Catch of The Day: Destiny Romance (26 page)

Gazing at the crowd from the sidelines, she found herself squinting. It couldn’t be, could it? Not all the way out in Kingston?

Alas, her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. Bruna really was striding her way, wheeling a small suitcase behind her. And her former housemate was grinning as though the disastrous weekend in Sydney had never even happened. Bruna came in close for an air kiss, reeking of Victoria Beckham perfume.

‘You came!’ Winnie squealed at last, appropriate words again eluding her. It appeared her ex-friend would go to any lengths to be at the opening of an envelope. Clearly Winnie’s speedy exit from the Sydney apartment and her curt, rather pointed goodbye note hadn’t deterred her former gal pal.

‘Of course I’m here,’ Bruna said, annoyingly dazzling in a Shrek-green slip of a dress. ‘I said I would be.’

A little different to last time.

‘Yes . . . and, uh,’ Winnie scrabbled for words, ‘your hair’s different.’ Funny, she used to have so much to say to Bruna. Or maybe it just felt like it. Their conversations
were
usually held against a backdrop of deafening club music and fizzing champagne.

Bruna shook out locks that trailed past her shoulders. ‘I’ve gone
bronde
. The perfect shade between blonde and brunette.’

‘Indeed. It, uh, suits you.’

Bruna cast a glance over her shoulder. ‘Well, you’ve gathered quite the crowd here today. Well done.’ She leant in close again. ‘So where’s that gorgeous photographer?’

‘Gorgeous photographer?’ Winnie echoed faintly.

‘Yes, the one who was in the background of that pic from the Allira Becci shoot you put up on Facebook – woof!’ Bruna had the look of a hungry dingo, ready to pounce on her prey.

‘Oh,
him
. Uh, he’s not here tonight.’ Winnie watched her former pal’s face fall. ‘But how long are you down for? You might meet him yet.’

It wasn’t like she had any claims on the photographer. In fact, it was high time she got over him, once and for all. The prospect of his rolling in the hay with her former best friend – if it came to that – would surely do it. Proof of how unworthy he was of Winnie’s affections. As much as the thought hurt her.

‘Cool.’ Bruna smiled winningly. ‘I’m here until Sunday. Then it’s the bus,’ her nose wrinkled for a millisecond, ‘and plane trip back.’

‘Well, I’m sure I can have you as my last-minute plus-one at the wedding I’m a bridesmaid tomorrow. Alex will be there, taking photos.’

Winnie wasn’t Bruna. She couldn’t abandon a former mate outright, though this would be the last bit of generosity she’d be extending the Sydneysider’s way. Her anger towards Bruna had ebbed since the job-application incident. She now just felt
indifferent
about the whole thing.

‘Brilliant.’ Bruna excitedly clapped her hands. ‘Right, mind if I dump my suitcase so I can really enjoy the party? I’ll unpack it at your place later.’

‘Actually,’ Winnie paused, ‘I didn’t know you were coming. So I haven’t organised a spare bed. Nor do I have a proper couch.’ She shrugged. ‘But there is a three-star motel down the road. I can give you directions.’

Bruna barely concealed the shudder that ripped through her, as though creepy-crawlies were scuttling on her skin. Her lips pulled tight around her teeth in the semblance of a smile. ‘Perfect, thanks.’

Alex focused the camera lens from afar, allowing Winnie’s entire beauty to fill the frame. Chester Wyatt’s cattle property, a section of which had been done up like an enchanted forest with faux reindeers and birdcages, made an apt backdrop for the journalist. She looked like she’d stepped out of a fairy tale.

Alex knew bridesmaid dresses weren’t generally forgiving, but Winnie seemed to have a new sense of poise and confidence that made hers appear worthy of an Oscars’ red carpet. Then there was the matter of the way the red gown hugged her lush curves . . . He wanted her so badly he could barely see straight. In fact, he’d thought about Winnie virtually every second since he heard she’d been to Sydney for the weekend.

Maybe it had been a reminder of what he stood to lose, coupled with knowing those after him were closing in. Like the imminent weather change he could feel in the air, it suddenly felt time – time to give up on leading a double life and holding Winnie at arm’s length. Time to come clean and tell her what she really meant to him. Something had clicked in his brain. Just because he’d been wronged by a woman he’d loved didn’t mean Winnie was cut from the same cloth. She was different from what he originally thought. She was amazing.

And if he was unsuccessful in convincing her of how he felt? Well, didn’t they say you should let your failures refine you rather than define you? He knew he’d put Winnie through the wringer – he’d been up and down like a bride’s nightie, so to speak. But he couldn’t correct the past, only try to change the future, and this time there wouldn’t be any ifs or buts. No fuzziness or emotional ambiguity.

Letting the camera drop to his side, he summoned his courage and slowly headed in Winnie’s direction. Unfortunately, once he was only a few feet from her, he still didn’t know what to say. She stood under a gum tree, seemingly lost in her thoughts, nursing a flute of champagne. It was the first time all day he’d had the chance for a moment alone with her, despite being the wedding’s photographer. At other times, she’d been swept up in the whirlwind of the bridal party and Eden’s micromanaging. Or huddled in a corner with some Eurasian girl, who looked like a Sydney blow-in, when the friend wasn’t doing stripper moves on the makeshift dance floor.

Pausing at the edge of the tree’s shade, Alex shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and chanced a look at Winnie. Her eyes, though wary, seemed drawn to his.

‘Enjoying the day?’ Hey, it wasn’t Shakespeare, but it was a start.

She clutched the stem of her glass and nodded, her earlier self-assurance seeming to waver slightly under his gaze. ‘Yes. And Eden seems happy.’

He returned the nod, desperate to make her feel at ease again. ‘So far it’s all gone according to script, although,’ he squinted at the sky, ‘don’t think the rain’s going to hold off much longer. All the guests will be running for the marquee soon.’

‘Yeah, I think you’re right.’

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. He spoke first. ‘You look terrific, by the way . . . really beautiful.’ He let out a low laugh, feeling self-conscious. ‘Without wanting to sound too cheesy.’

She shifted her high-heel-clad feet, surprise in her eyes. ‘Oh . . . thanks. Well, you haven’t scrubbed up so bad yourself. Did Eden make you get rid of the stubble and cut your hair?’

It appeared their roles had been reversed and Winnie was now full of spunk again.

‘Yeah, I thought I should.’ Alex rubbed his smooth jaw. ‘Almost like starting afresh.’

A tiny smile brightened her features for a moment. ‘You could even pass for one of those A-listers in the gossip pages you so despise.’

He hid a wince. ‘Something like that.’ He tried to pluck some courage out of the air. ‘Look, Winnie, the reason I came over here was because I was hoping to explain a few things to you in private. Some things I should have told you a long time ago —’

But she wasn’t looking at him any more. Instead she was peering over his shoulder towards the distinct sound of helicopter blades. Alex turned as the noise grew louder, making conversation impossible and whipping up hair and hemlines. The chopper’s arrival added to the shift in electricity already in the air – and couldn’t be worse timing for him. Figuring it was another of Eden’s wedding stunts, all he could do for the moment was look on like everyone else.

The silver helicopter settled on the ground. As its blades slowed and engine quietened, the passenger door finally swung open and the crowd held its collective breath as a suited man stepped out. For Alex, the sight of the visitor was like a punch to the stomach. He’d been wrong about the helicopter being a wedding stunt – it had been chartered for the single purpose of finding him.

The visitor didn’t even bother to remove his mirrored aviators, just kept his eyes trained on Alex as he threaded his way through the crowd, towards him.’We need to talk.’

Alex swallowed hard, feeling like he was caught in high-voltage ute headlights. It was the very last thing he wanted to happen right now, the very last way he wanted to be found. Especially as he hadn’t yet told Winnie.

But before Alex could even make a move or gather his thoughts, he felt someone fling themselves at him. He looked down to find Winnie’s friend hanging off his neck like it was a dance pole. ‘Ciro Ballas! I
knew
it was you from the Facebook photo – even half-disguised,’ she gushed. ‘
I
know my celebrities.’

Not far behind the brunette was Yasmin Cox from the
Coastal Herald
, wearing an inappropriate nipple-revealing white dress. She thrust her chest out even more as she scooted closer. ‘The runaway billionaire Greek shipping heir, who had his heart broken and was betrayed by his family,’ she breathed. ‘I want the exclusive – why you’re here and where to next!’

Just as he’d feared.

Lost for words, feeling like his windpipe had been crushed, Alex gently prised the girl’s fingers from his neck. He glanced over at Winnie. Shock and disbelief were written all over her face.

Slowly, she shook her head. ‘You never said a word. All the times you could have . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

‘Winnie, I —’

She put up her hand. ‘Save it, Alex, or whatever your name is.’

Behind Alex, the aviator-wearing visitor cleared his throat, but it was just as quickly drowned out by another noise – a shriek. Alex swung his head in its direction, along with the rest of the guests. It was Honey, holding the front of her bridesmaid dress, as a puddle of liquid pooled on the ground in front of her.

‘My waters just broke!’ the pint-sized bridesmaid yelped. ‘The twins are early. Glad I wasn’t planning on wearing this frock again. Where’s my hubby?’

From under the tree Winnie raced to Honey’s side, hooking arms with her friend, just as a violent boom of thunder sounded overhead. ‘I’ll help you find him and get you to the ute.’

The pair rushed away as sudden, pouring rain began. Alex could feel fat drops dribble under his shirt collar and down the back of his suit jacket. It was a baptism of sorts. At least the local farmers couldn’t cry ‘drought’ any more with all the wet weather they’d had recently. In the distance, he could see Eden’s red-lipped mouth fall open, contrasting with her pale face powder, like one of those amusement park clown heads. Not everything that day had gone according to plan.

As the hundreds of guests ran for shelter, Alex flicked up his jacket collar, glad all eyes were no longer on him, and cut a slow and steady path towards the helicopter. He was ready to properly face his father.

Winnie stared out at the ocean the next morning. Usually, she found the sights, sounds and smells comforting, meditative, like being back in yoga class in Sydney. But that day, her head spun and a sense of sadness engulfed her.

Sleep had evaded her most of the night, but she’d eventually fallen into a dreamless slumber. Not that she felt rested. When she’d woken, a cold sweat prickled on her skin, her shoulders felt tense, and her back and legs ached. The devastation – betrayal – had taken its toll.

Being up late at least had given her plenty of time to find out all about Alex – scratch that,
Ciro – 
online. Despite the shock, she still wanted to know more, get answers. And the gossip sites had brimmed with stories. Headlines were imprinted in her brain. S
HIPPING
C
ZAR’S
S
ON
M
ISSING AFTER
H
EARTBREAK
& F
AMILY
B
ETRAYAL
; S
HIPPING
F
AMILY ON
G
LOBAL
H
UNT FOR
S
ON ON THE
R
UN
; G
REEK
S
HIPPING
H
EIR
L
ET
D
OWN BY
L
YING
L
OVER
.

Thanks to the internet, she’d finally gotten the keys to Alex’s locked box of secrets. But rather than feeling sated, she just felt cheated. Humiliated. Hurt. Sure, Alex had had a rough trot lately by any account, but it still didn’t excuse him from making a mockery of the town.
Of her
.

All the time he’d known her, he’d probably been secretly laughing at her behind his boarded-up facade. While chastising her out loud for being a fashion-mad city slicker, he likely thought her common, try-hard,
cheap
.

She’d seen pictures of his socialite ex-fiancée, Olympia Dranias, on the web. And while the woman might have done the dirty on Alex – broken his heart – Winnie couldn’t compete with her sort of moneyed, manicured perfection, no matter how hard she tried to mirror that world. Olympia, with her honey-toned hair, grey-blue eyes and sharp-as-glass cheekbones, was out of her league.

Of course Alex knew designer brands like Gucci and Ray-Ban. Those sheets at his house
were
a thousand thread count. And it made sense that he was well acquainted with the likes of Allira Becci – obviously they moved in the same circles. He’d just been playing the role of a backwater bumpkin.

Everything she’d shared with him – the ups and downs – now felt tainted. She’d revealed so many parts of herself and he’d given her nothing in return. Further, he’d criticised her for not being honest about how long she planned to stay in town – made her feel guilty – when he’d proven to be the biggest liar of them all.

Perhaps women like Bruna and Yasmin would have been thrilled to find out a guy they’d been intimate with actually had a secret identity like his. But Winnie? She just felt used.

It pained her that, after all their time together, when she’d finally felt like she’d gotten to see pieces of him, she didn’t really know him at all. And she was sick of being let down by men who said one thing and meant another, who couldn’t offer any promises. Just like Grant. Just like her father.

Even if Alex – or Ciro, or whatever his name was – did look even better in real life than he did in the media pictures. Even if she missed his presence, his voice, his body melding with hers . . .

It had been a weekend of endings. Along with the whole thing with Alex, she’d farewelled Bruna on the bus yesterday morning. Though things had stayed amicable, Winnie knew they wouldn’t stay in touch. Not after she’d discovered her friend had only come to town to verify Alex’s true identity, thinking she could take advantage.

It was the very last time Winnie would let her ex-housemate slither out of trouble. Bruna, on the flipside, couldn’t understand why Winnie wanted to stay in Kingston any longer unless there was a wealthy cray fisherman on the horizon – which, clearly, there wasn’t.

As Winnie watched the water rippling, like a blue blanket thrown in the air and sailing back down again, she knew in her heart she could never forgive Alex. Not that he’d even tried to contact her. Obviously, he lacked the courage. Or more likely, he didn’t care enough.

Alex sat alone in Kirk’s four-wheel drive, wearing sunnies and a baseball cap in an attempt to hide from the media that had flocked to the town since his father’s flashy arrival and the news had broken about his secret identity.

Alex knew he really should have left town by now, but another part of him didn’t want to keep running. His eyes – and thoughts – were solely on Winnie, who cut a lonely figure on the sand from afar.

Guilt gnawed at him; at the entire farce he’d subjected her to; at how holding himself back might have kept him safe, but had cut her like a knife. He was no better than his lying ex-fiancée, he could see that now. And he desperately wanted to reach out to Winnie, to try to explain, but he felt frozen in his seat. Terrified, if he were honest, that he’d get everything that was coming to him.

He had the morning free because Walker had told him not to bother coming on the boat, he didn’t think it would look right. Alex wasn’t sure if he meant just that day or forever. Kirk had been pretty sore about being lied to as well, though he’d been generous enough to let Alex take cover at his place for the time being and to borrow his car. He was a good sort.

Like Winnie. To think he’d written her off when he met her. Put her in the same category as his social-climbing ex, Olympia, just because he’d recently had his heart broken, had a jaded outlook on life, women, relationships. But he’d been wrong about Winnie – dead wrong. Just look at how well she’d slotted into country life in such a short space of time, the changes she’d made in herself, the lives she’d touched.

Last night, he might have finally gotten things off his chest with his father – sent him back to his privileged existence, telling him in no uncertain terms he didn’t want to join the family business, that he couldn’t forgive him – but it hadn’t filled him with relief, only deep regret at how he’d screwed things up with Winnie and about how late he’d left it to try to repair things. He felt like he’d won the lottery, then lost the ticket. Looking at Winnie now, he knew his whole world had collapsed beneath his feet. His life was an empty shell with no purpose, nothing to look forward to. And he only had himself to blame.

Reluctantly, Alex turned the keys in the ignition and the four-wheel drive’s engine purred to life. He felt spineless, leaving with words unsaid. But he was sure he’d lost Winnie. There was only one silver lining: he’d certainly learnt his lesson. He had to be grateful for the little time they’d had together, and now leave her alone. He didn’t want to add to her pain.