Exotic Nights
‘Come on, let’s go look at it now.’ He took her arm, half dragging her down the stairs. The space was huge.
‘We could partition it off.’ He stood, arms stretched out marking imaginary walls.
‘I’d have to get consents.’ Her trailing footsteps echoed. ‘There’d be building work to be done. I’d have to buy so much stuff.’
‘Yeah, but wouldn’t it be great?’ His eyes were shining so damn attractively. No wonder he was successful—he could make anyone believe in anything. Passionate, enthusiastic, energetic.
‘Look—’ he dragged her over to one corner ‘—you could have a little shop next door here selling things—like the fairy dresses and the tattoos and glittery stuff. And you could paint a mural—throw in a few tigers.’
She was amazed. ‘You’ve really thought about this.’
‘Sure.’
She could have different themed parties—art, beading, pirates, jungles, teddy bears’ picnics—the list was endless. His enthusiasm infected her—bubbling through her veins.
‘Owen.’ She was shaking her head, but she couldn’t stop the smile.
He smiled back at her. And then he stepped closer, his hands on her arms. She only needed to take a step forward to touch him—and she wanted to touch him so much.
‘Think about it,’ he said softly.
She was. She read the offer deep within him. On a plate he was handing her everything she could ever want—anything material. But what she really wanted wasn’t a tangible thing. And he didn’t think he had it to give. But he did—and so badly she wanted him to give it to her. She was a fool, such a fool, but his blue eyes shone even more brilliantly and she couldn’t ever say no—not when he looked at her like that.
He whispered again. ‘I’m going to kiss you, Bella. So if you don’t want me to, you better speak up now.’
Pure, deep, hopeless longing overcame her, rendering her silent, waiting and so willing for whatever he wanted.
But it wasn’t the fiercely passionate kiss she expected. It was soft and sweet and so gentle. He stepped closer, his hands lifting to frame her face—so tender. She felt her eyes prickle. She closed them quickly and the bliss simply increased. It rushed from both her toes and the tip of her head—meeting in the middle of her, expanding, taking over the beating of her heart.
Suddenly, somehow, they were on the floor and he’d rolled, pulling her on top, protecting her from the cold, dusty concrete.
‘This is bad,’ she breathed. ‘This is where the kids will be playing.’
‘No kids here now. Only a couple of adults. Consenting.’
‘Oh, yes.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
BELLA was dusting the shelves at the café the next morning, mentally choosing paint colours, when she heard the beep of her mobile. She pulled it from her pocket. Didn’t recognise the number. She didn’t recognise the voice either—fortunately the woman said she was calling from Take One Agency… .
Oh, God. The audition. Just over a week ago and frankly she’d forgotten it. It had been the day she’d had that massive argument with Owen.
‘I’m pleased to be able to offer you the part of …’
Bella tuned out—entering shock. She was being offered a part on a national touring show.
‘Rehearsals start in Christchurch next week …’
She’d be paid. A full-time job as an actress—in a musical theatre production. Excitement flooded through her. She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t wait to get home and tell Owen.
Owen.
She pulled up short. Owen—who was probably designing her a pirate ship this very minute. Owen—who was probably the reason why she’d got the job in the first place. Owen—who had made her so mad she’d gone into that audition all guns blazing and uncaring of the consequences. Owen—who had never made fun of her parties, but who made everything matter.
She had to leave him. Leave the business—while it was still a seed, just a fragment of a dream. For one wild moment she wanted to turn down the part. Pretend it hadn’t happened. But as she listened to the woman warble on about the details she knew she couldn’t. This was it, her shot at the big time. Do well in this and she could springboard to other, bigger, better shows.
Sydney, London, New York … Her imagination ballooned.