Joss Wood - Her Boss by Day...

‘I’m sorry, but I needed Luke to help me to help you.’

Amy looked into her wine glass. ‘I know … it’s okay. It was all a long time ago. How is Luke?’

There was an odd tremor in her voice which Willa instantly picked up. Amy and Luke had always had some sort of love-hate, weird reaction to each other that Willa could never quite put her finger on.

‘He’s fine … still single, still driven. He’s working on a massive hotel development in Singapore—the biggest of his career.’

Amy eventually raised her eyes to meet Willa’s. ‘Are you still in contact with the others from the resort? Brodie, Chantal, Scott?’

Willa shrugged. ‘Loosely, via social media and the very occasional e-mail. Chantal is still dancing, Scott is one of the city’s most brilliant young architects, and Brodie is the heart and soul of a company that runs luxury yacht tours down the Gold Coast. I haven’t seen them or socialised with them…. nothing has been the same since the week you and Brodie left.’

Happy to be off the subject of her dysfunctional marriage, Willa cast her mind back to that summer they’d spent in the Whitsundays, when a group of strangers had arrived at the very fancy Weeping Reef resort, ready and rocking to start a holiday season of working all day and having fun all night.

It still amazed her that the five of them—six if she included Luke—had clicked so well. They were such a mixed bag of personalities.

They’d laughed and loved and drunk and partied, and then laughed and loved and partied some more. They’d been really good at it, and the first two months of their summer holiday had flown past. Then their idyll had been shattered when two dreadful incidents had dumped a bucket of angst and recrimination and guilt over their magical interlude and ripped their clique apart.

And set Willa on a path that she now deeply regretted.

‘To go back a whole bunch of steps—we were talking about you and Wayne and what caused the split,’ Amy said, pulling her back to their conversation. She refilled their glasses and lifted an eyebrow.

‘Oh … that.’

‘Yes, that.’

How strange it was that after so long she and Amy could just fall into conversation as if it was yesterday … how strange and how right.

In the natural order of things they shouldn’t have been friends … Amy was bright and flirty and outgoing, and Willa was quiet and naïve and a lot less boisterous than her friend. She couldn’t just spill all the beans about her less than happy marriage—not even with Amy, so successful, confident, sophisticated. With Amy those qualities went deeper than her looks and clothes right into her psyche. Unlike Willa, whose confidence and sophistication was just a fabric layer deep.

‘I wanted to be something other than his pretty arm decoration. He didn’t see why being that wasn’t enough for me.’

‘It got ugly. I called him a balding, ageing git and he called me a shallow bimbo. The words “separation” and “divorce” emerged and we were both very happy with the idea.’

Amy closed her eyes in sympathy. ‘Sorry, Wills.’

Willa shrugged. ‘Eight months ago he booted me out of our apartment and into a waterfront mansion in Vaucluse—’

Amy whistled at the mention of the very upmarket Sydney suburb. ‘Why didn’t he move into the waterfront property?’

Willa smiled. ‘He hates water and open spaces. Anyway, he moved Young and Dumb into the apartment the afternoon I moved out. Now the divorce just needs its court date and I’ll be free!’

‘What are you going to do then?’

Willa shrugged. ‘Still working that out … I have a degree, but no experience, and—worse—no contacts. Money is not a problem, but time is. I battle to fill my day, and rattling around on my own in that mausoleum doesn’t help.’

She glanced at the Rolex on her wrist, a twenty-first birthday present from Wayne. It was boring enough living her life, she didn’t need to dissect it as well, so she attempted to change the subject.

‘We’ve been in here for about twenty minutes. Do you think my date from hell has got the hint?’

‘I told Guido to tell him that you weren’t interested.’

Amy shrugged at Willa’s quick, questioning look.

‘Hey, you wanted to make his brain explode. I thought I’d save you a prison sentence.’

‘True,’ Willa admitted as she stood up. ‘Okay, well … it was great seeing you but I suppose I should get home.’

‘To do more rattling?’ Amy shook her head. ‘Oh, hell, no. If I ever saw someone in need of a party it’s you. I’ve just signed a huge PR deal—’

‘You’re in PR? You’re far too self-effacing, modest and shy for PR, Ames,’ Willa said, her voice deceptively gentle.

Amy just laughed, and instantly catapulted Willa back the best part of a decade. It was a killer laugh—dirty as mud.

‘There’s that sarcastic mouth I used to love. Anyway, I’ve just signed a huge deal to launch a new franchise of sports shops selling clothes and equipment—my client is also setting up some hardcore men-only gyms—and a couple of my workmates and I are going out to celebrate. We’re taking my new client clubbing. And you are going to join us!’

‘Uh, I don’t think so …’

‘I do! My client’s name is Rob, he’s gorgeous and gruff—but not my type, unfortunately.’ Amy led her out of the pretty function room and back towards the main dining area. ‘He might be yours.’

Willa scoffed. ‘If he’s like any of the men I’ve recently come into contact with he’ll need a hug … around the neck … with a rope.’

‘Am really loving this whole bloodthirsty serial killer vibe you’ve got going.’ Amy shot her a grin. ‘I sense sexual frustration.’

Willa grinned at her. ‘I sense that I am going to kick you soon.’

Amy tucked her arm into Willa’s as they walked towards the exit. ‘Oh, yeah … the girls are back in town. And it seems like I am going to have to teach you how to party … to cut loose.’

‘Again.’

Rob Hanson looked at the sharply dressed partygoers dutifully lining up outside Fox, waiting in anxious anticipation to get into the popular club, and shook his head. Pulling on a pair of Levi’s and a button-down white shirt with its sleeves rolled up was about as dressed up as he got … besides, it wasn’t what you looked like that got you into a club—unless you were female and had a great cleavage, blonde hair down to your waist and legs up to your neck—it was attitude …

And he had lots of it.

Rob caught the eye of a bouncer, jerked his head and received a quick nod to go in, bypassing the queue. He slipped a bill into the guy’s hand in a slick movement as the rope was lifted and cursed when his mobile vibrated in his pocket. Stepping back from the door, he shoved his finger in his ear and answered the call.

‘Rob, it’s Gail.’

‘Hey, Snail.’ At twenty-two, his sister was ten years younger than him and the best thing in his life. ‘What’s up?’

‘Not much—just checking in,’ Gail replied. ‘Whatcha doing?’

‘About to go into a club.’

‘Have you met anyone yet?’ Gail demanded.

‘I haven’t even been here two days!’ he protested.

‘My man-about-town bachelor brother is slacking,’ Gail teased and he rolled his eyes.

‘I won’t have the time in Sydney and I don’t have the inclination,’ Rob retorted.

Gail’s laugh tickled his ear. ‘Did the screaming match with Saskia put you off? Judging by the way she flounced out of here, she obviously didn’t take it well when you told her that she’d hit her expiry date?’

‘Jeez, Gail! Her expiry date ?’

‘I call it like I see it. You never go over the three-month-fling mark and she was due.’