and kicked a hole in it, I was terrified and pushed you away. But now my shield is all broken and I can’t fix it and I don’t even want to.’
Ethan’s face gave nothing away but she thought he pulled her ever so slightly closer. God, she hoped she wasn’t imagining that. The dance floor was filling now and, as he turned her past some other partners, she saw the woman heading for his seat at the table, coming to get him for the next presentation. Get to the point, Dee.
‘The thing is, I’m still scared. Not that you’ll hurt me. I was wrong to think that. I’m terrified of taking something good for myself.’ The woman was standing at his empty seat, scanning the room. ‘I wish I could tell you what you need to hear, that I’m ready to commit to whatever “us” happens to be. But I can’t. I’m not ready for that.’ The arm around her waist was loosening, beginning to slide away. She gripped his other hand tighter. ‘Letting you in is the biggest thing I’ve done since learning to walk again.’ The woman was on the dance floor, heading towards them. Dee spoke fast. ‘And the truth is, I don’t really care what the future holds. I just need you to be in it.’
The woman tapped his shoulder. They stopped moving, stood on the dance floor like a snap-shot of ballroom beginners. His eyes were dark, uncertain, hesitant. Her belly was clenched so tight she couldn’t breathe.
‘Mr Roxburgh?’ The woman spoke over his shoulder.
He nodded, dropped his hand from her waist and turned to leave. But his other hand was still in hers and she tightened her fingers on it, flexed her strong shoulders and pulled him back, whispering in his ear, ‘I love you, Ethan.’
Then she let him go, feeling stronger for having told him. She watched him follow the woman off the dance floor, saw the small smile on his face as he glanced back at her, and hope massaged the knot in her stomach.
There was a brief kerfuffle on stage as Ethan spoke with the MC, pointed to his watch before taking to the microphone again. Dee went back to her seat, took a long drink of wine. She was nervous, scared, excited, a little desperate. There was still another round of presentations to go. Another half an hour before she could get him alone and find out what was going on behind his fabulous dark eyes. Maybe she could drag him into the corridor before the final award, pin him to a wall, kiss him so he’d believe her when she said she loved him.
His voice rang out over the microphone. ‘Unfortunately, I have to leave early tonight. I’d love to stay but I can’t convince Qantas to hold up an entire flight just for me. So I’ll present the last two categories now.’
Dee’s head shot up. She grabbed the arm of the woman beside her. ‘What time is it?’
‘Nine forty-five.’
She swung a look at Ethan on the stage, introducing nominees. He was scheduled to leave at ten-thirty. He was forty-five minutes early. Was he giving them time to talk before he left? Maybe time to kiss long and lustily? Or was he planning to escape out the fire exit without saying goodbye?
She watched him shake hands with the winners, pose for photos, smile appreciatively at the applause, then weave expertly through a sea of well-wishers to the table. She mentally clenched a fist in victory. Yes! The exit was the other way.
One eyebrow was raised inquiringly as he approached and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. He pulled out her chair, took her elbow as she rose and turned to the table at large. ‘Thank you for your company. It’s been an enlightening evening.’
He steered a path for them through the crowd, his hand strong, warm, promising on her arm. Dee didn’t pin him against a wall in the corridor. She was too busy keeping pace with him – and the pictures in her head. A passionate kiss by his car. Intense embrace somewhere private on the way to the airport. A tearful farewell. Joyous return. Sunsets on his deck, breakfasts in bed, yoga in the patch of sunlight, the beach, art galleries, sailing, fabulous sex in any or all of the above locations. By the time they’d reached the foyer of the hotel, she’d looked further into her future than she had in years. Four or five weeks ahead, at least. Maybe even six. And, wow, was it liberating. Like jumping into the ocean and finding you can swim.
Outside, it was dark, and demonstrators milled in the lit entrance waiting for action. Ethan put a protective arm around Dee as they stepped through the automatic doors. There was a flurry of activity as he was recognised, the protestors raising their posters and starting up a chant. For a moment, Dee and Ethan were trapped in the driveway, waiting for his car to be delivered, ‘Stay Local, Not Global’ in surround sound.
‘How did you get here?’ Ethan asked.
‘I drove.’
‘Where did you park?’
‘In the next block.’
‘Maybe we should take your car?’
Okay, no passionate kiss by his car. No problem, they could have it by hers. She took his hand and pulled him through the demonstrators. They were just clear of them when she heard her name called, turned and almost fell over. It was Tom the Hollywood Jesus.
‘I would’ve invited you to the demo if I’d known you were so committed,’ he called.
Ethan pulled her closer. ‘Ignore him,’ he murmured.
‘I couldn’t get past security when I tried to get in earlier,’ Tom said as he came alongside. ‘How’d you get him outside?’ Behind them, a couple of his buddies were at their heels chanting.
‘You mean Ethan?’ She flicked a glance in his direction. ‘I told him he needed to review his investments.’
‘Good one. So what’s the plan?’
Dee stopped at her driver’s door. Ethan stepped between her and Tom, as though he thought the guy with the hemp bag and pamphlets might assault her.
‘It’s okay, I know him,’ she said.
Ethan hesitated then stepped away, staying close just in c
ase.
‘You drive and I’ll do the talking,’ Tom told her.
Her gaze slid back and forth between them. Tom and Ethan, side by side. The extra from a Bethlehem scene and Cary Grant in An Affair to Remember. She caught sight of herself in the car window, the hair falling loose, the hand-dyed singlet, the swirls on her skirt … she was a cut-away from Jesus Christ Superstar and she laughed – at herself, at the moment, at the crossroads in her life that wasn’t in the least bit terrifying. She glanced back at Tom. ‘I can handle it from here.’
He looked disappointed but handed her his pamphlets. ‘Here, take some literature. Give him something to think about.’
‘That’s the plan.’ Dee got in the car and leaned over to unlock the door for Ethan. No passionate kiss by anyone’s car. It was a minor disappointment but there was still time for a private moment to talk – or whatever. She waited for Ethan to buckle up. ‘Okay, where to?’
‘I need to get to the airport.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
It was the wrong answer. Dee didn’t want to take him to the airport and just wave goodbye. ‘But you left early. There’s no rush now.’
He checked his watch. ‘It’s ten o’clock.’
‘You were meant to leave at ten-thirty.’
‘Nine-thirty. The awards were running overtime.’
Fuck. Dee had it wrong. He wasn’t leaving early for her. He was just leaving.
‘How will you get your car back?’ she said, grasping at straws.
‘My driver can pick it up tomorrow.’
‘What about your luggage?’
‘It was checked in this afternoon.’
‘Of course it was.’ Dee felt like she’d run into a glass door. One of those double laminated ones that didn’t break even when you hit them with the full force of an exciting future behind you. There would be no passionate kiss, no intense embrace, no evenings on the deck, breakfasts, yoga, fabulous sex. Nothing but a tearful farewell. She started the car and pulled into light evening traffic that was all blurry through her tears. Ten minutes was all it had taken. Ten measly minutes to drop-kick her restraint and grab on to a future. And now it was gone. Like a magic trick in a puff of smoke. Fuck it all.
She stopped at lights and snuck an irritated glance at Ethan. He was turned away, watching out the window. A week ago, he said he loved her. She was in love with him then too. Had loved him for months. Had been too scared to do anything but run. Hell, two hours ago she was ready to run to India. It wasn’t as far as New York but would achieve the same thing.
She sucked in a sudden breath. Ethan wasn’t going to New York on business. New York was his India. He’d brought it forward by weeks. He was running away. The light turned green and she took off with a screech, shaking her head, knocking a few thoughts into place. Okay. This was not as bad as it appeared. She was a warrior and warriors did not give up without a fight.
‘All right. I’ll drive you to the airport. I’ll even wave you off at the gate if that’s what you want. But I’m not going to do it silently. So listen up. When you pulled me onto the dance floor back there, I started thinking we had a future. Just now, I thought you’d snatched it off me and tossed it out the window, but you know what? That was a really nice future and I haven’t had one in a long time. And I’ve got a much stronger grip on it than I thought.’
‘Dee, I –’
‘No, I’m doing the talking.’ She crunched down into second gear for a run at the hill ahead. ‘I got some things wrong about you. Especially when I said you’d leave. But I do know you never would have said you loved me if you didn’t. And you’d never fall out of love in a week.’
She flicked her eyes across the car, was barely able to see his face in the dark. Merging left, she turned onto the expressway and sped towards the terminal. ‘As someone who’s done a bit of running, I’m guessing New York has less to do with work and more to do with escape. But don’t think an American Roxburgh Girl will make you feel better because she won’t. The only thing that’ll make you feel better is me.’ Dee gripped the steering wheel hard. ‘My packaging’s not fashionable and I’m all screwed up on the inside but I don’t care that your name is Roxburgh. And I don’t love you for your business skills. I love you for what’s inside. The sweet, soft centre that’s generous and strong and gentle and funny. And for seeing my screwed up bits and saying I love you anyway.’
She took a deep, shaky breath and pressed on. ‘And, frankly, when we get to the airport, if you don’t kiss me for a really long time and tell me you’re coming back for more, you deserve to be beaten about the head by an over-assertive American RG.’
Ethan did nothing for a long time, just watched her, his face disappearing in and out of light as they sped down the expressway. If he didn’t say something soon, she’d have to pull over in the emergency lane and start the kissing for him.
‘Come to New York with me.’ His voice was deep, mellow, slightly unsteady.
She glanced at him then back at the road, wondering if she might need the emergency lane for passing out. ‘Wh … I … what?’
‘I don’t want to kiss you for a very long time and leave. And, believe me, I do want to kiss you for a very long time.’
Her heart beat so hard she thought it might break the windscreen.
He took one of her hands off the steering wheel and pressed his lips to the palm. ‘You’ll love New York. And I can do more than kiss you there.’
Oh yes. Her future was turning around and coming back. ‘Wait. I haven’t got my passport with me.’
‘Ring Pam. I’ll send my driver.’
‘What about clothes?’
‘We can buy anything you need there.’
Wow. New York hadn’t been in her future. Scratch tearful farewell, joyous return. Replace with passionate embrace in Times Square, Central Park, on top of the Empire State Building. Two weeks with Ethan would be bliss. She could check out yoga classes while he was working, talk and laugh and make love when he wasn’t. She’d have to ring Arianne and let her know. Maybe she could pick up a few ideas for the school.
Oh, damn, the school. Arianne and Howard were waiting on her final decision about the partnership. Even if the answer was no, she couldn’t just skip town. Arianne was about to leave and she couldn’t ask Howard and the others to cover for her again. And then there was the yoga DVD and Graeme Paffe’s clothing contract, the cardiac patients and Emily’s daughter Laura.
A few hours ago she’d wanted to run away from all that. Now she wanted to banish that demon too. She stopped at traffic lights. Up ahead was the airport, tail fins of planes moving slowly beyond the buildings.
‘I can’t go,’ she said.
‘It’s okay, Dee. I want to be with you but I understand. We can take the future a step at a time, if that’s what you need.’
Something warm and soft and grateful wrapped around her. He understood. He got her. It was a rare and beautiful thing. ‘Actually, it’s not that. I have some business I need to take care of. Business that can’t wait.’
The lights went green.
‘Then turn around,’ he said.
‘Huh?’
‘If you’re not going to New York, I won’t either.’
Car horns bellowed behind them while Dee wavered, not sure she’d heard right. ‘What about your flight?’
‘I can change it.’
‘What about your appointments?’
‘There’s nothing that can’t be moved. Come on, Dee. Spin the wheel. Get us out of here. I want to kiss you for a long time. And there are better places to do it than here.’
Dee slammed the car into first, squealed the tyres through a u-turn, took off the way they’d come. There was little traffic on the expressway now and her old car roared along in the slow lane with nothing ahead of it.
‘Just to let you know,’ Ethan said, ‘I did not want you to wave goodbye at the gate. I planned to get a private room in the first-class lounge and kiss you until you didn’t have th
e energy to wave.’
‘That would take a lot of kissing. I’m very fit.’
He laughed quietly, happily. ‘By the way, your packaging is far superior to any Roxburgh Girl’s. Theirs is all shiny paper and pretty bows but it tears when you unwrap it. And there’s usually something useless inside. Like a yogurt maker.’
‘A yogurt maker?’
‘Totally pointless gift. But you’re wrapped in something organic and exotic, like hand-painted raw silk. It’s beautiful, strong, durable, incredibly sexy to touch.’
She smiled. ‘And what’s inside? Something weird, like a cow-shaped teapot.’
‘No, something unique, something you can’t buy, something I’ve been looking for all my life.’
She turned her head. ‘What?’
‘It’s you, Dee. You’re what’s inside.’
Her breath caught in her throat. She was going to need the emergency lane after all. She swerved left, pulled up, unclipped her seatbelt and launched herself into his arms. And he kissed her like he planned to do it for ages. Months, maybe. Years, even. Forever would be nice.
‘Take me home,’ he said. ‘So I can unwrap you.’
Dee was nestled into Ethan’s side when the first rays of sunlight drew a pink line across the horizon. She opened her eyes and smiled at the anxiety-free waking moment. Forward gear was worth every second. Slipping out of bed, she stretched, feeling that familiar energised/exhausted thing. She found a sweatshirt in his wardrobe and went to the kitchen for sustenance, putting the jug on to boil, nibbling on cheese and stretching against the marble bench top.
‘I hope you’re not warming up for more. I need some rest,’ Ethan said, standing behind her, an arm around her waist, body against her back.