Authors: Rosalind James
Kate was deep into the zone, all her attention focused on
the fiscal report she was preparing, when she gradually became aware that the usually
bustling office had become silent. She glanced up from her computer, turned
towards the doorway. And stared.
There was Koti, walking through the room with his loping
stride. He wasn’t looking around him, though, or greeting the other women with
his usual cheeky grin. He was staring straight at her.
That wasn’t what was so different, though. It was the
hoodie.
Pink.
Bright
pink. With—she squinted. Why was it
sparkling? Were those
sequins?
He kept walking, never breaking eye contact with her, no smile
on his face. Came to a stop at last in front of her desk. Looked down at her
where she sat, frozen.
“Why?” she finally asked.
“Came to tell you I lost,” he told her.
“You lost. What? The bet? I thought we both lost, months
ago.”
“Nah. You won. Because I can’t be friends with you anymore.
Or lovers either. I need more. And I have something to offer now. Starting for
the All Blacks, for the November tests in Europe. I got one thing I’ve gone
after. Time to go after the other one. Harden up and ask for it.”
“Oh, Koti,” she said, standing up and putting her hands on
his pink forearms, looking up into his eyes. “You always had something to
offer. Don’t you know that?”
“What does that mean? What kind of answer is that?” he asked,
beginning to look worried.
“I don’t know. What’s the question? And why are you wearing
a pink sweatshirt to ask it?” She began to laugh even as she felt the tears
threatening to spill.
“Because I want you to know that I’m putting myself on the
line. Win or lose. No shame. That I’m yours, and I always will be. I love you,
and I want to live my life with you. I want to have kids with you, watch them
grow up. I want to get old with you. I want to die with you holding my hand.”
“So.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m asking is, will you
stay here with me? Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said simply, the tears falling in earnest now.
“Of course I will. Because I love you too. Because you’re wonderful.”
He put his arms around her, lifted her off her feet. Bent
down to kiss her. Kate wrapped her arms around his shoulders, felt the sequins
on the ridiculous pink sweatshirt under her hands. And kissed him back as the
room erupted in applause.
When he finally put her down, his voice wasn’t quite steady.
“That’s what I was hoping. Wasn’t sure, though. Figured I’d get under your
defenses.”
“But Koti,” she told him, grabbing a handful of pink to wipe
her eyes. “I’ve lost too, don’t you realize? I just said you were wonderful, in
the middle of the office. And I kissed you. I’m afraid we’ve both lost. What a
pair.”
“Reckon we’ve both won, though,” he said, laughing a little
with relief and joy as he continued to hold her against him. “You’d better shut
down, because I’m taking you out of here. We’re going ring shopping. I didn’t dare
buy it first.”
“That’s good, because I want to choose it with you. I just
have one condition.”
“Oh no,” he groaned. “I can see I’m going to have to put out
another poster to afford this. Or pose in my undies.”
“Nope. This one’s free,” she assured him. She pushed him
into her chair. Reached down and grabbed the pink sweatshirt by the hem, then
pulled it over his head, shoving it into her wastebasket.
“It’s almost summer,” she told him. “And I’m not going
anywhere with you in this disgusting thing. We’re going to walk down the street,
and everyone can look all they want at you. And I’ll glare right back at them.
Because you’re mine now.”
“Too right,” he grinned. “From now on, I’ll have you there
to protect my virtue.”
“From now on,” she agreed tenderly, “you will.”
Hear the songs, explore the
places, and find out what’s new at the
Read on for an excerpt from
Available now for the
Kindle.
The
Escape to New Zealand
series:
Hannah and Drew’s story:
JUST
THIS ONCE
Kate and Koti’s story:
JUST GOOD
FRIENDS
Jenna and Finn’s story:
JUST FOR NOW
Emma and Nic’s story:
JUST
FOR FUN
(Available December 8, 2012)
Special thanks to
Dean Morier, Ph.D., Professor of Psychology, Mills College, Oakland, CA, for
his assistance with stalker psychology.
Cover design by Robin
Ludwig Design Inc.,
http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/
Well, that had been a waste of an hour.
Jenna switched her car off in the underground garage, then
reached into the back seat to pull out the large messenger bag holding her
student files. If she’d seen Richard’s text before setting out, she’d have
realized the meeting had been canceled and could have saved herself the trip.
Oh, well. It was still only 7:45. Plenty of time to bake some cookies to take
into the teachers’ lounge tomorrow.
By the time she entered the black-and-white-tiled foyer of
the modern flat overlooking Wellington Harbour, she had added a bread pudding
to the list. That would give her a jump on tomorrow night’s dinner. Jeremy
wouldn’t eat it, of course. He was watching his diet more carefully than ever
these days, and spending more time in the gym too. But it was one of her own
favorites. And it was just bread, eggs, and milk, right? That was healthy,
surely.
“I’m home!” she called. That was odd. Jeremy hadn’t said he
was going out. She dumped her purse and bag and made her way to the back of the
flat. Maybe he’d gone to bed early. He’d seemed a little quiet earlier that
evening, and she’d wondered if he were under the weather.
She got as far as the bedroom doorway. And froze. She saw
the two figures on the bed, but her mind refused to acknowledge the truth of
the scene unfolding so clearly before her. She stood rigid, mouth half-open in
shock. Until Jeremy looked up and froze himself.
“Jenna. What . . . why are you home?” He scrambled to his
feet, grabbed a shirt from the floor and held it pathetically, ridiculously, in
front of himself.
Jenna held her hands out in front of her, backed away.
“Sorry. Sorry. I’m just . . . I’ll . . . I’m going.”
She ran down the hall, back to the foyer. Grabbed up her
bags again, looked around wildly for her keys. Why weren’t they on the hook?
She needed her keys. She needed to leave.
Jeremy hurried down the hall towards her. He’d managed to
pull his pants on, was struggling to zip them as he ran. “Wait, Jenna. I can
explain. Hang on.”
Her keys were in her hand, she realized through her fog of
panic. Purse. Bag. Keys. Out the door. She stood in the hallway, punching the
button for the lift. Jeremy was there with her now, still barechested, reaching
for her arm.
“Don’t leave. We need to talk about this. Jenna, come on.
You must have known.”
She stared at him. “No. No.”
Finally, blessedly, the
ding
that announced the
arriving lift. And the brushed steel doors sliding smoothly open, letting her
in. Letting her escape.
Twenty months later
“I like your dog.”
Jenna looked down at the little boy, short blond hair rising
in a comical double cowlick, blue eyes bright behind steel-framed glasses, who
had come up to join her. “He’s nice, isn’t he? Do you want to throw the ball
for him?”
“Yeh,” he breathed. “Will he chase it?”
“That’s his very favorite thing,” she assured him. “Oscar!
Come!” The Golden Retriever bounded over from where he’d been distracted by a
friendly Labrador. “Sit,” she told him firmly, before handing the ball to the
boy. “Here you go. It’s a little slobbery. But if you don’t mind that, give it
a throw.”
The boy laughed with delight as the dog twisted to catch the
ball in mid-air, then bounded back with it, dropping it at his feet.
“Throw it again, if you like,” Jenna urged. “He’ll do it
over and over. He loves it.”
“That’s because he’s a retriever,” the boy told her
knowledgeably as he gave the ball another awkward toss. “That’s his job.”
“You’re right. You know about dogs, huh? Do you have one
yourself?”
“Nah,” he said sadly. “Dad says Nyree has enough to do. And
he says I’m not old enough to be responsible. I
am,
though. I’d be very
responsible.”
“So you’re just here looking at the dogs today?”
He nodded, threw the ball again for an eager Oscar. “Nyree said
a few minutes.” He looked up as a comfortably built Maori woman approached,
together with a girl who looked to be seven or eight. “Can I stay a bit
longer?” he pleaded. “I’m throwing the ball. And Oscar
likes
it. He
wants me to throw it.”
“Time to go,” the woman said. “Sophie’s not as keen on
watching the dogs as you are. Not fair to keep her hanging about any longer.
Besides, you want to climb to the top, don’t you?”
“Yeh, I s’pose,” he said reluctantly.
“Hi.” Jenna put her hand out to the other woman. “I’m Jenna
McKnight. You must be Nyree.”
The older woman smiled. “Nyree Akara. Harry and Sophie’s
nanny.”
“I’m guessing you’re not Harry,” Jenna said to the little
girl, her brown hair touching her shoulders, large brown eyes serious in her
heart-shaped face. “So that leaves Sophie.”
“Hello,” Sophie said, shaking Jenna’s hand politely in her
turn. “Harry’s my brother.”
“The dog lover. Oscar and I need to go too. We’ll walk out
with you.”
“He isn’t actually my dog either,” Jenna confessed as she
attached Oscar’s lead and accompanied the others out of the fenced area. “I’m
just like you, Harry. I’d love to have a dog, but I can’t manage one right now.
Your dad’s right, it’s a big responsibility. So I borrowed a friend’s today.
Thanks for helping me give him some exercise.”
She smiled at the group and said her goodbyes, then began to
jog down the road. It was a four-kilometer run back to Natalie’s flat, and
she’d told Nat’s neighbor Eileen that she’d have Oscar back by five.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said that evening over the quick
dinner she’d prepared for her friend. “I was planning to look for another café
job. But I don’t know. I really miss working with kids.”
“Hard to find a post in the middle of the school year,”
Natalie pointed out.
“I know. But I might at least check out possibilities in
Auckland for next year. And maybe look into substitute positions for now.
Because I do like it here.”
“What I told you,” Natalie agreed. “Much warmer than
Wellington. Less windy, too. You need a change anyway. More of a change. You’ve
already done the physical bit. I was gobsmacked when I first saw you. I’d
hardly have known you.”
Jenna shrugged. “The Divorce Diet. That’s what they call it.
A decidedly mixed blessing.”
“It wasn’t just the dieting, though,” Natalie said. “It was
more the running, I’m thinking. What made you start with that? Last thing I
would’ve expected from you.”
“It was after you moved up here,” Jenna explained. “After
the separation. It wasn’t part of any grand life plan. More running away,
really. Literally. I’d leave school and I’d think, go home and sit watching
telly with my flatmate, or get out? And I had to get out. The worse my life
looked, the more I ran. And the more I ran, the more I liked it. It made it
easier to eat better. And then I started to look different, and . . .” She
shrugged. “It was like there was this one thing that was actually improving. My
life was a mess, but hey, something was working.”
“Maybe I should give it a go, d’you reckon?”
“What, running? Or getting your heart broken?” Jenna smiled
wryly. “I recommend the first. But I can’t say much for the heartbreak thing.”
“Jenna!”
She turned, Oscar on the lead this time, to see Harry
running up the final bit of the path to the observation area at the edge of the
enormous volcanic crater that was Mt. Eden. Nyree puffed up the slope after him
with Sophie following behind, dribbling a soccer ball.
“Hi, Oscar!” Harry thumped a willing Oscar vigorously on the
shoulder, then laughed as the dog swiped a tongue over his cheek in welcome.
“He remembers me!”
“He sure does. You’re his friend for life, now that you’ve
thrown the ball for him. You guys are playing soccer today, huh?”
“Just Sophie,” Harry said dismissively. “Nyree kicks it with
her, not me.”
“I see that,” Jenna watched Sophie execute an intricate
dribble, followed by an accurate kick to Nyree, who trapped it neatly with a
foot and sent it cleanly back to the little girl. “You don’t like soccer?”
“Nah. It’s boring. I like animals best. D’you like animals
too? Besides dogs?”
“I do. All kinds. Even extinct ones. How do you feel about
dinosaurs? They’re some of my favorites.”
Harry stared at her, awestruck. “I
love
dinosaurs,”
he breathed. “But there are hardly any dinosaur fossils in New Zealand, did you
know that?” He sighed. “I saw a bit of a foot in the museum once. But that was
all.”
“That
is
a little disappointing. On the other hand,
New Zealand was the only place that had moa. And moa were very cool. It’s hard
to imagine a bird that big, isn’t it? Twice as tall as an emu. Have you seen
emu?”