Chapter 17
This might not have been Eric’s best idea.
Bondi Beach certainly had its fans the world over, but right now EJ wasn’t feeling the vibe.
Call it a legacy of having a winter birthday, but she wasn’t loving a picnic under a white tent by the sand when the sand kept lifting up in mini tornado-like whirls and adding extra sand to her sandwiches.
She coughed as a bit of grit caught in her throat.
“So, are you having fun?” Gwen asked.
“So much fun.” She barely restrained an eye roll.
Gwen laughed. “I don’t think Eric’s party planners accounted for the windy weather.”
“You think?” She burrowed into the folds of her new Italian leather jacket. A gift from Eric that he’d given her on Monday when he’d taken her to Bennelong for dinner before taking her to Swan Lake right next door in the Opera House.
She’d felt like a movie star. All she’d needed was the red carpet, as she had the photographers already.
And when Eric had said that if she couldn’t go to Italy, then he’d bring Italy to her, well, she hadn’t imagined it would be quite like this.
He’d picked her up in a Ferrari convertible—a Roma Spider, he called it—before going on about its V8 twin-turbo properties and ability to travel at 320 kilometres an hour.
“Seems a shame you’ll never get to go that fast in Sydney,” she’d teased.
“Is that a challenge?”
“No!”
He’d laughed, then assured her she was safe with him, before giving her another glimpse into this world of glamour, when he pulled up outside Bennelong and had someone come to take the car while he escorted her inside.
People looked at him, people looked at them.
And she’d been immeasurably glad she’d bought a new dress and shoes from David Jones’ seventh floor.
She might’ve spent close to a grand, but she looked like a million bucks.
And then he’d given her this kitten-soft black jacket that made her feel like a princess.
Who needed a Queen’s Birthday bonfire when she could be wined and dined and look like this?
Except, the picnic he’d arranged—“for a few of your friends”—felt like a step too far.
One didn’t really need a ride in a seaplane to show off the beach where the picnic was being held. Nor did one need to make an ostentatious splash with vats of oysters and prawns. She might’ve mentioned she liked seafood, but seeing this much food she’d known wouldn’t get eaten felt like a waste.
And because she felt a little uncomfortable with all the attention, she was trying really hard not to show how she felt. Which was why, whenever Eric asked how she was doing, she responded with a big smile and “This is amazing, thank you.”
Part of her wondered how long it would be until Jordan came.
He’d said he would come. And she really wanted him to.
It felt strange having all these significant moments without him.
Not that she’d wanted him there for her first kiss.
Something she was still waiting for, because it seemed after the near miss on the yacht, Eric had decided to be a gentleman after all and hadn’t kissed her.
Not properly, anyway. A few lingering hugs and pressed lips to her cheek, but nothing on her lips.
Almost like he sensed she wasn’t quite ready for it yet.
There had been times when she’d almost agreed, but something held her back.
Even on her birthday, as wonderful as it was, she had felt this tiniest snag inside, like something was saying not to do it.
Anyway, she figured it was good for Eric not to always get his own way.
She kept a little bit aloof, which seemed to have increased his interest, as his looks grew hungrier each day, so she was glad not to have given in.
A figure appeared on the beach, and her heart eased. At last! “Excuse me,” she muttered, then hurried to meet Jordan.
“You came!” she called.
“You asked, so here I am.”
Oh, thank goodness. She hugged him, and he drew her in. She closed her eyes, feeling that same assurance of safety. But also something else. Had it just been the effect of time, or had he gotten a little more buff in the past three weeks?
She pulled away. “Have you been working out?”
His lips tweaked. “I’ve only been down at the farm.”
The farm. Where they’d had the bonfire last weekend. The bonfire she’d always attended but had skipped this year. Awkward. “Um, how was that?”
“Good. You were missed.”
She nodded, but trying to explain to him about her magical fairy-tale dinner at Bennelong and seeing the ballet didn’t seem fair. Not when Jordan could never afford the extravagant meal that Eric had paid for.
She couldn’t ask anything more, because it would make her feel like she’d betrayed her family.
And today was supposed to be about having fun, about celebrating.
Not being made to feel guilty for wanting to have some fun and not do the same as she had every other year.
When Gwen had invited her to Saturday night drinks with the girls on a harbour cruise, how could she say no?
Jordan’s attention veered behind her, then an arm snaked across her shoulders. “Jordan. Glad you could come.”
Jordan nodded. “Eric.”
Neither man said anything more, just stared at each other like a matador might stare down a bull. But which one carried the red flag and who would end up waving the white remained to be seen.
Finally, Eric turned to her. “Hey, babe, you ready to try caviar?”
Babe, Jordan mouthed at her, eyebrows raised. Okay, so she’d always poked fun at those who said that.
“She doesn’t like caviar,” Jordan said.
“That’s probably because she’s never had the proper kind before.” Eric subtly led her back to the crowd. “We’ve got the real deal, straight from the Caspian Sea. I swear, you’ve never tasted anything like that before.”
She sure hoped so. She found a smile. “Sounds great.”
She caught the way Jordan sagged a little, like her words had deflated him. She felt bad for him but shook it off. He wasn’t supposed to talk for her. He knew her well enough that he should know she could speak up for herself. But still, she wished she could assure him that everything was okay.
As soon as they arrived back at the picnic area, Gwen swooped Jordan to one side, forcing EJ to talk to the others, most of whom she didn’t really know.
This wasn’t like one of her other birthday parties, but they had tried to make it nice for her, so she was going to make the effort to enjoy herself.
So she smiled and laughed and ate and drank and showed how she fit in with this crowd.
All the while itching for the chance to finally talk with Jordan, the one person here she could be real with.
Who she could snark with. Swap sarcastic asides about how the feathers in Neil’s girlfriend’s dress made her look exactly like a penguin.
Or complain about the waste of food the caterers had provided that was sure to spoil and be thrown out.
She might like this world, want to be part of this world, but it didn’t mean she was blind.
It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. But then, neither was she.
Her attention stole from Lucinda, someone who was boring her silly, and she noticed Jordan was finally free. “Excuse me.”
She hurried to his side, just as a waiter paused and offered them a tray of yet more caviar-crusted items. She noticed Eric watching her, so she took one, ate it, and did her best not to wrinkle her nose.
“So, you like that?” Jordan asked.
She angled away from where Eric continued to watch her. “I still don’t.” She plucked a glass of something—she didn’t know what—from a passing waiter’s plate and downed it. Ugh. That didn’t help chase away the bad taste either. Only added to it. “Yuck.”
“Come on. You’ve gotta like it. It’s come all the way from the Caspian Sea.
” Jordan’s words might hold tease, but his tone held something else.
Something a little more bitey. And while it was one thing for her to get a little snarky about things, it was another for him to do so.
Her heart felt fragile enough that she didn’t need Jordan throwing stones.
“Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I don’t exactly know why I am here, not when I’ve barely had a chance to talk to you.”
“Well, here I am. Talk to me.” She could slap herself. She didn’t mean to sound snippy. It was just there was so much tension around the place, it was starting to eat into her head, causing a headache.
He huffed out a breath. “You’re not making it very easy.”
“Are you for real?”
His lips pressed together. “It’s like you don’t care about your old friends anymore and only want these new ones.”
“I still want my old friends.”
“Really? It didn’t feel like that last weekend.”
He was still going on about that? Regrets wrestled with self-righteousness. “I can’t be everywhere.”
“I get it. You’re a popular lady.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “But I gotta admit, lately it’s kind of felt like you’ve tried to ghost me.”
“What do you mean? I invited you here today, didn’t I?”
“And barely talked to me,” he grumbled.
“That’s because you sound offended about everything that’s going on.”
“I’m not offended,” he retorted.
“Really? You could’ve fooled me. What’s your problem?”
“Hey, kids.” Gwen swooped in again. “Everything okay here?”
“It’d be better if I could get the chance to talk to EJ for a minute without someone interrupting,” Jordan snapped.
“Whoa! Okay, I can see I’m not wanted here.”
“Good,” Jordan muttered as she walked away.
EJ, seeing Gwen’s head swivel, hissed, “She heard that!”
“Then maybe she’ll get the message.”
“Jordan, what is wrong with you? You’re acting all huffy and weird.”
“I’m not the one acting weird. You’re the one pretending to like things like caviar, when we both know you hate the stuff. Why do you keep pretending? Why can’t you be real?”
Heat flared in her chest. “You want to talk about real? Why don’t you admit why you’re acting like this?”