Husband Sit (Husband #1) (33 page)

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Authors: Louise Cusack

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Dear
Jill Sitter

I
thought you’d like to know that your skills weren’t wasted on me. I’ve got a
new girlfriend and she’s totally hot. I wanted to get into her pants the moment
I met her, but I didn’t have the guts to ask her out. When you liked what we
did, and especially when I realized you’d come every night, I figured I had
something to offer. So I asked her out. We’ve been dating for a few weeks, and
yesterday we fucked. It was totally awesome, and she thinks I’m a sex god.

I’d
like to brag about that, but it’s all down to you. I just did what you taught
me that you liked, and she loved it.

Thank
you.

Really

Simon

 

His
email caused a momentary break in the clouds to let in some much-needed
sunlight, but I couldn’t stop myself circling back to the bad news: that my
sister was a thoughtless bitch, and the only man I was ever likely to fall
crazy in love with was having a baby with someone else. When I remembered that,
I was right back to square one.

I
didn’t book any more husband sitting jobs. I had enough self-love to realize I
needed a break, so I started looking for a housesit with cats. Something
relaxing and easy that would allow me to do secretarial work for a few weeks
while I settled my emotions down.

I
sent Sieu the twelve grand from Sasha’s husband sit to get things started, and
Fritha me sent excited texts with photos of the shop fit-out she was planning,
which looked even more bohemian and amazing than the designs Sieu had shown me.
But I made it clear in my replies to Fritha that I didn’t want to be involved.
My last one was:
Just make me money, honey. I don’t care how.

She
would get that joke.

Of
course, Ange and Missy Lou had no idea about my adulterous exploits, and that
was another reason to have a break for a while. But underlying everything was a
blood-sucking ennui that just maybe was bordering on depression. I preferred to
think of it as sad-with-benefits. Alcohol being the primary one.

In
any case, the ‘catch up’ weekend rolled around and I was none the wiser about
Missy Lou’s motives in getting us all together. She just kept saying “It’s
time.” If I’d cared more, I would have pursued it, but I didn’t. So I looked
forward to the only good thing about it that I could imagine—Doug complimenting
Ange and making her feel good about herself—and maybe putting a rocket under
Donny’s chubby ass.

I
wasn’t looking forward to seeing Fritha, much as I loved her. She’d be bubbling
with excitement about the shop, and it would be impossible to hide the fact
that I couldn’t care less. I wanted to be happy that she was happy, but some
rebellious ‘victim’ part of me felt that her happiness was coming at my
expense.

Which
was utter bullshit. Everything about my situation was down to my own choices.
However, despite my self-pity, I did feel a glimmer of satisfaction that I’d
done things to make my friends happier. I’d helped Ange feel sexy again. I’d
created Fritha’s dream work environment. And I’d agreed to attend Missy Lou’s
soiree weekend, despite having no clue what it was about.

I
could see she needed me, so I determined that I would co-host with her, and
that would give me an excuse to hide in the kitchen when the blahs got too bad.
By Friday at seven pm—the designated time for guests to arrive—Louella and I
were decked out in full length gowns from her oversized dressing room. Mine was
old gold Hollywood glamour with bare arms and beading all the way from neck to
hips, with the heaviest gold satin falling from there to my ankles. I was
taller than Missy Lou, so the dress was short on me and I went for gold
sandals, much to her disapproval. However I did put my hair up into a simple
coil, and with Missy Lou’s heavy eyeliner in place, I had to admit I looked
glamorous.

Hers
was silver: a classic Grace Kelly strapless satin sheath with a chiffon
overskirt. Missy Lou normally wore her hair down, but tonight it was swept into
a classic upstyle. I’d never seen her looking more elegant, or more fragile. We
sat on the back terrace with its hundreds of fairy lights overlooking Sydney Harbor,
drinking Pimm's. It wasn’t my favorite, but I was determined to be
accommodating. If necessary, I could hit the whisky later.

Marcus,
who’d arrived home late from work, much to Missy Lou’s disapproval, joined us
only seconds before the doorbell rang. They sent me to get it, presumably so
they could row in private.

Unfortunately
for me, it was Doug.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN: Something Old, Something New

Dear old
Doug stood on the doorstep with his goofy smile and his one-size-too-big ears,
wearing an ill-fitting grey suit with a pink shirt and tie. I don’t think I’d
ever seen anyone look more awkward, and it immediately made me feel better.

“Jinx,
you look stunning,” he said, taking in my golden gown, but he held back from a
hug, and because you don’t shake hands with people you’ve fucked, we were stuck
with a close-quarters hand-wave greeting.

I
tried to shake off the awkwardness. “Louella’s wardrobe,” I said, then nodded
at him. “You look like you’ve been trying on suits at a thrift shop and bought
the cheapest one.”

His
eyes widened momentarily. Then he burst out laughing. “Okay. I’m crap at
fashion.”

“Tell
me about it.” I was glad I’d managed to break the ice. I gestured for him to
enter. “Lucky no one’s judging here. Or at least, not judging our apparel.”

He
came in and closed the door behind himself. “What are they judging?”

I
shook my head. “Happily families? I don’t know.” We stared at each other a
moment before I forced myself to say, “I know why you were invited, Doug.
Marcus is match-making. But why did you come?” I wanted to add
surely you
don’t imagine we’ll get back together?
But I remembered Angela’s opinion
about that and held my tongue. Maybe I was being egotistical.

It
took him a minute to answer. “I’ve been lonely,” he said at last and glanced
away. Then he met my eyes again. “You always had better friends than me.”

“I
know.”

“I
missed them. And of course I miss you.”

Somehow,
that wasn’t awkward. It was honest, and it softened me enough to say, “Yeah. It’s
been weird for me too. But...I’m moving forward.”

“Me
too.” He nodded. “This isn’t a step backward for me. I want it to be closure.”

That
made me frown. “In what way?”

Unfortunately,
I didn’t get to hear his reply because Marcus came up behind me and said,
“Doug! My man!” in that booming over-enthusiastic voice he affected when he was
being ‘the host’.

Doug
smiled apologetically at me and stepped forward to shake Marcus’s hand, looking
genuinely pleased to see him. If there had been any sexual awkwardness between
them in the past, they hid it well.

Missy
Lou cruised up behind Marcus and said, “Douglas. Thank you for coming.”

Doug
went quiet. Men were always intimidated by Missy Lou. But he stepped forward
for the obligatory cheek-kiss, before saying, “Thanks for inviting me Louella.
That was gracious. I’m not part of your circle—”

“Nonsense,”
Marcus cut in, as if he’d heard enough chatter. “Let’s get a drink, eh?” He
nodded toward the terrace where Louella’s housekeeper had set up the bar before
she’d left.

Doug
smiled apologetically at Missy Lou and me, then he let himself be led.

When
the boys were gone I said, “That wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be.”

Louella
had followed them with her gaze, which was completely unreadable. “I’m glad
it’s easy for
you.

I
didn’t miss the inflection, or the fact that the glass in her hand was empty.
It had been full when I’d left her two minutes ago. I could draw my own
conclusions about who was having trouble with Doug’s visit.

I
decided she needed a distraction, so I grabbed her hand. “Let’s heat the food.
I’m sure someone will eat it.”

She
nodded absently and followed me into the kitchen, but we’d barely begun to pull
trays of expensive appetizers out of her huge refrigerator when the doorbell
rang again.

“I’ve
got it,” I said, and left her to sort out what to serve first.

It
was either Fritha and whatever hippy friend she’d dragged along, or Ange and
Donny—who I had to remember to call
Danny
. I’d done well so far, but....

I
tucked stray strand of hair behind my ear and opened the door.

On
Finn
.

My
stomach went into a tailspin, but he was frowning. “You’ve lost weight.”

He
looked amazing in a simple charcoal suit. His white shirt and tie showed off
his glorious tan, and every lustful thought I’d imagined was worn away by
boring sex came rushing back. I wanted to run my fingers into that honey hair
and kiss him until someone put a hose on us. And I wanted to tell him I would
never love anyone the way I loved him. It was beyond aching.

I
couldn’t even manage to say his name.

We
just stared at each other until Fritha stepped into view beside him in a
fluttering rainbow bridesmaid dress and took his arm. “Jinx. Look who I
brought.”

As
quickly as heat had overtaken me, icy fingers of horror closed over my exposed
heart. I blinked at her, telling myself this wasn’t happening. Only, it was. My
bestie, and the man I adored, together.

“Frith,”
I whispered, unable to stop my gazing returning to Finn, probably with anguish
written all over my face. Strangely, the hot jealousy was gone. In its place
was a fatalistic acceptance that life was going to shit over me and I couldn’t
stop it. I’d pushed him away. She’d let him in.

It
was easy to see who deserved him.

Before
I could comment on their coupledom, she let him go and launched herself at me
so I gave her an autopilot hug, one hand patting her bony shoulder-blade while
my gaze devoured Finn, wishing I could turn back time and somehow have not
fucked this up.

Fritha
pulled out of the hug and shook me until I transferred my gaze to her. I noted
for the first time that she’d created some five-second version of an updo with
a plastic silver tiara poked into the front. It was spilling red ringlets down
her back. “I brought Finn because you’re too much of a fuckwit to admit you belong
together.” She grinned, and then danced off barefoot to find Missy Lou.

Did
that mean...they weren’t an item?

Finn
stayed in the doorway, starting to look uncomfortable.

I
realized I was holding my breath and I let it out in a rush. “You’re not with
Fritha?”

He
shook his head. “We’ve had that discussion.”

“Then...”
He glanced past me to the inside of the house and I suddenly realized I was
being rude. I immediately stepped back and said, “Come in,” telling myself that
as co-hostess it was my job to make everyone feel comfortable, no matter who
they were or why they’d come. But now that I had my mouth working, I couldn’t
help saying, “Why did you come?”

“Not
because you’re a fuckwit,” he said softly. Then he smiled that slow, sexy smile
that completely undid me. “Frith asked me to, and...I was prepared to risk
complete rejection just to see you again. Even if it’s only for five minutes
before you throw me out.”


Finn
.”
Missy Lou came up behind me and touched my arm, saying softly to me, “Why are
you leaving guests in the doorway?” She stepped forward and took Finn’s arm,
all silver chiffon and gracious smiles. “This way,” she said to him. “I’ll
introduce you to my husband Marcus.”

I
could only shut the door and trail behind them, unable to stop myself loving
the way he walked, the breadth of his shoulders and way his suit pants hugged
that gorgeous ass. It wasn’t until we reached the terrace and I stepped in
behind them that my gaze landed on Doug and I snapped out of my sensual haze.

Fuck.

Missy
Lou was making introductions, and I side-stepped so I could see everyone’s
faces. Doug seemed happy to shake Finn’s hand when he was introduced as
Fritha’s friend. But Finn’s reaction to hearing Doug’s name was a sharp
contrast. I couldn’t miss the sudden stiffness in his shoulders, or the fact
that he let Doug’s hand go as quickly as was polite.


The
Doug, I presume,” he said, and leveled an icy glance at me.

Bless
Doug, he didn’t get it. He just smiled his goofy smile. “Finn and Fritha.
That’s cute.” As if they were a couple. He’d always been clueless when it came
to social niceties.

Missy
Lou stepped into the gap, moving Finn on to introduce him to Marcus who Fritha
had cornered at the bar, no doubt with an order for some bizarre cocktail. My
earlier maneuvering left me with Doug, which wasn’t what I wanted.

He
stepped over to me. “They make a nice pair.” He looked genuinely pleased for
Fritha. “Although I’d always expected her to be with someone more...alternative.”

I
stepped closer and lowered my voice. “They’re just friends, Doug.”

“Oh.”
He seemed nonplussed, and some protective urge made me say, “It’s okay. It
doesn’t matter. We’re
all
friends here, remember.”

He
surprised me by winking, “No judging, I remember.”

I
turned in time to see Finn glaring at me, and I deliberately took a step away
from Doug. An embarrassing silence settled between us until the doorbell rang,
and I said, “I’ve got it!” before anyone else could move. I left Doug to find
his own conversations, and picked up the hem of my dress and scampered for the
door, wondering if I should grab my keys on the way and just keep going. That
would solve a lot of problems, only, when the door opened I found Angel on the
front porch, alone, looking sadder than I’d ever seen her.

She’d
dressed for the occasion in a stunning red and gold sari that set her hundreds
of gold bangles off beautifully. Her long dark hair tumbled down her back and
her elegant gold earrings made her throat look impossibly long.

“You
look amazing,” I said, and pulled her inside. “Where’s Donny?”

“Away
for the weekend,” she said, and gazed at me meaningfully.

Oh
shit.
“With...work?”

She
shook her head. “This is it, Jinx,” she said softly. “He’s definitely cheating
on me. He told me it was a weekend with his cousins, fishing. So I rang them.”

“Good
for you!” I clasped her arms, wanting to hug her but knowing she needed to get
this out.

“They’re
all staying home to watch cricket. And they haven’t heard from him in weeks.”

“Bastard.”

She
nodded. “But I’m glad I know. It’s better than wondering. It feels...less
hopeless.” She blinked, clearly on the edge of tears.

I
couldn’t wait any longer then and I pulled her into a hug. She clung to me,
whispering against my ear, “I’m so scared, J. What will I do?”

“I
don’t know.” I stroked her hair. “But we’ll figure it out together.” I wished
futilely then that I had my own home, so I could take her to it. We could hide
out together and make plans. Then she wouldn’t have to go back to her house and
face the cheating bastard when he got home. But I didn’t have a house. So I
pulled back from the hug and said, “We could move in on Fritha. Drive her
nuts.”

That
made Ange smile, albeit a trembling one. Then I thought of the perfect
distraction. I grabbed her hand. “But wait, there’s more. Both Doug
and
Finn
are out on the back terrace, and Doug thinks Finn is with Fritha.”

Ange’s
eyes went wide. “Finn...
your Finn
...from Newcastle?”

God
how I loved hearing her say he was mine. If only the situation was different and
he could be. “The same. And he knows exactly who Doug is. Plus, he looks
jealous.”

Ange’s
eyes lit up in a quick-switch to matchmaker mode. “Which one do you want?”

I
glanced back through the house to make sure we weren’t being overheard, then I
lowered my voice anyway. “I’m completely desperate to fuck Finn behind
Louella’s hedge, but he’s got a baby on the way, so that’s out of the question,
right?”

“So
you say. I’m not so sure.”

“I
gave him right of reply—”

“But
did you listen?” she said, as if she was my mother. “I know you, J. You’re
pig-headed.”

“Pot
kettle!”

We
frowned at each other for a couple of seconds, at an impasse, so it was
possibly a relief when Missy Lou came up behind us
tisking.

“What
is it with you and holding guests at the door? Angela.” She wrapped Ange in
what looked like a heartfelt hug.
I hadn’t seen her do that for a while.
Then she pulled back and looked out to the front patio. “Daniel?”

“Fishing,”
I cut in, and smiled. “She’s a single girl tonight.”

Louella
frowned and I could read her like a book. She desperately wanted to say
Oh
dear, an odd number at dinner,
but she managed to hold that in. “Come and
see the others.” She took Ange’s arm and led her away, saying over her shoulder
to me, “And I want an explanation for what Fritha’s babbling on about, you
financing her business. How did you afford that?”

Fuck.

Why
did I not think
that
through more carefully?

Luckily
for me, Louella was intent on being a good hostess as she led us through the
house and out onto the glittering terrace where Ange slipped her hand into mine
and I squeezed it. She had her chin up, but I could see what the smile was
costing her. Then Fritha pounced on her for a stick-insect hug, Doug was
stuttering about how beautiful she looked, and Marcus was putting a cold Chardy
in her hand—Ange’s favorite—and I felt my shoulders relax. If I could shut down
Fritha and keep Louella distracted, it was going to be okay.

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