Beauty from Pain (6 page)

“
So, they’d never know I existed.
Of course, that makes sense.” I swallow hard. Am I really thinking
of agreeing to this total madness? To becoming someone else’s
secret? Haven’t I played that part enough already?

“
Are you accepting? Because it
sounds like you are.” His intense blue eyes smolder, begging me to
tell him I will be his for the next three months.

“
I’m
not
saying yes
yet.”

“
But, you’re not saying
no.”

He wants this badly. “The only thing I’m
agreeing to do is spend time with you. We’ll see how things go from
there.”

He beams. “I need something to call you
besides Yank or American girl.”

If I don’t know his real name, he doesn’t
deserve to know mine. I try to think on my feet, but it’s hard to
come up with an alias I’d like to be called for the next three
months. I go with my middle name and my sperm donor’s last name.
“Paige Beckett.”

He reaches across the table and strokes my
fingers with his, igniting a swarm of butterflies low in my gut.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Paige Beckett.”

6

Jack McLachlan

I already see Paige Beckett isn’t going to make
this easy for me. The others never made me wait for an answer. This
is something new, but I like the thrill of not knowing. I don’t
need to hear her say yes tonight because working to win her over is
going to be so much more fun.

“
And you are Lachlan
who?”

Everyone knew me as Jack, but my mother called
me Jack Henry my whole life, so I go with something that feels
familiar. “Lachlan Henry.”

I’ve never used a name so similar to my real
one, but I know why this is a first. Being coy with myself is
useless; I don’t want to hear her shout another man’s name when I
make her come. I want to hear her say my name, or at least some
semblance of it.

I smile as I think about the things I will do
to hear her call out my name. “And how old are you, Miss
Beckett?”

“
Seventeen.”

“
What!” There is no way she’s
seventeen. I inspect her face, studying it intently, but don’t know
what it is I hope to find. Laugh lines maybe?

She watches my face. “Is my age a problem for
you?”

“
Hell, yeah, seventeen is a
problem.” I throw my napkin on the table. All of this has been a
waste. “Forget it all. This whole thing is off.”

“
I don’t act seventeen. I’m very
mature for my age.”

“
No way. You’re not even old
enough to be drinking that wine.” I lean in and whisper so no one
will overhear. “I’m almost twice your age.”

“
I don’t mind. I have daddy
issues.” She breaks into a huge grin and I hear a girlish giggle.
That’s when I realize she’s fucking with me and has the ability to
lie with a straight face. I’ll have to remember that for future
reference.

I’m not amused. “I see I have a comedienne on
my hands.”

She’s still smiling, seemingly pleased by my
sharp reaction. “I’m not really, but you walked right into that one
and I couldn’t resist. Relax, I’m twenty-two, at least until the
groundhog comes out in search of his shadow. How old are
you?”

None of the women I’ve been with have been
playful like she is. Since I always choose older women, she’s quite
a bit younger than what I’m used to. At least fifteen years. Maybe
twenty. Will she wonder if I’m too old for her the same way I’m
wondering if she’s too young for me? “I’ll be thirty next month. Is
that a problem for you?”

“
Nope. I hope to be thirty in
about eight years.”

All right, Jack. You could have your hands
full with this one. Are you ready for her and what she could
bring?

“
Are you in school or do you have
a profession?”

“
I’m a musician.”

Oh, that explains why she sings
and plays the guitar so well.
“I heard you
at the club the other night.”

“
I didn’t know if you were there
when I sang.”

I decline telling her I was the guy sitting in
the corner being a creepy stalker. “You’re very good. I’ve never
heard ‘Crash Into Me’ sound quite like that before. I won’t forget
it anytime soon.”

She blushes like she’s not used to hearing
compliments. “Thank you. It was a pretty big coincidence that we
ended up at the same vintage dinner after running into each other
at the club.”

Should I tell her how I worked everything out
so I could see her again? Oh, why not? “I don’t think it can be
called a coincidence since I already knew you were going to be
there. I paid my waitress to find out if you’d be accompanying your
friend’s brother.”

She gawks at me. “So, that’s why that waitress
was so damn nosy?”

I smile with pride. “Yes, and I arranged for
your friend’s wine to be temporarily misplaced so I could lure him
away from you. You do realize he’s quite smitten with
you?”

“
You’re a master of
manipulation.”

I notice the way she chooses to not
acknowledge my comment about her roommate’s attraction and I wonder
if she is well versed in the game of manipulation as well. “I
prefer to call it determination.”

“
And are you always that
determined to get what you want?”

I go to extreme measures to have my way, but I
think I’ll keep that to myself. “Within reason.”

“
I’m not certain
I want to hear anymore about the tactics you use to get what you
want.”
That’s probably a
wise
choice.

I decide to let her choose our new topic of
conversation. “So, what would you like to hear about?”

She shifts her attention to the
glass of wine in her hand
. “Tell me more
about what you do in the wine industry.”

That is an easy one. I can recite this in my
sleep. “My employer owns a vast majority of the wineries across
Australia and New Zealand. You can call me his right-hand man. I
travel from vineyard to vineyard to oversee everything from the
books to the harvest.”

She nods. “I see. Do you have
family?”

“
Yes.” She’s waiting for more of
an answer, but I don’t budge.

“
Do you see them
often?”

“
I visit when I’m in between
vineyards.”

She gives me a quizzical look. “This is like
pulling teeth with you. I just want to understand you better. I’m
not asking you to tell me anything identifying.”

None of the other women were interested in
knowing about my family, so I’m not well prepared for how to
answer. “My oldies live outside Sydney. I have a younger brother.
He’s married and has two little girls. I also have a younger sister
still living at home. She’s a year younger than you and studies at
a culinary institute.” That’s all she’s getting from me. “What
about your rellies?”

“
It’s just my mom and
me.”

She doesn’t have a father? “What about your
old man?”

“
That’s a long story.”

Maybe it’s not fair of me to ask since I’m
unwilling to share much about my family, but I want to know her
story. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

She looks like she’s settling in for a long
explanation. “My mom was a rising musician when she got pregnant
with me. My sperm donor was a famous country music star. They met
when my mom signed with his label.” She shrugs. “He was married so
they started having an affair. His wife didn’t take too well to
finding out about her husband’s pregnant mistress, especially since
she was pregnant too. I have a half-brother I’ve never met and he’s
almost the exact same age as I am. Isn’t that charming?”

She lifts her wine glass to her
mouth.
“So, as you can see, I wasn’t
joking when I said I had daddy issues.”

“
That’s why you immediately asked
me if I was married.”

She’s pushing food around her plate. “It’s
only one of the reasons.”

“
You didn’t eat much. I thought
you weren’t scared to eat on a date.”

She shrugs again. “Nervous stomach, you could
say.”

“
If you’re finished, you want to
get out of here?”

“
Sure.”

We leave through the same revolving doors we
used the previous night, but under very different circumstances. We
stand on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant and Daniel pulls
to the curb from across the street where he’s been waiting. He gets
out to open the door, but I don’t have a clue where I’d have him
drive us since I’m unfamiliar with Wagga Wagga. “It’s a beautiful
night. Do you feel like walking?”

“
Sure.”

I tell Daniel, “I’ll call when we’re ready to
be picked up.”

He shuts the door. “Of course,
sir.”

“
Which way? Lady’s
choice.”

She glances in both directions and shrugs as
she points to her right. “Always go right and you’ll never go
wrong.”

We start walking and I remember the shoes
she’s wearing. She looks great in them, but there is no way they
will be comfortable for walking. “Those heels are sexy as hell but
don’t they hurt your feet?”

She laughs. “I’m used to wearing high heels.
I’ll be okay. But it’s very considerate of you to think of my
feet.”

I’m not sure if she’s being honest. “I
wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so please tell me if they
hurt and I will call Daniel to pick us up.”

“
I will.” She surprises me by
looping her arm through mine. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers
and breakfast you sent. Addison and I were almost drunk by ten
o’clock. It was great.”

Flowers and breakfast were nothing compared to
what I would give her if she agreed to be with me. “You’re welcome.
I’m glad you liked the champagne. What about Australia? Are you
enjoying it?”

“
I like it very much, but I can’t
get use to the idea of Christmas during summer.”

I had forgotten December is winter in the US.
“I’ve never thought of it being any other way.”

“
Will you spend Christmas with
your family outside of Sydney?”

Her questions aren’t identifying, but they
still make me uncomfortable. “Yes. Everyone gathers at my parents’
on Christmas Eve and we spend Christmas Day together. It makes for
an interesting night with my brother’s kids waiting for Santa to
come since the oldest is three now.”

“
Oh, that sounds like
fun.”

I can tell she’s an only child. “It is fun for
about two minutes, and then everyone is sick of each
other.”

She stops dead in her tracks and places her
palms against the glass window of a store. “Look at that. I think
it’s a Martin D-45.”

I inspect the guitar on the stand in the
window and see nothing special about it. It just looks like any
other to me. “I take it that’s good?”

I think she might be amused by my question
when I see her grin. “Yes, that’s very good. I’ve dreamed of having
one forever.”

“
Why haven’t you gotten
one?”

She gazes into the window and reminds me of a
child wishing for a toy at Christmas. “Because a D-45 costs about
twelve grand.”

“
Shouldn’t you have one if you’re
going to be a successful musician?”

“
Sure, I need one, but that
doesn’t mean I can afford it. I have my mom’s guitar to get me by
until I can afford one. It’s older than I am, but it’s still good.”
Her hands are still splayed against the storefront glass. “She’s
never told me so, but I think the sperm donor gave it to her.
Sometimes I catch her playing it and she looks like she’s been
crying.”

She wasn’t kidding about having daddy
issues.

“
I’ll have a
Martin one day,” she sighs as she
steps
away
from the
storefront.

We continue our walk until we come to the next
street and I see the sign for Stout Avenue. “The Blues Club
shouldn’t be far from here. You want to swing by and see what’s
happening?”

“
Sure. Which way do you think it
is?”

“
One way to find out.” I pull out
my phone and use an app to find it several blocks to the north.
“It’s six blocks that way.”

She lifts her foot from one of her shoes and
inspects it. “I don’t know if I can walk six blocks. My heels are
starting to rub.”

“
You said you would tell me if
they hurt. I don’t want you to be in pain. I’ll call
Daniel.”

She lifts the other foot and inspects it.
“Would you think I was weak if I let you?”

“
I don’t think for one minute
there’s anything weak about you.” I spot a bench on the sidewalk.
“We’ll wait for him here.”

While awaiting Daniel’s arrival, we sit on the
bench and I reach for her feet. “Let me see what we’ve got going on
here.”