The Morning After The Wedding Before (13 page)

‘I’m trying to. I
do
,’ she corrected, and gave a half-laugh. ‘Force of habit. I’m not used to others sharing my enthusiasm, and I’m still getting accustomed to the different mind-set.’ Setting her palms on the table, she leaned forward with a grin. ‘Of
course
you have confidence in my products; why wouldn’t you? They’re the best you ever tried, right?’

‘Right.’ He grinned back. ‘We’ll make a start tonight,’ he decided. ‘I’ll come over when you get home and we’ll make plans.’

Emma took another sip of cool fruity wine while she thought about his ideas. She didn’t want to let him—or herself—down, especially when he was so busy. Surely she could try it on her own? Even if she just let him help her with the IT side of things? ‘You’re very generous with your time, Jake. As if you haven’t got enough to do with your practice and winding up the club. Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure. I want to help you any way I can.’

‘Cherry obviously thinks you’re pretty wonderful too.’

He looked slightly stunned. ‘You know Cherry?’

‘I recognised her from the club. I didn’t know she had a child, though. I guess you don’t think of people in that industry as being mums and having otherwise ordinary lives. She looked pretty down …’ She waved a hand. ‘Sorry, it’s none of my business.’

‘Cherry and her kid were evicted from their accommodation a couple of weeks ago. She came to me for help.’

Emma understood that feeling, that desperation, all too well. She’d had to work after school to help pay the bills when her mum had been too depressed to get out of bed for weeks on end. ‘That’s a horrible, gut-wrenching feeling,
and even worse with the added responsibility of a child. What about women’s shelters?’

‘Do you have any idea how many homeless people there are in Sydney?’ His expression changed, and his eyes met hers with an understanding she’d not expected. ‘Maybe you do.’

Emma nodded. ‘It wasn’t that desperate with us, but it so easily could have been. So Cherry came to you?’ She remembered the woman’s tremulous and relieved voice outside Jake’s office. Cherry saw the kind of man Emma saw. An approachable man, an honest man, someone she could trust to help her and her child in a time of desperate need. A man who was generous with his time and expertise. ‘It shows how highly she thinks of you.’

But he shook his head as if it was nothing. ‘She needed a place for the night, for herself and Kevin. I told her there was a room at the back of the club she could use until we sorted something out. She’s staying there for the time being.’

‘If anyone can help it’ll be Jake Carmody.’

They didn’t talk for a moment while they sampled more of the delicious food. ‘So … who looks after Kevin when Cherry’s working?’ Emma asked between mouthfuls.

Jake chose a prawn, peeling it carefully while he answered. ‘The girls take shifts. They’re a tight bunch. Protective. Mostly they’re just people trying to make a living the best and sometimes the only way they know how.’

Emma didn’t miss the slightly defensive tone. As if he had a personal interest or understanding. She speared a piece of pickled octopus. ‘So what happens next? Obviously that can’t work for ever.’

‘I’ve bought a place. It needs some work, but I’m using the sale of the club to finance it. Temporary accommodation
for people like Cherry to stay until they get themselves on their feet. I’ve asked Cherry if she’ll run it. It’ll get her out of the club scene.’

She took a moment to consider his words before she answered. He seemed so sure—as if he’d thought this through over a long period of time. ‘This is very important to you.’

Jake nodded, selecting another crab claw, snapping it open. Damn right it was. It was the only good thing to come out of his inheritance: an ability to make a change for the better. If he only helped one person it would be worth it.

‘I’ve been around that strip club for a big chunk of my life, Emma. Seeing women and their kids come and go. Seeing their lack of power over their own circumstances, the hopelessness in their eyes. Wanting to do something to break the cycle. That’s why I went into law. I may not have had the world’s best upbringing, but I’ve turned it around, I think.’

He saw her shift closer, elbows on the white tablecloth, her fresh, clean fragrance wafting towards him. ‘I reckon you have,’ she said softly. ‘You should be careful, Jake, a girl could fall hard for a guy like you.’

His head shot up. Her eyes … Maybe, just
maybe
, there was a hint of those for ever stars in that blue sparkle? He shredded another prawn while his heart tumbled strangely. ‘Not a girl like you, Emma. You’re too smart.’

The little crease dug between her brows as she popped an olive in her mouth. ‘Why not a girl like me?’

Careful
. The last thing Emma needed right now was another crack in that heart. ‘We’re both career types, you and me,’ he said, avoiding her gaze. ‘Work hard, play hard.’

But were good times all he really had in common with
Emma? He’d never discussed the club or his upbringing or his reasons for his choice of career with anyone. Not even Ryan. Though his mate knew of his father’s business they’d never talked about it. Yet he’d talked about it with Emma. But she didn’t need to know his whole life history.

Shaking the thoughts away, he lifted his glass, drained his wine, then said, ‘Tell me more about this shop you’ve discovered that’s going to help send your new career soaring …’

Emma drove home, her mind abuzz. The new shop was happy for her to promote her products with a display—this coming Friday evening, no less, to coincide with their first week of trading.

Jake was the only one who’d ever shown an interest and inspired her to take the plunge. Jake’s encouragement and support had lifted her spirits and caught her enthusiasm. With his help she might just be able to make it work. Correction: she
would
make it work.

With his help so many people were better off, she thought. She thought too, how he’d chosen a career so he could help people like Cherry—the girls and their plights had made a lasting impression on him.

Because he’d grown up around the strip club. For how long? she wondered. Had his mother been a stripper? How long had it been since he’d seen her? She remembered the fleeting expression in his eyes when he’d spoken of her, just once, on the night of the hens’ party—at odds with the casual indifference in his voice.

She hadn’t let herself become interested in his past because what they had was based around the present. But now she simply couldn’t ignore it. His past had shaped him
into the man he was. He might be fun-loving, casual and outgoing but there were shadows there too.

She switched direction and headed for his place. There was so much more she wanted to know.

E
MMA
pressed the intercom on the wall outside Jake’s home. ‘It’s me,’ she said, when he answered. ‘Let me in.’

The gate slid open and by the time she’d reached the door Jake was waiting for her, naked but for a towel low around his hips. ‘I thought we arranged to meet at your place, but if you’ve come to share my shower …’ His sexy grin faded when he realised she wasn’t smiling back. ‘Something wrong? Didn’t it work out with the new clients?’

‘No, no, nothing like that. It went well, really well, and I’ll tell you about it later. But …’ She waved a hand. ‘Can we talk?’

He gestured her inside. ‘Let’s go to the living room.’

She followed him, then went to the window and looked out at the sea while she took a calming breath. She didn’t know how it was going to go. Whether he’d resent her for what he might see as an intrusion on his privacy. But this was too important to ignore.

‘I’ve been thinking about what you said this afternoon,’ she said slowly. ‘About Cherry and the place you’ve bought. How important it is to you.’

‘It is, yes. Is that a problem for you?’

‘Of course not.’ She turned to face him. ‘But why buy
a place? Why be personally involved? Why not give to a homeless charity instead?
Why
is it so important?’

Jake listened to her rapid-fire questions while he dragged in a slow, slow breath. Having Emma come into his life was one of the most life-changing events he’d ever experienced. To his surprise, he discovered he wanted to answer them, to have her listen and understand. His only concern was if once he started he might not be able to stop.

He crossed the room, gripped her shoulders loosely and steered her towards the couch. ‘Sit down.’ He sat down beside her, fisted his hands on his thighs. Took another breath. ‘I lived there, Emma. The back of that strip club was home sweet home. So I know first-hand what it’s like to be powerless.’

‘Oh … Jake.’ She lifted a hand, thought better of it and drew it back. ‘How long?’

He shifted a shoulder, always uncomfortable with sympathy. But that wasn’t what she was offering. Just support and a willingness to listen with an open mind. He’d never realised he’d needed it until now.

He gazed through the windows into the deepening twilight. ‘I was five when Mum left in the middle of the night. I hadn’t started school yet. I had no friends. Can’t blame her, Earl cheated on her as regular as clockwork. She worked late-night shifts cleaning offices, so I saw all sorts come and go at our apartment. One night she just didn’t come home. It was like losing an arm.’ Or a heart.

Emma didn’t speak, but he felt her reaching out to him with streamers of warmth that touched the dark, secret places inside him.

‘It was lonely and isolating—after all, I could hardly ask schoolmates to come over and play. As I grew up I understood what had happened, and I swore I’d never be like
him
.’ His fists tightened against his thighs. ‘But the
one person I’d counted on, the one person I’d loved and trusted, left me there. She didn’t take me with her and it hurt like hell.’

He felt her hands cover his fists and looked into her moisture-sheened eyes.

‘Your mum stayed in a loveless marriage, Emma, but she stayed. Even a mum who gives you grief is better than no mum at all—at least yours had some compassion, some sense of loyalty. But then, that’s my opinion. We’re always going to see it from our own perspective.’

‘How do you know she went to South America?’ she said softly. ‘Did she come back for you?’

‘She sent a postcard once, when I was ten. New continent, new husband, new life. Anyway, after she’d left Earl didn’t see the point in paying rent on two places and we moved in to the back of the club. At least I had a roof over my head and food in my belly.’

‘A child living in the back of a strip club?’ Her eyes changed—ice over fire—and she exhaled sharply. ‘The authorities? Didn’t they ever catch up with Earl?’

He shrugged, remembering times when he’d been ferried to some stranger’s home in the middle of the night. ‘Earl was clever. Always one step ahead. It wasn’t so bad,’ he went on. ‘The girls used to make me breakfast sometimes before they went home. They helped me with my homework. Substitute mums of sorts.’

‘Your young life must have been very confusing. How did you cope with it all?’

He wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. ‘Kept to myself. Studied. Swore one day I’d get out. I was seventeen when I left and found a part-time job and a room to rent.’

‘I’ll never understand a mother leaving her own flesh and blood.’

He remembered the despair and heartbreak he’d seen too often in his mother’s eyes. The guilt that had tormented his youth. The pain of that rejection and abandonment he’d never really got past. ‘Because when she looked at me she saw him.’

‘Ah …’ She shifted closer, the fresh, untainted scent of her skin filling his nostrils. ‘But you’re
not
him. And she’s missed out on knowing someone amazing.’ She combed her fingers over the back of his hair. ‘You’re kind and generous and thoughtful. You’re also a man of integrity, and don’t let anyone tell you different or make you feel less or they’ll have me to deal with.’

A band tightened around his heart. Even knowing his past, she didn’t judge. ‘Using my inheritance to pay for a safe house is one way of addressing the injustice. My mother didn’t benefit, but others will.’

‘You’re one special guy, you know that?’ Her compassionate blue gaze cleared and brightened, and she touched the side of his face with gentle fingers.

He hauled her against him so he could feel her generous warmth against the cold. ‘I need that shower.’ He needed the water’s cleansing spray and her caring hands to rid himself of unwanted memories. Memories that no longer had a place in his life. He closed his eyes. ‘You want to wash my back?’

‘Does that mean I have to get naked too?’

He drew in a breath and opened his eyes. She was smiling. He touched her hair. ‘Unless you want to drive home dripping wet or wearing my bathrobe.’

‘Yeah, there’s that. Whatever would I do if the car broke down on the way?’

Or you could stay here …

Only he didn’t say it. She might be ready to hear it now,
but he didn’t want rejection of any kind tonight. He undid the top button of her blouse. ‘You
want
to get naked too?’

‘Try stopping me. You know what?’ She pressed her lips to his chest. ‘I even have some spare soap left over in my bag from this afternoon’s meeting.’ She opened her mouth and flicked out her tongue, leaving a damp trail as she worked her way up to his Adam’s apple then his chin. ‘There’s a new fragrance I’m trialling …’ She let her hands wander over his hips, drawing tight little circles through the terry towel with her fingers. ‘Eygptian nights. Musk and sandalwood.’

‘First Tahiti. Now the East. A round-the-world tour, huh?’

She grazed her fingers over his hardening erection. ‘More like a journey of discovery,’ she whispered, drawing the towel away. ‘Just the two of us.’ She reached behind her neck, unfastening her zip and sliding it down so that her dress slipped to the floor. Stepped out of her panties and unsnapped her bra, tossed it away. ‘One back scrub coming up.’

At Emma’s place later that evening, Jake worked with her on a website design for Naturally Emma. They drank instant coffee and ordered business cards and composed her website pages. It helped take their minds off the earlier conversation. There was a new understanding, a comfortable silence between them as they worked.

Emma took shots of her products for Jake to upload to her computer. She was literally bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm. And nerves. ‘Where will I put the extra stock?’

‘You’ll find a place. I have an empty room under the house if you need it.’

‘What if this thing explodes? How will I keep up?’

‘Now,
that’s
the confidence I like to hear.’ He smiled at her, the computer screen’s glow reflecting the encouragement etched on his expression. ‘You’ll give up your day job and employ someone to help you.’ He stretched his arms over his head, then reached out to take her hand. ‘You’ll be fine. If you need help I’m here.’

She breathed deep. ‘You don’t know how much it means to have you in on this with me, if only to get me started.’

As usual, he shrugged off the praise. ‘No worries. I’ll have the website ready for you to look at tomorrow night.’

When Jake left, she worked on into the wee hours. She made a start on some mini soap samples and selected a collection for display.

The following day Emma took off in her lunchbreak to slip further down the mall and make arrangements with the shop, collected her business cards from the printer, then caught up with Jake in the evening and approved the website.

Naturally Emma
. She stared at the screen, biting her lips, hardly able to believe it was really happening. The lavender background with elegant flowing script and artistic design. The photos. The little piece about her background and qualifications that she’d composed.

‘Only two nights to go,’ she said, hugging her arms.

‘I’ll be here to pick you up,’ he said, rising. ‘But I need to get going. I’ve got some of my own work to catch up on.’

‘I’m sorry. I’ve monopolised your time.’

‘Not at all. Glad I could help.’ He pulled her up for a quick kiss. ‘Get some sleep.’

The mall was bustling with late-night shoppers when Emma and Jake carried her boxes in at five-thirty on Friday evening. Lights gleamed on the shiny store windows,
the smell of roasting nuts and popcorn mingled with perfumes and hair treatments. Elevator music tinkled in the background, along with the ever-present underlying tide of urban chatter.

Kelsey, the shop’s proprietor, had set up a table for the products just inside the entrance, and was serving a customer as they arrived. She smiled and waved when she saw them.

‘I’ve got a severe case of killer butterflies,’ Emma told Jake as she pulled stock from her box and began arranging it on the table. Her hands weren’t steady, her pulse was galloping, and she really, really wanted something to moisten her dust-dry throat. ‘What if no one stops by?’

‘Looking at you, why wouldn’t they?’

She glanced at Jake over her box. He was smiling at her, his eyes full of encouragement. He believed in her, she couldn’t let him down. She couldn’t let herself down. ‘I’d rather they look at the products, but thanks.’ She swallowed. ‘Would you mind getting me a bottle of water? I forgot mine.’

‘Sure.’ He put down the box he’d been emptying. ‘Back in a moment.’

Kelsey, with curly red hair and moss-green eyes behind her rimless glasses, stepped up as Jake walked away. ‘Your guy’s a superstar.’

Her guy
. Emma started to deny it then stopped. Her heart took a flying leap. Yes, she realised. He was. ‘None of it would’ve happened without his support.’ She drew out a cellophane-wrapped basket full of soaps and held it out. ‘This is for you. You can take them home, give them to friends. Whatever. I hope your new venture’s a success.’

‘Oh, Emma, thank you. It’s beautiful.’ Kelsey admired the basket with a smile, turned it in her hands. ‘I think we’ll both do well. People look for natural products these
days. I’ll leave it here for now, so customers can see it. Thanks so much. Oh, I’ve got a customer …’

Jake slowed as he arrived back, then stopped, watching Emma talk to a couple of elderly ladies. The shop’s down-lights glinted on her glossy dark hair. She wore the same white top she’d worn for the hens’ night, with a slim white knee-length skirt. Tasteful, professional. A chunky gold bracelet jangled on one wrist as she gesticulated.

She’d ditched the nerves, obviously, and was deep in animated conversation, smiling, eyes alive with friendly interest. Calm, in control, and the sexiest girl in the mall. In all of Australia. How different was this Emma from the Emma he’d seen wearing that top only two weeks ago?

He felt a twinge around his heart—he seemed to be getting a lot of those lately—and his fingers tightened on the red foil balloon with its twirling ribbons he’d purchased on impulse after remembering her edict about no flowers.

He shook his head. No matter what she said, Emma was a woman made for hearts and flowers and pretty words, and he was discovering, to his surprise, that he wanted very badly to give them to her. Because, unlike with his previous lovers, with Emma they would mean something more than traditional and often empty gestures.

He watched her pack soaps into a bag, pass it to one of the women with a smile as they handed over their cash. They continued down the mall. Then a guy in a snazzy business suit stopped at her table.

Jake watched Emma smile some more. Watched her flick back her hair as she talked. Pretty boy leaned closer, head tilted to one side, listening. Nodding. He picked up a soap flower and held it to his nose.

Jake scowled and wasted no time making his way to her table. ‘Sorry I took so long, honey.’ Slight emphasis
on the endearment as he handed her the balloon and her water, then nodded at Mr Businessman. ‘How’s it going, mate?’ He stuck out his hand. ‘Jake Carmody. Emma’s accountant.’

The man shook his hand. ‘Daniel McDougal.’

Beside Jake, Emma made a noise at the back of her throat, setting water and balloon aside. ‘Thanks.’ Then she darted him a disconcerted glance. ‘Jake, Daniel is from Brisbane. He owns a large health food chain and is interested in trialling my products up there.’

‘That sounds great.’ Jake nodded again. ‘I’ll let you two get on with it, then.’ He dropped a firm hand on Emma’s shoulder, let it linger a few seconds longer than necessary. ‘If you need me, my phone’s on. I’ll be back to help you pack up.’

‘My accountant?’ Emma said on the way home.

‘Yeah.’ Why the hell had he got so proprietorial back there? He didn’t
do
proprietorial. He dismissed the unsettling notion from his mind and concentrated on the traffic. ‘Because I’m coming over on Monday night to look over your financial records,’ he said. If this was going to take off, Emma needed someone she trusted from the get-go to help her manage the financial side.