Just Breathe (18 page)

‘Fine.’ Everything was perfect as long as he stayed right there, his forehead just centimetres from hers. ‘I’ve never heard anyone say “no comment” before. Does it feel as assertive as it sounds?’

He smiled. ‘Yeah, it feels assertive.’

There was assertiveness, too, in the way his eyes moved over her face. As though he was deciding what he wanted from her smorgasbord of features – soft lashes, the curve of her cheekbone, the swell of her full bottom lip.

Dee pulled in a breath. ‘I guess you get to say plenty of assertive things, being the clever business-type person you are.’

‘Us clever business-type people get a lot of interesting opportunities.’ His gaze wandered along the line of her jaw, the curl of her ear, the pulse she could feel thumping in her temple.

Dee guessed that if her brain wasn’t paralysed in shock by the flirtatious turn of the conversation, she might have thought of something playful and sexy to say. Something that suggested mutual interest instead of dumbstruck disbelief. But the muscles in her face wilted and her mouth dropped ajar as she scrabbled for words. ‘That must be fun,’ she finally managed, hoping it didn’t sound as pathetic as it felt.

Apparently it did. Ethan’s own smile wavered for a moment. Then he lifted his wrist and checked his watch. ‘It’s late. I should get you back to your car.’ He leaned away again and the flirty connection was broken.

She collected her bag from the table and followed him through the club, still mentally picking up her jaw from the floor. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Ethan might ever be attracted to her. She figured the sparks she kept seeing were a figment of her imagination, that he must look intently into the eyes of all his prodigies. But she didn’t imagine that moment of sexual tension.

Or the snap back to reality when he obviously remembered she didn’t belong to the breed of woman he was interested in.

But wow, he’d been tempted. Who would have thought?

As she walked carefully over the waxed floors, it dawned on her that their moment of flirtation changed everything. She snuck a look at him as they waited for the lift. Having a crush on a man who was never going to look twice was ridiculous – but it was also safe. She could daydream all she liked about kissing and touching and tumbling about naked and never have to face the ramifications of a future. The possibility the sparks were real, that they could in fact land and ignite, was suddenly more than a little scary.

The lift door opened and, as Ethan ushered her in ahead of him, she remembered Ian’s comment about models-slash-actors-slash-singers. It was one thing to trust Ethan’s business advice, quite another to trust the glowing embers in his eyes. He’d had one brief marriage and dated a few thousand Roxburgh Girls – relationships clearly weren’t his strong suit. The obvious best option was to stick with the crush from a nice safe distance.

The problem was she wasn’t sure she
could
keep her distance if he advanced again. Her heart was hammering just standing beside him and it’d done major flip-flops when he whispered sweet, flirty words. Would she be able to push him away if he wrapped his arms around her? Kissed her? Suggested tumbling about naked?

And then what? It might make her want more. And wanting more was just a few steps from wanting a future. No, she needed to find a ten-foot pole and stay out of sweet-nothings range.

Dee’s eyes flashed open. She gasped.
Ethan
.

She took a breath, checked the clock.

Five-fifteen.

Crap, she’d overslept. She whipped her knees up to her chest. Big circles with the right leg. Big circles with the left. Wince on the hamstring pull, groan on the cat stretch. Forget the dream,
Dee. You don’t want Ethan to kiss you over coffee. She rolled onto the yoga mat, skipped the extra back workout, cut the meditation short. It wasn’t enough but it would have to do.

She had a busy week ahead and it was bad news starting without the right preparation. Dee dropped an empty jar of coffee on the kitchen counter with frustration. Even worse without caffeine. There was enough for at least two more cups yesterday morning. Damn Pam!

Patrick was at his door before she had a chance to knock. ‘Hi, Dee. Nice weekend?’

Not enough sleep. ‘Lovely, thanks. How’s your neck today?’

‘Not bad, not bad. I’m actually getting a stretching sensation there now instead of just searing pain.’

‘That’s great. What about the knee?’

‘Those new quad stretches you gave me are working.’

‘Great. You can show me later.’

Dee worked Patrick through his class with only half her mind on the job. The other half had left the moment and was running through the week ahead. A lunch meeting with Graeme Paffe on Tuesday. Val’s birthday on Wednesday, which meant half a day of apartment viewing and high tea. Pages of draft scripts to read and get back to Health Life. A baby shower/farewell dinner on Thursday for Arianne, who’d reluctantly decided to give up teaching until some time after the baby was born. And, on Friday, the school was hosting a yoga demonstration. Fortunately, she’d managed to beg off any kind of performing role but was required to take money and offer refreshments. All of which meant a complicated reorganising of private lessons, swapping of classes, starting early, finishing late, driving back and forth across the city and a general, exhaustion-fuelled pulling out of hair.

After Patrick’s class, she eased into the rush-hour traffic, heading towards her next private,
and consoled herself that Monday would be the easiest day of the week. All she had to do was teach six lessons, drive through the city four times, meet Leon to find a present for Arianne, buy a card for Val, book a table for afternoon tea and try to find replacement teachers for two classes. She didn’t need to eat. Easy.

By Wednesday, Dee was hyped up on coffee and stress. The meeting with Graeme Paffe went well but she doubted the value of reorganising her life for a lengthy chat about yoga pants.

She managed to squeeze in a private class before she had to meet Val but Sonya was late and wouldn’t shut up afterwards so now Dee was behind schedule and wondering why she’d bothered to shower before running up the street to the car.

Her mother was waiting outside a block of apartments that were dark brick and on the wrong side of sixty, unlike Val, who was still blonde and clinging to fifty-nine.

‘Don’t you just love the art deco architecture?’ Val said while Dee was still three car lengths away.

‘Happy birthday, Mum.’ She pecked her mother on the cheek and pulled a face. ‘It’s pretty old.’

‘Now don’t go making up your mind before you’ve had a look.’

They met the agent inside, where Dee’s original opinion was confirmed – old and small and dingy and looking straight into the apartment next door. The next building was equally aged but not so dingy, thanks to the fact it overlooked an open, airy six-lane highway. The third apartment was a single bedroom, which automatically ruled it out on account of not being able to afford it without a tenant.

Val went into raptures over the fourth. ‘Don’t you think it’s just the ticket?’ She spread her arms wide, taking in the cracked wallpaper and the water stain on the carpet.

Dee held back a frustrated scream. ‘It’s awful.’

Val’s smile lost none of its joy. ‘It could do with a bit of work, I admit, but use some imagination, Trudy. With a lick of paint and some lovely new carpet, I think it’ll come up a treat. And with you not being tied to office hours, you have plenty of time for scraping off that wallpaper and getting the hang of a paintbrush.’

As Val laughed with delight, Dee turned away and squeezed her eyes shut. What the hell was she doing wasting her time in these places? She didn’t even want an apartment.

Not that Val appreciated that. She’d been cheerful all afternoon, having a ball believing she was leading her daughter out of her wasted existence, priming her for a lifetime of mortgage repayments. It was time Dee spelled it out for her. She did
not
want any of it.

As she turned around, words forming on her lips, Val smiled and adjusted the strap of her handbag at her shoulder – where it sat next to the Birthday Girl button Dee had pinned on her shirt.

She exhaled loudly. ‘I think I’ve seen enough apartments for one day, Mum. Let’s go have tea.’

‘Julia looked like most first-time mothers, thrilled and nervous all put together. I took a cake to the hospital and we celebrated her thirty-fifth birthday in the maternity ward.’ Val took a sip of tea from a fine china cup and continued. ‘I can’t believe your cousin is thirty-five already. Four years older than you and having her first. It’s nice to know there’s still time for you, isn’t it, dear?’

Dee took a bite-sized cake from the three-tiered silver stand on the table and stuck it in her mouth. It would be rude to answer while she was eating.

‘And Naomi’s got a new job. Your Auntie Fee said she was poached by a big legal firm in
the city and is being fast-tracked for partnership. And she’s only thirty-two.’

Dee wanted to put her hands over her ears. For the last hour she’d been subjected to tales of Sue and her four kids, Joanne and her wedding, Kim and her lovely new home, as well as Julia and Naomi. Val’s message was coming through loud and clear.

‘Champagne for the ladies.’ A waiter placed two crystal flutes on the table.

Dee held out her hand. ‘I’m sorry. You must have the wrong table. We didn’t order champagne.’

‘A gentleman at another table sent them over,’ he told them.

Dee and Val swivelled in their chairs. The room was ornate and plush, adorned with crisp white tablecloths, suited waiters and well-dressed customers.

‘And he sent birthday wishes to Mrs Nichols.’

‘Oh, how lovely.’ Nichols wasn’t her name since she’d married Ken but it didn’t seem to bother her as she scanned the restaurant. ‘Who was it? I’m sure I don’t know anyone here.’

‘Mr Roxburgh is dining at one of our booths.’

Dee’s mouth dropped open. ‘He recommended this restaurant for its high tea,’ she told Val. ‘I didn’t know he’d
be
here.’ Had he remembered the date of her mother’s birthday? And
she’d
been worried about looking like a stalker.

‘
The
Ethan Roxburgh?’ Val’s hand was on her heart.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ the waiter said.

Her other hand shot out and grabbed the waiter’s wrist. ‘Please tell him it was a lovely, thoughtful treat.’ He straightened to leave but Val pulled him back down. ‘And tell Mr Roxburgh I’d like to thank him in person, if he feels like stopping by.’

‘Certainly, ma’am.’

‘How do you know Ethan Roxburgh?’ Val’s eyes were wide with delight.

‘I met him through Lucy Roxburgh. Remember I told you she was a student?’

Dee watched the smile on Val’s face grow wider, imagined the story she was already concocting. ‘My Dee is great friends with both the Roxburghs. Oh yes, Ethan sent us champagne when she took me out for my birthday. He’s a lovely man.’ It’s possible it might even beat Naomi and her fast track to partnership.

Then Val’s eyelids widened further and she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. ‘He’s coming over.’ She sat regally, looking ready to bow.

Dee ran a hand over her hair, crushed her lips together before she turned. He really did fill out a suit well. Black jacket, crisp white shirt, swirly blue-green pastels on his tie. And those lovely dark eyes were looking straight at her. She smiled as she stood.

‘Hey, Dee.’ He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

For a brief moment her senses were filled with the scent of him, a hint of coffee, something sweet and the delicious softness of his cheek against hers. She felt a rush of heat and fizz, as though she’d already taken a gulp of the champagne. So much for staying out of range. ‘Hey, Ethan.’ Val was hovering. ‘This is my mother, Val.’

Val grabbed him by the hand, shook it heartily and began a recitation of thanks and praise for his thoughtfulness and extravagance and choice of restaurant and taste in clothes.

‘Okay, Mum, let the man sit down.’

Ethan took it with good humour and ordered another glass to toast the preening Val. This was a great birthday present.

‘Surely you don’t do yoga as well,’ Val said to Ethan.

He shot Dee a quizzical glance. ‘No, but my sister’s been a student of Dee’s for years. She has a lot of admiration for her.’

‘I should think so. I hear your sister is very good at what she does.’

‘I meant Lucy admires Dee. Says she’s an excellent teacher.’

Val was momentarily surprised. ‘That’s very nice of her, isn’t it, Dee?’

Dee took a sip of champagne and saw a small smile on Ethan’s face.

‘I met Dee at Lucy’s Christmas party last year,’ he told Val. ‘We’ve had quite a bit to do with each other since then, one way and another.’

Val patted him on the hand. ‘Well, I hope some of your renowned business acumen rubs off on her. She’s absolutely hopeless with money.’

Dee sipped through gritted teeth.

‘From what she’s told me about her business, she seems to have a good operation,’ Ethan said. ‘She’s carved out a niche in a specialised market, she’s got a natural talent for managing
her clients and, from what I hear, she’s excellent at what she does. At the moment she’s working on building a more solid financial base but she’s open to new ideas and works damn hard, so I don’t expect it’ll take much time to get on top of that.’

A speechless Val cast astonished eyes over her wayward daughter.

Dee fought an intense desire to press herself to Ethan and kiss him long and hard on his soft lips.

Ethan gave her the merest hint of a wink as he raised his glass to Val. ‘Well, ladies, it’s been lovely but work is waiting.’

Dee stood with him and moved in close as he turned to leave.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s entirely possible all that spin could elevate me to favourite daughter status for a while.’

His hand strayed to the small of her back. ‘It’s my pleasure but it wasn’t spin. I meant every word of it.’

Then he was gone and Val was gurgling happily. ‘He’s a lovely man, isn’t he?’

Ethan Roxburgh was a lot more than that.

After Lucy’s class on Thursday afternoon, Dee left Roxburgh House grinning like her face had split. She had to tell someone. It was too exciting to keep to herself. Leon? No, he was on location doing gruesome ship-wreck make-up. Arianne? Better not, she could be sleeping. Howard might be free but he wouldn’t get it. Ethan would, though. He’d love it.

She pulled out her phone.
I did it!
She wrote then erased it. No, it needed to sound more business-y.
Have secured first pay rise. Business plan on track. V impressed with self.
She hit send with a grin, pushed on through the city pedestrians. A minute later the phone rang. She checked the display and grinned some more.

‘Hey, Ethan.’

‘Congratulations. One step closer to a profitable business. Any problems?’

‘No, it was Lucy and she blamed you, of course.’

His chuckle was a ripple down her spine.

‘I’m glad you buzzed. I’m having dinner with some visiting business associates tomorrow night and I’ve just discovered they’re bringing their wives. I was wondering if you’d like to join me.’

Dee stopped walking so suddenly a woman ran into her back. ‘Oh, sorry, sorry,’ she mumbled as the woman continued past.

‘Don’t worry. It’s not a date. We’re just wrapping up some business over a meal,’ Ethan said.

Of course. ‘Sure. That sounds great. Oh, wait. That’s Friday. We’ve got a demonstration at the yoga school and I won’t be finished until about eight.’

‘No problem. I’ll make a late reservation. This demonstration you’re in, is it open to the public?’

Dee felt her face heat up at the thought of Ethan watching her in something like that. Those sessions were designed to show students what they could achieve with time and dedication and there were always a few beginners who were shocked by the more extreme postures. She might have no hope of a date with him but she didn’t want him to think she was a freak. ‘Well, yes, but I’m not
in
it. I’m just helping with supper.’

‘What a pity. I’ll pick you up at the school at eight?’

‘Most people are oblivious of their global responsibilities when they buy clothes,’ Tom said. ‘This hemp shirt is environmentally friendly
and
economically responsible.’

Dee smiled hesitantly. She’d only commented on how nice he looked. She waited for him to clip his seatbelt then joined the traffic on its way to Bondi beach for Arianne’s retirement dinner.

He did look nice in his Hollywood Jesus way – white shirt and trousers, humble sandals, shoulder-length blond hair, penetrating blue eyes. It’s just that as she watched him across the table during dinner, she kept thinking of crisp business shirts and brightly coloured ties. Tom was nice, though, she reminded herself. And gentle and sweet. And his passion was a good thing, wasn’t it?

After they’d eaten and Arianne had hugged and thanked all twenty teachers and students who’d toasted her temporary retirement, Dee and Leon joined her at the end of the table to enjoy the party from a distance.

‘My perfect date involves a good movie, candlelight and some peanut butter,’ Leon said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he picked up an earlier conversation.

Arianne hid a yawn behind her hand. ‘Don’t tell me any more. I’m exhausted.’

Dee topped up their water glasses. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve had a real date, I can’t remember what it’s like. You know, the kind when the guy actually wants to get into your pants.’

‘So, assuming you had the guy, what would you have on your dream date?’ Arianne asked.

‘Pants with easy access,’ Leon laughed.

‘Oh, ha, ha.’ Dee took a second to think about it. ‘Right now, while I’m so overloaded, all I’d need is a lovely man who’d cook dinner for me at the end of a long day. Anything after that would be a bonus.’

‘Does Ethan cook?’ Leon said, brows jiggling again.

‘The question is whether he’d ever cook for me and I’m sure the answer is a big,
resounding “no”.’ She pushed her chair back, paced around Arianne, talking through gritted teeth. ‘I don’t
want
to have a crush on Ethan. Why can’t I fall for someone like Tom?’

As she said it, Tom’s voice rose from the other end of the table: ‘… I can fit my weekly refuse into a jam jar.’

Dee rolled her eyes, slumping into her seat again.

‘Personally, I’ll be glad when you’ve given up on Tom,’ Leon said. ‘I’m as concerned as the next person about the environment but I’d have to kill you if you started peppering our conversations with third-world debt and carbon exchanges.’

Arianne stretched, not bothering to hide her yawn this time. ‘I don’t get it. What’s the attraction in a guy who goes out with a different woman every month?’

‘Well –’

‘That’s it!’ Leon pointed an accusing finger at Dee. ‘The man who never dates anyone for long
is
the attraction. It’s a Dee-style Freudian slip. There’s no need for you to get all freaked out about the future with someone like Ethan Roxburgh because a whole relationship with him would fit neatly into your two-week maximum for making plans. Handsome, sexy, smart and short term. He’s the perfect guy for you.’

Dee gasped. Leon was right and the light-bulb moment was so powerful she thought there’d been a power surge. It was entirely possible it was his reputation for all-too-brief relationships that was the major drawcard. Yes, okay, the handsome/smart/just-plain-nice thing helped but there was no need to fear another flirty moment. No need, in fact, to keep out of sweet-nothings range because there was no danger of a future – he would take care of that.

‘And if he’s not ready to move on after the two-week max,’ Arianne said, ‘she’ll be out of there as soon as he says, “Hey, let’s go on holiday.”’

‘Or, “Let’s look at that apartment,”’ Leon added.

While Leon and Arianne chuckled, something squirmed inside Dee. ‘I may have done that before …’

‘Once or twice,’ Leon muttered.

‘But it’s not because I don’t want a longer relationship. I just have trouble getting from the start to the next bit.’

‘That’s because the next bit is the future,’ he said.

Dee looked away, past the deck to the pale line of surf washing across the darkened beach. She wanted what Leon and Arianne had – a life with someone they loved – but the thought of losing it again scared the hell out of her. Stopped her from getting to the next bit, even when she wanted to.

Leon took hold of her hand. ‘You know the start is over when someone says, “We’re having so much fun, it’s probably safe to book two tickets for that show in six weeks.”’

She took a breath, blew it out. ‘Six weeks is a long time. A lot can happen.’

Arianne held her other hand. ‘If it doesn’t work out, you can always give your ticket away and come to my place for dinner.’

Dee knew Arianne would always be there for her but it wouldn’t stop her getting hurt. ‘I can’t afford to buy tickets to expensive shows and just give them away. I haven’t even got furniture yet.’

‘Okay, the analogy isn’t making a lot of sense now,’ Leon said. ‘But the point is, to move a relationship to the next bit, you might have to broaden your concept of future.’

Dee walked to the railing and propped herself against it. The analogy was easier to talk about. ‘It hurts when you have to cancel your tickets.’

The empathy in Arianne’s eyes caught the soft light spilling from the restaurant. ‘It does. But not every man is going to leave you with tickets. Not every man is an Anthony.’

Dee turned her back. How would she know which ones were going to be Anthonys?

‘And what about Lindall?’ Leon said. ‘Her boyfriend left her stranded in LA and she made a killing as a yoga teacher to the stars. Helluva payback.’

Dee took a deep breath, glad for an opportunity to move the conversation on. The future and all its Anthonys could stay in their lock-box. She smiled as she faced them again. ‘Whatever happened to that guy?’

‘Gone to the Anthony Hall of Fame for Arseholes.’ Leon’s big, fat grin made Dee smile. ‘By the way, Lindall’s in town tomorrow on a stop-over. I’m picking her up after the demo. She’s staying the night then flying out to New Zealand. You should come see her.’