Her Favorite Rival (31 page)

“I was thinking that if it’s okay with you, I’d like to tell Megan what’s going on.” She watched his face, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Okay.” He appeared to be unruffled about the prospect of going public with their relationship.

“She won’t talk. But I don’t want her to feel as though it’s a big secret she needs to protect with her life or anything, either. That’s not fair,” she elaborated.

“I agree.”

She studied him. “You’re really not fussed about this? Even though things haven’t settled down yet?”

“Why would I be? People will find out eventually.” He said it so matter-of-factly.

“That doesn’t bother you at all? Especially after hearing about Dean?”

Dean was another of their fellow buyers. He’d been called into Gary’s office yesterday and given his marching orders. “Budget constraints” had been the official line. Whitman wanted them to do more with less, the modern corporate mantra.

“I’m not going anywhere, Audrey. How about you?” His expression was very serious.

“No. I’m right where I want to be,” she said quietly. It was a little scary saying it out loud. Neither of them had made any declarations yet. But it was getting harder and harder to bite her tongue when her feelings grew stronger every day.

He smiled, a slow, sweet smile that made her chest get tight in the best possible way. “Good.”

He leaned across to kiss her.

“So I should go ahead and tell her?”

“Yep. Tell whoever you like. I can hire a sky writer, if you like.”

She couldn’t help laughing, even though the thought of going public made her feel distinctly jittery. Zach’s expression grew more serious and he reached across to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We work like dogs, do overtime every day. I know you’re worried about being judged or censured, but they can suck it up. We’re allowed to have lives.”

She let her breath out in a rush. He knew her so well. He knew all her secrets, and he understood she had an almost pathological need to get things right in her professional life. It was something she knew she should work on, but it was hard to separate herself from any criticism she might receive for her work. She didn’t have to go far to understand why.

She knew he was right. The company might command their attention and focus for the bulk of their waking hours, but it didn’t own this time, right now. This was for them, and she was not going to pretend that Zach wasn’t one of the most important—if not
the
most important—things in her life.

“Right. Now that we’ve solved the world’s problems, I’m going to squeeze in five kilometers. You coming?” he asked.

They’d been through the same routine for the past three weeks and she settled against her pillows with a big smile on her face. She kind of liked the idea that they were developing their own shtick.

“I don’t run unless there’s a flesh-eating zombie with a chainsaw chasing me.”

Last week it had been an ax-wielding psychopath. She knew from his smile that he appreciated her changing things up.

“I’ll get you out there one day, you know.”

“You can keep trying if you like. But this body was not made for speed.”

“We’ll see.”

He tossed off the covers and stood, stretching his back. She ogled him unashamedly as he pulled on running shorts, socks and sneakers before shrugging into a T-shirt.

“Won’t be long, okay?”

“Make sure you’re all sweaty when you get back, okay?”

He gave her an amused look. “Are we developing another fetish?”

“The foot thing is not a fetish. It’s completely asexual. The sweaty-man thing I’m not so sure about.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He dropped a kiss onto her lips before leaving. A few seconds later she heard the heavy thud of the front door.

Probably she should get out of bed. There were dishes to clean, the remnants of last night’s takeout, and Zach would surely appreciate it if she put on a load of washing. They’d been spending so much time together they’d both let household chores pile up.

“Okay, Mathews, ass in gear.”

She threw back the covers and was about to roll out of bed when her phone rang on the bedside table. She leaned across to grab it. The caller ID said it was Judy, but it wasn’t until she’d hit the button to accept the call that it occurred to her that she didn’t have anyone named Judy in her contacts list.

“Hey, baby. I just wanted to hear your voice and let you know that I’m doing really well. They’re really pleased with me. I feel good about it this time, Zachy. I feel really good.”

Audrey cleared her throat, deeply uncomfortable. Clearly, she’d picked up Zach’s phone instead of her own, an occupational hazard when they had the same model. She really needed to get around to fancying up her cover or something to distinguish hers.

“I’m really sorry, um, Judy, but Zach’s not here right now. I can give a message to him, if you like.” She knew she sounded stiff, but it wasn’t as though she had a lot of practice taking phone calls from women who called her boyfriend
baby.

“Oh. Okay.” There was a long pause and Audrey frowned. There was a slowness to the other woman’s speech, an uncertain quality that made Audrey wonder if she was drunk. Maybe this was one of Zach’s exes, making a not-quite-sober booty call. “Who are you, anyway?” The question was abrupt and to the point. “Not to be rude or anything.”

“My name is Audrey. I’m Zach’s girlfriend.”

It was a little freaky how easily the words fell off her tongue. As though a part of her had been wanting to say them for a while now.

To her surprise, a crack of laughter sounded. “Well. How about that? Good for him. About time he did something about his tragic love life. Listen, Audrey, you tell him his mum called. He knows where to find me. And maybe we’ll talk again sometime. Or maybe not.” She laughed again. “He’s a hard man to pin down, that boy of mine.”

She disconnected but Audrey was frozen in place, the phone pressed to her ear. Slowly she lowered it.

Zach’s
mum?
How was that possible when Zach had told her both his parents were dead?

Maybe she’s a stepmum. Or a foster mum
.

That could be it. That must be it. Because the alternative was that Zach had lied to her about something pretty damned basic and fundamental.

“He wouldn’t do that.” Audrey’s words echoed.

Mind whirring, she set down his phone, only then registering that she’d had to reach to grab it—of course it had been his phone. If she’d been thinking with even half her brain, she would have realized that before she answered. And then she would never have spoken to Judy, Zach’s “mum,” and learned that Zach had potentially been lying to her.

It was a little scary how ambivalent she felt about that fact. Things had been going so well. She’d been so happy. Zach had been happy, too. She was sure of it. She had the awful feeling that that phone call would throw an almighty spanner into the works. It would have been nice if they’d been able to enjoy a little more time in the sun before things blew up.

She closed her eyes and pressed the pads of her fingers against her closed lids. Why on earth would Zach lie to her about his parents being dead? And what else had he been lying about?

A memory came flying at her as though her subconscious had been waiting for this moment—the golf day, Zach running so late she’d covered for him. She’d been too busy grappling with his dinner invitation to register it at the time, but he’d never told her why he’d almost missed the tournament. Granted, she hadn’t asked, but he hadn’t offered, either.

He was never late. Ever. And that night, he’d been so bone-weary she’d been unable to wake him up. Her intuition told her the two things were linked.

She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Zach would be back in thirty minutes or so. She needed to hang on to that and stop speculating, because the scenarios her brain was creating were not helpful.

Because she needed to be busy, she made the bed, then tidied last night’s mess in the kitchen. She’d showered and dressed by the time Zach returned, bright-eyed and sweaty, clearly energized by his run.

“Man. That was hard work today. Not sure why it’s easier some days than others, but today was a tough one. Maybe you wore me out last night.”

He kissed her before heading to the kitchen. She followed and watched as he poured a glass of water and drank it.

“I accidentally answered your phone while you were out. Sorry, I thought it was mine.”

He gave her an amused look, as though he thought she was getting anxious over nothing. “No biggie.”

“The woman I spoke to said she was your mum.”

He didn’t say anything, but there was the smallest of hesitations before he filled his glass a second time. She knew, absolutely, that he was using the action to buy himself some thinking time. Her stomach sank.

“I thought your parents were dead, Zach.”

He set down the glass and turned to face her. His expression carefully composed.

“My father is.”

“But your mother is alive?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to show how shaken she was. “Why would you lie about something like that?”

“It’s complicated, Audrey. It’s also got nothing to do with us, so it’s really not that big a deal.”

“You lying about your
complicated
mother has nothing to do with us?”

“Look, I didn’t do it to be sneaky or malicious or anything like that. There’s simply no good reason to get into any of this, and so I didn’t. My mum is not a part of my life. Ergo, she’s not a part of your life.”

“But she called you. You have her as a contact.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked cornered and wary, his body tense. “This isn’t a big deal, Audrey. Honestly. My mum isn’t someone you need to worry about. Can we let it go, please?”

“I don’t understand why you won’t talk about this.” He’d been so fantastic when she lost it over Leah’s apology, but suddenly he was closing the shutters because his mother had called.

“Because it’s not fun. And I don’t want to inflict it on you if I don’t have to.”

“Fun. Okay. You think I’m only in this for fun? That’s what we’re about?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I’m serious about you, about us. I wouldn’t have even laid a finger on you in the first place if I wasn’t.”

“Then tell me what’s going on, Zach.”

“There’s no point. It won’t ever affect you, because I’ll make sure it doesn’t. What we have is separate from that, so why should you have to wade through tons of shit for no reason?” His expression was tight now, his delivery clipped.

She stared, more than a little overwhelmed by what this conversation was revealing. Zach had something going on, something difficult, yet he didn’t want to share it. He wanted to compartmentalize it, keep their relationship on one side, while whatever else was happening remained on the other. Because she shouldn’t have to “wade through” his shit.

“Don’t you trust me?” She couldn’t think of any other reason for him to quarantine her from his real life. “Don’t you think I’m up for complicated?”

“This is not about you, Audrey.”

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about me being able to have my own life.”

“What life is that? The one I’m allowed to be a part of, or the other one, the one where you have a mother and God knows what else?”

“This is my real life. This is who I am,” he said.

“No, Zach. This is one part of you. The part you trust me to share.”

She was afraid of what else she might say, so she turned and left the room. In the bedroom she straightened the bed again, fussing with the pillows, smoothing the duvet cover.

She felt as though someone had given her a vicious shove in the middle of the back. She felt blindsided. She’d thought she and Zach were on the same page. She’d thought they were building the foundations for a lifetime commitment. She’d fallen in love with him: besottedly, wholly, completely in love. And all the while he’d been sharing only part of who he was.

She felt rather than saw him enter the room.

“Audrey. This is nothing. Trust me.”

“I do trust you, Zach. But you clearly do not trust me. Here I’ve been, thinking about the kind of renovations we could afford on this place when we sell my apartment—getting a little ahead of myself, I know, but I’m like that when I want something. When something’s important to me. And you’ve got this whole other thing that you won’t share with me.”

“That’s because it’s not worth sharing.”

She stared at him across the expanse of the bed, hollow with fear, because this was a deal-breaker conversation they were having. She was terrified of how it might end.

She loved him so much, had invested so much in him. If he wasn’t prepared to let her in...they had nowhere to go. Surely he must be able to see that?

“Zach, don’t you get it? I don’t care if it’s good or bad or awful or farcical or tragic. If it’s a part of your life, if it’s a part of you, I want to share it with you. I want to understand. I want to help you.”

He stared at her, his jaw tense. She could practically hear him grinding his teeth together.

She had a sudden flash of intuitive insight. “Have you ever told one of your other girlfriends about your mother? About this other part of your life you’re so determined to keep to yourself?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. She knew the answer: he hadn’t. Of course he hadn’t. He could barely bring himself to address the topic obliquely, let alone directly.

It was the final blow. She felt sick as it hit her that he didn’t consider her any different from his past girlfriends. He stood head and shoulders above any man in her world. She’d shared things with him, revealed more of herself than she ever had with another man. He was a treasure she’d stumbled upon, the soul mate she’d been searching for all her life.

And she was just another woman he didn’t want to become truly intimate with. Another woman he was prepared to share only so much with.

It physically hurt to realize how stupid she’d been. How misguided and blind. She’d offered herself to Zach on a platter—and he’d rejected her with his lack of trust. The enormity of her folly, of her foolishness yawned before her. Her throat closed.