Authors: Victoria Sinclair
‘How did it go, Mark?’ she asked, watching Nicholas drive away.
‘Very well, actually. Of course, we didn’t get the tender, as I’d expected, but my application had impressed him enough that he wanted to find out more about our company. In fact, he’s interested in investing in one of our new design projects.’ Overington Industries was still a small firm. Mark designed steel products, which included small sheds, on up to larger factory buildings, and the rest of the team worked on their construction. However, with an engineering degree, Mark was more than capable of expanding into other areas, and spent his spare time coming up with new ideas.
‘That’s great, Mark,’ Emily said, sincerely glad for him. He’d worked very hard over the years to bring Overington Industries to where it was today, and with Nicholas Cavanaugh, she was sure he could make it even more of a success.
‘By the way, Nicholas wants us to get together for a business related dinner sometime next week. I think you should come along, not as my secretary, but simply to get a feel for what business dinners of this sort entail.’
‘I guess that would be a good idea,’ she agreed reluctantly. Mark raised an eyebrow at her.
‘I expected you to show more interest,’ he reprimanded her. ‘After all, you want to go into business for yourself one of these days, and business dinners are a part of that.’
‘That’s not what I’m worried about, Mark. It’s Nicholas Cavanaugh himself.’ Mark looked surprised.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve met him before,’ she confessed. ‘And we didn’t…ah…get on particularly well.’
‘Now, that’s not the Emily I know! I’ve never heard you say a bad word about anyone before. Where did you meet him? And, more to the point, why didn’t you tell me about it?’
‘I only discovered who he was when he entered your office! He lectures in business economics at the university. I’m not sure why. I wouldn’t think he needs the money.’
‘Ahh. I see. He mentioned doing some teaching. But that doesn’t explain your antagonism towards him.’ No. It didn’t. But she wasn’t sure how she could explain that to Mark.
‘I’ll do my best to get along with him,’ she promised. And she would, too. Not that it would do much good. ‘When will this dinner be?’
‘Tuesday evening next week.’
‘No problem.’
‘Wonderful. I’ll book a table for seven o’clock at
Luigi’s
.’
‘Sounds great, Mark,’ she replied, thinking the exact opposite.
‘Wonderful. I’ve got a couple of letters for you to type up before the end of the day, then you’re free to go.’
That evening, Emily sat down to relax with a book she’d been meaning to read for ages, but hadn’t yet had the time for.
She was deeply into the novel when the phone’s insistent ringing disturbed her peace, and she reluctantly stood to answer it. However she was more than happy to hear her best friend’s voice on the other end.
As Sonya had just returned from a three month trip to Germany with her husband and young son, Emily hadn’t caught up with her for ages, and hearing her friend’s voice made her realise how much she’d missed Sonya’s company.
They arranged to meet for a picnic at the lake the next day, and when she hung up the receiver, Emily was buoyed with a new-found energy. Thinking about the day ahead took her mind off Nicholas, and for that she was truly grateful.
Saturday morning was a beautiful early autumn day. The weather was fine, not too hot, with just the slightest of breezes. The sunlight gleamed off the water of Lake Wendouree, and Emily smiled in pleasure as she walked past the botanical gardens towards the playground and barbecue area where she was meeting Sonya. Emily felt almost nostalgic watching children play in the playground, as she remembered the days, not really so long ago, when she’d brought Veronica and Steven here regularly.
Sonya and her little boy, Paul, were already there when Emily arrived. ‘Sonya!’ she called, waving in her friend’s direction. Sonya was seated on a picnic blanket, while Paul happily toddled around the vicinity, not far from Sonya’s sharp eyes.
‘Emily!’ her friend exclaimed in equal pleasure. ‘It’s good to see you. Come here Paul and say hello to Aunty Emily!’ Emily smiled at the small boy, who completely ignored his mother as he ran around in circles, involved in some childish little game.
‘How are you and Andrew faring after the trip?’ Sonya and her husband Andrew had attended high school with Emily, and had been a couple as long as Emily could remember.
‘We’re well. Tired from the journey, of course.’
They reminisced awhile and discussed Sonya’s holiday, before Sonya brought up the question Emily had been dreading.
‘So, how’s the love life?’ A mental picture of Nicholas immediately sprung into her mind and she had to fight to banish it. Fortunately, she was saved from having to answer when little Paul, just fifteen months old, ran over to Emily and giggled, as she ‘peek-a-booed’ him.
‘He’s just gorgeous!’ she gushed over the small boy, who looked at her and gave her a big smile, as if he knew exactly what she was saying about him.
‘Here, give him a cuddle.’ Sonya picked Paul up and handed him to Emily. Emily smiled fondly and Paul wrapped his chubby little arms around her, much to her gratification.
‘How’s the beautiful little man then?’ she asked, chucking him under the chin. The toddler giggled and Emily laughed. ‘I can see why your mummy loves you so very, very much, yes I can!’ she cooed.
‘Oh, you’re pathetic, Emily! You should have one of your own.’
‘Let’s not get into that again,’ she said lightly. Sonya seemed obsessed with Emily’s love life and future family plans, and while she understood that her best friend merely wanted the best for her, it could get a little tiresome.
But nevertheless, her thoughts turned to the future as she saw herself as a mum, with a little boy or girl of her own. She’d raised her brother and sister for the last six years, but it wasn’t the same. Again, the devastating image of Nicholas Cavanaugh reinserted itself in her mind, and in that mental image, he was playing with the small child who called Emily ‘Mummy’.
‘Hello! Earth calling Emily Peterson!’ Sonya’s voice barely penetrated her consciousness.
‘Oh, sorry Sonya,’ she said guiltily, feeling her face flush. Had she gone completely insane? Her mind was betraying her in a most unusual, and annoying, fashion. She took a deep breath, attempting futilely to quiet her unnaturally surging hormones.
‘All right, out with it. You’ve evaded me at every turn. You have found someone, haven’t you?’
‘Oh, no. Definitely not that!’ she exclaimed. ‘When would I have had the time? And I certainly don’t have the inclination to indulge in any romantic affairs at the moment,’ she stated primly. Sonya laughed heartily.
‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much! Come on Emily, what gives?’ Was she really that transparent? Emily opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. There was really nothing she could say.
‘There’s no one, Sonya,’ she insisted half-heartedly, knowing her friend would get it out of her before too long.
‘Oh, come on! Is he cute?’ Emily laughed softly.
‘No, he’s not cute!’ Cute was the last word she would use to describe him! Tall, dashing, handsome, devastating, heart wrenching…maybe, but cute? No way… Sonya looked at her with eyebrows raised in scepticism.
‘You are absolutely incorrigible. OK, I’ll tell you the whole sordid tale. Not,’ she added, ‘that there’s really very much to tell.’ And out came all the thoughts and feelings that Emily had been trying so desperately to suppress from the instant she’d met Nicholas Cavanaugh.
‘Wow. A lecturer?’ Her friend looked concerned.
‘Sonya, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m attracted to him. He’s not the slightest bit interested in me. And besides, he’s the last man I’d ever think of dating. He’s rude, overbearing, arrogant…I could go on but it would take too long. Not to mention the fact that he’s out to get me, as I clearly explained to you before.’
‘I don’t know, Emily. Maybe you’re reading too much into his motives. It’s possible he’s not really singling you out. You probably just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and next week it will be someone else. And, have you ever thought that maybe it’s because he likes you?’
‘Doubtful. Besides, he’s a professional. He’d no more go out with a student than I’d…’ She’d been about to say ‘go out with a lecturer’, but realised what a lie it would have been.
They chatted for awhile longer, until little Paul started getting grizzly and Sonya announced that it was time for his nap. ‘We’ll catch up again soon,’ promised Emily, as Sonya strapped Paul in his car seat.
Emily considered heading home to catch up on some much neglected chores, but decided instead to take advantage of the weather and walk around the lake, letting the exercise refresh her senses. The gentle breeze and pleasant warmth from the sun relaxed her and she felt calm for the first time since she’d met Nicholas Cavanaugh.
Nicholas’s head spun with images of Emily Peterson. His heart had almost stopped when he’d seen her, and he couldn’t remember the last woman who’d done that to him. He’d done everything he could to put her out of his mind, but no matter what he tried, she stubbornly remained there in the corner, poking her head out now and again to distract him.
And why, for God’s sake, did she seem to turn up everywhere he looked these days? Since their first meeting in class a mere week ago, he’d seen her at the mechanic’s, at her work, and now picnicking by the lake. Was it all mere coincidence, or synchronicity? When he thought about it logically, perhaps it was neither.
He frowned to himself. The mechanic could be explained easily, he told himself. Rick Jeffries specialised in servicing European cars. As he drove a BMW and Emily a Volvo, it seemed logical they’d choose the same mechanic. And as for seeing her at the lake, it was one of the city’s most popular picnic spots. Not far from the centre of town, it was a pleasant, relaxing place, and as a university student he’d jogged around the lake every morning.
He shook his head, remembering his near encounter with her earlier that day. He’d been driving around the lake, wondering whether he should get out of the car and go for a walk, or head to the small office he’d rented in town to get some serious work done. Then he’d seen Emily, and his mind had been made up. He’d stopped the car a hundred metres or so from where she sat with her friend, and he’d walked along the path that circled the lake.
He’d been like a foolish teenage boy, planning what he’d say to the girl of his dreams when he approached her. He’d wanted to appear casual, as if he’d been passing and had happened upon her by accident. He didn’t want to appear eager to see her, or even particularly happy that he’d done so. But when just metres away from where Emily and her friend had been sitting, he’d seen the small boy, only a year or so old, jump on her lap and throw his arms around her, and he’d paused. Surely the child couldn’t be hers? he’d thought. After all, she hadn’t been alone. But then he’d distinctly heard her say something along the lines of, ‘Mummy loves you very, very much’, and for the second time his heart had almost ceased beating. It explained a number of things about her, anyway. When he’d first seen her in class, she hadn’t appeared any older than the other eighteen year old students he taught, but something in the way she spoke, some inner maturity, had given him the idea that she was several years older. Then, finding her working for Mark Overington, and now discovering that she had a young child, he put everything together.
At that moment, he’d backed away. Initially, it had saddened him to think of Emily as a single mother, and as he watched her, from a discrete distance, he found himself admiring her for the way she was working so hard to provide for herself and her son. How a man could leave a beautiful woman like Emily to fend for herself and a child, he would never know or understand. Such men disgusted him.
But then the even more disturbing thought that she wasn’t a single mother, and that there was another man in the picture, struck him, and he’d turned around and walked away. It was a possibility which until now hadn’t occurred to him. He shook his head in anger at himself. Who was he to assume that a desirable, intelligent woman like Emily Peterson would be without male companionship? It had all been wishful thinking on his part. At least the thought of her with another man stopped the ridiculous idea he’d formed about getting to know her better. He had to remember his place as a professional, and the ethics involved in student/lecturer relationships.
However, as he drove to work, all thoughts of a relaxing walk banished from his mind, he realised that, somehow, Emily now appealed to him more than ever. He ground his teeth together in agitation. Perhaps it was the long suppressed caveman instinct in him – the desire to fight any man who possessed the woman he wanted.
Emily sighed as she sat down at her desk first thing Monday morning. She dreaded the afternoon’s lecture. She knew Nicholas would not pick on her again – he simply wouldn’t dare – but every time she saw him her body responded in ways she hadn’t known were possible only a week before. The thought of the dinner she’d have to endure on Tuesday night weighed like a pit in the bottom of her stomach. How could she sit there and eat like a business professional, with all those completely, utterly unprofessional thoughts about Nicholas Cavanaugh swarming through her head?