I furrow my brow. “Wow. Well, that’s great.” I try not to feel jealous at the possibility Bethany is now earning substantially more than what I used to make. And is obviously enjoying herself immensely too!
“Oh! Actually, I’m glad you called because I think you’ll appreciate this. Guess what?”
“What?” I say weakly.
“I figured out what was going on with Imogen!”
“You did?”
“I did,” she confirms. “It turns out you were right and she was blackmailing him! I overheard her bragging to one of her friends on the phone one day, saying that she could take breaks whenever she wanted, because she had an agreement with her boss. But when I asked Keith, he confided that she’d caught him dancing around the office without pants on one day after hours. He’d spilt coffee on them and was taking them to the bathroom to clean up, but Imogen showed up and got the wrong impression.”
I laugh. “Do you believe he actually spilt the coffee?”
“I’m not sure, and I don’t think I really want to know. But I do know that if I was on my way to the bathroom to clean up, I wouldn’t have taken off both my pants and underwear before I got there, even if it was after hours.”
I snort. “He took off his underwear too?”
“Yep. Pretty weird, huh?”
“Very.” Man. I can’t help but feel a little jealous that Keith confided in Bethany so soon into their working relationship. Admittedly, I never thought to ask him directly, but we never had that kind of intimacy in our working relationship, despite how intrusive he was in my life.
“Anyway, I told him I’d take care of it, so I confronted Imogen and told her Keith didn’t care if she exposed him, but if she did, she’d be violating Section 5B of the Australian Human Resources Legislation Code and he could both fire her and sue for damages.”
“What’s Section 5B?” I ask, thinking how impressive it is that Bethany was able to just rattle off the relevant legislation without looking it up.
“I have no idea. I don’t even know if there is a Section 5B. But she didn’t know that.”
“So what happened?”
“I told her she wouldn’t get a reference from anyone if she left, but she could stay as long as she started pulling her weight. And she has! I would even go so far as to say she’s quite helpful.”
“Wow. Well done! You’re definitely more suited to that job than I am.”
“You underestimate yourself, Chloe. Keith talks highly of you, and often. I know I have big shoes to fill, but I’m happy that you’ve found a new direction.”
“Thanks, Bethany. So you’re staying permanently, huh?”
“Yep. At least for a few years. But stay in touch. I’m sure we could find something for you if you wanted to come back.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I say through only-slightly gritted teeth. “Well, I guess I should go. Say hi to Keith for me.”
“Will do. It was nice talking to you, Chloe.”
I hang up feeling a bit different to how I expected I would. I went in slightly apprehensive and a little upset that I hadn’t heard anything from Keith, and hung up feeling sort of the same way, but not for the same reason. It sounds like I’ve been well and truly dismissed. Bethany may say he speaks about me, but if Keith couldn’t even reply to my email, he can’t be too concerned.
Still, it’s a bit petty for me to think that way. My life here is a million times better than even a good day back in Brisbane.
Bethany can have Keith. I will take Daniel in a heartbeat.
***
I’m just finishing lunch when my mobile rings. The caller ID shows it’s Mia. I grimace. I wonder what favour she wants this time.
“Hey, Mia.”
“Hey, Chloe! Where are you? I went round to your place today and some random answered the door and said they’d never heard of you.”
“I’m still in Bangkok,” I say matter-of-factly.
“You’re what?” Her shock makes me feel good.
“I decided to stay on.”
“For how long? And why?” She sounds put out, like it should be her having the interesting life, not me.
“I don’t know how long,” I say airily. “As long as I legally can, I guess. And as for why, well, I didn’t feel like going home.”
“But, but, don’t you have a job in Brisbane? What does Keith think of all this?”
“Keith doesn’t care,” I say, still feeling the tiniest bit annoyed that this is true.
“And what about Aaron? I’m sure he wouldn’t be impressed by you staying there. Does he know?”
God. Had I not even told Mia about Aaron? It just goes to show how little interest she’s shown in my life up until now.
“I broke up with him. I don’t care if he’s impressed or not.”
“Chloe! This is so unlike you!”
“Well, you know what, Mia? I got sick of doing what everyone expected of me. I always dropped everything to help you, and you kept screwing me over. I was constantly trying to please Aaron and he ended up hiring a damn private investigator to follow me around. So you’ll have to forgive me if I wanted to change things a little.”
She’s quiet for a moment.
“I’m sorry for what happened at Koh Pha Ngan,” she whispers.
“It’s a bit late for that,” I say, forcing myself not to cave. “I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to realise I’m not even home. Why were you so desperate to see me anyway?”
“Because of Mum,” she says flatly.
I feel a heaviness settle in my belly. Shit. Something horrible has happened to Mum and here I am berating my little sister.
“What happened to Mum?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she isn’t at home and she isn’t answering her phone. Not that she ever answered her phone, but it’s rare that she goes out. I went to visit the other day and when I let myself in, she was gone. Some of her stuff was missing too.”
“You went to visit without me?”
“So? I do that all the time.”
“You do?” This is the first I’ve heard of it. I never went without Mia.
“Don’t get me wrong, Chloe. It’s much easier to go with you, but sometimes it’s nice to have Mum to myself. She’ll sometimes tell me stuff she wouldn’t say when you’re around.”
“Like what?” My question comes out a bit accusing.
“Like how bad she feels that you’re stuck looking after both of us.”
I blink. “She actually said that?”
“Many times. And sometimes she’ll tell me about what life was like before Dad left. It makes her sad, but I think it’s good for both of us.”
“Why doesn’t she say anything when I’m there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she thinks you’ll get upset?”
“But I wouldn’t! I want to know about that stuff too!” I then remember why she called. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. We need to figure out where she’s gone. Did you call the hospital?”
“Uh, no,” she admits. “I was too scared.”
“Alright, leave it with me. I’ll call around and see what I can find out. I’ll phone back soon.”
I hang up and then let out a big sigh. That was a revelation. But I can dwell on that later. I look up the number for the nearest public hospital to Mum in Brisbane and phone it.
Nope, she’s not there. That’s a relief. I then phone her neighbour, a bossy woman called Joan, to see if she knows anything, but she didn’t even realise Mum wasn’t at home. Maybe her doctor will know?
I’m lucky, and the receptionist at Mum’s medical centre is able to put me straight through to the doctor, who is in between patients.
“Uh, hi. This is Chloe Beech. I was just wondering if my mum, Carol Beech, has been in recently. She’s not at home and hasn’t been in touch, so I was just concerned about her whereabouts.”
“Oh? Well hope
fully she took me up on my recommendation,” the woman says.
“What recommendation?”
“To go to rehab. I found her a centre that could fit her in for a six-week program, and then if she wants, she can move into a residential recovery service for a few months until she finds her feet.”
“How did she respond to the recommendation when you suggested it?”
“She seemed pretty motivated. I got the impression that something happened recently to make her want to take action.”
“Oh. Right. Um, do you mind sending through the details for the rehab centre? I'd like to check up on her.”
“Of course. I’ll pop you back to reception and they can give you the details.”
“Thank you.”
I wait to be transferred and write down the location of the centre, along with its phone number.
I quickly hang up and dial it.
“Kay speaking,” a harried voice answers.
“Oh, hi. Um, I was just wondering if you could transfer me to Carol Beech’s room?” I figure they may have a confidentiality thing if I ask whether she’s a patient, but if I assume she’s already there, she might answer differently.
“Carol? Oh, you mean the new woman. Uh, yeah she’s in therapy at the moment. Can you call back later?”
I exhale in relief. “Um, sure. Thank you!”
I then phone back Mia. “Mum’s in rehab!” I say, still surprised.
“What? Seriously?”
“Yes! I couldn’t talk to her on the phone, but the woman at the centre said she was in therapy. I can call later.”
“Do you think I could go visit?”
“I’m sure you could. I’ll message you the details.”
“Thanks, Chloe. God. Mum is finally doing something about her life. I’m impressed.”
“Me too. Hey, her doctor thought something might have motivated Mum to seek treatment. Do you know what that might have been?”
“I have no idea. The last time I saw her, we were talking about the Thailand trip. Maybe she was worried that if something happened to her while we were away, there’d be no one to notice.”
“I guess that could be it.”
“And listen, I really am sorry for all the crap I pull. I’ll try and make more of an effort in future.”
“Well, I won’t exactly be able to come pick you up in the middle of the night now if you get stranded,” I half-joke. “I can’t afford to fly home and rescue you anymore.”
“I can’t believe you’re staying there! Does this have anything to do with that perfume guy?”
I’m surprised Mia remembered him.
“It does,” I confirm.
“Oh, that’s great. So I might get to meet him one day after all!”
“You might.”
“OK, well I better go. But thanks for everything, babe. I’ll call you once I’ve seen Mum and found out how she’s doing.”
“That will be nice.”
I hang up, feeling much happier about my family than I have in a long time.
Daniel hurries in from the car park and stands in front of me, beaming.
“What?” I ask.
“Your boyfriend is a genius,” he says.
“You mean you?” I say, pretending to be amazed.
He laughs. “Yes! Guess who I just met with?”
“Who?”
“Blue Fox. And they’ve agreed to go with us again. So the perfumery is set for at least the rest of the year.”
I jump up and give him a hug. “Oh, that’s great!”
He kisses the top of my head. “And I have you to thank for it.”
“I’m sure you would have figured it out eventually.”
“But I may not have. Hey, I have a proposal for you.”
I blink. You don’t usually ask for someone’s hand in marriage by telling them you have a proposal, but my mind can’t help going there.
He laughs when he sees my expression. “Not that kind of proposal. Yet.”
I blush. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
“I know you were. Anyway, I was talking to Gan about training him up to run some of the workshops in future, and he said he’d feel more comfortable if he partnered with someone, and he nominated you. So what do you say? Would you like to study perfumery properly?”
I tear up. “Really? Gan wants me to work with him?”
“Yep.”
“And you think I’m capable enough?”
He gives me a look as if to say my question is not worthy of an answer.
“I would love to. Thank you.”
He beams. “Good. We’ll start officially next week.”
“So I guess that means you want me to stay longer than just a few months?” I tease. But then I get all jittery, because Daniel looks me straight in the eye.
“Chloe Beech, I want you to stay forever.”
I hold his gaze and reply with equal conviction.
“I want to stay forever too.”
Have you read Lightweight yet?
When Isla Greenwood discovers a nude photo of herself online, she immediately knows her ex-boyfriend is to blame. Worried that her family and work colleagues will discover its existence, she withdraws from everyone and turns to food to suppress her emotions.
Twenty-five kilos later, Isla has hit rock bottom and realises she needs the help of her fitness model cousin, Grace, to help get her back on track. But when Grace is injured, Isla finds she lacks the skills and motivation to continue her fitness regime on her own.
Fortunately, another saviour arrives in the form of Wes, a cute local personal trainer who convinces Isla to check out his gym.
Before long, Isla is rocking her new lifestyle and on the road to getting her old self back. But nothing worthwhile ever comes easy, and she soon finds herself battling a whole new set of challenges, including a rival at a competing gym, an increasingly stressful job, and her deepening feelings for an unpredictable Wes.
Will Isla ever resolve the chaos in her life and come out the other end healthy, happy and sane?
She sure hopes so.
(Read on for a sneak preview…)
PROLOGUE
No, no, please God, no.
It’s like a bad dream. A complete and utter nightmare.
I can’t take my eyes off it. That photo. Out there. Forever. On the internet.
Why isn’t there a delete button where you can just click on it and make it quietly disappear? Surely there should be some sort of emergency directive for situations like this.
WHY ISN’T THERE A WAY TO GET RID OF THIS ABOMINATION?
I highlight the photo as if it were part of a Word document and repeatedly stab the delete key on my keyboard. Of course I know how the internet works, but a tiny part of me hopes that this time the universe might help me out. Just this once.
Let me start by saying that I had never, EVER consented to having a nude photo taken before I met Guy. Hell, I’d never even taken one myself. I was always paranoid that some hacker would find it in the cloud if I took it with my phone, or use some fancy un-deleting software if I snapped it on my camera.
So to let Guy take that shot was a huge deal. Something I only agreed to because I thought he loved me, and because I assumed he would one day become my husband. And, what I feel is a reasonable expectation, husbands don’t usually go around posting naked photos of their wives online (unless you’re Kanye West, and then you make pretty good money uploading questionable images of your spouse to the internet).
I think I always knew on some deep, deep level our relationship was doomed, but it wasn’t until after Guy took the photo that I started to question our future. It’s a staggering admission to make to yourself that you might have married someone you knew was wrong for you, and that you would have just gone down the path of least resistance because it was the easiest choice.
Anyway. I came to my senses, and our break-up was surprisingly amicable. At least, that’s what I thought. But then, SIX WHOLE MONTHS later, here I am
clicking on a Google alert for my name (yes, I have a Google alert set up on my name) and I’m suddenly staring at a photo of myself lying buck naked on Guy’s bed. Face in full view. The pose leaving NOTHING to the imagination.
After a bit of investigating, I discover that the image is stored on a website notorious for hosting revenge porn, located in a country that doesn’t seem to care if people post unethical or illegal content.
And of course I know Guy is responsible. Because apart from actually taking the photo, he is insecure about his masculinity and can’t bear to not have the upper hand. I sort of expected something like this from him, but not so long after our split. It’s impossible to tell when the image was first uploaded, but from what I understand, Google alerts are sent out fairly promptly after a post.
I bury my face in my hands and try not to hyperventilate.
My life is over. I’m going to be a laughing stock. No one will ever take me seriously again. I won’t be able to become properly famous, because someone will find that photo and it will haunt me forever.
I contemplate moving to a country with highly restrictive internet access, but then realise it means I’ll probably end up somewhere like North Korea—and while I’ll no longer be able to see the photo, everyone else will still have access to it.
A mixture of rage, humiliation and despair washes over me. How do you get through something like this?
Well, I guess if you’re me, a good old fashioned food binge always helps suppress those uncomfortable feelings.
I need ice cream, stat.
ONE
Almost 25kg later . . .
I look down at the empty bowl in front of me and wonder why I’m still hungry. I have just finished a huge serving of creamy ravioli, but my body still wants dessert. I don’t know why, but I never feel like I’ve finished a meal until I’ve had something sweet at the end. I’ve discussed this with numerous people, and most agree it is a real phenomenon. One friend even theorised we have a secret second stomach, purely for treats.
I glance at my watch and discover I only have five minutes until my lunch break is over, so I’m going to have to skip the yummy Italian sweets on the restaurant’s menu and visit the 7-Eleven on the way back to my office instead.
Perfume Therapy Page 26