Temporary Intrigue (12 page)

Sandra was softly humming an old love song.

“No way,” Dimity said firmly. “Simply because a good-looking, attractive, intelligent man pays me some attention–”

“You’ve certainly paid
him
some attention too, by the sound of that description. Have you thought about him at all?”

“Maybe. A bit. Not much.”

“Liar.”

Dimity laughed.

“Okay, so I liked him. Note the past tense. It was nice, but now it’s a memory. I’ll use it to warm my hands some cold winter night when I’m old and doddering.”

“So you’re not going to answer his message? Or take up his offer of a date?”

Or leap off the edge of a cliff into the unknown? The prospect was both frightening and alluring.

“It wouldn’t be a date.”

“Could lead to one.”

“Maybe I’ll answer him. But that’s all. Why do I need another male in my life? Shane and Bert are enough for now!”

“I don’t think this one’s the clinging type,” said Sandra.

True, thought Dimity later, sketching out ideas for a painting. She was just dithering, scared to take that leap.

Well, she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to.

For the sake of politeness, however, she could send a reply, a friendly but cool email, declining his offer again. That would make things easier if they did happen to meet during his visit on Friday.

And that fleeting electronic connection with him might help to take some edge off the indefinable ache that had been growing inside her during the evening.

She would think about the wording tomorrow, to make sure there would be no ambiguities in her message, and send it tomorrow evening.

Or would she?

Once again she tossed and turned for half the night.

****

Usually Josh liked the view from his office window. By lunchtime Thursday, however, he had to admit it was losing its attraction.

Located in the business centre of Sydney, the hotel offered panoramic views of the city’s spectacular harbour and surrounds including the landmark Harbour Bridge and the iconic Sydney Opera House, its white sails glinting in the sun. From their top floor position, the administrative offices also provided a bird’s eye view of the nearby Royal Botanic Gardens on the harbour’s edge and the bustling streets, shops and buildings of the sprawling metropolis with which Josh was becoming more familiar every day. Standing at the large expanse of glass that formed almost one wall of his office, he had to admit it was a stunning view.

But all it did today was remind him of another harbour in another city.

And a girl with raccoon eyes who was no longer in his mind occasionally.

She was there almost all the time, a disturbing presence that had grown rather than receded since their unsatisfactory parting.

She hadn’t bothered answering his email yet, and time was running out for her to take him up on his offer, although he’d left his work options open in case she did.

Assuming she’d received the email. He would have liked to send a copy to wherever she worked as well, but Sandra had been understandably cagey about giving out details. He was lucky she’d told him as much as she had.

For all the good it had done him.

Well, it made no sense to trespass where he wasn’t wanted. It was time to give up and get over it. He had more than enough on his plate career-wise without getting involved in something with the potential to louse up his life.

Although in the past few days that life seemed to have lost quite a lot of its relish.

Returning to his desk, he checked his emails again. Plenty of business stuff, but the only personal one, if it could be called that, was from Gail Addison, once more urging him to base himself in Newcastle for the two weeks of pre-convention activities and then the convention week itself. The hotel could provide him with a suite, she said. Even if he couldn’t relocate for the three weeks, she hoped he would attend a black tie reception for delegates a fortnight from Friday.

A bit of a piranha, that woman. Not that he would mind spending a few weeks in Newcastle. He liked what he had seen of the place and the convention was going to be a major event. He would certainly need to be there for the main week.

The only fly in the ointment was the possibility of coming face to face with Dimity somewhere along the way. He’d looked up Newcastle’s population and learned it was about 150,000 so a chance encounter was a remote possibility, but strange things happened. Under the circumstances, the prospect of such a meeting was disquieting. It made better sense to stay off her territory until the thought of her had stopped preoccupying him so much.

Until he could say “Dimity who?” and mean it.

Time for some fresh air, he decided and was on his way out of the office when he heard a low whistle from his deputy, Paul Sanders, whose room was next to his.

“Nice new talent in the Newcastle office. Have you seen the intranet, Josh?”

“Not today.” Josh hardly broke stride. Paul’s love of everything female was legendary.

“Cute name, too.” Paul’s voice followed him. “Dimity.”

Josh spun on his heel, almost meeting himself coming. Without quite knowing how he got there, he found himself looking over Paul’s shoulder at a picture of Dimity wearing a fixed smile like a model in a toothpaste commercial.

Unaware of the somewhat goofy smile on his own face, he read that she had been appointed to a temporary position in the marketing section of Global Homes, Newcastle. There was also a vague, potted history of her office work experience.

“Not bad, hey?” demanded Paul.

“Not bad at all.”

“There’s another one in Brisbane–”

Paul started to scroll down the page. Josh patted his shoulder.

“One at a time’s enough for me, buddy.”

He escaped back to his office, called up the intranet page and found Dimity’s picture again. The large green eyes in the delicate, heart-shaped face stared back at him. The photo was too small to reveal the fading bruises but there was a vulnerability in her expression that belied the bravado of the bright, toothpaste smile.

It seemed barely credible that even as he stared at the picture she was working at the Newcastle hotel, not far from the third floor corridor where they had met. It seemed even less credible, once she knew he also worked for the organisation, that she hadn’t told him.

Thinking back, however, he could understand why.

“Hey there, Miss Incompetence,” he whispered.

This new information might also put a different spin on the relief she had expressed at the fact he was based in Sydney.

The grin broadened on his face before it faded. All this could be wishful thinking, of course. If he had any brains he’d follow Plan A, forget her and keep his life on the sane, sensible course it had followed since he returned from Newcastle.

And why would you want to do that?
the green eyes seemed to ask him.

Why indeed?

He’d thought he liked a tidy life. But wasn’t a tidy life also fairly dull and predictable?

He didn’t quite know where he was heading. All he knew was that reason and logic seemed to be flying out the window, leaving in their place a humming anticipation that wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

It was certainly worth following up.

****

By 4.30pm on Thursday, Dimity was more than ready to call it a day. She’d hardly had a chance to lift her head and now had a clear understanding of why her predecessor had walked out. Gail was increasingly on the rampage, arriving at her desk with monotonous regularity to chew her out for various slip-ups: a name misspelt, a document filed wrongly, a message passed on incorrectly. More than once Dimity thought longingly of her studio at home, where she was her own boss and never seemed to get in a muddle.

But there wasn’t much time for thinking. Even the confusion of emotions that surged through her whenever she remembered that Josh might be in the hotel tomorrow was muted by the office bedlam.

Unaccountably, however, Gail’s mood suddenly improved. The final half hour of the working day was blissfully quiet.

“Maybe she found herself a boyfriend,” speculated Amanda as she and Dimity left the hotel together.

“Whoever he is, he needs a brain scan,” muttered Dimity. “I hope you’re right about her being out of our hair next week.”

At home things were no more peaceful, with Shane and Leigh bickering at each other during dinner. Dimity tried to ignore them, mentally rehearsing two versions of an email to Josh. One accepted his offer. One didn’t. She would make a final decision when she sat down at the computer.

“How about clearing up for me?” she suggested after the meal was finished. “I want to take Bert for a walk.”

Leigh mumbled something and made her escape.

“I need to sit down for a while after all that cooking. My foot’s killing me.” Shane was also set for a fast exit. “I’ll do some work on the computer.”

“How long will you be? I need to answer some emails.” From past experience, Dimity knew Shane’s idea of “working on the computer” usually involved several hours of downloading music to which he listened at such deafening volume that she had insisted he wear earphones.

“There’s no rush, is there?” Shane demanded irritably. “I’ll be finished by the time you’re back.”

He didn’t wait for her answer. Noting that his limp seemed no worse than usual, Dimity resolved to have a long, serious talk with him. But not tonight. Her stress levels were uncomfortably close to overload.

She looked at the table, remembering how easily and companionably Josh had set about helping to clear it on Saturday night.

Only five nights ago. It seemed so much longer.

She wondered what he was doing now.

Would she really see him tomorrow?

And if she did, how on earth was she to act cool and casual when even the thought of seeing him sent her pulse rate into hyperdrive?

Fetching Bert’s lead, she put the problem determinedly out of her mind. Like the mess in the kitchen, she would worry about it later.

****

At 7pm Josh stopped at a service station complex for coffee and a sandwich. In just over an hour he would be in Newcastle, settling into the hotel. Gail had sent an ecstatic email confirming that a suite would be ready for him.

His mobile rang as he returned to his car in the parking area. He smiled when he recognised his middle sister’s voice.

“Are you turning into an insomniac?” he asked. “It’s the early hours of the morning your time.”

“Too much coffee,” she said, too brightly. “Mum forwarded your email on to all of us and I guessed you’d be on the road. You sound happy to be going back to Newcastle.”

“A change is as good as a holiday. What’s up?”

“How can you tell?”

He grinned.

“I’m like someone who’s blind and then develops better hearing to compensate. I can’t see you but I can hear something’s wrong.”

Her sigh confirmed it.