She walks inside and a moment later, carrying a larger handbag, she’s back, her eyes meeting mine. She doesn’t smile. There’s a look of determination on her face and I wonder if she has the same ambition I do—to have sex until we can begin to forget this, each other.
It’s then that I realise my method of forgetting has bred within me a new addiction. A new need, a new dependence.
But I don’t need to worry about that. In a week I’ll go back to America, back to the way I was before Cora, and that will be the end of this.
* * *
With Holden at my side there’s no need to go through the same security protocols. We take a different elevator, this time straight to his penthouse. Neither of us speaks as it lifts us into the heavens, and that’s a problem because it gives me ample time to think. To wonder what I’m doing.
And the thing is, I don’t know but I can say with absolute certainty that being here is one hundred per cent where I want to be right now. Being with him is what I need.
‘Have you eaten?’ His question seems louder than it is by virtue of the fact neither of us has made a sound since getting to the casino.
‘I had a burger a little while ago.’
‘Good.’
Our eyes hold for a second and then he gestures inwards.
‘After you.’
I step into his penthouse, seeing it with different eyes now, eyes that are less wowed by the grandeur because they’ve seen it already and therefore more able to take in details. Two of the pictures I recognise. One is a Van Gogh, the other a Seurat. Originals? Undoubtedly.
‘This place is amazing.’
He shuts the door behind himself and strides across the living space towards a kitchen I barely clocked last time. It’s large with shining white pantries, a marble bench top and windows at the back of it that frame another picture-perfect view of the city.
‘Do you spend much time here?’
My fingers itch to lift my camera from the bag and snap a photograph of that view. Night lighting is hard to do justice to; I need practice.
He opens the fridge door and pulls out a couple of beers but, before he can crack the top off mine, I shake my head. ‘I’ll just have water, thanks.’
He pushes the beer back into the fridge and grabs a glass for me, filling it with filtered water from the fridge. I notice he still cracks the beer and memories sear me out of nowhere. My dad, the smell of beer, the ever-present bottle. I push those thoughts aside.
I’ve mentally dealt with Dad’s alcoholism, and the waste his life became. I don’t need to think about it now. Besides, I don’t know Holden well enough to know how much he drinks, nor how often.
‘I’m in Australia several times a year. This is where I stay.’
There’s nothing to say in response to that. I presume he travels a heck of a lot, given he has a private jet. It makes sense he’d stay in his own casino. These are conclusions I could have reached for myself.
‘I’m glad you came with me tonight.’ His voice is serious, and I wonder if he truly doubted that I would. Did he actually think I might say no?
Something heavy shifts in the air around us.
I nod, try to smile, but it doesn’t quite work.
‘I should apologise, for last time.’
Surprise makes my heartb
eat quicken. ‘Oh?’
‘I was more abrupt than I intended.’ His words are a growl.
I shake my head a little. ‘No, you were fine.’
‘I didn’t want you to stay.’ The words are like little arrows, darting into my body and zipping through my blood. ‘In fact, I wanted you to go after we had sex because that’s what I do.’