“Actually,” I begin, in a voice loud enough to be heard over the hub-bub, which brings everyone to silence, “I’m afraid my mother is very much mistaken. There is no engagement, and I have no plans to stand for election, now or in the future. Good night.”
I don’t stop to see how my words land. I walk out of the restaurant without a backward glance, leaving my mother and Eleanor to deal with the explanations.
I call Lulu from the cab, but it goes to voicemail and I don’t leave a message. She’ll call me when she can, I’m sure. I ask the cab to detour via the gallery, but the lights are all out, so I’m guessing she’s in a bar somewhere with Rosanna.
My blood feels like it’s been carbonated, and not in a good way. I need to talk to Lulu. Tell her what happened tonight. Feel her calming presence. But then I think about her exhibition. She deserves to have the night to celebrate. It would be cruel to bring her down with the shitfuckery my mother pulled tonight. There will be plenty of time to fill her in on our weekend away.
The upside of tonight’s mess is I am finally done with my mother and her controlling ways. What she did tonight was unforgiveable. Not only for the position it put me in, but for the unnecessary embarrassment to Eleanor and upset to Harry, who was undoubtedly blindsided by the idea I would no longer be working at the firm. And I feel not a shred of guilt or remorse when I say I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel ready to speak to her again.
I prowl restlessly around my soulless apartment for a while, checking my phone for messages before eventually climbing into a cold bed to toss and turn for the rest of the night.
The next morning there’s still been neither a call nor text from Lulu, and I’m really starting to worry. I’ve left half a dozen messages and texts and still nothing. I swing by her loft on my way to the office, but she’s not home. I guess she’s still at Rosanna’s. If they had a late night, they’re probably still asleep.
I know I need to speak to Harry and explain what happened last night, but he’s not in his office so I leave a note for him to come and see me and retreat to my office to wait.
There’s no point trying to concentrate, so I stare out the window. Waiting. Until Mandy comes in and unceremoniously dumps an updated contract on my desk, giving me a death stare.
“Is there something you’d like to say, Mandy?”
“Nothing whatsoever,” she spits, turning to leave. But as she reaches the door, she turns back. “You know, I always thought that hard exterior was a façade. I guess maybe I was wrong.” And with that little gem, she’s gone, passing Harry with a glare as he comes in. I guess word has gotten around. Although it doesn’t entirely make sense because I know Mandy despises Eleanor. But I have bigger problems today.
“Well, would you like to explain what happened last night, son? Because I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re rather confused.” Harry settles into one of the lush velvet visitors’ chairs so carefully chosen by Lulu.
“I’m so sorry, Harry.” I scrub my hands over my face. “I hardly know what to say. I had no idea my mother had any of that planned, and there is not a shred of truth to anything she said. In point of fact, Eleanor and I broke up several months ago.”
“Thank goodness. Humourless woman if ever there was one. Never could work out what you saw in her. But I have to admit I was surprised to discover one of my senior partners, and l like to think somewhat of a mentee, would make the decision to leave the firm without at least discussing it with me.”
“Of course I wouldn’t. I hope you know that.” Harry is the second last person on earth I would want to hurt. “It’s true she and Dad had plans for me, as you know, but lately, I’ve come to the realisation their plans might not be what I want.”
“Can an old man give you some unsolicited advice?”
“I don’t see why now would be any different than usual,” I say with a smile.
“I’ve known you all your life, and I’ve watched you grow into a good man and a great lawyer. But what I haven’t watched you become is happy. You only get one shot at this life, Nick. Don’t waste it on trying to impress others. The only person you need to impress is yourself.” Having dropped his wisdom bomb, Harry hoists himself up and leans forward to pay my arm.
“Do you want to know what happened after you left the restaurant?”
“Absolutely not. And for the foreseeable future, I don’t want to hear Mary’s name, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Understandable.” He turns at the door. “By the way, have you seen the social pages today?”
“No, Harry, I don’t typically check the social pages, surprisingly enough.” I don’t have much patience left for anything today.
“You should. There’s a picture of you and Eleanor, so you might need to do some damage control. Oh, and there’s a great review of Lulu MacLeod’s exhibition opening.”
I may be sluggish today, but that one wakes me up pretty damn quick.
“What? Photo of Eleanor and me?”
My fingers shake as I bring up the newspaper on my laptop. Right there, front and centre, big and bold, is a photo of Eleanor and me. Everyone else has been cropped out, and I’m gazing down at her, my hand over hers on my arm. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The photographer must have caught me just as I was pushing her hand away, but that’s not how it looks. It looks as though I’m holding her hand. It looks intimate.
And then I read the caption:
‘It appears on-again-off-again power couple Eleanor Whitford and Nick Pierce are on again, and he’s finally put a ring on it. Sources close to the couple have also indicated he will be parachuted into a safe seat at the next federal election, courtesy of his new fiancée’s well-connected father, Richard Whitford. Lucky for some.’
I don’t need Sherlock Holmes to tell me who thesourceswere. I’m not shaking anymore. I’ve turned to stone.
“I’d get onto it quickly if I were you. Wouldn’t want anyone misunderstanding.” Harry saunters out with an evil chuckle. Somehow, even he knows about Lulu. Looks like we were far more transparent than I thought if both Eleanor and Harry picked up on our connection.
