Margaret Thompson glanced at Peter and Jayden from where she stood in the kitchen, armed with a knife and chopping board. She wondered what they were doing, sitting there for almost an hour now, staring at the BlackBerry that was on the coffee table. It looked as though they were daring it to ring, so intense they were at their task. The air was thick with tension and anticipation. The telephone on the side table beside Peter shrilled out, causing the two men to jump. They glanced at each other. Peter ignored the ringing phone beside him that seriously demanded his attention and leaned closer to his BlackBerry. A second later, the continuous buzzing was starting to annoy the men. They both frowned at the damn thing and demanded it to shut up. Peter said, “Mum, aren’t you going to get that?” Margaret looked up, her green eyes peering above her spectacles at Peter, her red hair bright and glowing under the light. “I’m busy, Peter. Aren’t you going to pick it up?” “I’m waiting for an
Jayden wandered along the hallway, cursing himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he showing so much interest toward Alex? And why did he have to stand so close to her just then? No, wait. Pause right there, hot shot! He knew why. It was because she smelled great, like spring or something. He wasn’t able to help himself because he wanted to smell her again after she had squeezed past him through the entrance door into the hallway. It wasn’t a strong, perfumery smell like most of the women used back in New York, but rather a subtle scent, just a hint of lovely floral that pricked his interest, just a hint that made him want to inhale more. He reached the bathroom door, put one hand on the knob, and knocked lightly a couple of times with the other. When he didn’t hear any reply, he opened the door slightly and popped his head in. He saw her busy cleaning herself with some Kleenex. She had her jersey off, which was lying on the floor. She was wearing only her white single
In the dimly lit dining room, Jayden watched Alex from across the table. She had on his dark-grey jumper. It was way too big for her person, but she managed to make it look as though it fit her perfectly, with the sleeves rolled up to her slim forearms. “So how’s the house renovation going, Pete?” Alex asked, glancing up from her plate of roasted pork and various veggies. “Not too well,” Peter said. “Did I tell you about that mold?” Alex shook her head as she popped some pork into her mouth. “We have to take down the walls. God, more labor costs and more materials needed now,” he mumbled. “And Tracy is not very happy.” “I’m sure I wouldn’t be happy either,” Alex commented, thinking about the amount of money needed for a house renovation. “So, Alex,” Mr. Thompson said from across the table, sipping his glass of white wine. Alex looked over at Dr. Mark Thompson, who had only arrived five minutes before dinner. He had been busy at the Dunedin Public Hospital and at the lab. Well, a
Eight Weeks Later NEW YORK CITY, USA Alex was tired and frustrated. Finally, she thought with some small triumph, she had arrived in New York City. Now standing there in the lobby of LaGuardia Airport, she just wanted to collapse on the floor and rest. Where was Jayden anyway? Oh, God! What if he forgot to come and get her? Well, she couldn’t blame him if he had because she was late. She was supposed to arrive yesterday afternoon. But being the clumsy, inexperienced traveler she was, she managed to miss the flight from Sydney to Los Angeles and then the rest was history. She was still upset she missed that flight. It was first class. Now she would never know what it was like sitting in that luxurious, comfy seat with the airhostess serving her every need. Damn! Turning her attention back to her dilemma, she thought if she didn’t see Jay within the next five minutes, she’d take a taxi and check into the nearest hotel. Then she’d give him a ring to tell him where she was. She dragged
Alexandra had the most horrible headache ever. She flashed her eyes open and rubbed her temple, swearing silently. The bright sunlight didn’t help either. She squinted and gritted her teeth. “Good afternoon, sleepy head.” She snapped her eyes open, wondering who was in the room with her. She licked her lips and turned to look behind her. Jayden was standing just at the end of the bed, hands in the pockets of his trousers. His white shirt was unbuttoned halfway, showing off his muscular chest. Oh my God! He was so handsome—just like a devilishly hot Calvin Klein model. She had no doubt he was wearing Calvin Klein anyway. Then she wondered why Jay asked her to be his fake girlfriend when he could have chosen someone prettier—someone like Mary St. Clair. But then again, Jay was gay. Because he wasn’t interested in women, he wouldn’t know which was hot, which was pretty, and which was plain like her. That explained why he wasn’t affected by Mary’s famous charm. God made him a perfect cr
How does one work this blasted thing? Alex wondered as she stared at her BlackBerry. She searched through the menu, found the call section, and started dialing. She brought the BlackBerry to her ear and waited as the ringing noise continued. A moment later, she heard her brother’s voice saying, “Hello, Tim speaking.” “Hey, Tim, it’s me.” “Alex?” He chuckled. “Man, you sound weird and so far away.” “Of course I’m far away. I’m in America.” “You got there all right, huh?” “Yeah, I’m here safe and sound.” “Cool.” “Hey, how’s Mum and Dad?” she asked, wondering if her dad was taking things easy or was he up to his old, stubborn self again and working hard. “Dad is taking things easy. Mum makes sure of that.” Alex sighed with relief. “That’s good. Is Mum there?” “Yeah. Hold on a sec.” A few seconds later, Alex heard her mum’s voice through the phone. “Hey, sweetheart. Glad to hear your voice. I’m worried, you know. I know you’re a big girl now. Your dad’s doing well. I make sure
Jayden never thought Beth would interrogate Alex as though she were a suspect in a murder case. Alex kept looking at him for guidance every time Beth fired a question at her. As if any of that were important, Jay thought gloomily. He rested his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. He could feel a headache coming. “Heard your girlfriend has finally arrived,” a voice said at the door. Jay flashed his eyes open to see his dad, Tom McCartney, standing there with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. Tall, brown hair, and grey eyes—and right then dressed in a Zegna suit—he looked handsome and powerful. He must have just returned from the McCartney Hotel. “Hey, Dad,” he greeted. “Yeah, Alex is here.” Tom came to sit beside his son. “You don’t look too happy.” Jay thought his dad could say that again. “Beth.” “Ah, Beth,” Tom said as if that explained everything. “Has she mentioned Britney yet?” “Yeah. I hope she realizes it’s not going to happen.” “Don’t you mind
Alex was exhausted. Her feet ached. She just wanted to scream and kick off the shoes. She blamed the four-inch high heels or stilettos or whatever they were called for this because she was unaccustomed to them. Sneakers and slippers were her best friends. When she had no one to talk to during their long dinner party, she dreamt of her thick, fluffy Sylvester the Cat slippers. She dreamt of how warm and cozy and soft they’d be on her feet. Her eyes were also irritated because of the dry weather. It was worse when she wore her contacts. She wanted to take them out and put in some eye drops to relieve the irritation. At least for the past two hours she found the conversation with Tom McCartney immensely stimulating. They talked about politics, which she knew nothing about. She, however, managed to tell him a little bit about John Key, the prime minister of New Zealand. She also felt quite good when she happened to mention Obama and how smart he was. Tom had a pleasant personality, like