Detained

Back at work, Alan tried to keep expressions of surprise and admiration out of his face when she told him about scheduling the interview with Will, and Darcy realised he’d been utterly convinced she’d fail. Her first night back in the anchor chair it felt good to know she hadn’t conformed to expectations.

In Pudong she’d told Will she wanted to be the best at what she did and she did this well, and would learn to do it better. Her interview with him would win her time to do that, time to complete the adjustment from print to television journalism. She’d be the woman he loved. Meanwhile he’d asked for time, to finish what he’d come to Tara for.

When she came off air, Alan was complimentary. She looked well, rested, and he’d liked the way she’d tackled the interview with the head of a charity accused of embezzlement. If he kept up the good vibes she might get a swelled head. On her way out to her car she ran into Nadia.

“Hello, golden girl.”

“Not so much golden, I’d say plated. The shine will wear off the minute I stuff up.”

“Not while you’ve got Will Parker in your sights.”

In her sights, on her mind, under her skin. He was every love struck cliché there was, except shouted to the moon about. He was her very best secret, and he was going to call tonight. She wanted to be home, and out of her work uniform in time. She fossicked in her bag for her car keys.

“I got a new suit in for you today. Un-frigging-believably-beautiful. Why didn’t you say you knew someone at Armani?”

Darcy shook her head. “I don’t,” but then it hit her. She pressed the unlock button.

Nadia looked puzzled, called after her. “But you know who sent it, right? It’s exactly your size.”

She got in the car, called out the open door, “Night, Nadia.” She wasn’t sure what was going to be more exciting, dressing in the suit Will sent her to interview him in, or having him strip it off her.

47. Power

“Be not ashamed of mistakes and thus make them crimes.” — Confucius

It was good to be back in the city, any city. It was good to have Bo behind the wheel, even if only for a little while. Will sat in the back of the hired car and checked his notes spread out on the seat. He’d see Darcy in thirty minutes. He could scarcely believe how excited he felt about that. Ten days of regular phone sex convinced him being apart was going to be sheer torture, but the meeting up again—exquisite. He had to count on his luck that he’d avoid more torture, and he knew it was a gamble. Maybe his biggest. Maybe his last for a while.

He hit redial and finally connected with Ted. After he explained the reason for the call, he waited for a reaction that would make things more or less easy to get through.

There was a long pause and some colourful swearing then Ted said, “It’s a hell of a thing, Will, but you do what you have to do, son. I’ll stand by you as long as I can, as long as I can keep the shareholders off my back. A hell of a thing.”

When he disconnected, Bo was pulling into the Channel Five driveway. The guy on the gate was waving them through. Bo parked and they both got out.

“You’re sure, Boss?” Bo wasn’t happy. On his face was every doubt about this being a smart thing.

He clapped Bo on the shoulder. “I’m sure. It’s time. I’ll see you back in Shanghai, okay?” He got a woebegone look that was Bo’s best available version of an okay, pulled his briefcase from the back seat, checked his pocket, and walked into the studio reception.

He gave his name to the receptionist, but barely made eye contact with her. He was riveted by the poster-sized portrait of Darcy on the wall behind her. It was one of those artfully posed candid shots where the subject was supposedly unaware someone with a camera was two foot in front of them. She was smiling and her eyes were explosively big in her gorgeous face. She looked like she could walk off the wall and into his arms.

“Like what you see, Mr Parker?”

That was almost her phone sex voice, all breathy and low pitched. It sent a ripple of anticipation up his spine. “Very much, Ms Campbell. I see you’re a big star here.” Now he looked at the Barbie clone receptionist. “You know, when I first met Ms Campbell I knew she’d have her own show one day.”

Receptionist Barbie beamed a smile at him, and Darcy made a snorting sound, about as ladylike as a pig in mud. She pointed to another picture, a meathead in a suit with a microphone, standing on a football field. The caption said Todd Dubsomething or other. “He’s the big star.” Then she gestured for him to follow her. “If you’d come this way, Mr Parker. We’re almost ready for you.”

“God I hope so,” he said, using his most suggestive phone sex voice.

She walked in front of him, and he got his chance to stare at her in the suit he’d had Pete send from Shanghai. He’d been worried it might remind her of Quingpu, but the night it arrived he’d had more fun on a satellite phone than a man with as many injuries he’d had deserved.

“Do I get some time alone with you?”

She spun to face him, walking backwards in incredibly sexy heels which did something to the way she balanced and the shape of her body that made him forget the question.

“Alone, with about a dozen people watching,” she said.

He took a couple of bigger steps and caught up with her. He wanted to touch her, but they were obviously in a public area of the building, and they’d decided to play out the misunderstanding line Darcy had spun about their private relationship, so touching her was risky.