One Little White Lie (8 page)

Kate smiled at him. ‘You should!'

‘I should what?'

‘Read one of his books. Trust me, once you start you'll never look back.'

Henry swallowed. ‘That good, huh?'

‘Absolutely.' Her eyes glowed. ‘Personally, I read them again and again. And when I'm feeling sad, I have this particular one, the second one in the trilogy, that never fails to
pick me up. I don't know, there's just something about his way of telling things that resonates with me.'

Her words affected him like a physical touch. Not only because of the manner in which they were uttered, but because her opinion meant so much to him. He was dying to ask her what she thought of a particular scene or if she liked a character that was dear to his heart, but the words caught in his throat.

‘I've just never read another author that's affected me as much. I adore his work,' she continued. ‘To be honest, I've always had a hankering to meet him.'

Suddenly he was in the alarming position of being jealous of himself, making it impossible to squeeze more than an ‘Oh right' out of his mouth.

Perhaps his brother was right. Perhaps all women were preoccupied with capturing the attention of H. L. Carter. Was there no escape from his damn author persona? The last thing he needed in his life was a love triangle between himself, Kate and the alter ego that was starting to take on a life of its own.

The waiter arrived at that point to remove their empty plates and give them their dessert menus. He picked up his own distractedly. Emotions warred within his brain as the past crept in to disturb his present. He inserted a finger into his collar and tugged. What should he do?

Duh! Tell her the truth.

Kate's brows wrinkled as she cast a tentative look at him. ‘Are you OK?'

He looked up, surprised that she could read him so easily. ‘Do you want to skip dessert and go for a walk? We need to talk. I mean … really talk.'

 

Something had changed between dinner and dessert and she wasn't sure quite what. Henry had lost that carefree expression on his face, but she didn't feel close enough to him to ask why. As they exited the restaurant, a gentle breeze hit her, rejuvenating not only her skin but her soul.

The fact was, she had really taken pleasure from tonight. If she were honest, Henry's proposition had worked. He didn't need three dates. This one had been enough.

A delightful sensation crept up her arm as she felt his fingers suddenly entwine with hers. She didn't pull away this time, but nervously kept her eyes on the surroundings. They left the centre of The Rocks and strolled down the sandstone-paved street to the edge of the cove. Lamplights sparkled on the water and she could hear rather than see the gentle lapping of tiny waves. They didn't say anything, just for the moment content to enjoy each other's company.

This is how a relationship should be.

Carefree.

Easy.

Peaceful.

No drama, no lies, just togetherness.

They reached the water's edge and she turned to him.

‘You know what,' she breathed, ‘I'm really glad you pretended to be my fake boyfriend and everything. It was the most disgraceful, outrageous, shocking thing anyone has ever done to me. But I don't regret a single second of it. It was the most thrilling ride I've ever been on.'

He lifted his hands and captured her face between both palms. ‘Really?'

‘I'd do it again in a heartbeat.'

They stared at each other for what seemed like an interminable moment.

‘Look, Kate, there's something I need to tell you. I –'

The shrill buzz of his phone broke the moment. He groaned and pulled back. ‘Sorry, just a second.' He answered the call.

‘Hello?'

Kate watched the brief play of emotions cross his face. ‘Tom, hi, listen … what? Slow down, I can't understand … Now? …
Seriously
?' He frowned and then after a few seconds hung up, not looking too happy.

‘Is everything all right?' she asked.

He put his phone back in his pocket. ‘My brother needs me. He says it's an emergency.'

Her eyes widened. ‘He's not hurt, is he?'

‘If he isn't, he will be by the time I'm done with him.'

She blushed and he wistfully touched her cheek. ‘I'm really sorry that I have to leave. Can I call you about date number two?'

She was disappointed but respected Henry's loyalty to his family. In fact, it was one of the qualities she liked most about him. How could she knock a man who cared in a crisis? Her lips stretched into a smile. ‘No worries.'

Henry's car rolled into the driveway of his apartment building. He saw his brother's black BMW parked in one of the visitor bays.

This better be good!

He swiped his security card at a black scanner beside the lifts in the foyer and rode the elevator up to his level. His brother was sitting on the couch reading a newspaper when he walked into his apartment. If this was an emergency, it sure didn't look like one. ‘
Tom
?'

‘Where have you been?' his brother demanded as though he was the one being put out. ‘I've been waiting here all evening. You know, you really should find a better place to hide your spare key. Under the mat is way too obvious.'

Henry's temper snapped. ‘Who cares about the key! I was out with Kate and you just ruined a perfectly good evening. I thought you were in real trouble.'

He closed the door, threw his coat and keys on a conveniently placed hall table and advanced further into the room.

‘I'm not the one who's in trouble. It's you. That girl is no good for you.'

‘Oh, for goodness sake,' Henry retorted. ‘This is what you interrupted my evening for? More gold-digger propaganda. Couldn't it have waited? I was just about to tell Kate I'm H. L. Carter.'

Tom's eyes widened. ‘But you didn't?'

‘No, I –'

‘Good,
don't
.'

Henry rolled his eyes. ‘Tom, have you thought about getting a hobby? I mean,
other
than bossing me around.'

Tom folded up the newspaper and set it aside. ‘I just spent an illuminating afternoon with your friend Mark Lowden and I don't like what I'm hearing.'

This did give Henry pause. ‘He wouldn't take a settlement?'

‘No, he took one all right,' Tom grimaced. ‘But not a small one. He kept holding out for more money once he knew who you were. Greedy little shit. If his ex is anything like him –'

‘She's not. And I don't care about the money. As long as he's out of my life'
– and Kate's
, he added silently – ‘he can have as much as he wants.'

‘I wouldn't go that far.' Tom leaned forward, head bowed, hands clasped. ‘We're not pushovers.'

Seeing that his brother was warming up to a long conversation, Henry ducked into the kitchen, grabbed two bottles of beer from his double-door fridge, popped their caps off and brought them back to the lounge room.

‘Here.' He held one out to Tom before seating himself in the armchair across from him. ‘You better tell me what's really bothering you.'

‘That Mark fellow had a bit of story to tell about your Kate. He reckons she was with him because he was a doctor. She took him to the cleaners when they broke up. Hopes she'll do the same to you.'

Henry snorted with disgust. ‘And you believed him? That guy has sour grapes written all over him.' He tossed his beer back.

‘I see this isn't new information to you,' Tom's grimaced. ‘Mark said something to you too, didn't he? That's why you hit him.'

Henry gritted his teeth. ‘I don't like his style.'

‘Hey,' Tom held up his hands in surrender, ‘I'm not a big fan of the guy either, but a person like you … Henry, you've got to be careful.' He paused for effect. ‘That's why I got you this.'

‘Got me what?'

Tom held up a slim folder that until this moment had been sitting on the couch beside him. Henry eyed it with suspicion.

‘Now I had to call in a few favours to get this,' Tom announced with the air of someone who was about to be thanked. ‘But it's all there. Every last bit of it. You're lucky you've got a brother who's a lawyer, let me tell you.'

Henry homed in on the only part of the explanation that mattered.

‘Every last bit of what?'

‘Information on Kate Dreson,' Tom replied as though it were a foregone conclusion. He held out the file to Henry, who then saw Kate's name printed in black ink on the beige front. ‘Here, take it.'

Henry nearly dropped his beer as Realisation struck him. ‘You had her
investigated
!' He stepped back from the file as though it were a six-eyed alien with a laser gun.

‘That's OK.' Tom shrugged. ‘You can thank me later.'

‘I don't want to thank you,' Henry retorted. ‘
Kick
you, now that's a whole different story!'

For the first time since the conversation had begun, Tom realised they weren't on the same page. ‘I beg your pardon?'

‘You're unbelievable!' Henry threw up his hands.

Tom laid the file on the coffee table next to the newspaper and a pile of magazines. His brow wrinkled in confusion. ‘What's got your goat now?'

‘I would
never
ask you to do something like this.'

‘Yes, yes, I know, I know.' Tom waved away his protest. ‘But after I spoke to Mark Lowden I knew I had to have this girl checked to make sure you weren't doing anything stupid, like falling for yet another gold-digger.'

‘Tom,' Henry tried to get through to him, ‘I'm
not
reading that. Take it back with you when you leave.'

‘Oh, come on.' Tom's voice tempted him like the snake in the Tree of Knowledge. ‘Aren't you in the least bit curious?'

Henry folded his arms, his eyes narrowing on Tom's devilish expression. ‘No.'

‘Really?'

‘Yes.'

‘
Really?
'

Henry ran his hands into his hair, clutching at his dark locks in frustration. ‘You,' he stabbed a finger at Tom, ‘are out of line. This is a huge invasion of Kate's privacy. It's immoral.'

‘Henry, you need facts.'

‘I happen to trust Kate. My gut tells me –'

But Tom cut him off. ‘That's just it. Guts by definition digest food. They are not privy to life-changing decisions. Those sorts of things were decided upon by your brain, usually after you have collected together a series of indisputable facts and considered them for a solid period. That's all I've done for you.'

‘Thank you, counsel, but I don't need your help or your advice.'

‘I think you do. I'll have you know she's as poor as a church mouse. She's got motive if ever I saw it. Mark was right about a few other things too. She was financially dependent on him for a couple of years. When they broke up –'

Henry held up his palms. ‘I don't want to hear this.'

‘Just read it,' Tom insisted.

Henry shook his head. ‘Look, Tom, when Mum left Dad, I know that was hard on you. It was hard on me too. But I'm not going to take out her sins on all women.'

‘You're more forgiving than me,' Tom retorted grimly. ‘Especially given your relationship track record. It's not exactly glowing with success stories.'

Henry frowned as he considered the beginning and end of his last relationship. Fiona had told him everything he wanted to hear when they were first starting out, tailoring her behaviour exactly to his needs. She liked the same things, wanted children some day, believed in his work.

And then he'd told her about this idea he had for using a sizable portion of his money to create a charitable organization that looked after homeless or abandoned kids. She'd flipped out. All of a sudden it became apparent that she'd marked his money for her own and was anxious not to see his spending power reduced in any way, shape or form.

Was he destined for this sort of treatment from Kate too?

‘Look, I'm not saying don't see her.' Tom's voice was a tempting lilt. ‘I'm just saying keep H. L. Carter in the closet till the time is right.'

Henry reflected guiltily on his behaviour that evening, knowing that on at least some level he had a fear of being betrayed. The fact was, it had been so liberating without the banner of his writing pseudonym flashing over his head. There were no author head shots on his books or on his website. Kate would never find out who he was unless he told her. In three months and one week, the media would do it for him.

Were a couple more dates with her incognito really that bad? A couple more dates for both of them to decide whether they wanted to be together. Was it wrong for him to want her to prove herself as well? He voiced his guilt. ‘I don't know, I don't want to lie to her again. It's not right.'

‘It's not lying, it's just leaving something out,' Tom continued. ‘One little white lie. No biggie. She'll understand when you tell her the truth.'

For a moment, the two men just stood there in silence until Tom broke it, his voice gruff. ‘Just think about it. OK?'

It was unfortunate that an hour before his next date with Kate, Henry's mother decided to do one of her pop-in drop-ins. Ever since she had moved to town after her last husband divorced her, she'd been prone to these unannounced visits at least once a fortnight. It was one of the many reasons Tom thanked his lucky stars that she had not targeted him for forgiveness.

When he was younger Henry used to crave a mother who wanted to check up on him. Somehow, however, he wasn't sure that this was exactly what the former Mrs Carter was doing.

Tom warned him repeatedly that his mother, who now went by her maiden name Angelina Sparemont, was only living close by because he was rich and she was single.

‘Women like Mum need a sponsor,' Tom had explained. ‘Unfortunately, at the moment, you're it.'

Maybe she did need someone to write her the occasional cheque for the lifestyle she had got used to. But surely there was some part of her that wanted to get to know him better? When she had first come to town she'd been all tears, begging him not to hate her for all that she had ‘not done' for him as a child. Having wondered and thought about her for most of his life, he couldn't turn her away. If he were truly honest, the words she had spoken to him that day had been like a kid's day dream come true.

‘I haven't forgotten you … I
do
love you … Forgive me.'

He had wanted to believe that she'd changed, so he'd invited her into his life.

They went out to dinner at least once a month now and seemed to be building some sort of relationship, though in two years had yet to deepen it.

He blamed that on the fact they had little in common.

Angelina Sparemont loved shopping, travelling and eating out. And while Henry wasn't averse to any of these things, he didn't feel you could base your whole life on them. He could talk books and writing with most people. But, unfortunately, Angelina didn't read anything except the latest celebrity tabloids, and that was mainly in order to compare their lifestyle to hers. They made the best of it with conversations about the weather and what they were eating.

Nevertheless he was prepared to put in the hard yards, for years if necessary, to build a connection with Angelina. After all, as he told Tom, she
was
their mother.

Still, that particular Saturday morning he wished she'd called first.

‘Hello, darling.' She whipped into the room in an over-scented whirl of colour, dressed to the nines in a dashing red pants suit, accessorized by thick gold hoop earrings and a rainbow-striped scarf. ‘So glad I caught you, I have news!'

‘You do?'

She pressed her hands together. ‘Russell and I are getting married!'

He blinked. ‘Who's Russell?'

You would think that if she'd been seeing someone she would have mentioned it. He swallowed his hurt in order to listen.

‘Russell Bearesford, the dearest man. He understands me like no one else ever has.'

Henry's jaw dropped. ‘As in the Fortune 500 Hotel Bearesford Chain?'

Angelina winked. ‘He owns that too.'

‘I see.' In fact, he was afraid that he was seeing much more than he wanted to.

‘Anyway, the wedding is tomorrow –'

‘Tomorrow!'

She blushed as something seemed to occur to her. ‘I didn't invite you because I know how busy you are on your Carnology novels.'

‘That's Carnegia.'

‘Oh yes, that's right.' Her hands fluttered self-consciously about her face. ‘Besides, Russell just wanted a small ceremony, close friends and family only.'

Right
.

His mother continued, ‘I popped by because after that we're going to Hawaii for our honeymoon and then I'm moving to New York to live with him in his home there.'

‘So you came to say goodbye.'

‘Huh?' Her wrinkled brow suddenly cleared. ‘Oh yes! I mean, of course. Of course that's why I came! To say goodbye and give you a kiss. It's been so lovely living close to you.' She hugged his stiff body impetuously. ‘There
is
just one other thing I wanted to discuss,' she added as her hand dipped into her bag. ‘I bought Russell a wedding gift and it was kind of expensive and, you know me, always living on the fringe …' She gave a little titter. ‘It would be very poor form to ask Russell to pay for his own present. So,' she withdrew a piece of paper, ‘I was wondering, darling boy, if you'd be a dear and just take care of it for me?'

He took the piece of paper and unfolded it. It was an invoice for a diamond-studded watch worth two thousand dollars.

‘Just something to show my love,' his mother explained warmly. ‘Now I really must go. So much to do before the wedding and all. You know how it is.'

He looked up from the paper to find her standing by the front door again and barely found his voice in time. ‘How will I contact you? What's your number in New York?'

She put a hand to her chin. ‘I have no idea. Tell you what, after the dust settles I'll email you.'

Email?

With a wave of her hand, she was over the threshold and out the door, leaving him with the sinking feeling that he probably wouldn't hear from her for a very long time. He scrunched up her invoice in his fist and threw it, feeling like a fish that had just been gutted.

There was no use defending her to Tom anymore. He had to face the now obvious fact: she
had
been stringing him along until a better ‘sponsor' presented himself.

The muscles in his neck tightened, almost choking him. This was the price of success and fame. He had been of two minds as to whether to tell Kate about H. L. Carter that day. But now the decision seemed obvious. Being too trusting got you nowhere except used, abused and dumped.

Was being sure Kate was the real deal really such a crime?

Or was he letting his mother ruin something else in his life?

Pushing down his doubts, he got in his car and drove to Bondi where they had agreed to meet for lunch.

Bondi Beach was one of Henry's favourite summer hangouts, especially when the weather wasn't too hot. The crescent-shaped beach was framed up by comfortable cafes and trendy restaurants. The famous lifeguards patrolled vigilantly between the yellow and red flags, governing a coastline of bronzed bodies, skilled surfers and families just out enjoying the view. That day, mother nature had planned a beauty. The sunshine sparkled on the water. White-tipped waves lapped sand warm enough to walk on but not burn your feet on. Kate was waiting for him outside the Bondi Pavillion, the old but majestic cultural centre located right on the waterfront.

The sight of her lifted his mood. Dressed in a simple strappy white dress, which revealed rather than hid the fact that she was wearing her bathers underneath, Kate looked like she was ready for a fun day out. He put his mother firmly out of his mind. She was gone.
But Kate was real and here. He couldn't let what had transpired that morning cast a shadow over this meeting.

 

Like a teenager waiting for her boyfriend after school, Kate's heart fluttered in her chest when she saw Henry advancing up the shoreline towards her. Manly and long-limbed, his hair ruffled by the wind, he definitely looked good enough to eat. She had been excited all week about this date, her anticipation only increased by the text message she'd received from him just before bed last night.

Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.

Honestly, the message in all its ordinariness could have been sent from anyone. But she'd hugged the phone to her chest like it was news she'd just won a thousand dollars. Then, with a stupid grin on her face that belonged only in high school, she had messaged him back.

Me too.

As he got closer, she noticed something in his face. A kind of tension that she had never seen before and wondered if everything was OK. However, when he got within speaking distance his expression cleared and she had to wonder if she'd been imagining things.

‘Hungry?' he asked.

‘Starved.'

Holding hands they went off to buy fish and chips. They ate them on the beach, chatting easily about what they'd been up to that week. She noticed that she did most of the talking, regaling him with the success she'd had with her research and the fact that her thesis was back on track. She reasoned that he must still have writer's block and so, not wanting to
get him down, didn't push him to talk about it. At the same time, she didn't want to talk about herself for the next hour either.

‘Is everything OK? You've been a little quiet today.'

‘Have I?' He ran a hand through his already windswept hair and looked away. ‘I guess you could say I've had some bad news this week. My mum's moving to New York.'

‘Oh.' She felt his disappointment. ‘That's a shame.'

She knew from their last conversation that his mother being in town was important to him. That he wanted to build a relationship he thought he'd lost.

‘Well, at least New York is a cool place to visit. Start saving for a holiday.'

He nodded, a strange look crossing his face. ‘I'll do that.'

Her gaze followed his to the water. ‘Do you want to go for a swim?'

His expression lost its shuttered look. ‘Don't we have to wait half an hour or something?'

‘I never do,' she laughed.

‘Well, I'm not throwing up in front of you. How will that get me a third date?'

‘I think you've already got one,' she said, and then undid the strings that tied her dress together to reveal her bikini.

Lying back on a towel beside him, she loved the way his eyes tore over her hungrily.

‘Now
that
is not playing fair,' he growled. ‘Maybe I do need a cold dip.'

She sat up eagerly. ‘Race you to the water!'

‘Hey!'

But she was already up and away, kicking sand onto their towels as she tore off. Her feet were just about to hit the surf when she felt herself grabbed from behind, lifted and spun above the waves.

‘Do you ever play fair?' a voice laughed in her ear.

Kate was no longer interested in swimming. Henry had ripped off his shirt before chasing after her and the sensation of skin against skin had her tongue tied in double knots.

‘Guess what?' he said. ‘Neither do I.'

And then, unceremoniously, she was dumped in the water. It was freezing! But she came up laughing.

‘You ratbag!'

She lunged at him, aiming to push him down. As their bodies collided for the second time he held her fast, bending his head to take her lips in a quick, teasing kiss.

But they were never meant to kiss just once.

Or in a teasing fashion.

With the first taste out of the way, he lifted his hands and captured her face between both palms. Their eyes locked momentarily as a wave of emotion she neither recognised nor understood swept across his face. Then he kissed her again.

Stars burst behind her eyes and her bones pooled at her feet. His thumbs caressed her cheeks and then slid down her neck till his hands rested lightly on her shoulders.

Kissing, as far as she recalled, had never felt this good or this right. Never produced such an absolute sense of belonging. Never made her feel that this was the only place she was ever meant to be. She moaned softly in protest as he finally pulled away, her body tingling with desire.

A gentle breeze swept her hair about her face. The sound of waves and seagulls was utterly over-powered by the pounding of her heart. She breathed deep, looking up into his dark, slightly closed eyes and gave his chest one almighty push so that he fell back spluttering in the waves.

‘I still think you're a ratbag!' she laughed and raced off.