by C. J. Duggan
‘Mrs “brown-eye”? Now, that is most unfortunate,’ he agreed, chuckling. And just like that, I saw that the old Jack was back … for now.
I revelled in the victory of his smile, and decided not to push any further. Again, Jack Baker, the very person I swore I would stop thinking about, managed to find out more about me, while he became ever more enigmatic. It was beyond frustrating, not to mention completely humiliating, that after an hour of complete rambling he knew all he could ever want or need to know and I was left with more questions than ever. Questions that, even this morning, I had sworn I cared little about. I really didn’t want to feel this way – to have my heartrate spike every time I saw him, to feel my mouth dry whenever his arm brushed against mine. I hadn’t felt this way in a long, long time, not since the unrequited love of Jake Miller in Year Twelve, the very boy who had broken my heart when he pashed Cassandra Barton after the valedictory ball. Sure, there had been other boys since then, but not until now did I feel that same, unmistakable tingling inside. I was doomed.
Jack rustled through the plastic shopping bag at his side and produced two brown bottles of beer, twisting off the tops and handing me one. I pressed my lips together, feeling like a sixteen-year-old once again, sneaking a beer from the boys before a school social. Taking it felt wicked, exciting – ridiculous, considering the many drunken nights I’d had back home. I tried not to think about the feel of my fingers brushing Jack’s as I took the beer from him, confidently taking a deep swig of it. I could feel his eyes on me as I did so, watching to see if I enjoyed it. Despite the amount of time we had spent on the doorstep this evening, me telling Jack every meaningless detail of my life besides my tax file number and shoe size, the beer was still surprisingly cold, though bitter. I was more of a cocktail or sweet wine drinker, but I was determined not to wince at the hoppy aftertaste. I’m an Australian girl after all – I have a reputation to uphold. I used the beer as fuel, liquid courage to finally voice my thoughts.
‘We should have a balcony party!’ I blurted out, apropos of nothing and nowhere near the subject matter I had hoped the alcohol would give me the strength to raise. I blamed the proximity of his strong thigh, the feeling of it touching mine, and how difficult I had found it not to think about that fact. But once the words were airborne there was no reeling them back in, no turning back the time, no matter how desperately I wanted to.
Jack looked at me closely, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement as he tried to understand what I had said. Oh God, please don’t make me repeat it, I couldn’t bear it. My cheeks were red enough, and the way he was smirking at me made me want to die a thousand deaths.
‘A balcony party?’
I glanced down at my fingers peeling the label off the beer, trying to disguise my embarrassment.
‘Yeah, I actually had a really good day today,’ I confessed with a small smile. Despite my random ramblings, somehow I’d managed not to mention about my act of ‘living in the moment’, which I may not have had the guts to do if not for his pushing. I was proud of all I had achieved today and wanted to share it with him, to thank him, but there never seemed to be a right time.
So what? You suggest a balcony party? How is it the right time for that?
Jack took a swig of his own beer, his mind working as he tapped out a light tune on the bottle.
‘Maybe some other time, yeah?’ he said, looking at me for a long moment. I’m sure I stopped breathing as I tried desperately to read him. Just when I thought I saw something in his eyes that suggested he might actually close the distance between us, Jack stood, offering his hand to help me up.
‘Yeah, sure,’ I said, placing my hand in his and making sure my dress didn’t ride up as I stood. I was on the steps above him now and we were, for the first time, face to face, which felt odd and strangely intimate as we looked at one another.
‘Maybe some other time,’ I said.
Jack smiled while I continued to stare into his eyes, looking for some kind of meaning. I didn’t realise I was still holding his hand until he squeezed it.
‘Goodnight, Kate,’ he said. I blinked out of my trance, slipping my hand away from his.
‘Goodnight, Jack.’
Jack reached for his bag just as the front door opened, casting us in a strip of light from inside. I quickly turned to hide my beer – if Nana Joy saw me drinking on the step, out of a beer bottle no less, I’d never hear the end of it – only to catch a knowing smile from Vera.
‘Oh, sorry to interrupt. It’s time for me to head home.’
‘Of course, yes, thank you, Vera,’ I stammered, still flustered and foggy from the miasma of Jack’s gaze.
‘Nana’s in bed, I think she’ll be sound asleep by now. The mundane affair of book club really took it out of her; in fact, I dare say she will be out cold,’ Vera said, glancing between the pair of us in a not-too-subtle hint.
‘So have a nice night, you two. Kate, I’ll see you in the morning, maybe sleep in a little, until you fully feel better, that is.’ Vera winked, tapping me on the arm before walking down the street.
Jack’s brow furrowed, turning away from Vera to look at me. ‘Are you not well?’
I bit my lip, excitement coursing through my veins.
‘Actually, I’ve never felt better,’ I said, a devilish twinkle in my eye.
Jack gave a cautious smile, like he didn’t quite know how to take me.
‘What are you looking so smug about, Miss Brown?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Jack Baker, do you want to see why I had such a good day?’
‘Okaaay.’
I smiled, wondering if it was the beer or the knowledge that Nana was off in the land of nod that made me so brazen. Either way, Jack seemed to be affected, too; I sensed a new lightness in him as I pressed my back against the door and grabbed the handle. ‘Do you want to come up?’
Jack’s brows lifted as he looked from me to the terrace behind, a little crooked curve to his mouth.
‘Geez, you don’t have to beg, Kate,’ he said, stepping up to the door with a glint in his eyes. The old Jack was definitely back.
My stomach flipped; I was nervous and excited all at the same time, knowing that once I invited him in, there was no going back. I twisted the handle and looked up at him.
It was all he needed. He slung his bag over his shoulder and followed me inside.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I felt like I was sixteen again. Sneaking a boy into my bedroom, leading him up the stairs, wincing as I forgot to avoid the squeaky step, and putting my finger to my lips for Jack to be quiet. Holding his hand, I led him into my darkened room, quietly closing the door. Jack was merely a shadow next to me, albeit a very imposing shadow.
‘Wait here,’ I whispered, padding my way to my bedside, turning on the lamp and filling the room with a glow. I turned around, wringing my hands together as I felt the nerves return. Sure, I had been confident on the doorstep but now I had him here, in my room, standing next to my bed … well, that was a whole other story.
Jack placed his bag on the floor next to the door and, holding my eyes, clicked the lock on the handle. ‘Just in case,’ he said. ‘Not that I think old Joy will be barrelling through your door in the middle of the night.’
‘Don’t be so sure, she can get around when she wants to,’ I said, glancing at the very chair I had found her in last night. A shiver ran over me.
‘Are you cold?’ he said, standing next to me and tugging inquisitively at the thin fabric of my tee. By all rights I should be, but if anything, I was burning up next to Jack, scalded by the way he was looking at me. In my fantasies, Jack and I would have barely made it up the stairs; instead, we would have been clawing and kissing and pulling our clothes off, or tumbling against the bedroom door and having crazy, passionate door-sex. But the reality was somewhat different, mainly because, in my fantasy, Jack didn’t have a girlfriend and I was a different person: a femme fatale who wasn’t afraid to undress with the light
on. For all my insecurities, I might as well have been a virgin. I felt so stupid. I couldn’t even look up at him without blushing furiously. Jack must have sensed the change in me; gone were the sexy smiles and arched brows.
Sure, do you want to come upstairs to … what? Stand awkwardly in my bedroom? Rock ’n’ roll.
I blinked, trying to gain some momentum in my mind; what had I planned to show him? I knew what I wanted him to show me, but mentally slapped myself, brushing past him to get to the opposite side of the room, the somewhat safe zone. I placed my beer on top of my desk and flipped open my laptop, typing in my password and clicking into my folders.
‘It’s not very good. I mean, I’ve only done a quick edit on the first episode,’ I lied, vividly recalling how many hours I had spent agonising over every minute detail. ‘So it’s still pretty rough.’ Another lie, I was actually really proud of the end product. I brought up the video, aware that Jack had placed his beer next to mine and had his hand on the back of my chair, the other resting on the desk as he leant over my shoulder, peering at my screen.
God, he smelled good.
‘So this is the blog?’ His words snapped me out of my daydream.
‘Ah, yes! Yes it is, here,’ I said, reaching for my headphones and plugging them into my laptop. ‘Sit,’ I said, standing and stepping away from my chair, holding them out to him. Jack’s gaze flicked down to the headset with interest, before slowly taking it from me. I couldn’t let the headphones go, my hand refusing to release as the nerves and doubt threatened to overtake me.
‘The thing is, um, I’ve never done anything like this before, I mean, like, vlog; I mean, I have blogged, but, like, nothing serious, nothing that meant anything. I don’t really have a following yet, I know I said I was a writer, but I guess it’s more that I want to be a writer, and maybe I was trying that whole The Secret thing, where you will something into being by saying it …’
I was rambling again, I knew I was, when what I really wanted to say was, ‘Please don’t mock me and crush my dreams.’
I don’t know if Jack got that vibe, but he gently peeled my fingers off the headphones with a wink. ‘Grab another beer.’
I nodded, yes, of course. Great idea.
‘Do you want one?’
‘Please,’ he said, pulling on the headphones and making himself at home at my desk. I walked back to the plastic bag by the door, pulling out two beers, my back still turned as I twisted the tops off, trying to keep my breaths even.
What are you doing, Kate? Why are you showing him, of all people? You might as well wake Nana up and get her to come have a look too, you bloody lunatic.
I straightened and turned, all but ready to tell Jack I had changed my mind when I realised it was too late.
Jack’s beautiful face was lit by the flickering of my computer, his dark eyes fixed to the screen, a smile across his face. I didn’t dare move, for fear of distracting him from the show. I slowly placed his beer in front of him but he was oblivious, so I edged away until the back of my legs hit my bed and plonked myself down, sipping on my beer. I watched Jack’s face transform from thoughtful to intrigued to, dare I say, compelled. He even laughed, twice, and I had to think back to what could have been so funny. Was he laughing with me or at me? I shifted on my mattress, thinking how incredibly long my video was; it certainly hadn’t felt that long when I was editing it, nor, for that matter, when I was in front of the camera. Maybe he had reduced the window and was watching funny cat videos on YouTube instead? As self-doubt continued to spin my brain into fairy floss, Jack pulled the headphones from his head and sat back in his chair, looking at me like he’d never seen me before.
I rolled my empty beer bottle in my palms, waiting for him to say something, anything. ‘Don’t give up your day job’ or words to that effect; instead, he was laughing, shaking his head.
‘Oh God, what?’ I said, straightening my back and preparing for the blow.
‘Where did you film this?’
I bit my lip, cringing at the question. ‘Do you want to see?’
It was a big risk, but all the same, with my finger pressed against my lips, I gestured for Jack to follow me through the bedroom door and up the hall, stilling before the secret room. The one place that worked to calm me like nothing else, even if it was with the one man who had quite the opposite effect on me. I carefully turned the handle, smiling over my shoulder as my heart beat out a frenzied tattoo.
‘This is intense,’ he whispered, which only caused me to smile even bigger.
‘Behold a thing of beauty,’ I said, before pushing the door open, flicking the light on and revealing ‘Kate on the Thames’ HQ.
I thought that maybe I had been enamoured by the space because, well, I was a girl and I like pretty things, but as I watched Jack edge his way into the room, his eyes trailing along the shelves and to the glass-topped counter, I could tell that even he was taken aback. The constant wonderment I experienced in this room was reflected in his wide-eyed gaze.
‘No wonder you’ve been missing.’
I grinned, a weight lifted from my shoulders; for the first time I was able to share this with someone, and funnily enough, it was the last person I ever suspected.
Jack moved to peer over the jewellery under the glass in astonishment.
‘Is all this yours?’ he asked.
Oh shit. How to kill happiness with one question.
I gently closed the door behind me. ‘Ah, no, not exactly.’
‘Nana Joy’s?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Please tell me she has all this insured.’
‘Um, I don’t know the details, I just use this room and these things as a form of inspiration for my blog. I know I shouldn’t but—’
‘Be damned you shouldn’t! Do you have any more videos?’ Jack turned to me, his eyes alight with excitement.
‘Um, yeah, I have been filming all day, but I haven’t edited them or anything.’
‘Kate, you’ve got to get them out there, you have to show the world “Kate on the Thames”.’
I could feel the heat creep up to my cheeks. ‘Well, I’ve only shown you so far.’
Jack came to stand before me, looking down at me intensely. ‘Well, that’s got to change.’
‘Yeah, I know but—’
‘Kate.’
My eyes flicked up to his, and I was once again lost.
‘Your vlog is brilliant.’
I smiled blindingly wide. ‘Really?’
‘Really. It has everything it needs to work, Kate; if you want, I can help you.’
‘Know much about beauty and fashion, do you?’
Jack laughed. ‘Not so much, but editing and video content? Now that I know.’
I folded my arms. ‘Do you work in IT then?’
Jack smiled. ‘Something like that.’
‘What is it that you do exactly, Jack?’
Jack rubbed the line of stubble at his jaw; the question seemed to put him on guard. ‘Oh, you know, a typical white-collar job that affords enough stress to down a few beers on the neighbour’s steps after hours.’
It was as good an answer as I was ever likely to get. He was lucky: ordinarily, I would have pressed for more, but right now I was distracted, excited.
‘So you’re pretty handy with web content?’
‘Very.’
‘And you really want to help?’
‘You said you had more footage?’
‘I do.’
Jack nodded. ‘Well, let’s see it.’
‘What, now?’
‘Weren’t you listening to my speech the other day? Do I have to say it all again?’
I breathed out a laugh. ‘No.’
Jack reached for the door. ‘Then let’s get “Kate on the Thames” on the map.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
I had been so deeply impressed with my own editing prowess, but my skills were nothing next to Jack’s. He turned the bones of my first episode into something slick and
polished while discussing the importance of having a website and social media presence outside of my blog.
‘We’ll get you on Facebook and Twitter so we can link it to your site and blog as well.’
‘Well, I have an Instagram account.’
‘Excellent, this stuff was made for Instagram,’ he said, his hands dancing over the keyboard, his eyes flicking frantically across the screen. ‘Do you have a business model?’
‘What’s that?’
‘Like a plan of what your goals are, what you want to achieve.’
I smiled, leaning in front of him to retrieve an array of scrap papers and the smudged coasters from the Stanhope Arms from my desk drawer, plonking the pile down in front of him. ‘Somewhat, yes.’
Jack laughed, picking up a scribbled-on serviette and examining it. ‘Well, it’s something.’
I studied Jack’s profile, marvelling in his enthusiasm, his apparent belief in what I was doing. He had energised me in a way that had me thinking that maybe this could be something. Then my enthusiasm dampened a little as I realised I hadn’t told Jack what I was doing was a secret.
‘Jack, my nan mustn’t find out about this. I know you probably think it’s ridiculous being so paranoid and secretive when it comes to her, but this is the one thing that’s my own, it’s something that I can do that she can’t touch, or make me feel bad about it. I would kind of like to keep it that way.’
I thought he might have argued the point; instead, he shook his head. ‘She won’t find out. The world will know, but we’ll keep Nana in the dark.’
I blew out slowly, nodding in relief until my attention strayed to the clock on the screen.
‘Holy shit, Jack, it’s three a.m.’
‘And so it is.’
‘You better go get some sleep, you have work tomorrow.’
Jack rubbed his eyes, stretching his arms to the ceiling. ‘Indeed.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to enslave you into working on fashion blogs all night. I’m sure you had better things to do.’