“That’s called a marriage and I’ve already tried that.”
“Why did you marry Greg in the first place?”
It was a fair question that she asked.
“Because you should experience everything once and to experience divorce you have to be married.” Standard response. In truth, Greg was stable and supportive, plus he knew a lot about business which I’d needed to learn. He wasn’t a dick or abusive or a cheater. He’d been patient and older. He’d been what I needed at the time, even though I was too young and hadn’t had fun.
So I spent from my late twenties to mid-thirties having fun. A lot of fun. Mainly specialising in younger men who didn’t want the commitment.
Until at some point it had felt empty.
“Try dating. Nothing heavy or demanding. Just date. Go out with an attractive guy, have a nice dinner or some fun activity and see if you want to go out with him again. No one’s saying you have to marry him.” Vanessa’s voice had the soothing quality that only usually appeared when she was talking to Teddy. Or a drunken Jackson.
“I’m not interested, Van. I just want to focus on the next project.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Not even a date with Liam Rosehill? You wouldn’t want to turn down a sexy rocker, would you?” Vic submerged herself up to her chin in the water. “If I wasn’t with Maxwell, I’d definitely be looking that way. He’s gorgeous.”
“If you like that sort of thing.”
“You mean tattoos and muscles? I know for a fact you definitely like tattoos and muscles, Soph. I’ve seen some of the men you’ve been out with.” Vanessa laughed. “Pull the other one! And you were having an intense conversation last night.”
I shook my head. “We don’t get on. We fell out that night. I know you both think that something happened, but it didn’t.”
“Why not? I know Simone figured you were going to comfort him in his hour of need and bang! Clearly we’re disappointed now.” Vic stretched out in the water. Payton and Lainey made their way over having been brave enough to take a dip in the cold pool.
“It was a misunderstanding.”
A big one.
Six Months Ago
“You didn’t need to speak to her like that.” Leif Rossi’s tone was full of something I couldn’t describe. There was hurt there, annoyance, something like arrogance too.
“There was no reason to drop that bombshell…”
“She’s a journalist. That’s what they do. It’s all about the story.” He stopped walking once we hit a narrow alleyway where we were unlikely to be seen. “Where do I know you from? How do I know you’re not after another story.”
“I’m friends with Simone Wood. The restaurant…”
“Owner. Yeah, I know. Shit. I hope this doesn’t fuck up her plans for her restaurant….” He looked away, tapping his foot to a rhythm I couldn’t hear.
“I hope that too. Look, I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have pulled that journo – you did know about your dad, didn’t you? If what she said was true?” I was beginning to realise I’d gotten myself into something I knew little about. Rock stars weren’t my usual clients; maybe their wives or girlfriends, but men who looked like Leif Rossi weren’t the sort to have facials or professional manscaping.
“What she said was true. The politician guy is my father, but he never knew my mum was pregnant. You’ll find this out anyway – it’ll be all over the press by now.” He shrugged his shoulders.
I expected him to take out a packet of cigarettes and light one up, but instead he pushed his hands in his pockets and left them there.
“Why do journalists dig like that? It isn’t in the public interest to know…” I shrugged, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s their job and there isn’t much anyone can do about it. I should walk you back to the restaurant.”
He looked tired. Irritated too, but most of all tired. Exhausted.
“I’m fine. I’m more bothered about you.”
Hazel eyes with flecks of green looked at mine. They were unsure, confused. “You’re a stranger. You don’t need to be bothered about anything. And I don’t fuck fans.”
