Her Favorite Rival (33 page)

Gesturing for them to follow her, she started up the hallway. Audrey started after her, then realized Zach wasn’t beside her. She turned and found him frozen on the doorstep.

The look on his face...

It took everything she had not to cry for him then.

She held out her hand silently, and after a beat he took it. Together they went into the house.

* * *

Z
ACH
LEANED
AGAINST
the sink and listened to his mother make conversation. Apart from the slowness of her speech and her general scrawniness, he doubted an observer would guess that a month ago she’d been slavishly addicted to illegal opiates.

Is
addicted, idiot. Don’t fall for the spin. You’re smarter than that
.

His mother had been clean since being discharged from the hospital. They’d set her up on a methadone program, and she’d assured Zach that this time she would stay clean.

He’d heard it before. Too often.

“I’ve got some biscuits here somewhere... You always buy biscuits for me, don’t you?” his mum said, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“I thought you liked them,” he said.

“I do—when I remember them. Ah, here we go.”

His mother pulled a packet of assorted cookies from the cupboard and slit the plastic, arranging them on the plate. She’d already fixed them both up with coffee, and he watched as Audrey accepted a cookie and then casually dunked it in her drink.

As though this was a normal, run-of-the-mill meet-the-parents visit. Nothing to see here, please move on. Not by word or deed did she give the impression that she was freaked out or appalled or overwhelmed by what he’d revealed.

It was too good to be true. Or maybe she was buying his mother’s I’m-just-your-typical-suburban-mum routine. Maybe she thought his mother was always like this and was wondering why he’d made such a federal case out of the whole deal.

“Why don’t you sit down, Zachy? Or maybe we should go into the living room? Yeah, why don’t we do that?” his mother said.

“That sounds great.” Audrey stood and collecting both her coffee and the plate.

They trooped into the next room, he and Audrey gravitating to the sofa, his mother to the armchair. The ashtray on the coffee table was empty, but the smell of cigarettes lingered. His mother’s smoking always took off when she was clean. No doubt she was spending a fortune on cigarettes.

“I suppose Zachy’s told you about my situation.” His mother perched on the end of her seat. Her legs were crossed, one foot swinging rapidly the only sign that she wasn’t completely at ease.

He’d never brought a woman to meet her before. She was doing her very best to make a good impression, he knew.

“A little,” Audrey said cautiously, glancing at him.

“Four weeks and three days I’ve been clean now. Feeling pretty good about it, too. So much of it’s a head game. If you can get that right, you’re on the home stretch, and I think I’m there.”

Zach reached for a cookie, even though he wasn’t hungry. He chewed mechanically, listening to his mother talking up her recovery, the counselor she’d been assigned at the clinic, the new “headspace” she was trying to cultivate.

He kept glancing at Audrey, wondering if she was buying any of this. Then he reminded himself that she had no reason to doubt his mother. She didn’t know how many times he’d heard Judy say almost exactly the same things.

And she had always relapsed. Always.

“Is that Zach?” Audrey indicated the framed photo on the mantel.

“It is. That’s his first day of high school. He was so pleased with his new uniform he wanted to wear it during the summer holidays.” His mum crossed to the mantel and handed the frame to Audrey.

“Look at you. Ready to break some thirteen-year-old hearts.” Audrey smiled at him, totally at ease.

His mother started talking about the girl he’d asked to the seventh-grade school dance, but he was too busy watching Audrey to really pay attention.

Slowly, as the minutes ticked by, it sunk in that she didn’t care. She really didn’t care.

This wasn’t a deal-breaker for her. This was simply one of life’s curveballs. A thing to be dealt with or endured as painlessly as possible.

She wasn’t overwhelmed with pity for him. She wasn’t terrified or fascinated or repulsed. She was simply letting it roll over her, absorbing, observing. Taking it as it came.

She’d meant it when she said she wanted the good as well as the bad of his life.

He let the realization sink into his bones. The next time his mother had an emergency—and there would be a next time—Audrey would be there with him, if he let her, waiting in the hospital or the police station or wherever he needed to be. If he wanted her to, if he asked, she would accompany him on his monthly dinner dates with his mother, too. He knew without raising it with her. If he asked, she’d come.

She loved him. She wanted to share his life, truly share it. Messed-up, addicted mother and all.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by Audrey’s hand coming to rest on his forearm.

“Your mother was wondering if we were going to stay for lunch,” she said.

“I’ll have to pop up to the shops for some ham for sandwiches, but it’s no bother,” his mother said.

He glanced at Audrey. She smiled, telling with her eyes that the decision was his. She was fine. She would do whatever he wanted or needed to do.

“We might go, Mum. I’ve got a few things I need to take care of this afternoon,” he said.

“Oh. All right, then.”

They talked for a few more minutes, then said their goodbyes. Zach led the way to the street, stopping to glance at Vera’s house as it occurred to him that he’d really like for Audrey to meet her.

“What?” Audrey asked.

“The woman next door, Vera. She keeps an eye on Mum. I call her once a week for an update.”

“We should go say hello, then. I’d like to meet her,” Audrey said.

He held her gaze. She didn’t look away.

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to do any of this, ever again.”

He’d handled it for years. It would be enough that he could talk to her about it. More than enough.

“Zach. It’s not optional. Love doesn’t work that way. At least, my love doesn’t. I’m an all-or-nothing girl, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

So they went next door and had another cup of coffee with Vera and he tried to ignore Vera kicking him under the table and giving him not-so-subtle thumbs-ups to indicate Audrey had her approval. They left an hour later.

Audrey was silent as they drove, her head turned away as she gazed at the passing streetscape. Then she turned to him and put her hand on his knee.

“Do you think you could pull over for a second?”

He shot her a startled look. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. There’s something I need to do.”

He pulled over, and she immediately unbuckled her seat belt and climbed over the central console, clambering into his lap.

“What—”

She silenced him with a kiss, wrapping her arms around him. She held him for long minutes, her body trembling with the urgency of her feelings.

Finally she pulled back enough to see his face.

“Sorry, but I needed to do that. Not because I feel sorry for you, Zach, but because I’m so bloody glad that you survived all of that. You are a miracle. An amazing, gorgeous miracle, and I cannot believe that I have the right to sit in your lap and kiss you and call you mine. Because you are mine, okay? Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you go.”

Something slipped its leash inside him then, the iron-hard control he’d always kept on his emotions falling away. He turned his head, blinking rapidly, trying to hide the tears pushing at the back of his eyes. Audrey cupped his face in her hands and gently drew his head around to face her.

“I love you, Zach Black. You don’t need to hide your tears from me.”

He stared into her golden-brown eyes and saw her love, her sadness for him, her pride in him, and understood that sharing his shame hadn’t diminished him.

“You need me, and I need you,” she said. “It’s that simple. We were made to fit.”

“You always say the right thing,” he said, his voice husky with emotion, his chest expanding with it.

“No, I don’t.” She laughed. “Remember the clitoris incident? And the time I gave you a hard time about your polo pony?”

“That’s right. I forgot about that.” He slid his hand up to capture the nape of her neck. Her hair was warm from being against her skin, sliding over his fingers like heated silk. “You never did tell me what you and Megan were talking about that day.”

“What a shocking oversight.” She smiled, and he knew she was going to make him work for it.

“It’s going to be like that, is it?”

“You couldn’t have it any other way. Admit it.”

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t trade this woman, this perfect moment in time for anything. And the best thing was, it was but the first of many.

“I guess I’ll have to persuade you, then.”

And he did, despite the fact that they were on a very busy, very public road in the middle of the city.

Some things just couldn’t wait.

EPILOGUE

Six months later...

A
UDREY
PUSHED
HER
chair back from her desk when she read the email, the words
new category manager’s role
and
we’d like to encourage you to apply
emblazoned on her brain.

Oh, boy
.

She shot to her feet, keen to go talk to Zach and share the news. There had been rumors lately that after cutting them to the bone, Whitman was looking at rebuilding things his way. But she hadn’t expected this.

Then it hit her that her news might not be so welcome for Zach, and she sat down with a thump.

Once upon a time she would have crowed about being in this position, but not anymore. Now, his happiness meant the world to her. She wanted him to succeed, was his biggest cheerleader.

Her nervous excitement soured. It wasn’t as though there were many ways to handle this situation. She could either politely decline the offer, and hope that Zach would never know she’d been offered a chance at the job. Or she could be honest with him and trust that he could deal with it, as he’d dealt with everything else life had thrown at him.

She stood. There was only one choice. The cornerstone of their relationship was honesty. She wasn’t about to change that now, even if it was potentially for a good cause.

He was sitting behind his desk when she entered his office and she took one look at his face and knew.

“Gary asked you to apply, too, didn’t he?”

Zach gusted out a breath. “I’ve been sitting here trying to work out how to tell him I’m not interested.”

“You’re not doing that, Zach. You idiot,” she said fondly, even though she’d been contemplating the same radical solution. “You have to apply.”

“What, and you step back?” His expression let her know what he thought of that solution.

“There will be other promotions.” She shrugged.

“Fine. Then I’ll step back, and you can apply. Problem solved.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“And I can’t let you do that, either.”

She stared at him. She knew the stubborn look on his face all too well. He wasn’t going to back down.

“Then, what, we both walk away?” she said.

“Or we both apply.”

She sank into his guest chair as she digested what he’d suggested. “Zach... That’s a recipe for disaster, pure and simple. One of us is going to miss out. And that’s the best-case scenario.”

“The other way we both miss out. What’s wrong, Mathews? Not up to the challenge?”

Despite the gravity of the situation, she fought a smile. Zach could always make her smile, and he used his secret weapon mercilessly, in the same way that he’d used foot rubs to lure her into Saturday morning runs and his best bedroom moves to convince her to live with him sooner rather than later.

“Don’t try to turn this into a competition. You know it’ll get ugly,” she said.

“Because you’re so competitive.”

“Right. That’s
my
problem.” She rolled her eyes to let him know the shoe was on the other foot.

He rounded his desk, parking his butt on the edge. “We can do this, Audrey. We can handle it. If you get it, I’ll be happy for you. If I get it, you’ll be happy for me. It’s a win-win.”

“Since when did you become an incurable optimist?”

He glanced over her shoulder and she knew he was checking to see if anyone was watching. Their relationship was well and truly public these days—although she had made sure that Megan enjoyed a good few weeks of feeling smugly in the know before she and Zach had agreed to start commuting together. It had only taken a few days of them coming and going in the same car for the word to get around.

At the time, Lucy had sent her an animated email of a cartoon cat dancing Gangnam Style, the young generation’s equivalent of a high five, Audrey figured. Gary had had a quiet word with her in his office, the gist of the conversation being that he didn’t want any personal shenanigans affecting work matters. She had assured him they wouldn’t, then wondered—perhaps unwisely—if he would be having the same conversation with Zach. Something Zach had thanked her for later, naturally.

Twice she and Zach had arrived at the same time as Whitman, the CEO noting their exit from the single car with his usual cool, assessing demeanor. If he had an opinion about their relationship, he hadn’t let on, not by the flicker of an eyelid. But Audrey figured it was more his style to sack the people he didn’t approve of. So much cleaner and easier.

Neither of them had been sacked to date. And now they were both being asked to apply for a promotion.

The coast must have been clear over her shoulder because Zach moved his knee forward, nudging it ever-so-slightly between hers. She pressed her knees together, trapping his, reassured as always by having his skin next to hers. Even if her stockings and his wool pants were technically in the way.

“This was always going to happen,” Zach said. “It was only a matter of time.”