Gift-Wrapped in Her Wedding Dress, page 12
With Dominic back in his immaculate dark business suit, clean-shaven, hair perfectly groomed, she didn’t feel as confident with him as she had this morning.
‘I did think of a contract and quickly dismissed it,’ he said. ‘I do trust you, Andie.’
Surely he must be aware that she would not jeopardise Timothy’s treatment in any way? ‘I’m glad to hear that, Dominic, because this won’t work if we don’t trust each other—it goes both ways. Let’s start. C’mon—answer my question.’
He still didn’t answer. She waited, aware of the palm leaves above rustling in the same slight breeze that ruffled the aquamarine surface of the pool, the distant barking of a neighbour’s dog.
‘You know I hate this?’ he said finally.
‘I kind of get that,’ she said. ‘But I couldn’t “marry” a man whose past remained a dark secret to me.’
Even after the question-and-answer session, she suspected big chunks of his past might remain a secret from her. Maybe from anyone.
He dragged in a deep breath as if to prepare himself for something unpleasant. ‘As I have already mentioned, at age seventeen, I was homeless. I was living in an underground car park on the site of an abandoned shopping centre project in one of the roughest areas of Brisbane. The buildings had only got to the foundation stage. The car park was...well, you can imagine what an underground car park that had never been completed was like. It was a labyrinth of unfinished service areas and elevator shafts. No lights, pools of water whenever it rained, riddled with rats and cockroaches.’
‘And human vermin too, I’ll bet.’ Andie shuddered. ‘What a scary place for a teenager to be living—and dangerous.’
He had come from such a dark place. She could gush with sympathy and pity. But she knew instinctively that was not what he wanted to hear. Show how deeply moved she was at the thought of seventeen-year-old Dominic living such a perilous life and he would clam up. And she wanted to hear more.
Dominic’s eyes assumed a dark, faraway look as though he was going back somewhere in his mind he had no desire to revisit. ‘It was dangerous and smelly and seemed like hell. But it was also somewhere safer to sleep than on the actual streets. Darkness meant shadows you could hide in, and feel safe even if it was only an illusion of safety.’
She reached out and took the glass from his hand; he seemed unaware he was gripping it so tightly he might break it. ‘Your home life must have been kind of hellish too for you to have preferred that over living with your aunt.’
‘Hell? You could say that.’ The grim set of his mouth let her know that no more would be forthcoming on that subject.
‘Your life on the streets must have been...terrifying.’
‘I toughened up pretty quick. One thing I had in my favour was I was big—the same height I am now and strong from playing football at school. It was a rough-around-the-edges kind of school, and I’d had my share of sorting out bullies there.’ He raised his fists into a fighting position in a gesture she thought was unconscious.
So scratch the elite private school. She realised now that Dominic was a self-made man. And his story of triumph over adversity fascinated her. ‘So you could defend yourself against thugs and...and predators.’
Her heart went out to him. At seventeen she’d had all the security of a loving family and comfortable home. But she knew first-hand from her foster sisters that not all young people were that fortunate. It seemed that the young Dominic had started off with loving parents and a secure life but had spiralled downwards from then on. What the heck was wrong with the aunt to have let that happen?
She reached over the table and trailed her fingers across his scarred knuckles. ‘That’s how you got these?’ It was amazing the familiarity a fake engagement allowed.
‘I got in a lot of fights,’ he said.
‘And this?’ She traced the fine scar at the side of his mouth.
‘Another fight,’ he said.
She dropped her hands to her sides, again overwhelmed by that urge to comfort him. ‘You were angry and frightened.’
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘All that.’
‘But then you ended up with this.’ She waved her hand to encompass the immaculate art deco pool, the expensively landscaped gardens, the superb house. It was an oasis of beauty and luxury.
‘My fighting brought me to the attention of the police. I was charged with assault,’ he said bluntly.
She’d thought his tough exterior was for real—had sensed the undercurrents of suppressed rage.
‘Believe me, the other guy deserved it,’ he said with an expression of grim satisfaction. ‘He was drug-dealing scum.’
‘What happened? With the police, I mean.’ He’d been seventeen—still a kid. All she’d been fighting at that age was schoolgirl drama.
‘I got lucky. The first piece of luck was that I was under eighteen and not charged as an adult. The second piece of luck was I was referred to a government social worker—Jim, his name was. Poor man, having to deal with the sullen, unhappy kid I was then couldn’t have been easy. Jim was truly one of the good guys—still is. He won my confidence and got me away from that squat, to the guidance of another social worker friend of his down the Queensland Gold Coast.’
‘Sun, surf and sand,’ she said. She knew it sounded flippant but Dominic would not want her to pity his young self.
‘And a booming real estate market. The social worker down there was a good guy too. He got me a job as a gofer in a real estate agency. I was paid a pittance but it was a start and I liked it there. To cut a long story short, I was soon promoted to the sales team. I discovered I was good at selling the lifestyle dream, not just the number of bedrooms and bathrooms. I became adept at gauging what was important to the client.’
‘Because you were observant,’ she said. And tough and resilient and utterly admirable.
‘That’s important. Especially when I realised the role the woman played in a residential sale. Win her over and you more than likely closed the sale.’
Andie could see how those good looks, along with intuition and charm and the toughness to back it up, could have accelerated him ahead. ‘Fascinating. And incredible how you’ve kept all the details away from the public. Surely people must have tried to research you, would have wanted to know your story?’
‘As a juvenile, my record is sealed. I’ve never spoken about it. It’s a time of my life I want well behind me. Without Jim the social worker, I might have gone the other way.’
‘You mean you could have ended up as a violent thug or a drug dealer? I don’t believe that for a second.’
He shrugged those broad street-fighter shoulders. ‘I appreciate your faith in me. But, like so many of my fellow runaways, I could so easily have ended up...broken.’
Andie struggled to find an answer to that. ‘It...it’s a testament to your strength of character that you didn’t.’
‘If you say,’ he said. But he looked pleased. ‘Once I’d made enough money to have my own place and a car—nowhere as good as your hatchback, I might add—I started university part-time. I got lucky again.’
‘You passed with honours?’ She hadn’t seen a university degree anywhere in her research on him but there was no harm in asking.
‘No. I soon realised I knew more about making money and how business operated than some of the teachers in my commerce degree. I dropped out after eighteen months. But in a statistics class I met Jake Marlow. He was a brilliant, misunderstood geek. Socially, I still considered myself an outcast. We became friends.’
‘And business partners, you said.’ He was four years older than she was, and yet had lived a lifetime more. And had overcome terrible odds to get where he had.
‘He was playing with the concept of ground-breaking online business software tools but no bank would loan him the money to develop them. I was riding high on commissions. We set up a partnership. I put in the money he needed. I could smell my first million.’
‘Let me guess—it was an amazing success?’
‘That software is used by thousands of businesses around the world to manage their digital workflow. We made a lot of money very quickly. Jake is still developing successful new software.’ His obvious pride in his friend warmed his words.
‘And you’re still business partners.’
He nodded. ‘The success of our venture gave me the investment dollars I needed to also spin off into my own separate business developing undervalued homemaker centres. We call them bulky goods centres—furnishing, white goods, electricals.’
‘I guess the Gold Coast got too small for you.’ That part she’d been able to research.
‘I moved to Sydney. You know the rest.’
In silence she drank her mineral water with lime, he finished his iced tea. He’d given her a lot to think about. Was that anger that had driven him resolved? Or could it still be bubbling under the surface, ready to erupt?
He angled himself to look more directly at her. ‘Now it’s your turn to answer my question, Andie,’ he said. ‘How did you get over the death of your...of Anthony?’
She hadn’t been expecting that and it hit her hard. But he’d dug deep. She had to too. ‘I... I don’t know that I will ever be able to forget the shock of it. One minute he was there, the next minute gone. I... I was as good as a widow, before I’d had the chance to be a bride.’
Dominic nodded, as if he understood. Of course he’d lost his parents.
‘We were staying the weekend at his parents’ beach house at Whale Beach. Ant got up very early, left a note to say he’d gone surfing, kissed me—I was asleep but awake enough to know he was going out—and then he was gone. Of course I blamed myself for not going with him. Then I was angry he’d gone out by himself.’
‘Understandably,’ he said and she thought again how he seemed to see more than other people. She had no deep, dark secrets. But, if she did, she felt he’d burrow down to them without her even realising it.
‘After Anthony died, I became terrified of the sea. I hated the waves—blamed them for taking him from me, which I know was all kinds of irrational. Then one day I went to the beach by myself and sat on the sand. I remember hugging my knees as I watched a teenage boy, tall and blond like Anthony, ride a wave all the way into the shore, saw the exultation on his face, the sheer joy he felt at being one with the wave.’
‘If this is bringing back hurtful memories, you don’t have to go any further.’
‘I’m okay... When someone close dies, you look for a sign from them—I learned I wasn’t alone in that when I had counselling. That boy on his board was like a message from Anthony. He died doing something he truly loved. I ran into the surf and felt somehow connected to him. It was a healing experience, a turning point in my recovery from grief.’
‘That’s a powerful story,’ Dominic said.
‘The point of it is, it’s five years since he died and of course I’ve moved on. Anyone who might wonder if my past could affect our fake future can be assured of that. Anthony was part of my youth; we grew up together. In some ways I’m the person I am because of those happy years behind me. But I want happy years ahead of me too. I’ve dated. I just haven’t met the right person.’
For the first time she wondered if she could feel more for Dominic than physical attraction. For a boy who had been through what he had and yet come through as the kind of man who offered to pay for a little boy’s medical treatment? Who was more willing to open his house to disadvantaged people than celebrities? There was so much more to Dominic than she ever could have imagined—and the more she found out about him the more she liked about him.
And then there were those kisses she had not been able to stop thinking about—and yearning for more.
‘I appreciate you telling me,’ he said.
She poured herself another long, cool mineral water. Offered to pour one for Dominic, but he declined.
‘On to my next question,’ she said. ‘It’s about your family. Do you have family other than your aunt? My mother will certainly want to know because she’s already writing the guest list for the wedding.’
‘You told your mother about the engagement?’
‘She couldn’t be more delighted. In fact...well...she got quite tearful.’ Andie had never felt more hypocritical than the moment she realised her mother was crying tears of joy for her.
‘That’s a relief,’ he said.
‘You could put it that way. I didn’t realise quite how concerned they were about me being...lonely. Not that I am lonely, by the way—I have really good friends.’ But it was not the same as having a special someone.
‘I’m beginning to see that,’ he said. ‘I’m surprised we’ve been able to have this long a conversation without your phone going off.’
‘That’s because I switched it off,’ she said. ‘There’ll probably be a million messages when I switch it back on.’
‘So your mother didn’t question our...haste?’
‘No. And any guilt I felt about pulling the wool over her eyes I forced firmly to the back of my mind. Timothy getting the treatment he needs is way more important to my family than me finding a man.’ She looked at him. ‘So now—the guest list, your family?’
‘My aunt and my mother were the only family each other had. So there is no Australian family.’
‘Your aunt has...has passed away?’ There was something awkward here that she didn’t feel comfortable probing. But they were—supposedly—planning to get married. It made sense for her to know something of his family.
‘She’s in the best of residential care, paid for by me. That’s all I want to say about her.’
‘Okay,’ she said, shaken by the closed look on his face.
‘I have family in the UK but no one close since my grandparents died.’
‘So no guests from your side of the family for our imaginary wedding?’
‘That’s right. And I consider the subject closed. In fact, I’ve had a gutful of talking about this stuff.’
‘Me too,’ she said. Hearing about his difficult youth, remembering her early loss was making her feel down. ‘I reckon we know enough about each other now to be able to field any questions that are thrown at us. After all, we’re not pretending to have known each other for long.’
She got up from her chair, walked to the edge of the pool, knelt at the edge and swished her hand through the water. ‘This is such a nice pool. Do you use it much?’
‘Most days I swim,’ he said, standing behind her. ‘There’s a gym at the back of the cabana too.’
She imagined him working out in his gym, then plunging into the pool, muscles pumped, spearing through the water in not many clothes, maybe in no clothes.
Stop it!
She got up, wishing she could dive in right now to cool herself down. ‘Do you like my idea to hire some lifeguards so the guests can swim on Christmas Day?’
‘It’s a good one.’
‘And you’re okay with putting a new swimsuit and towel in each of the children’s goody bags? Hannah pointed out that some of the kids might not have a swimsuit.’
‘I meant to talk to you about that,’ he said. Surely he wasn’t going to query the cost of the kids’ gifts? She would be intensely disappointed if he did. ‘I want to buy each of the adults a new swimsuit too; they might not have one either,’ he said. ‘I don’t want anyone feeling excluded for any reason we can avoid.’
She looked up at him. ‘You’re not really a Scrooge, are you?’
‘No,’ he said.
‘I don’t think people are going to be calling you that for much longer. Certainly not if I’ve got anything to do with it.’
‘But not a word about my past.’
‘That’s understood,’ she said, making a my-lips-are-sealed zipping motion over her mouth. ‘Though I think you might find people would admire you for having overcome it.’
The alarm on her watch buzzed. ‘I’m running late,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise we’d been talking for so long.’
‘You have an appointment? I was going to suggest dinner.’
‘No can do, I’m afraid.’ Her first impulse was to cancel her plans, to jump at the opportunity to be with Dominic. But she would not put her life on hold for the fake engagement.
‘I have a hot date with a group of girlfriends. It’s our first Tuesday of the month movie club. We see a movie and then go to dinner. We’re supposed to discuss the movie but we mainly catch up on the gossip.’ She held out her hand, where the diamond flashed on the third finger of her left hand. ‘I suspect this baby is going to be the main topic of conversation.’
She made to go but, before she could, Dominic had pulled her close for a kiss that left not a scrap of lipstick on her mouth and her hair falling out of its knot.
It was the kind of kiss she could get used to.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ANDIE SAT AT her desk in the Party Queens’ headquarters. ‘Headquarters’ was rather a grand term for their premises. It comprised an industrial kitchen where Gemma could do her thing; a workroom used for making props; a storage area; and an area loosely termed an office, where she and her two partners squeezed in their desks.
To say they were frantically busy would be an understatement. The weeks leading up to Christmas and New Year were the busiest time of the year for established party planners. For a new company like Party Queens to be so busy was gratifying. But it was the months after the end of the long Aussie summer vacation they had to worry about for advance bookings. Business brain, Eliza, was very good at reminding them of that.
