by Nicola Marsh
To his credit, Chase’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t seem overly impressed or bedazzled as most guys were.
‘Money isn’t everything.’
‘Spoken like a guy who has plenty of it.’
His eyes widened a fraction. ‘You’re in financial strife?’
Damn, what was it about this guy that invited her confidences?
‘Not really. Just the usual ever-increasing mortgage and creative accounting and juggling books running a small business requires.’
She waited for a monetary offer, something a take charge guy like him would do, an offer that would make her feel less competent than she already did. But to his credit he merely nodded, his expression thoughtful.
‘So why’d you panic in there?’
She grimaced. ‘You saw that, huh?’
‘Yeah, though you masked it well from the others.’
He studied her closely and she struggled not to squirm under his scrutiny. ‘Though from where I was standing, looked like you were pretty shaken up admitting Shareen’s your sister.’
She sighed and cast a hopeful glance at the espresso machine but sadly it was still doing its thing and couldn’t save her.
With a reluctant sigh, she slumped against the island bench. ‘Till I came to Melbourne I spent most of my life being compared to my sister. When my folks weren’t doing it, their friends were. Everywhere we went, people would compare the two of us.’
And find her lacking.
She didn’t have to say it. He saw the truth written all over her face despite her best efforts to hide her bitterness.
‘You’re beautiful—’
‘I was a toad next to my sister. She’s tall, I’m average. She’s a rake, I’m a blob—’
‘Now, wait just a minute.’ He slid his hands around her waist before she could move and her traitorous body stayed put, loving the contact. ‘Don’t do that, undersell yourself.’
His hands slid around to the small of her back, bringing her body temptingly close to his.
‘Your curves are gorgeous. You’re feminine and stunning and they drive me wild.’
She opened her mouth to protest and he swooped, his lips silencing her with a devastating kiss that made a mockery of every self-loathing thought she’d ever had.
When Chase kissed her, she felt beautiful.
She felt like a woman who’d never cried herself to sleep because she couldn’t fit into her sister’s designer hand-me-downs.
She felt like a woman who’d never had to forgo her beloved chocolate mousse at a party because her mother was frowning at her over the dessert table.
She felt like a woman who could genuinely attract a man like Chase.
It was keeping him that would be the problem.
Easing away, she placed her palms against his chest.
‘You sure know how to distract a girl.’
His mouth quirked into a smile that made her breathless all over again.
‘I wasn’t aiming for distraction.’
‘Could’ve fooled me.’
Capturing her face between his hands to ensure she didn’t break eye contact, he brushed a soft kiss against her lips. ‘I was proving a point. You’re a desirable woman, Lola. Every gorgeous inch of you.’
‘Spoken like a man who’s after something he can’t have.’
She mentally kicked herself the moment the words were out as he swore and released her.
‘You think I’m trying to sweet-talk you into bed?’
Hating that she’d shattered the cosiness of a moment ago, she cocked an eyebrow. ‘Aren’t you?’
‘No…yes…hell…’ He jammed a hand through his hair, raking it into a rarely seen muss.
‘I’ve never made any secret of wanting you but that wasn’t what this was about.’
Surprised by the wild, out of control glint in his eyes, she slid to her feet, pushing the stool back under the island bench.
‘Then what’s this about?’
He paced several steps, muttering under his breath before swivelling to face her, his wild-eyed look undiminished.
‘I came back because I missed you, dammit. I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t concentrate at work, I couldn’t sleep for—’
He bit back the rest of what he was going to say but she needed to hear it, her heart swelling with joy at his honesty.
‘For?’
Reluctantly dragging his gaze to meet hers, he blurted, ‘For wanting to be near you.’ Not wanting you, as she’d originally thought as his only motivation for being so nice to her.
Wanting to be near you.
Even now she doubted his sincerity, taking his words as a tried and true line he’d probably used on countless women but one look at his face, at the vulnerability underlying every hard plane, showed every word had been genuine.
Clenching his hands by his sides, he muttered, ‘Say something.’
Taking a step forward, she cupped his cheek, reining in her rampant yearning to wrap her arms around him and never let go. ‘Thank you.’
He remained rigid for a long moment before relaxing into her hand and they stood there for a perfect, exquisite moment before the espresso machine signalled it was time to get back to the real world.
Not that she cared.
After what he’d just said, she’d be floating for the rest of the day.
Lola swanned into the glamour session the next morning, grinning as five collective jaws dropped.
‘Oh, my, what are you wearing?’ Cari gasped. ‘I have to have it!’
For once, the four Bs were speechless as she pirouetted and twirled to show off the dress.
‘This, my friends, is a vintage floral print silky satin bubble gown with a hand-beaded and lightly boned bodice.’
Bryony whistled. ‘You look like you’ve been poured into it.’
‘Remember that cinching session we did the other day?’ Lola smiled and tapped her waist. ‘You too can fool the masses with an old-fashioned corset.’
As the girls fussed around her, feeling the luxurious material, Cari elbowed her. ‘Has Chase seen you in this yet? Because when he does, watch out.’
Lola pretended not to hear, ignoring Cari’s chuckles as she shooed them to take a seat.
She’d had another sleepless night courtesy of Chase and his declaration.
I couldn’t sleep for wanting to be near you.
Well, the feeling was entirely mutual and, no matter how much she reminded herself of their differences, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, couldn’t stop wanting him to look at her in that special way.
Wearing her favourite dress today hadn’t been about impressing Chase; it merely symbolised how great she felt—on top of the world, a woman preening beneath the admiration of an amazing guy.
Clapping her hands, she said, ‘Okay, let’s get started. Today is all about glamour. What it means, what you can do to add a little in your daily life with simple touches.’
Babs pointed a black patent designer sandal her way. ‘That’s easy. Colour coordinate with Jimmy or Christian every day.’
The girls laughed.
‘While those shoes are gorgeously glam, for those who can’t afford them, here are a few tricks of the trade.’
Lola whipped off a sheet covering a table loaded with knick-knacks she used for her glamour presentation, enjoying the ‘ooooh’s in unison.
‘So far, we’ve dealt with your basic stuff to make you feel glamorous: red lipstick, garters, seamed stockings, sky-high heels and how to wiggly walk in them, pin curls, victory rolls, finger waves and make-up.’
Gesturing at the table, she said, ‘But glamour isn’t all about perfect hair and make-up. With a few choice accessories, you can feel truly special.’
Her fingers drifted over the feathers, the lace, the silk flowers, loving the sensory experience as much as the familiarity of much loved items.
‘It’s easy to add a few glamorous touches when you’re dressed up and ready for work or a n
ight out. But what about those days you’re lounging around at home, maybe feeling a tad under the weather?’
Preaching to a captive audience, she held up a bold marigold, aqua and claret silk scarf.
‘Having a bad hair day? Just run a brush through it and tie it up with a beautiful scarf like this. Or you can try headband style or go Audrey Hepburn-esque and cover your whole head.’
She held up a small lace-trimmed amethyst satin pillow. ‘Always surround yourself with rich fabrics. Satin covers, lace frills, soft cottons, are perfect for snuggling up with as you read, watch TV, lounge around, whatever.’
Holding up a sheer pearl silk nightgown, she waited for the wolf whistles to stop before continuing. ‘And speaking of lounging around, sensual fabrics shouldn’t be reserved for impressing guys. Pretty nighties, feather-trimmed bed jackets, socks with bows, anything super girly can make you feel pampered and glam, even if the only person enjoying it is you.’
Passing around the nightgown and pillow, she picked up a hand-painted teacup. ‘In this era of lattes and fancy mocha-chinos, we’ve lost the art of savouring quality tea. Using a beautiful porcelain teacup like this one not only brings out the true flavour of the tea but makes you feel just a little bit royal.’
She laughed as Babs mimicked holding up a teacup, pinkie extended.
‘I guess what I’m trying to emphasise here is we can take a leaf out of the old days. Whether it be a bunch of fresh-cut flowers from the garden or a hand-me-down nana blanket or a store-bought scented candle, all these items can bring a little bit of glamour and pampering into our lives.’
Pausing, she kinked out her hip in a theatrical move that elicited more whistling and hoots. ‘After all, we deserve it.’
The girls clapped and crowded around her, jostling for position as they played with her props.
Rapt that they’d enjoyed another session, she stood back, answering questions, content to watch the women appreciate vintage while clad in head to toe modern.
There was much jesting and a few ribald suggestions as Bryony held up the sheer nightgown against Cari and, in that instant, Lola was transported out of Chase’s cavernous lounge room and into his bedroom, imagining what he would do if he saw her in something like that…
A hot blush scorched her cheeks and she quickly turned away, but not before Binnie caught sight of her.
‘Looks like Cari’s not the only one conjuring up visions of a honeymoon night.’
Aghast she was that easy to read, Lola managed a tight smile, mumbled something about getting refreshments, and headed for the safety of the kitchen and a nice cold drink filled with ice. Plenty of ice.
Chase had it bad.
He didn’t chase women; women came after him. It wasn’t vanity, it was fact and something he’d taken for granted.
Until now.
For the woman he wanted so badly he ached wouldn’t chase him unless he threatened to dress the local wallabies in her vintage dress collection.
Sure, they’d grown closer over the last few days, snatching coffees between manicure sessions and managing a late night supper after a tarot evening, but Lola still remained slightly aloof, as if she was holding out on him.
Or was afraid.
He’d seen her fear, whenever they’d got too close. After every kiss, she’d looked as if she wanted to bolt, as if she didn’t believe any of it was real.
From what she’d told him about her sister, he understood. She had body image issues, growing up in the shadow of a supermodel. Probably had her self-esteem battered by the constant comparisons she’d talked about.
But he’d done everything in his power to convince her she was a desirable, beautiful woman in her own right. Was that the problem? He’d only been using words. Was it time to take action?
From their chats he figured Go Retro was what mattered most to her. Plus she’d mentioned financial woes—something about a mortgage—what if he could show her how much she meant to him by helping her with her prized possession?
He knew she didn’t accept help easily. She’d refused to let the girls lift a finger all week, had categorically told him to back off when he’d offered to help her set up for a few sessions and she’d insisted on running into town and stocking up on essentials herself despite a phone-in home delivery service he used when up here.
He admired her independence even if it chafed not to be able to help out when she needed it. Yet if she needed help for Go Retro, her pride and joy, to stay viable, surely she’d bend her rules and accept some well-meaning assistance?
An idea glimmered into his consciousness and with a jubilant fist pump he reserved for scoring major coups at Dazzle, he reached for the phone.
It took him less than five minutes to set his plan in motion and when he hung up his first instinct was to go and find Lola and tell her the good news.
However, one glance at the hen’s party itinerary sitting on his desk scuttled that idea. She’d be in the middle of preparing for the final dinner party and no way would he get between those girls and their food.
Though he should be glad Cari had enjoyed this so much. He’d never seen his sister so relaxed, let alone not ringing the office ten times a day as he was also prone to do.
Thankfully, she’d eased off on the matchmaking stakes but only after he’d told her he had it under control, which she took to mean he was actively pursuing Lola and needed no assistance.
Little did she know that Lola had him so bewildered he didn’t know whether to bolt back to Melbourne or hide away in his study here.
And therein lay the kicker.
For all his chivalrous notion of helping her out to show her he was more than a shallow playboy, he had no idea what he’d do if she actually believed he liked her.
He did, there was no doubt, but realistically once they returned to the city tomorrow he should call it quits. Pursuing her would lead nowhere. With her old-fashioned outlook, she wanted more than he was willing to give and despite their heated kisses, no way would she be satisfied with a fling.
Considering how close they’d grown over the last week, maybe it was for the best they let this thing between them fizzle out.
He’d accompany her to the Hotel Antiqua opening, get her business back on track and bow out gracefully. No harm, no foul.
Then why did he have a hard time believing it?
Lola cradled a mug of cocoa between her hands and tucked her feet under her. The divan on the back veranda had become her favourite hideaway over the last week whenever she needed some downtime, the soft, plump cushions so tempting she could fall asleep.
The final dinner party had gone off without a hitch: the good old-fashioned food—prawn cocktails, Beef Wellington, trifle, soda fountains and Death by Chocolate mousse—had been a hit. Soon, she’d fire up the big band music and the girls would learn a few ballroom dance steps and that’d be the end of her duties.
The week had been a rousing success and she should be ecstatic. Instead, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret it had come to an end. Imogen had run Go Retro without a hiccup and in a way it had been nice to take a break from the constant pressure of making her business flourish.
She lived and breathed the shop, lovingly attending to the merchandise during the day while juggling the books with gritted teeth at night. She’d cut corners wherever possible while not compromising the quality of stock but the retail industry had hit tough times and despite the reprieve from running this party, she constantly worried if her beloved shop would be ripped away one day.
Immy had offered to be joint partner but her pride wouldn’t allow it. She didn’t want her friend investing, didn’t want to accept the fact she couldn’t do this on her own. For if she accepted Immy’s offer, where would it stop? Would she end up approaching her family for financial assistance in the future? No way in hell. She’d rather shut up shop than ask for help from the people who’d only be too happy to say, We told you so.
Thankfully, Cari had loved every mi
nute of the hen’s party and apparently she had four future customers in the other girls when their turn came to traipse up the aisle. Word of mouth was the best kind of advertising and if the girls had their way she’d be getting referrals for a while yet. Throw in the exorbitant fee she was being paid and she should be over the moon.
Taking a sip of cocoa and savouring the smooth chocolate on her tongue, she knew her reticence had everything to do with never seeing a tall blue-eyed charmer again.
Quite simply, she’d miss Chase.
Miss his teasing, his compliments, his smiles.
Miss his interesting conversation, his attentiveness, his kisses.
Whenever she’d been with him over the last week he’d made her feel as if she was special, as if she was the only woman in the world and for that alone she was tempted to throw caution to the wind and see if he wanted to catch up again in Melbourne.
But they were two different people from different worlds and she knew the moment they got back to the city they’d go their separate ways.
Chase belonged in his glass tower on swank Collins Street; she belonged in her old retro shop on Errol Street. A hip, contemporary guy didn’t belong with an old-fashioned girl. And all the smooth compliments and suave smiles in the world couldn’t change that.
‘Thought I might find you out here.’
Lola smiled at Cari and shuffled over to make room for her. ‘Ready to boogie?’
‘Don’t you mean waltz?’
‘With the music I’ve got lined up, you girls will be dancing your feet off all night.’
Cari cast her a mischievous wink. ‘Sure Chase can’t join in? You two could demonstrate some dirty dancing.’
Lola blushed and hid behind her cocoa mug.
‘He likes you, you know.’
Lola muttered a non-committal answer and continued to sip her cocoa.
‘I’ve never seen him like this.’
Cari bunched up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, completely at home squished up on the sofa next to her and it struck Lola how she’d never done this with Shareen. Just hung out, the two of them at home, exchanging confidences, casually chatting.