Keeping Her Up All Night (13 page)

BOOK: Keeping Her Up All Night
13.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

‘Oh, yes, yes. Lovely walk. Look at those calves. And the arms. Nice muscle tone.’

They didn’t mention her behind, though she felt pretty certain Guy was holding his breath waiting for it.

One of the women’s jobs was to write instructions onto a notepad as fast as they fell from the experts’ lips.

‘That’s it, that’s it!’ someone exclaimed. ‘If we can catch her like
that
. Watch for that angle, André.’

‘What about her hair?’ the older guy asked. ‘Do you want it up or—?’

‘Down,’ Guy cut in. ‘Definitely.’

‘Shouldn’t we turn her into a blonde?’

‘Why?’ Guy said sharply. ‘Her hair’s a rainbow. Catch her in the sun and you’ll see it’s filled with light. It’s rich in chestnut, reds, golds, violets.’

He checked himself, blinking a couple of times. Amber thought she could detect another faint stain to his cheek.

‘Anyway, there’s no time,’ he added curtly, deflecting more startled glances from his team.

‘Yeah, course. Fine,’ the older man hastened to reply. ‘Works for me.’ He shrugged and sent Amber a wink.

‘What about that costume? I could have put something really good together if I’d had more advance notice,’ Maggie grumbled in an aside. ‘What’s the big rush, anyway?’

There was a small silence while people held their breaths.

‘Are you saying you can’t do it, Maggie?’ When he spoke Guy’s tone was level. Pleasant, even. But it left an edge that had Maggie scrambling to backtrack.

‘Oh, heavens—course not. I have one or two things we can use. I’ll just have to do a few tweaks here and there.’ The sudden tension in the room relaxed as Maggie got herself off the hook.

‘Which one is it?’ Amber enquired.

‘Here.’ Guy directed her gaze to a lady in the picture wearing a delicate floral gown, her hair decked in flowers. She was scattering roses from some she carried in the apron of her skirt.

‘We need to put you in a floaty number like one of these.’

Amber stared at the screen. With the lighting behind it
the picture looked almost transparent. ‘Floaty?’ she murmured doubtfully. ‘It’s not see-through, is it?’

‘Yeah, see-through.’ The young red-haired guy guffawed, nudging his neighbour and grinning. ‘Exactly.’

Guy turned a stern glance on the boy, then coolly beckoned him aside. The lad’s grin was wiped. Whatever Guy had murmured to him was inaudible to everyone else, but the boy visibly wilted. When he slunk back to rejoin the team he didn’t look nearly so chipper.

Amber felt so sorry for him. It was soul-destroying to be shamed in front of a group. Honestly, Guy needed to get a grip. To make matters worse, he intercepted the sympathetic glance she gave the boy and sent her a warning frown.

What the …! He wasn’t deluded into thinking he was
her
boss now, was he?

Amber noticed Maggie shooting glances between her and Guy, and had the sinking feeling the game was up.

‘All right—er—Amber,’ Guy said briskly, suddenly seeming to pull himself together. ‘Maggie’ll take you down now for some make-up.’ He turned his gaze in Amber’s direction. But only in her direction, not right
to
her. He didn’t meet her eyes, as a friend would. Or an acquaintance from the local flower shop. Even a perfect stranger who’d just happened in off the street.

Only lovers covering up tried not to gaze at each other. She knew it, Maggie knew it, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole crew knew it.

She’d have laughed if Guy hadn’t been so concerned about his team knowing. At the same time she felt her insides melting with love for him for not being able to conceal his passion.

Maggie’s manner as she beckoned Amber to follow her made Amber wonder if the woman was peeved about
something. She hustled her along to a suite of wardrobe rooms not unlike the rooms backstage at a theatre, though on a much smaller scale. Then after measuring her, without much ceremony Maggie pushed, prodded and pinned her into a variety of dresses.

Usually Amber adored the whole costume business, and entered into the spirit of the thing with gusto. This time the experience was bit too brusque to enjoy.

‘This feels quite tight,’ she suggested to Maggie as she was being pinned into a long dress.

‘Hmm.’ Standing with pins in her mouth, a stapler in her hand and a tape around her neck, Maggie was the picture of the long-suffering seamstress. ‘Hang on while I clamp this bodice.’


Oof
. I do have to breathe, you know.’

‘Think how it enhances your shape. He’ll love it.’ Maggie glanced at her then, a challenge in her eyes.

Amber didn’t waste time pretending not to know who Maggie meant. She just lifted her brows haughtily. ‘So long as it works for his scenario, Maggie. That’s all Guy will be interested in.’

Maggie glowered, focused on her pinning. After a while she said fiercely, ‘Guy’s a
nice man
. He’s not the sort who plays around with people.’

It was Amber’s turn to frown. Did this Maggie assume
she
was the sort to play around with people? She was strongly tempted to inform Maggie that she actually found Guy really very playful, but decided against it. She and Guy were none of the woman’s business.

Besides, she didn’t want to risk being stuck with pins.

Once she was back in her own clothes again, a young woman introduced as Kate sat her in front of a fluoro lit mirror and started smoothing stuff onto her face.

Maggie’s phone buzzed and she turned away to deal
with it. ‘Thanks, boss.’ Slipping the phone away, she turned to Amber and Kate. ‘Guy’s given us an hour. Where’s that picture?’

There was a massive amount of hustle, with Maggie darting about collecting things in between madly machining darts into the dress to make it fit. Meanwhile, Kate worked magic on Amber’s face and powdered her throat

When her make-up was done to their satisfaction, Maggie helped her back into the dress. It was ivory, with a deep-scooped neckline, long lacy sleeves and a softly billowing skirt.

‘I’m not sure,’ Amber said doubtfully, trying to suck in her tummy while Maggie fastened at least a hundred buttons. ‘The fabric’s good, but I don’t know how spring-like it is. It feels a bit as if I should be walking up the aisle of Westminster Abbey.’ She surveyed Maggie’s copy of the picture again. ‘Do you really think this dress will cut it?’

‘It’ll just have to do,’ Maggie said grimly, piling flowers onto her workbench. ‘It’s long, isn’t it? If people don’t give you any notice to work miracles they have to be satisfied with what they get. Italian paintings, for pity’s sake. What next? Did the boys bring up that other box of flowers, Kate?’ She started rooting through shelves of plastic packing boxes. ‘Don’t you worry, my love. We’ll tart you up with so many flowers old Botticelli himself wouldn’t know the difference.’

Guy stood staring through his precious viewfinder at the Chinese Garden of Friendship. His camera team—André and the red-haired boy—lounged on the grass. As an informal make-up station for Kate, they’d set up a folding table and a couple of chairs.

The location looked tranquil enough, with its waterfalls, willow lawns and charming little bridges. At least
this time early on a Tuesday afternoon every man and his dog were partying somewhere else. Apart from the risk of accidentally including a pagoda in the shot, there had to be at least one good angle here where a goddess could scatter roses.

Guy decided on the most likely spot and galvanised the red-haired boy to help him distribute a few of Amber’s flowers about. ‘Try to make it look natural,’ he said, stapling a rose to a twig. ‘Remember she’s a flower goddess.’

The boy started to speak, then checked himself, casting Guy an anxious look to see if he’d heard. Guy made a wry grimace to himself. He’d seen their knowing glances. He knew they were surmising over his relationship with Amber.

He gritted his teeth. Why couldn’t they all get over it and let him get on with his life? It seemed that everyone he knew was constantly on the lookout for a happy ending for him. Of the
marriage
variety. As if that was the only kind of ending that counted.

If only people understood how humiliating that was.

Normally he loved a shoot. This was what he enjoyed most: seeing his vision come to life and capturing it on camera. It was a beautiful day, the city traffic was barely audible here, and he was about to see Amber looking even more impossibly desirable than ever.

He had to admit, though, he was having second thoughts. Not about Amber. Hell, no. Just thinking of her made his heart beat faster.
And
the sex. How had he survived so long in the wilderness without a warm, lovely body to curl up to?

No, it was
this
that was wrong. Involving his team in his personal affairs. Risking dragging it all up again. How could he have forgotten that some of them were friends with Jo? The other day Maggie had even casually dropped
in to the conversation that Jo was back in Sydney. As if
he
might be interested.

For pity’s sake.

But what if one of them hinted something to Amber? She’d be racing for the nearest set of hills like a horrified gazelle. Embarrassed.

Even worse, she’d be embarrassed for
him
. Imagining her reaction, he felt himself start to sweat. He ran a finger around the inside of his shirt collar. If only there was some way he could insulate her from people who knew him.

It had definitely been a mistake, rushing to her rescue like that. Who did he think he was? Sir Galahad?

But was it too late to call a halt today? He was nearly as good with a camera as André. If he could come up with a reasonable excuse he could send them all off home and do the whole shoot himself.

He was just racking his brains for one when the sound of voices echoing down the path alerted him to the approach of the women.

His pulse quickened. His vision was about to crystallise. Enter Spring.

Kate appeared first, carrying a box with her make-up case balanced on top, while Maggie walked alongside Amber, holding her bunched up skirt off the ground. At first glance the three were all clumped together. It took Guy’s bedazzled brain a moment to separate them into their individual components.

The same instant he did, Maggie allowed the dress she was holding to fall around Amber, and stepped away from her. Guy’s lungs seized as something like a twelve bore shotgun blasted a hole through him.

What were they thinking? They’d done her up as a bride.

The women fluttered around her, tweaking her dress
and the little flower sprays pinned all over her—at her bosom, her waist, on her skirt. A wreath of pink, red and white flowers adorned her head, while more were plaited through her long hair.

André and the lad hauled themselves up off the grass and clustered around her, goggling as if they’d never seen a woman with a pretty cleavage before in their lives.

The boy kept saying, ‘You look hot, Amber. Hot.’

‘Nice one, Maggie.’ That was André, circling Amber like a grinning shark.

‘Thanks, boys,’ Maggie said. ‘Scrubbed up all right, didn’t she?’

Guy saw Amber give them a quick modest smile, then look straight to him for his reaction. Thing was, he couldn’t say anything right then. A cold wind was whistling through the space in his guts.

He read puzzlement in her blue eyes, and had to turn away before he disgraced himself with some blistering comment.

André swanned into the foreground, salivating like Mr Fox. ‘Stand over here, Amber, and let me see you with the trees behind you.’ Smooth as butter, kneeling down with the camera on his shoulder, pretending he was interested in the shot when it was plain to anyone with half a brain he just wanted an excuse to ogle her.

The boy just continued gaping with his mouth open.

With superhuman resolve Guy snapped himself together. This was his disaster. He was in charge and he’d set the course.

Blinking, he said, ‘Let’s not waste time oohing and aahing. Thanks, Maggie, that’ll have to do, though I’m not sure a wedding was quite what I had in mind. Did you bring some roses for her to scatter?’

They were all looking strangely at him. Maggie’s hand
flew to her mouth in a betraying little gesture of dismayed comprehension that jabbed his raw spot like a knife.

And Amber …

What had he done? The hurt in her face, the confusion. How harsh had he sounded? What had he actually
said
? He closed his eyes, trying to recall his exact words, his blood pressure pounding in his temples.

What was wrong with him? She wasn’t a bride. This was another time, another place, and he was two years older. Amber O’Neill
was not a bride
.

‘Amber,’ he said hoarsely, shielding his eyes against the sun so as not to see his vision too clearly, ‘show us how you can walk like the springtime.’

CHAPTER TEN

T
HE
shoot took longer than Amber had anticipated. She was asked to float like a goddess and scatter roses so many times their store ran out. Then people had to scramble about picking them up again.

Guy seemed a little worried about how she was standing up to the repetition, but after a while he relaxed. If she’d wanted to she could have reminded him she was used to far more strenuous exertion at a highly concentrated level. But she didn’t care to bring up her past glories. Not in front of the crew.

Eventually the strained atmosphere mellowed slightly, thank goodness, and there were even some fun moments when the whole company collapsed in laughter, though it was an edgy sort of laughter. Guy joined in, but something in him felt different. Not so much a coolness, as a quietness.

A reserve.

When he and André were finally satisfied with their footage, and they’d wrapped up, the crew congratulated Amber and told her she’d been excellent. Professional, André said. Maggie especially seemed to be making an effort to be kind, actually suggesting she might drop by the shop the next time she was in Kirribilli. Amber was scratching her head. Had Maggie forgotten her dastardly
plan to run off with her beloved boss and screw his brains out?

She noticed Guy look too hard at Maggie when she made that astounding suggestion. The lines around his mouth were rather grim.

The trip home had a vastly different mood from the morning’s. Guy didn’t have much to say, while Amber felt anxious and confused. Awash with misgivings, in truth. Considering how frankly passionate he’d been towards her a few hours ago, this constraint was depressing. The big question was
why
? What had she done to make him go off her so dramatically?

‘Do you think the shoot went well?’ she ventured at last, her heart thumping like an idiot’s.

He nodded. ‘Oh, yeah. I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to do something with it.’

She made her tone bright and upbeat. ‘What a relief. What happens next?’

‘Well, we’ll edit it. Play around with it to get the tones and colours right. Layer on some music, of course. Something to suit the motion of the piece. A voiceover, some graphics …’ He smiled to himself. Or maybe it was a grimace of nauseated derision.

‘Plenty of airbrushing, I hope?’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe a bit of enhancement. To the dress,’ he finished, with a rather sibilant hiss.

She was silent for a while, wondering if she’d imagined that he was burning with resentment over something. ‘Sounds like a lot of work.’

‘Yep. The next part will have to be filmed in your shop.’

‘Oh?’ She glanced at him in surprise. ‘You mean there’s more?’

‘Only a couple of seconds’ worth. But that couple of seconds will have to show the shop in the best light possible.
I’m thinking we may as well send the people who do our set designs around to start your makeover.’

She felt a flutter of excitement followed by anxiety about how much it must all be costing.

She glanced at him, hesitating. ‘Look, I’m so grateful to you for all this, Guy. Honestly. Offering all your resources, your—your people. It’s so very generous. Truly kind. But I can’t help worrying about the money. I know it must be costing you heaps.’

He frowned, embarrassed, and shook his head. ‘No need to feel like that. This is business. If we can make Fleur Elise attractive, the glow will reflect on Wilder Solutions. When you’re rich we’ll add it to the bill.’

‘No,’ she said firmly, a decision she’d been mulling over for weeks suddenly crystallising in her mind. ‘That’s good of you, but—I want to pay for my own renovations. It’ll be great if you recommend your designer. But I’ll pay for all the work and the materials myself.’

He looked sharply at her, but didn’t question her ability to pay. Just as well. She had no intention of asking anyone’s permission to seek a small business loan from her bank. It was her shop, and it was her decision. She’d borrow the bare minimum and use some of the money for stock.

He glanced at her, his grey eyes appraising. ‘Would you object if I suggested a couple of guys that could do the actual work?’

‘No, of course not. So long as they’re excellent.’ Amber smiled, pleased with her decision. She glanced at him. ‘Will I be wearing the same costume for the shop part of the ad?’

He drew in a sharp breath through his nostrils.
‘No.’

Amber started. The harsh syllable echoed in her ears as the air crackled with tension.

What was wrong with him? So he hated that dress. Or was it her? Questions kept popping into her head, only for her to dismiss them just as quickly. Whatever was eating him had to do with her
in
the dress, obviously. She herself hadn’t thought it a great representation of the gown in the painting. Was he still mad because Maggie had failed to realise his divine vision?

Something had happened today. And she had the feeling the crew—or at least some of them—were in on it. She’d noticed the hurried exchange of glances and Maggie’s unhappy face.

As they approached the Harbour Bridge, against all her prudent instincts she asked tentatively, ‘Have you worked with Maggie a long time?’

‘Yep.’

‘She seems to think a lot of you.’

He glanced searchingly at her, eyes narrowed, a sudden tension in his manner. ‘Yeah? What did she tell you?’

‘Nothing—except that you’re a wonderful guy.’

‘Now, why would Maggie feel compelled to say that?’ The words sounded casual. But there was an edge she didn’t miss.

She shrugged guiltily. Maggie had talked about him, and now
she
had foolishly blabbed. She tried to get out of it by being flippant. ‘How do I know? She could just be a compulsive liar. Or maybe she has a secret crush on you.’

The man was not amused. She could tell. Partly by his heavy beetling brows. Partly by the hardening of his jaw for the several blocks between the bridge and home.

Maybe she should just shut up if everything she said was wrong. But she couldn’t bear it when people were mad at her and she didn’t even know what she’d done. Maybe he was regretting his generous impulse and getting stuck
with having to make this ad for her. Or perhaps he resented her invading his workplace, getting to know his team.

Or maybe … Her heart turned to ice. The taboo thought that had been lurking all day suddenly materialised.

Just
maybe
it was over.

The signs were all there. Call her a spineless coward, but while this was the ideal opportunity to clear it up, she dreaded knowing.

For the remainder of the trip she vacillated between asking and not asking. If she did, it would be a terrible risk. It might make him feel pressured. In her experience, put a man under pressure and you’d most likely face a rejection. But Guy seemed to be on the brink of rejecting her anyway. If she had any self-respect she should at least toughen up and find out why. She owed herself that much, didn’t she?

By the time they drew up into his parking spot in the arcade basement her insides were quaking and she had that strangulated feeling in her chest.

There was a tense moment when neither of them spoke.

She was the one who broke the silence, gazing straight ahead to keep her voice steady. ‘I was just wondering why you weren’t very pleased with me in the scene? Why you looked at me as if you wanted to throw up? As if you—couldn’t stand the sight of me.’ She tried to sound supercool and in control, but towards the end her chin insisted on wobbling, and that came through in her voice.

His hands flexed on the wheel. ‘No, Amber.’ He ground out the words. ‘That’s
not
—true. Not—how it was.’

There was a remorseful intensity in his voice that might have meant he was being truthful, or might have meant he was riddled with guilt. Guilty as sin for wanting to dump her on the nearest rubbish tip.

He turned to her, his eyes ablaze with some unreadable
emotion. ‘I know I may have seemed a bit taken aback when I first—But that had nothing to do with you. Honestly.’

‘Didn’t it?’ After all she’d endured today, this was just too much. Her veins swelled with indignation. ‘Well, I’ve got news for you, Guy Wilder. It feels pretty personal when someone glares at you as if you look like a slug.’

He made a jerky gesture. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. Honestly. It wasn’t
you
.’

At least he wasn’t trying to deny the ghastly moment had happened.

‘Who was it, then?’

He grew silent, his face hardening to a cool, unreadable mask. Then he lifted his shoulders. ‘Look, we all have
things
in our lives we don’t want to talk about. When I saw you at that moment just for an instant I was reminded of something that happened once. A long time ago …’ He waved his hands. ‘
Ages
ago now. It was just one of those stupid flashbacks from out of the blue. It was nothing, I swear. It’s all ancient history, but just for a minute there it hit me. All right?’

She stared down at her hands, mulling over all the denials, all the minimalising, then flicked him a glance. ‘Was it her? That woman you were with before? The one you had a break-up with?’

He closed his eyes and sighed. ‘Look, Amber, let’s just leave it now. Shall we?’

‘Fine.’ Shrugging, she released the seat belt and got out of the car.

It was blindingly apparent now why he was over her. Today she’d reminded him of someone else. The woman he wished he was still with.

When they each stood outside their respective doors, he drew in a breath and glanced at her, as if he was bracing
himself to say something difficult. Something like,
Well, it’s been fun. But I think you understand it can’t ever be anything more than that. I’ve just realised I still have this deep-seated passion for my old love. So … sorry Amber. No more hanging out. See ya round
.

But Amber got in first.

She glanced in his direction and yawned. ‘Well, it’s been a big day. I hope I can stay awake long enough to finish my management assignment tonight.’

His brow creased. ‘Oh? So you’ll be staying in for dinner?’

She avoided his eyes. ‘I’m not that hungry. I’ll probably just make a sandwich.’

He flicked a glance at her, then frowned at the floor. ‘Right.’

‘So …’ She unlocked her door, hesitated. ‘See you, then.’

She could feel his grey gaze sear her face like a torch. But then he just gave up. Just like that. The guy who was worried he’d ruined all his chances with her.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Good luck with it. See you.’

Inside, she bumped her shin on the edge of the coffee table in the hall. Cursing in extreme agony, it occurred to her that she’d rather have this pain than the one she knew was about to slice up her heart once the full ramifications sank through.

Whatever Guy
said
, however much he declared that woman was in his past, he was still in love with her. Why else would he have been so affected today?

In fact, now she’d been shown a glimpse of the bigger picture, a few thousand little clues began to add up.

She limped into the kitchen and opened the fridge, smarting all over. He hadn’t been concerned about not having dinner with her. There hadn’t been the least sign of disappointment. Since when had a management assignment
taken precedence over a night of excitement and romance?

Simple. Since the romance had hit a rock.

As she stared gloomily into the freezer, an even more lowering thought struck.

It was clear she must resemble that woman pretty closely. That must be why he’d been attracted to her. It had never been anything to do with her personally at all.

Tears swam into her eyes. All the time he’d been making love to Amber O’Neill, cuddling her, saying all those passionate things, he’d really been thinking of his true love. He was probably thinking of her right now.

Searching for a silver lining while she was choking down her toasted cheese sandwich, it did occur to her that he hadn’t actually said goodbye yet. Maybe she should have tried to seduce him good and proper to drive that woman from his mind? But not in the car. Not in a car park. There could be nothing ‘grand passion’ about that sort of venue.

Anyway, he’d looked too remote. If only he’d said something warm. Something to give her hope.

It was all too distressing. Instinct told her there’d be no accidental meeting tonight. How was she to kill time? She supposed she could shift all the furniture back into the sitting room and watch TV. Though that would require energy and motivation, when she urgently needed distraction. If she was to get through the next few hours she
had
to have something to paralyse her brain. Even her assignment was starting to look like an option.

With a groan of surrender she got up and switched on her notebook. Sighing, she clicked open the file. The pre-reading she’d already done had been about as exciting as the arcade on a Sunday afternoon.
‘Supervision of staff’
,
she read. Yeah, fat chance anyone had ever had of supervising
her
staff.

She read on and, surprisingly, started to become quite absorbed. At some point she must have stopped listening for sounds from next door, for clues of Guy’s activities, because before she knew it she was in the zone, writing some pretty hard-hitting stuff about Ivy. Not mentioning her by name, of course. But if ever there was a bona fide case study requiring a management plan Ivy was the candidate.

Maybe because she was miserable and confused, she found the plan was a great outlet. In a way it was like choreography, and she’d always found that satisfying. She’d just finished designing some seriously rugged hoops for Ivy to hop through when she noticed the time was close on eleven.

She rubbed her eyes, then gave the great work one last read through before hitting the ‘save’ button. Rising and stretching, she headed for her bedroom. At least she’d achieved something today.

Like a lorryload of boulders, her memory and the day’s events crashed into her heart. There’d be nothing else for Amber O’Neill tonight but an empty bed and a good night’s sleep.

Grabbing a fresh nightie, she headed for the bathroom.

BOOK: Keeping Her Up All Night
13.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Betting the Bad Boy by Sugar Jamison
And West Is West by Ron Childress
Homecomings by C. P. Snow
Catch by Michelle D. Argyle
Plague of the Dead by Z A Recht
Prairie Gothic by J.M. Hayes
Careful What You Ask For by Candace Blevins
Wolf’s Heart by Ruelle Channing, Cam Cassidy
The Shibboleth by John Hornor Jacobs