Lucy was dying or at least she was pretty sure she was. The stabbing pains in her head mixed with the rampant nausea in her gut were sure signs that her life was over. But there was also that incessant ringing as though she were beneath the huge brass bells in a church tower.
It took a long time for her to realize that the tune resembled that of her cell phone, just more thunderous, as though it was echoing loudly off the walls of a great cavern. She tried sitting up without much luck, so instead crawled on her belly, her short cotton pajama set stretching as she moved. Her eyes closed to the pain, she inched her way to the other side of the mattress.
At least she recognized where she was now. She’d somehow managed to make it back to her townhouse after last night. It was only supposed to have been a couple of drinks, something she hadn’t had time for in ages. Her friends had insisted, almost begged her to come out with them, it had been so long. Then, at the discovery of her little secret, a few drinks had become a bender. Pausing, her head swimming, sickening dizziness consuming her, she wondered how she had let it get so bad?
Once she’d finally reached the side of the bed, she stretched a slender arm over the edge, searching blindly for her leather handbag. Almost as soon as she’d found it, the ringing stopped.
“Damn it,” she said, then immediately regretted it when her head boomed painfully with the sound of her own words.
She slumped further against the soft cushioning of the sheeted mattress until she felt as though the two had merged and she too, was now cushy softness. An instant of peaceful silence and stillness passed where she began to wonder if her rough night and subsequent hangover were just a karmic dream for her bad friendship skills, but then the ringing began again.
With a frustrated sigh, in which she became worried a little more might leave her lips than just her breath, she reached again for her phone. Once it was in her hand, she squinted open her eyes and clicked a button to answer the call. Realizing that she didn’t have the strength to move her hand back to her ear, she switched the call to loudspeaker.
“Are you there? Lucy!” Steph’s voice shrieked loudly, filling the bedroom and Lucy’s head with sharp, stabbing sounds.
“Ugh. Steph.” Lucy groaned before smooshing her face back into the soothing embrace of the mattress.
“Lucy? You sound really far away.” Steph’s tone became concerned.
Forcing herself to lift her heavy head and prop her chin on a nearby pillow, Lucy groaned. “How are you awake? And how are you not dead?”
“What? Oh, last night. You really should go drinking with us more often, Luce. You’re really out of practice.”
Steph’s laughter seemed to pound through Lucy’s eardrums like the rhythmic thump of a subwoofer. Lucy groaned in agony.
“What do you want? Tell me already so I can hang up and go back to bed.”
“Rude, much?” Steph laughed again. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”
Lucy listened as Steph suddenly paused. She couldn’t tell if she was struggling to find the right words, trying to build anticipation, or if she was about to give her some terrible news, but either way she wanted it over and done with—and over and done with now.
“Steph,” Lucy almost pleaded.
“So, I got a call from Julia this morning.”
Lucy frowned. Though her head wasn’t quite screwed on straight at the current moment, alcohol having potentially fried around ninety percent of her brain cells, she was at the very least sure it was Saturday. And this Saturday, she was sure again, had not been a calendared working day, which then begged the question why had Julia—their boss—called Steph at all, unless she wanted tips on how to drink like a fish and not be affected the morning after.
“She tried calling you first, Luce, but you were dead to the world after last night, so then she called me. She’s probably on the phone to Trent now too.”
Though she was hearing everything in a sort of cotton-wool haze—her mind taking longer to process Steph’s words—Lucy still managed to understand why Steph felt the need to clarify the sequence of calls. As the three executive managers of the company, Lucy, Steph, and Trent usually worked separately. Their own teams were given individual projects to bring to fruition and were rarely included in one another’s work. That was, unless the job was extraordinarily large, or they were given the opportunity to compete for a project they desired.
“We have a big client coming in on Monday.” Steph chuckled. “Did I say big? I meant huge! Even Julia is excited. She’s asked us to come in a couple of hours early so that she can prep us. She didn’t even want to say his name over the phone!” Steph laughed excitedly.
“He must be a big deal,” Lucy said blandly.
Though this type of news would normally thrill her, the hangover was making it a struggle just to make it through the rest of the conversation without vomiting.
“Wow! You must be suffering,” Steph said with astonishment.
A groan was all Lucy mustered in reply.
“Okay. I’ll leave you be and call you again this afternoon. It’s seriously exciting though, Luce! I wonder who he could be?”
Lucy felt another groan grumble out through her lips.
Steph sighed. “Okay, I’m going. Now, remember to hydrate and eat a serious breakfast.” She laughed. “Or lunch, in your case. Talk to you later.”
Lucy didn’t answer, but pressed a button to end the call. As she did so, she noticed the time on the brightly lit screen. It was almost eleven. She hadn’t slept that late in years.
Grumbling indiscernibly to herself, Lucy dropped her smartphone to the floor. She was never drinking again, she promised.
Still unable to lift herself up without the pollution in her gut threatening to expel itself, she clawed her way up higher on the mattress instead, keeping her body flush against the sheet. Only when she was a little more parallel with the lengthways of the bed, looked a little more like a normal sleeping form, did she finally stop her efforts and relax. It may have been almost eleven in the morning and much later than she’d snoozed since university, but she didn’t care. She’d be sleeping in until she felt alive again, however long that may be.
Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the dizziness filling the darkness behind her lids and the sea-sickening nausea in her stomach. Instead, she thought of what Steph had told her.
We have a big client coming in on Monday… didn’t want to say his name over the phone!
Even though all positive feelings had left her because she was clearly still dying—or at least felt like it—Lucy knew that way down, somewhere inside herself, she was excited. How could she not be? She loved her job and enjoyed all new projects, but one with extensive funding and a high-profile client often offered more opportunity for creativity and recognition.
She smiled at the thought, but even that movement seemed to hurt. Her brief smile faded and became a pouty frown. She was definitely never drinking again.
***
Cal had a clear view of the front door from where he lounged on a sofa in the popular St. Kilda cocktail bar. Being mid-afternoon and a Sunday meant that the intimate room was already becoming crowded.
Although he had been trying to wait patiently, having eagerly arrived half an hour early, he was unable to stop his foot from tapping on the polished wooden floor. Leaning toward the large glass coffee table between his sofa and the next, he pressed a button on his mobile phone to view the time. Madison was two minutes late.
His long fingers picked up the rhythm of his foot and began tapping on the edge of the sofa’s cushioned arm.
“Can I get you another?”
Cal had been too distracted by his own thoughts to notice the willowy waitress appear beside him. Though she had trendy black-rimmed glasses and a colorful sleeve tattoo, her cheeky smile had him wondering whether it was time for him to change his usual type of woman for his weekly fling.
“Ah, no.” He grinned and then motioned to the empty scotch glass. “I’m confident we’ll order more when my friend arrives.”
The waitress nodded and Cal watched her walk over to an adjacent table, his gaze firmly planted on the swish of her hips as she did so.
“Still on the prowl, I see.”
Cal turned to see Madison Foley standing in front of him, a manicured hand on the jeans that hugged her narrow hips and a smirk teasing her lips.
“You know I wouldn’t have to be,” Cal said as he stood to greet her, “if you’d just give me her number.”
Madison laughed heartily and then reached her arms wide to embrace him, her beige jacket opening to reveal a black lace camisole. Cal returned her hug affectionately, noting that her tall, lanky frame hadn’t changed much in the many years he’d known her. As she released him from their embrace and stepped back to take a seat on the opposite sofa, Cal did the same and gazed over her familiar features.
When they were at school together, Madison had always been heavily into sports. A tomboy at heart, she was even passionate about the rougher sports like hockey and rugby. She’d always had a messy ponytail and a skinned knee, but these days her interests had changed dramatically. After eloping with Robert six years ago, she’d channeled her love of sport into hobbies they could do together. Her tanned skin and sun-kissed strawberry blonde hair told him she was still an avid surfer, but her French tipped false fingernails made it obvious she was taking a break from rock climbing. While her round face and kind hazel eyes were attractive, she had never been anything more to him than a close friend and quasi-sister.
“You look tired,” she told him. Her eyes narrowed on his features and she appeared to study him closely.
“Work has been more stressful of late.”
Madison crossed her legs and relaxed further into the sofa. “You need a holiday.”
Cal shrugged. “One day.”
He smiled at her then, all pearly white and charming and it only took a second for her stare to become suspicious.
“Okay, out with it,” she told him. “What are you offering me this time?”
Annoyed that his charm didn’t seem to work on her, Cal sighed defeatedly. “Once a month we catch up, sometimes even twice, and every time I ask you the same question, but you never give me a good enough answer.”
Madison rolled her eyes at him. “The answer is good enough. It’s the outcome it offers you that isn’t.”
“Why can’t you just give me her number? An email address? Something?” Cal huffed and crossed his arms over his muscular chest, crinkling the soft material of his black V-neck sweater.
Folding her hands in her lap, Madison’s expression became more serious, almost chiding. “I know it’s been many years, Cal and that you miss her terribly, but you know that I can’t just give you her new phone number without her permission.”
Cal leaned forward eagerly. “Why not? I know how much you wish we were all close again, like we were at school. How could it hurt?”
“She could never speak to me again,” Madison scoffed. “You might’ve been able to survive more than a decade with the cold shoulder from her, but I couldn’t. She’s like family to me. You both are.” Madison sighed. “You’ll just have to wait until she’s ready.”
A frustrated growl escaped his lips, and he threw himself back into the sofa. “And how many more years will that be? I miss her. I can’t stand living without her.”
Sitting forward in her chair, Madison snatched Cal’s left hand from where it gripped his dark-jean-clad knee and then held it reassuringly in her own. Her hazel gaze bore into his smoky-blue eyes and her expression became painfully sympathetic.
“Have faith that it will all work out,” she begged him. “I know she still cares for you, deep down beneath the pain and the anger.”
He shook his head in exasperation. “But how did I hurt her? Why is she so furious with me? Can’t you tell me that?”
Sounding solemn, Madison sighed. “I can only tell you what I always tell you, that your behavior in high school had her doubting the sincerity of your relationship together and that she needs you to understand how badly you hurt her before she can forgive you. Unfortunately, I’d be breaking a promise to her if I told you anything more.”
“Damn you both and your girly pinky-swears,” Cal teased half-heartedly.
As he gently released his hand from hers, he gave her a small smile. A moment of stoic silence passed between them before Cal narrowed his gaze, his brows furrowed in consideration.
“Well then, before I ask you how much Rob’s enjoying his new jet ski, perhaps you can do me a different favor?”
“I’m listening.” Madison’s expression filled with careful curiosity.
“Since you haven’t given me what I really wanted, I think—at the very least—I deserve to see a recent picture of her.”
Madison chuckled and reached for her smartphone. “On that, I’d be happy to oblige.”
***
Her reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator made Lucy smile. It had been a glorious morning so far. She had woken early in her Fitzroy townhouse, cheerful enough to take a run through the nearby Carlton Gardens before preparing herself for the excitement of the working day. As well as ensuring her long chocolate bob was blow-dried neatly, she’d also spent more time than she could ever remember fussing over the perfection of her make-up.
Though Lucy had resigned herself to the fact that she would always be of an average height and have a mostly average figure, she was grateful that her facial features resembled her mother’s. Her scarlet lipstick covered plump lips and was bright against the perfect paleness of her English rose skin. Her big, tranquil blue eyes were framed by large, dark eyelashes and seemed to glow beneath the smoky eyeshadow. With her red and ivory silk blouse, the tight black pencil skirt that finished a few inches above the knee, her shiny black pumps and matching petite shoulder bag, she felt ready for anything.
Lucy was glad it was Monday. She was happy she hadn’t heard anything more from Maddy over the weekend and that she’d survived her hangover from Friday night. She was also excited to be on the verge of a new project, but most of all, she was thrilled to be going to work. It wasn’t something she told herself daily, yet she couldn’t help but feel—at least the majority of the time—that she was one of those lucky people who had managed to find a career that strongly incorporated her passion.
She loved understanding niche markets and finding clever ways to seduce even the stingiest people to spend their money on fantastic and lovely things. She never looked at it as manipulating or cheating people out of their hard-earned money, because that had never been her style. She would leave that darker form of advertising to Trent and his team. Instead, Lucy saw what she did as a way to tap into the customer’s very soul, her ingenious techniques only a tool able to captivate the deepest desires in an individual. Lucy believed that the seduction of her marketing methods was one of true love where she helped customer and product unite.
A vaguely feminine, automated voice in the elevator announced her arrival at the twelfth floor, snapping Lucy free of her thoughts. Turning away from the mirrored wall as the elevator doors opened, Lucy’s smile widened. Here we go, she thought.
On the wall above the tall reception desk was an elaborate ebony, yellow, and emerald sign emblazoned with the words Insight Marketing. Stepping from the elevator, Lucy headed past the desk and the smiling young woman who sat behind it wearing a sapphire silk blouse and a blonde ponytail.
“Morning, Mia,” Lucy said cheerfully.
“You’re in a fabulous mood this morning, Lucy.” Grinning, Mia stood and smoothed her floral skirt as she hurried from behind the reception desk to grab Lucy as she passed. “Sorry, I couldn’t make it for drinks after work the other evening. Steph must have told you my little sister, Vicki, was in town?”
Lucy paused in her stride. “All good.” She smiled with a light-hearted shrug. “We’ll have to do it again sometime, as long as there’s a three-drink limit for me.”
Mia spat out a laugh. “Steph told me how wonderful you felt the next day,” she said mockingly.
Rolling her eyes, Lucy’s expression contorted in disgust. “Never again.”
“Whatever you say.” Mia’s smirk was almost mischievous, then she gestured down the open corridor before them. “I thought you’d like to know that our mystery client is in the boardroom with Julia.” Her eyes were wide with curiosity. “They’ve already been in there for half an hour.”
Surprised, Lucy frowned in concern. “I thought she’d wanted us in early to discuss tactics before the client arrived?”
Mia shrugged. “Apparently, he was very eager to get started. He was already waiting downstairs when Julia and I arrived at seven to open up.”
Shocked by Mia’s news, Lucy’s eyebrows quirked. “You’ve seen him then?”
Nodding, Mia’s gaze drifted toward the direction of the boardroom, which still lay just out of sight beyond the expanse of empty, brightly colored office cubicles and the line of glass-doored offices. Following her gaze, Lucy nibbled at her lower lip.
Her excitement at the project and the mysteriousness of the new client had overshadowed her nerves until now. Who was this enthusiastic client, so eminent and affluent that Julia had thought it best not to divulge his name over the phone? The secrecy was both exhilarating and terrifying. She wondered just how much longer she’d have to stay in the dark.
“Let’s just say,” Mia began, drawing Lucy’s gaze back to her, “that you won’t find it difficult to spend a little extra time with this one. If I could, I’d volunteer to be around him twenty-four-seven.”
Lucy smirked briefly, but then her eyebrows furrowed. It wasn’t odd for them to have a very attractive male client, although they were usually already married or searching for a lover of the male persuasion, but it was definitely rare for them to have a male client that had even Mia—Steph’s girlfriend—reconsidering her sexuality.
“Thanks for the heads up,” Lucy told her with an appreciative smile. Then she nodded in the direction of the boardroom. “Do you know if Julia wants us to join her in there or wait until they’re finished?”
Mia raised a hand and pointed her index finger toward one of the glass-doored offices. “Steph’s in her office waiting for Julia’s okay, but Trent hasn’t come in yet. When you’re all here, I’ll call through and let her know.”
Giving her a wink, Mia headed back behind the reception desk and Lucy continued down the wide aisle.
At Steph’s open office door, Lucy paused and glanced in at her colleague who looked uncharacteristically professional in her graphite-colored tailored suit as she stared intensely at her computer.
“All good, Steph?”
Steph glanced up from the screen as Lucy stepped inside. With a smile, she waved a hand toward the monitor.
“Just checking the leave calendar. It’s our third anniversary in July. Mia loves air travel, so I thought we could catch a flight somewhere nice.”
As she leaned casually on the chair in front of Steph’s desk, Lucy’s amused smile turned sly. “Planning anything special then? Three years is a long time.”
Steph narrowed her gaze innocently. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Lucy chuckled.
“And what about you, Luce? You never take leave. Surely a holiday would do you good?”
“I live to work.” Lucy shrugged. “I know it’s boring, but it makes me happy.”
“I think it makes you insane,” Steph said as she stood and walked around to the front of her desk. “You need a love life.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “I have a love life, thank you very much. I love my family, I love you, I love Mia, I love Rosie, I love Maddy, and sometimes I think I could even love Julia.”
“Now that is insane,” Steph scoffed.
The distant sound of Mia’s voice calling out interrupted their shared laughter.
“Trent’s here.”
As Steph and Lucy exited the office, they saw Trent striding toward them. His tall, taut figure fit into flawlessly pressed black slacks, which matched his impeccably ironed salmon suit shirt and his perfectly preened black hair. From a short distance, Lucy could admire the fact that Trent was good-looking, although his features were possibly a little too angular. It was only when he got closer and you had to deal with the real human man that he became less attractive.
“Have we seen the piggybank yet?”
Trent always referred to their wealthier clients as piggybanks, claiming that he could smash them open with his extraordinary marketing ideas and that the money would just keep pouring out.
“Don’t let Julia hear you call him that,” Steph warned.
Trent shrugged.
“No,” Lucy answered, wary of the glare her colleagues shared. “We haven’t yet had the pleasure.”
The quick clip-clop of high heels had all three turning to look toward the reception desk. Mia was almost running toward them, pointing a finger in the direction of the boardroom as she did so.
“They’re coming out,” she said, excitement making her voice shrill.
As Mia joined them, all four began to stare down the empty aisle, as though their keen expressions alone were enough to will Julia and their new client into view.
Seconds passed, an eternity of time in what felt like deafening silence. It was only when Julia’s girlish giggle echoed in the quiet space around them that Lucy realized she’d been holding her breath in anticipation. Steph and Mia seemed to share a look of confusion at the feminine sound.
“Is that Julia?” Steph asked in a whisper.
In wide-eyed surprise, Mia nodded.
A door closed with a thud and two sets of footsteps thumped almost in unison. As they grew louder, Julia appeared. She walked confidently into sight in her grey asymmetrical dress, her black micro bob and straight fringe barely shifting with the movement of her stride. Then a navy-suited leg stretched around the corner, followed by the rest of the man himself. And Lucy began to have a panic attack.
“What a honey,” purred Mia, while Steph rolled her eyes.
Lucy clutched a hand to her pounding heart, convinced that it was the only way to keep it from bursting through her chest.
What was he doing here?
She felt faint. Thoughts whirled around in her mind, making it difficult to focus on any one. She should’ve been angry, furious even, but instead she was terrified. She had to get out of there, away from him—now.
Stiff as a statue, she forced herself to look at Steph.
“You know that holiday you wanted me to take?” she told her. “Well, I’m taking it now. Bye.”
Steph, Mia, and Trent stood confused, watching when Lucy turned away from them and headed for the elevator. Then, their new client spoke.
“Lucy!” The rich male voice echoed through the open room. It was deep, almost sensual and filled with a kind of desperation.
The sound was enough to force three sets of wide eyes back to stare at the sinfully attractive, enigmatic man now standing next to Julia.
As Steph stared, a mental clog seemed to clink into place and her jaw dropped.
“Shut the front door,” she breathed. “It’s Lucy’s bome.”