by Allie Parker
‘I like to be close to the action. Know who’s coming and going and be here for any dramas.’ Flynn didn’t say that he didn’t have anywhere else to go. And Avery didn’t ask. Flynn’s mobile vibrated. ‘That’ll be the pizza,’ he said and left the room.
A short while later the pizza was gone, they were sipping their wine, and Flynn found himself at ease. This surprised him, but he figured that it was Avery’s natural calm rubbing off on him. She had a way of making silence between company feel natural and not seem like an eternity dragging out due to lack of conversation. On the contrary their conversation flowed easily, mostly about the different jobs they had completed and how they got into their work in the first place.
Just as Avery finished her wine her phone beeped to signal an incoming call. She excused herself and answered the unfamiliar number. ‘Avery here... Oh... I see... no, no, I’ll collect it on my way home and see what I can do... no problems at all... I’m sorry too.’ She frowned as she hung up her phone. She looked up at Flynn who was watching her. ‘One of my paintings has been defaced. The owner wants me to see if I can fix or re-paint it.’
‘That’s awful, where was it that it could have been defaced?’
‘Hanging in a hotel hallway. That fancy one on Morrison Street. I’d better head off and check out the damage,’ she said, disappointed to be leaving under such circumstances after such a nice evening.
Flynn walked her to the front entrance and held the door open for Avery. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to the hotel?’
‘Thank you, Flynn, I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll be able to fix it and if not I’ll replace it with another from the same collection. The hotel’s insurance will cover it.’
‘Well, I’ll probably see you around tomorrow then.’
‘Take care.’ Avery paused for a moment, watching Flynn’s eyes flicker over her face.
‘You too,’ Flynn said with a faint smile. He waited until Avery was in her car before turning and securing the door behind him. Strangely the building seemed emptier and quieter than most evenings.
*
For the first two weeks, Meg and Byron worked on their parts of the project together, devising detailed plans and sketches in the Cassidy Design studio. During the times that Byron had to work on other client’s jobs, Meg stayed at the studio and continued to make notes around the sorts of photos she thought would fit with the client brief. Most evenings Meg, Byron and Simon would catch up about their progress, go out for a casual dinner, or order in and stay at the studio. Avery also met them when she wasn’t working late or taking Chadwick for a walk or a swim.
Every time Byron had intended to ask Meg about Patrick Heathcliff and the money laundering investigation, something conveniently came up, or he convinced himself Meg wasn’t in the right frame of mind to discuss it. So work remained the main focus for all of them. Simon would go to the pub occasionally but most of his time was spent at the studio. Every now and then Meg and Byron stole a kiss here or a meaningful glance there. But nothing had really developed in that aspect of things. Meg was just enjoying the flirting and fun until one evening when Simon went to meet Bella. Meg was contentedly chatting about the photo shoot she had lined up for the following day when she looked up and realised Byron was lounging back in his chair looking at her with a huge grin on his face. Meg stopped and smiled back.
‘That all sounds very interesting, and trust me, I am very interested.’ He rose from his chair and closed the gap between them. ‘But I’m also very interested in this.’ He cupped Meg’s face lightly in his hand and kissed her gently on the lips. She didn’t hesitate in responding to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he sunk with her onto couch. With his weight pressing on her, instantly filling her senses with need and lust.
Simon burst through the studio door and walked through to the kitchen. ‘You may want to take that somewhere else; I’ll be working late tonight.’ He barked as the sound of the fridge door and a bottle top twisting off reached the couch.
Meg looked into Byron’s eyes, not wanting him to release her, but also knowing it was a safe place to stop without any expectation of going further. If they went back to either of their places, the probability would be to take things up a notch.
Byron could tell by Meg’s eyes, regardless of the fact that she was still holding onto him, they would not be taking this somewhere else. He saved her the awkwardness and said, ‘I should stay here and find out what’s going on with Simon, it looks like he could use his brother right now.’
‘Yeah, you’re right.’ Meg smiled in appreciation and pulled Byron closer for one, lingering, goodbye kiss that proved they were only parting ways for now. That was all the reassurance Byron could hope for. He helped Meg up and walked her to the door.
Chapter Fifteen
The following day, the team were in the pub discussing a meeting they’d had with James and Flynn about the next phase of the project. The music was turned up loud and people were starting to fill the dance floor.
Meg sat on a stool in analysis overdrive. She was so deep in her own thoughts that she wondered why no one could hear them. James had said he didn’t like her initial photo ideas, and had asked Meg to reshoot them or come up with something completely different. He hadn’t been rude or obnoxious about it, but it guttered Meg anyway. She was just starting to feel a bit of her old self creep back, when James Madden had flattened her again.
When she had returned home from the Madden building, she’d stood in front of the mirror and stared at herself. Why was she working on this massive project at this particular time in her life? She didn’t deserve to be working on a grand project with such talented people. She would just bring them all down. She was bringing them down; no one else’s ideas had been rejected. Only hers. She wanted to cry, to wallow in her self-pity.
Her emotions had been so up and down lately. She hated that every little thing around her had such a huge influence on her state of mind. She was worried about the investigation, not just about proving her innocence, but Avery’s murals were already attracting media attention to the Madden project, since her Clementine Prize win she was a hot topic, and Meg worried the exposure would lead to people looking into her own background. She was also nervous about where things were going with Byron. She had been enjoying her work again, until now. Sometimes she was restless and sad and frightened and happy all within the space of a few hours. It was exhausting. All she wanted was to feel like she did a year ago. Was that too much to ask? If she could pinpoint a time that she’d like to travel back to, it would be to the day of the bushfire. She hadn’t felt that alive since then. She stared at herself in the mirror for so long that she started to look like an abstract painting. All she felt was numb.
But now, in the pub, she could feel her heart rate rising and her skin felt hot and flushed. They were talking about the meeting with James as if her world hadn’t just cracked apart. What was she doing with these people? What was she doing with Byron? She couldn’t do this, any of it. They were better off without her. She excused herself, ignoring Avery’s worried glance, and instead of going through to the toilet, she kept walking and went straight out the front door. She raced down the steps, rounded the corner and stood on the grass beside the pub. She took a few deep breaths and thought she was about to hyperventilate when Byron moved into her line of sight. Great, now she would embarrass herself to top off everything else.
‘Hey, what’s going on, Meg? Are you ok?’
Meg was quite for a minute, trying to control her breathing and her thoughts. She felt like she was screaming but nothing was coming out of her mouth.
Byron sat down on the grass next to Meg. For some reason, she reminded Byron of the way Grace was after their dad had died. Fine some days, quiet others, and then frantic and anxious seemingly out of nowhere. Byron had learned then to be patient and let her speak only when she was ready. The main thing was to let Grace know he was there to talk to and then to wait until she was r
eady.
Eventually, Meg sat next to Byron. She opened her mouth but still nothing came out. Where the hell to begin, she thought. She inhaled through her nose and then said, ‘I shouldn’t be working on this project, Byron. This is out of my league. I don’t do this sort of thing anymore. It’s not who I am.’
Byron thought carefully for a moment. ‘Why,’ he asked with no accusation in his voice.
‘It’s too much. I feel like I can’t get air into my lungs. This project. You. Simon. I need to go back to stock shots and calendars.’ She hated even saying the words.
‘Because they’re safe?’ Byron could see Meg withdrawing into herself, like she was when he’d met her for coffee a few months ago. He thought of all the effort he’d put into making her feel more at ease.
‘Yes,’ she nodded.
‘They don’t threaten or challenge you.’
‘No.’
‘Because you want to be in control of your life again.’
‘Yes.’ Meg could feel her muscles starting to relax and her breathing slow.
Byron couldn’t pinpoint what was compelling him so fiercely to help reawaken Meg’s creative glow. Whether it was the talent she was wasting or the heartache he felt seeing her apprehension. Whatever it was, it was strong and wouldn’t go away. ‘Meg, do you remember who you were when you were 18?’ Just for a split second Byron saw a flash of something cross over Meg’s face, a twitch of a smile and her eyes softened. He continued cautiously. ‘Remember the clothes you used to wear? Your hair style? Your boyfriend? Remember the feeling that the whole world was there just waiting for you to grab it and be whoever you decided to be?’
Meg looked at Byron and wondered how he knew that’s what she feared she was losing. Maybe he could read her thoughts after all.
‘Did you want to be in control of your life then? Or did you want to be challenged and excited?’
‘But Byron, I’m not 18 anymore.’ Meg put her hand on Byron’s arm and pleaded with him.
‘But what’s changed? Why can’t you be whoever you want to be? You are talented, kind, beautiful. Why don’t you want to live your life without reservation?’
‘Right now I don’t deserve to,’ Meg whispered.
‘That’s bull shit, Meg, and you know it. I know you don’t want to open up to me about what’s made you feel like this, but I doubt it’s that bad that you should deprive yourself of happiness. Haven’t you been feeling numb? Without a goal or a purpose? Haven’t you deep down craved a job like this, a bit of fun and excitement?’
Meg was shocked at Byron’s truth and honesty. How did he know these were her feelings, her fears?
‘This is your life, Meg, don’t waste it on things or people that don’t matter to you. I don’t mean to sound corny, but love the things you do and do the things you love. Make it worth it.’ Byron sat looking into Meg’s eyes. He could see the inner struggle playing out behind them. He watched silently and hoped like hell the strong, independent Meg would shout the loudest. Just when he thought he’d gone too far, he started to backtrack. ‘Meg, I...’
Meg launched at Byron, her hands through his hair, her lips hard on his. Instantly he responded in kind. They fell to the ground and he slipped his arms around her waist and held her tightly to him. She sunk in and enjoyed the feeling of warmth and protection.
‘We’re all here to help you, Meg. We’re a team now; we work together and support each other. So you didn’t hit the mark with the photos this first time, we’ll come up with something bigger and better together and you’ll bring them to life. You’ll knock James’ socks off. Just trust in us as a team and you as a creative professional.’
‘It’s just so hard when you’re job is your passion. When I show my work, it’s like a part of me. And right now, I feel like this is all I have. If someone like James Madden rejects my pictures, he’s rejecting me.’
‘Trust me, I understand how you feel. But he’s not rejecting you; he’s asking you to be better, because he knows you can be.’ Byron kissed her again. ‘You know you can.’
Meg took a deep breath which filled her lungs and cleared a little piece of her heart. ‘Thank you. I don’t know where all of that came from, it’s like you’ve always known me. Am I really that transparent,’ Meg smiled weakly.
‘Come on, give me some credit here. We might have only just met, but you mean a lot to me, Meg. I listen to you, the things you say and the things you don’t say.’ She smiled at him and kissed him some more. They headed back into the pub, ignoring the smiles and raised eyebrows of Avery and Simon.
Later that night, Meg couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. She realised then what had drained away from her life as those long dark months had dragged on. All of a sudden she had the strength to pull back the curtain that had shielded her from seeing what she was doing all this time. It had started out as a basic need to pay her bills. But she hadn’t wanted to put her heart on the line through her photography. She was raw and vulnerable and didn’t want to be judged by anyone. She stuck to simple, no nonsense jobs which she knew would pay the bills and keep her tucked away out of sight.
But it was different now. She’d had enough. For as long as she could remember, she wanted to amaze people. She wanted to show people things they might never see for themselves. She wanted to hold people’s attention and open their minds to explore new worlds, worlds which Meg would carefully lay out in front of them through photographs she herself had taken. For the first time in a long time, Meg wanted to display her talent to anyone and everyone who would look. She threw back the covers and rushed down the stairs to her sketchbook.
Chapter Sixteen
Flynn had become accustomed to the sound of the second floor laundry sink filling with water at the end of each day. He knew that it signalled Avery had finished working and would soon be applying that smelly cream while making her way to the front entrance. He remembered something he had to tell her and walked out to meet her in the hall. He wouldn’t dare interrupt Avery’s work process during the day with trivial site details. Sometimes when he did catch a glimpse of her on his way past one of the mural sites, she seemed so deep in her zone that he’d just stop for a moment and take in Avery’s progress, Avery’s movements, Avery. Now, she smiled warmly as he approached. When Flynn stopped in front of her, he noticed that Avery’s eyes were a deep green with hazel edges. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed that before. And why he was noticing it now.
Flynn stood in front of Avery for a few moments, just gazing at her. She smiled and contemplated his intense stare. He and Avery had that in common, they didn’t find silence intimidating or threatening, just a happy lull in the conversation. Flynn, a man of few words, seemed to Avery like an intelligent man who thought before he spoke and thought a lot in general.
‘I wanted to let you know that the electricians will be back in tomorrow, but they shouldn’t be in your way at all. I’m not sure what you’ve got planned but if you stay on this floor you won’t even notice them’.
‘Ok, thanks.’ Avery smiled at Flynn and pushed a strand of hair from her brow with the back of her hand.
‘How did you go with the painting from the hotel?’
‘Not good I’m afraid, I had to replace it – it was beyond repair. They didn’t catch who did it either; it would seem the security cameras operating in that area couldn’t get a good look at the culprit. But the hotel paid me for the replacement and the insurance company will reimburse them. So at least that’s one thing.’
‘That’s good then.’
What Avery didn’t tell Flynn was that she had also received a text message warning her to stop working on the murals or more of her paintings would be destroyed. She hadn’t told anyone and didn’t want a big fuss being made. Since no one had mentioned any other incidences involving her paintings, Avery decided that it was a one-off random thing.
Flynn gestured to the mural behind them. ‘This is coming along.’
‘I’m
on a bit of a roll actually.’ Happiness and passion suddenly animated Avery’s face. ‘I haven’t been this motivated by a paying job in a long time. Some evenings I don’t want to leave. I’d be quite happy to curl up under the lush rainforest scene and sleep with the fairies.’ She smiled. ‘But I don’t think Chadwick would be too happy if I didn’t come home at all.’
For reasons that Flynn couldn’t explain, disappointment settled in his stomach. He couldn’t help but think what a stupid name Chadwick was. Then he reprimanded himself internally for being so immature. ‘Well, I won’t keep you. Have a good evening.’
Flynn turned and faded back into the shadows before Avery could explain that her dog stayed with the neighbour when Avery worked long hours. Chadwick wasn’t just tied up in the back yard all day long. But what would that matter to Flynn, he lived and breathed his work and didn’t seem to have anything in his life outside of the job. She thought that must be sad and lonely.
The following day Flynn was grumpy from having had a broken sleep. He snapped at one of the electricians for asking amateur questions which were outlined plain as day on the electrical plans Flynn had given him, if he’d just open his eyes. After that, he decided he’d spend his afternoon on the top floor of the building. Most of that area was complete and it was the only space not crawling with tradesman and Avery. Flynn got out the sketch that detailed the furniture for the area and made sure the order due to arrive the following week was correct. He knew he was procrastinating and he should be down on the ground floor, available to answer any questions - no matter how stupid. But he figured that’s what he had a mobile phone for. After an hour he was so deep in thought about the built in cupboards, actually crouching in one to see the detail of the carpentry, that he didn’t hear the elevator tone to signal someone’s arrival.