by Diana Fraser
Maddy reached through to the rear seat, grabbed Amber’s hand and squeezed it. “He’s probably busy. Arranging an exhibition for you at a prestigious gallery is hardly the sign of someone not interested in you.”
“I guess not. It’s just…”
“What?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. How can I know what I don’t know?”
Gabe’s brow lowered in confusion.
Maddy squeezed her hand. “You can’t. But he said he’s coming, didn’t he?”
Amber nodded.
“Then maybe you should ask him what it is you don’t know. Ask him why he’s holding back, what makes him come on strong one minute, and then back off the next.”
Gabe shot a quick smile at Maddy, obviously relieved that his beautiful wife was able to untangle Amber’s thought processes.
“You’re right, I will.”
Gabe wasn’t alone. Not for the first time Amber admired Maddy’s mind—scientific, but with a good helping of empathy, which made her able to decode muddled thoughts with razor-like accuracy, and help Amber focus. And she had only one focus now, to ask David what the hell was going on.
“What the hell’s going on?” asked Angus, entering the open-plan office at the top of the modern building, flooded with bright winter light.
David looked up from the papers, which he and an engineer had been checking over. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked him that very question in recent weeks, but then what did he expect when he put everything on hold for two weeks to do a major U-turn in his life?
“I think we’re done here,” he said to the engineer and then waited for him to leave the room, before he moved to the hard part of the U-turn.
“I’ve decided to keep the building.” He indicated the black house opposite which, despite its look of Victorian solidity, was anything but safe and secure. “I’m going to upgrade it.”
“What? Have you gone mad? I heard some rumors but thought my team had misunderstood. What’s going on? What’s changed?”
“I can’t make it public yet. There are all sorts of hoops I have to jump through with the council and resource and building consents first. But I’ve set them in motion.”
“And I repeat, what’s changed?”
“Everything.” He sat opposite Angus. “Everything,” he repeated.
“What, are you in love or something?” Angus laughed at the stupidity of the notion. Then he looked at David’s expression and his smile fell. “Jesus Christ, you are!” He jumped up and pushed his hair from his face. “I don’t believe this! You, David Tremayne, don’t have a soft bone in your body and yet you’re intent on changing the whole course of our work together because you’re in love? Who the hell is this paragon of virtue? Don’t tell me your back with Katherine again.” He shook his head. “Anyway, it can’t be her because there’s no way she’d want that old place kept as it is.”
David decided not to be drawn on the subject of love.
“It won’t be as it is. It’ll be renovated, renewed and improved.”
“It’ll cost a fortune.”
David shrugged. “I have a fortune, so there’s no problem, is there?”
“The problem is, David, that you’ll be doing something you’ve never done before—you’ll be wasting that fortune. If you carry on like this, you won’t have any money left.”
David knew that there was an outside chance Angus could be right, but there was a lightness to his spirit that made him not care. It was as if his whole world had shifted, giving him a different perspective on things. He’d literally changed direction and now all he could see was Amber—like a guiding light, pulling him towards her. And he knew that he was helpless to do anything other than surrender to that pull. Because it would bring him home.
“Can’t stop and chat,” he said with a grin to the bemused Angus. “I’ve an art exhibition to attend.”
Before Angus could remonstrate, David scooped his phone off his desk and walked out the door.
Amber looked around the exhibition space with wonder, tinged with doubt. She could hardly believe it was her work hung with such care under the expensive lighting on the walls. But she felt ill-at-ease. There was something not quite right and she couldn’t put her finger on it. David had managed to pull off something none of her family had been able to do and had got her an exhibition at the most exclusive inner-city gallery. So why did she feel so uncomfortable—like she was a gatecrasher and would be discovered at any moment?
Rachel followed her gaze. “This is amazing, Amber. Your work looks fabulous all grouped together like this.”
“Hm,” said Amber, “I guess.” She turned to her sister. “You don’t think it looks a bit odd in this setting?” She followed Rachel’s gaze around the immaculate gallery. Its exterior wall was glazed to allow clear light in, controlled by electronic eaves which extended according to the time of day and season. It had been described to her as high-tech, but the word ‘brutal’ sprung to her mind as she surveyed the interior gray cement walls upon which her pieces were hung.
“The gallery certainly has a different vibe to your work, but in some ways it’s kinda cool to have your bright paintings against such a stark background. It’s almost as if your work is passing comment on the cold gray of the interior.”
Rachel had lost Amber on the last point. “Yes, I guess,” she said doubtfully. “Anyway, no one else wanted it. I’ve asked the café a couple of times, but they don’t seem keen. They only want touristy pieces and my heart’s not in them.”
Rachel stroked Amber’s arm in a loving gesture. “I should think not. They’re too commercial for you. Your pieces are all about heart.”
“Heart is all very well, but some money would be good too,” she said plaintively.
Rachel turned her head suddenly as one of the gallery owners fixed a red dot beside a piece. “Looks like someone’s just bought that piece.” Amber turned with a squeal as they watched the owner move on to another piece with a red dot. Amber was too excited to squeal this time, Rachel did it for her instead. Soon they were following the owner around, watching as she placed a red dot on each and every piece.
Rachel gripped Amber’s arms. “You’ve sold out!”
“She has, indeed,” said the owner, coming up to them. “Congratulations! I’d be interested in seeing what else you have.”
Amber listened to the gallery owner talk about the current state of the art market before losing interest and checking over her shoulder to see if David had arrived. Luckily Rachel was on top schmooze form, and did the talking. As soon as Amber saw the familiar tall, broad outline enter the room she made a beeline for him, weaving her way through the crowd of people, half of whom she didn’t know. She wondered which of them had bought her work. She had no idea and didn’t really care.
Forgetting her intention to stay cool until she’d had a heart-to-heart with David, she gave him a big hug. “My work has sold out!”
David grinned. “That’s fabulous! What did I tell you?”
“The gallery owner has said she’s keen for more of my work.”
“Of course she is. This is the start of something big.”
“Oh.” Amber’s smile faltered. “I don’t know that I want anything big.”
“Well,” he said, “the start of something, anyway.” He plucked two champagne goblets from the tray of a passing waiter and handed her one. “Here’s to you, and success.”
How could she not be swayed by David’s version of success, with his seductive gaze captivating her? It wasn’t until sometime later that she remembered her doubts. The stranger who made her remember hadn’t bothered to return her polite smile. Instead, he’d turned a wry grin onto David as he pushed his way through to them.
“David!” said the stranger, clamping his hand onto David’s shoulder. David swung around and didn’t look overjoyed. “I’m surprised to see you here, with all this.” The man waved his glass of champagne at Amber’s artwork, spilling champagne on Rachel�
��s dress. David interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.
“Angus. And I’m surprised to see you here. Looks like you’re following me.”
Angus positioned himself as part of the group, glancing around before his eyes rested on Rachel, who looked as voluptuous and glamorous as ever in a figure-hugging red dress, her dark hair in big curls framing her face and cleavage. Rachel didn’t return Angus’s smile as she flicked off the champagne which had landed on her breast. Angus’s eyes dropped to her breasts and his smile widened.
Amber looked up to see Rachel’s husband, Zane, scowling at Angus from across the room.
Angus stuck out his hand to Rachel. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Angus, David’s partner in crime.” He didn’t elaborate.
Rachel reluctantly extended her hand. “Rachel Black.”
Despite Rachel’s tugging of her hand, Angus kept hold of it. He frowned. “Haven’t we met before somewhere? You look familiar.”
“I host a cookery program. Maybe you’ve seen it.”
“Oh yes!” Angus turned his back on Amber to get closer to Rachel. “Of course.” But before he could say anything further, Zane appeared.
David’s eyes creased into a small smile. “And I don’t think you’ve met Rachel’s husband before either, Angus. Zane Black.”
Angus turned and had to lift his eyes in order to meet Zane’s glowering look. “Ah,” he said shakily. He immediately moved away.
“I thought you were meeting with some clients at three,” said David.
“Yes, I said I’d be a little late.”
“I think you should go.” said David authoritatively. “They are important.”
Angus moved away but shot David a dirty look. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the business going while you have your change in direction. I don’t know why you’ve come here to this weird little exhibition. Sort of thing you’d find in a junk shop, if you ask me.”
Rachel gasped as Amber looked away with embarrassment, wishing the cold, gray concrete floor would open up and swallow her whole. But, even more distressingly, she felt he was right.
David shot Amber an anguished look, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “No one did ask you, Angus,” said David firmly, taking him by the arm and walking him away from Amber. Amber watched as David forcibly removed his partner from the exhibition.
“Who the hell was that idiot?” asked Zane, shifting from one foot to another, looking for all the world like he had when he played professional rugby with the All Blacks—as if he’d give anything to leap across the room and bring Angus down.
“Some friend of David’s, I think,” said Rachel, shifting closer to Amber. “Are you okay? He didn’t mean anything by it, you know. He was just annoyed with David, I think.”
“That’s right,” said David, suddenly appearing from behind Amber. “He was just trying to get back at me because he was annoyed that he had to work. That’s all it was.” His eyes were fixed on Amber. “That’s all. Besides, he wouldn’t know a work of art from his elbow.”
“So what are you doing with this idiot then, David?” asked Zane, still fuming quietly at both Angus’s ogling of Rachel, and his insulting of Amber.
“You know?” said David, taking another couple of goblets of champagne and passing one to Amber. “I’ve been wondering that myself the past few days.”
“I think I’ve seen him,” said Amber suddenly, frowning. “Going in and out of the building opposite EarthFoods.” She turned to Rachel. “You know, the building which the owners want to demolish.”
All eyes turned to David. He shrugged, his face in a neutral expression. “Don’t give Angus a further thought,” said David. “This is your day, Amber, and you have a sell-out exhibition.” He raised his glass and the others followed suit. “To Amber, may this be the first of many exhibitions. Christchurch today, Paris tomorrow.”
Rachel grinned and they all clicked glasses. “To Paris!”
Amber forced a smile onto her face. They were doing their best to wipe the insult from her mind. But they couldn’t entirely, for the doubt lingered. And so did something else. There was something nudging at the edges of her thoughts, something which made her uneasy. She couldn’t quite place it, but she would.
It was late by the time they left the exhibition.
“Let’s grab dinner somewhere, shall we everyone?” asked the ever-sociable Rachel.
Luckily for David, it was Amber who declined. “I’m pretty tired, thanks Rach, I think I might head home.”
“Would you like a lift?” David asked Amber.
She grinned up at him. “I thought you’d never ask.” She turned to the others. “See you! And thanks for coming.”
Rachel came over and tipsily pressed a lipsticked kiss on Amber’s cheek, which she then tried to rub off. Zane laughed and put his arm around Rachel. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
Amber stood in front of David—her face flushed with success, one small glass of champagne and the early evening sunshine on her face—and David thought she’d never looked more beautiful. “How is it you seem to glow?”
She laughed. “Do I? Maybe that’s why Mum and Dad called me Amber. Either that, or because I’ve got red hair.”
“Or maybe it’s because you’ve got lipstick on your cheek.” He tried to brush it off with his thumb, but she caught his hand and turned his palm to her lips and kissed it. To his surprise, the kiss held no gentle feeling, but a passion which he’d only suspected lay behind that sweet exterior. It seemed the warmth Amber emanated came from a fire within. And he was scared he wouldn’t be able to resist that fire.
“Come back to my place?” she asked, as she twisted around in his arms and put her hands around his neck. Of course his hands should rest around her waist. Where else?
“How can I resist you?” he murmured, as he brought his face a little closer to hers.
“I don’t know. I’m hoping you can’t.”
“Maybe,” he said, wondering if he could press his luck a little further, “I need a little more persuading.”
She cocked her head to one side, her hair brushing his cheek. He nuzzled his nose into her hair. She smelled of lemons and fresh air. He thought he could stand there forever with his face in her hair. But she giggled and pulled away. “Your breath is tickling me,” she said.
“I just want to go on smelling you,” he said.
“That sounds weird.”
“Not to me, it doesn’t.” He pulled himself together. “Now, shall we get back to Akaroa, if you’ve quite finished basking in your own glory?”
“Yes, I’d like that.” He took her hand and they walked to the car. “You know, I feel so happy. Everything is going so well,” she said with a big grin. “I’ve got my family. Dad’s well and happy with his amateur dramatics, all my brothers and sisters have found their soul mates and put their troubles behind them. And I’ve just had the best thing that could ever happen to me happen.” She glanced at David’s face and burst out laughing, tapping him lightly on the chest. “You think I mean you?”
“Why should I think that?” he asked, with his best indignant face, utterly determined to refuse to admit that he had.
“Because you’re a man,” suggested Amber. “I was actually referring to the fact that I’ve finally had an exhibition.” She turned around and walked backwards, her hand twisted across her body as she kept hold of his. She looked back at the art gallery. “And a swanky one at that. I still don’t really know why they agreed to the exhibition.” She glanced at him, and he looked away. “I mean, my work isn’t their usual kind.”
“Maybe they want variety,” he said. “Anyway, the point is that they did, and it was an amazing success.”
She turned around again and fell into step and squeezed his hand. “It was, wasn’t it?”
It seemed like the moment for another kiss and David was, for once, very happy to follow his instincts. He’d meant it to be brief, but they ended up stopping and kissing fo
r a few long moments, everything forgotten except each other. Eventually they parted to find people looking at them.
“Come on,” said David, mortified to find himself behaving like a love-sick teenager. What the hell had got into him? “Let’s get going.”
Amber didn’t seem to notice anything untoward. She beamed at the interested faces of passersby and carried on as if nothing had happened. But it had happened.
* * *
Amber had managed to capture his free hand as they drove back to Akaroa, and held it within hers, covering it and stroking it and planting little kisses on it. It should have made him feel silly, it should have made him run a mile, but it made him do none of these things. It brought out so many emotions within him that confused him. He didn’t know so many existed. But he recognized the principal among them—love. And the power of it floored him.
He’d loved his mother, and he loved his sister and brother. He’d loved his pet dog, who’d died the night before he left home. He’d only been hanging on for that dog. But, for the rest, his life had been occupied with work and pleasure, the most important of which had been work. Anything else had been a passing distraction to allow him to return to work refreshed. He’d never, in his life, experienced anything like the depth of these feelings before.
“How are you feeling?” asked Amber.
He smiled at her perspicacity. “Fine,” he said, and her face dropped a bit.
“Really? Just ‘fine’?”
“Yes, I feel good.”
“So, what have you been thinking about as we’ve been driving along—you’ve been very quiet?”
“I was thinking that I feel good.” But even as he said it, he’d realized that he was lying. He’d been thinking a whole lot more. He never lied. “You’re right. I was thinking that I really like you.” Again, the words were a weak reflection of his thoughts. It seemed that years of practice had been effective—he couldn’t describe his emotions even when he wanted to. He opened his mouth to speak but, instead, he shook his head.