reasoning, believed in his promise, and here he was with another woman, enjoying her company, having sex with her.
Two-faced…
Of course he had to be good at that—brilliant—to fool her father.
Fooling her, too, had probably been a fun exercise in comparison.
A dark, dangerous man… She should have trusted that instinct, should have said no to him, should never have allowed him to play his game with her because it had been his game all along, his arrangements, his rules. She had read into them what she wanted to believe and he had let her with his rotten promise.
Tears welled up and blurred her vision. She shut her eyes, didn’t see her mother move to wrap her in a comforting hug, only felt the arms turning her around, a hand curling around her head and pressing it onto a shoulder. She wasn’t strong in that moment, couldn’t find any strength at all. She gave in to a storm of weeping until it was spent, then weakly stayed in her mother’s embrace, soaking up the real love coming to her from the rubbing of her back and the stroking of her hair.
‘I’m sorry you’ve been so hurt by this,’ her mother murmured. ‘Sorry you were caught up in your father’s business, in past deeds you had nothing to do with. So wrong…’
‘I loved him, Mum. I thought he loved me. He promised me we’d meet again when this was all over,’ she spilled out, needing to unburden the pain of the soul-sickening deception.
‘Perhaps that was a kinder way of letting you down than telling you the truth. You’re a wonderful person, Laura. Even he had to see that, care for you a little.’
‘Oh, Mum! It’s such a mess!’ She lifted her head and managed a wobbly smile. ‘I’m a mess. Thanks for being here for me.’
Her mother returned an ironic little smile as she lifted her hand to smear the wetness from Laura’s cheeks. ‘As you are for me. But please don’t think you always have to be, my dear. I want you to have a life of your own, away from here. Like Eddie.’
‘Well, we’ll talk about that when I’m through uni. Now let’s do this dinner. I don’t want Dad to know I’ve been upset.’
Pride lent her strength again. She snatched up the photographs. ‘I’ll just take these up to my room as reminders of my stupidity, clean myself up and be right back down to help. And don’t worry about me, Mum. I’ll be okay now.’
She dumped the photographs on her bed, bitterly thinking how easy she had been for Jake, how vulnerable she had been to his strong sex appeal, how willing to go along with his journey, letting him call all the shots. He’d probably had this other woman all along. Even if the pretty blonde was only a more recent acquisition for his sex life, the very fact of her spelled out that he felt no deep attachment to Alex Costarella’s daughter.
Washing her face, she wished she could wash Jake Freedman right out of her head.
Stay strong…
Oh, yes, she would. She had to. Nobody was going to wreck her life; not her father, not Jake, not any man. This steadfast determination carried her through dinner, sharpening her wits enough to dilute her father’s barbs with good-humoured replies. It also formed her resolution when she returned to her bedroom and was faced with the photographs again.
She scooped them up and shoved them straight back into the envelope her father had left with them. It was a blank envelope and she wrote Jake’s address on it, grimly pleased that the search for his house had not been completely wasted time. She wanted him to know that she knew about his other woman and he would not be sucking up any more of her time.
To underline that fact, she wrote an accompanying note—
As for any future meeting between us, you can whistle for me, Jake. I’m moving on. Laura.
No angst in those words. She liked the whistle bit. It carried a flippant tone, as well as implying he was just another jerk to be ignored.
Having slipped the note into the envelope, she sealed it and put it in her briefcase to be posted tomorrow. Over and done with. Her life was her own again.
Jake sorted his mail, frowning over the business-size envelope with the handwritten address. It wasn’t standard practice to handwrite anything that wasn’t personal these days. Curious about its content, he slit it open and drew out the photographs and the damning little note from Laura.
A lead weight settled on his heart.
He’d been sucked in by the dancer at the gym. She’d been Costarella’s tool. That was bleeding obvious now. He hadn’t suspected a set-up when she’d grabbed at him as he was leaving the gym, expressing what seemed like genuine fear of being stalked and pleading with him to walk her home—just a few blocks to where she knew she’d be safe. It wasn’t much to ask, wasn’t much to do—a random act of kindness that was coming back to spike him with a vengeance.
Then the embrace of gushing gratitude a week later, an over-the-top carry-on that he’d backed away from, not wanting it, not liking it, certainly not encouraging any further involvement with the woman. But that didn’t show in the photograph. It didn’t serve Costarella’s purpose to give Laura shots of his reaction.
He carried the mail into his house, despondently dumping it on the kitchen bench on his way to the small backyard, which provided a sunny haven from the rest of the world. He slumped into one of the deck chairs he’d set out there, still holding Laura’s note that brought their journey to a dead end.
He stared at the words—I’m moving on.
It was what he had meant her to do, advised her to do, and most probably it was the best course to chop him completely out of her life. Costarella was not about to tolerate any future connection between them. Even if he explained this photographic set up to Laura and she believed him, Costarella would look for other ways and means to drive wedges into their relationship. It gave him a focus for getting back at Jake for bringing him down and he’d relish that malicious power.
Definitely best that what he’d had with Laura ended here and now. No future.
He folded the note and tucked it into his shirt pocket.
He’d known all along that this was how it would have to be, but it was still damned difficult to accept. Achieving what he’d set out to do to Alex Costarella felt strangely empty. Like his life after his mother and stepfather had died. But he’d picked himself up then and moved forward. He could do it again.
There should have been warmth in the sunshine.
He couldn’t feel it.
The emptiness inside him was very cold.
FOR the rest of the year Laura applied herself so thoroughly to her uni course, she not only attained her degree, but also graduated with honours in every subject. This gave her an extra edge over other students entering the workforce for the first time. She was snapped up by a firm of architects, wanting a landscape specialist to enhance their designs. It was a wonderful buoyant feeling to know all her hard work had paid off and she was actually going to begin her chosen career.
The phone call notifying her of her successful interview came in the first week of December and her new employers wanted her in their office the following Monday. After revelling in the news for a few moments, she rushed out to the back garden to tell her mother, who was trailing after Nick Jeffries as he checked the sprinkler system.
‘Mum! I got it! The job I interviewed for!’ she called out, causing both of them to turn and give her their attention. She grinned exultantly at them as she added, ‘And they want me to start next week!’
Her mother’s face lit with pleasure. ‘That’s fantastic, Laura!’
‘Fantastic!’ Nick repeated, grinning