Just Breathe (14 page)

‘Should it always be about marketing? Can’t you just do what’s right for a person without having an ulterior motive?’

His lips pursed briefly and she braced herself for a lesson on best business practice but he surprised her. ‘One of my long-term clients died unexpectedly last year and I met his wife for the first time at the funeral. I shook her hand and wished her all the best. After today, that seems pretty uninspiring.’

She cocked her head. It wasn’t a response to be proud of – and, after his knightly efforts today, she figured there was more to him than that. Maybe he hadn’t found it yet. ‘The problem with crying like crazy is that it makes it hard to say everything you want to. I’m hopeless once I get started.’

A waiter appeared with bowls of pasta. When he’d done the cracked pepper thing and left, Ethan smiled a little. ‘Do you cry often? It’s not a problem but I might need to make a note to bring a box of tissues to our next meeting. I’m running out of handkerchiefs.’

She must seem like an emotional wreck. ‘I’m generally a three-tissue crier but today’s supply wasn’t enough for a funeral
and
running out of coffee, the car breaking down and my mother trying to put me in a home.’

‘In a home? Because you cry a lot?’

‘Not that kind of home. She inherited some money and wants to give some to my sister Amanda and me, which is very nice of her. But she’s decided I’m hopeless at running my own life, so she won’t let me have it unless I use it as a down payment on the apartment of her choice. Meanwhile, responsible Amanda gets a nice cheque.’

He winced with empathy. ‘Family and money. It’s a difficult business. What would you do with the money if she gave it to you?’

‘I haven’t thought too much about it. Years ago, I got a compensation payout from the car accident and used it to travel overseas, much to my mother’s disapproval. She’s making sure she gets her way this time.’

He pushed his fork through a pillow of tortellini, chewed thoughtfully. ‘Okay, forget the inheritance for a minute. What would you do with a bundle of money?’

Dee shrugged. ‘I don’t really think about that kind of stuff.’ Too much like planning a future. ‘Buy a better car, maybe.’

‘What about a
big
bundle of money? Say a handy couple of million?’

She started to shake her head but he cut in.

‘Hypothetically. What’s the first thing you’d think about buying?’

‘You mean imaginary money in an imaginary world?’

‘Yeah, why not?’

Why not? She could play that game. It didn’t have anything to do with a real, live future. ‘Let’s see. A car, obviously. Nothing big and flashy, just something nice and reliable.’

Ethan raised his eyebrows. ‘And …’

More? ‘Maybe some space of my own – so long as it didn’t come with repayments and pressure from Mum.’ She grinned and thought for a second. ‘Something sunny and warm and
roomy and quiet. Somewhere I could walk to the beach and buy great coffee on the way back. Like here.’ She swept an arm wide, taking in the expanse of beach in front of them, the apartments stacked up along the road. ‘Maybe a nice little flat around here.’

‘It’s hypothetical. What if you could afford something more than that?’

‘Could I afford a
house
near the beach?’

‘Why not?’

‘Okay, then a house might be nice. With a garden. And a big yoga room. With a view.’

‘So you’d keep teaching if you didn’t have to work?’

‘I don’t have to work?’

‘What if you didn’t have to?’

‘Right, well, I’d want to be useful, keep the flow of yoga knowledge going.’ Dee let herself picture her make-believe life. ‘If I had a studio downstairs, my private students could come to me and I wouldn’t have to put the children in day care.’

‘Children?’

‘Sure. It’s an imaginary world. I can have as big a dream as the next person in Make-Believe City.’

‘And is there an imaginary partner?’

‘Of course. I’d want my kids to have both parents for as long as they could.’

Ethan raised an eyebrow. ‘And this imaginary partner, he’d be tall, dark and handsome, I suppose.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. The outside bit doesn’t really worry me. But on the inside he’d be beautiful and strong and open to life.’ It’s an imaginary world, Dee, let yourself go. ‘And he wouldn’t be afraid of pain and fear and guilt and emotional scars. And he’d be fun, too, and
joyful, and he’d love me for being me.’ She sucked in a breath, surprised at what had come out.

Ethan sipped his wine, eyes curious, wistful even, above the rim of his glass. ‘You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?’

‘No, never actually, but it’s not hard when it’s all pretend and you don’t have to get hung up about wanting it all to happen.’

‘It could happen if you set your mind to it.’

She shook her head firmly. ‘Nu-uh. You’re just setting yourself up to be hurt if you trust in big happy plans. It’s a lot easier to let life happen and just be surprised.’ Ethan seemed about to say more but she jumped in, not willing to dig around in that thought any longer. ‘What about you? What’s in your imaginary world?’

‘A lot of people would say I’ve already got the dream life.’

Dee watched him a moment, taking in the stress lines around his mouth, the stiffness in his shoulder, the hint of longing in his dark eyes. ‘I think someone who dates a different woman every month has a dream he’s looking to fill. So who’s the dream woman in
your
Make-Believe City?’

His eyebrows popped up, surprised and a tad annoyed at the same time. ‘You’re assuming there is one particular woman. I may have imagined spending my life on an endless conveyor belt of beautiful women.’

Dee remembered the photo from the dinner party, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes – and she thought about the kind of man who rescues a woman he barely knows from a thunderstorm then keeps her company during a funeral. It was beyond chivalrous. It was more like a sneak-peak at something tender and compassionate hidden beneath a professional façade. ‘Just as well it’s Make-Believe City then because that would be a waste of some interesting
emotional talent.’

Ethan didn’t ask what she meant – just smiled like it was a cute thing to say – but Dee saw the way his eyes clung to hers, their deep brown peering into her sea-greens, as though he was searching for something well beyond the lenses. Dee gazed back, wondering what was going on behind his pools of espresso.

He cleared his throat suddenly, pushing a piece of pasta onto his fork. ‘So, your inheritance, would you go overseas again if you got the money, no strings attached?’

She noted the change of subject, figured he didn’t want to talk about his imaginary world either. ‘Not like before. I go overseas to study yoga every now and then when I can afford it but I’m happy here now. I wasn’t back then.’

‘I suppose your significant other wouldn’t be keen on you taking a long trip.’

Was that an enquiry about her relationship status? ‘My African violet dropped all its leaves the last time I went away. I’ve promised him a housesitter with a green thumb next time.’

He said nothing for a long moment, his focus moving from her eyes to her mouth to her throat – and her nerve endings fired like sparklers.

‘Look at the figures, Dee.’ Ethan slid a sheet of paper across the table to her. ‘In five years, if you keep to your budget, you’ll have enough for a down payment on an apartment.’

Her mouth went dry. Five years. That was a lot of future to be thinking about.

‘Of course, it doesn’t have to be property, but it’s always a good long-term investment and you shouldn’t have problems with repayments on a twenty-five-year loan.’

Twenty-five years! A pulse thumped in her ears. Ethan had no right to be planning her future. Hands clenched into fists, she inhaled deeply, trying to loosen the knot of anxiety and anger that gripped her gut, certain any second she’d explode – there had to be a limit to how much one body could process in a day. The trauma of the funeral and everything that came before it was debilitating enough without the sudden and surprisingly intense attraction to Ethan that followed shortly after. Then, ten minutes later, the emotional see-saw tipped again and she felt like a complete fool.

There she’d been, looking into his lovely eyes with her heart flip-flopping against her ribs, and he’d said, ‘Are you up to talking business?’

Maybe she was so out of practice in the whole relationship thing that she didn’t know how it worked any more. She thought there’d been little glowing embers floating about between them. And when he’d leaned closer, taken a deep, meaningful breath, she was sure he was about to ask something far more exciting than, ‘Can you check out this great balance sheet?’

Stupid girl. It was Ethan Roxburgh – eligible bachelor, lover of beautiful women – not some guy hoping for a date with a commercially challenged yoga teacher. Unfortunately, the realisation didn’t douse the embers, only made it all the more excruciating as she gazed at him
while he went through her business options.

First, he revisited the offers she received at the dinner: a model agency – worth a look if she was interested; gym franchise owner – nothing doing; clothing manufacturer – had potential; investment advisor – she didn’t have anything to invest; publisher – how-to books could be an interesting diversification.

Then he moved on to her finances: incremental fee increases; structured budgeting; profit margins. As he talked, Dee’s brain hurt trying to jackhammer her way through her mental block. He got her attention, though, when he mentioned a new car.

‘You can’t run a business if your assets are unreliable,’ he told her. When she frowned, he said, ‘It’s bad for business if your car keeps breaking down. If you increase your fees, the new pricing structure could sustain some conservative asset development.’

‘Huh?’

‘You could afford a loan on a new car. Or a new second-hand car.’

That put the emotion meter in an upward slide for a while. But his idea of a twenty-five-year loan had smashed it back to earth.

‘What’s the matter?’ Ethan asked.

Her hand was a fist on top of his page of figures, holding it down like a paperweight. ‘I … you … I don’t want to know about twenty-five years. Or even five years. You don’t know what’s going to happen in that time. I don’t
want
to know. I just want to know how to get my shit together.’ It came out more angrily than she planned.

It seemed to take him by surprise too. ‘Oka-ay.’ He took his forearms off the table, sat back in his chair and surveyed her with interest.

Suddenly self-conscious, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be a pet project any more.
‘Couldn’t we just talk about what I need to do now and think about the other stuff later?’ Or never.

He nodded slowly, as though trying to read her. ‘If you like. Why don’t we leave this till another time? We should probably ring for road service.’

Maybe he was considering the ‘never’ option too. ‘Sure.’

Ethan paid for lunch while Dee phoned road service. Only an hour and a half’s delay now. They spoke little as he drove back through the city, Dee clutching his pages of figures in her lap. He pulled to the kerb in front of her car and turned to face her.

‘I’m part of a group of business owners that get together once a month. Our next meeting is a dinner in a couple of weeks. I think you’d find it beneficial to come along as my guest. Are you interested?’

So he hadn’t given up yet. ‘Will it be like the advertising night?’

He huffed a laugh. ‘No, it’s very informal. We book a room in a club and eat dinner. No dancing, no PR. You can have champagne but there’s a strict limit of one case per guest.’

Dee felt her cheeks heat up. ‘What do you mean by beneficial?’

‘There’s a lot of business expertise at those meetings and a few people worth meeting if you want to step ahead with your plans.’

‘I don’t want to build an empire, you know. I just want to teach yoga.’

‘Sure, but you’ll never capitalise on your newfound fame sitting in a classroom. Besides, if you want business advice, you may as well go to the experts.’

She pulled in an assertive breath. ‘It sounds scary but okay.’

It seemed to amuse him. ‘I’ll get Cathy to ring you with the date.’ He checked his watch. ‘I’ve got a meeting in half an hour. Are you going to be all right waiting here?’

‘Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve got heaps of reading material to keep me occupied.’ She waved his notes around, trying to look excited.

He watched her a moment, like he’d done it all day, as though she was a new breed of person. ‘Before you go.’ He reached into the back for his briefcase, pulled out a brown paper package. ‘I bought you something.’

Ethan bought her a
something
. Surprise and curiosity made her heart do a jig. It was a book, a thick book. She slid it out.
The Idiot’s Guide to Bookkeeping
. ‘Oh.’

‘No offence over the title but I thought it might go nicely on your coffee table. Then when you do your banking, if you deposit some money in there, you might be inspired to read a few pages when you make a withdrawal.’ The flecks of light in his dark eyes twinkled.

Her fingers curled around the edges of the book. ‘I haven’t got a coffee table.’

‘I can probably help you with that.’

‘It’s official. I am a complete loser.’ Dee held a glass of wine aloft, toasting herself.

‘That’s been official for ages. What have you done now?’ Leon asked as he held out his glass to Robert for a refill. They were sitting at the kitchen bench having drinks before their unofficial weekly meal. Leon and Robert never actually said, ‘Come over once a week for dinner,’ but after she’d turned up two Monday nights in a row, they’d just expected her after that.

‘I’ve got a humongous crush on Ethan Roxburgh.’

‘Ha. I knew you wanted to be a Roxburgh Girl,’ Leon said.

‘No, I don’t. I just want to sit at a table and drink coffee with him all day.’ She hadn’t been able to get him out of her head since the funeral. If he hadn’t given her that book, she probably would’ve walked away thinking, ‘Well, that was nice – now back to reality,’ but the book changed the dynamics. Not only was he considerate, generous and had a very sexy shining
armour, he’d also proved to be the opposite of everyone she’d ever met from Big Biz City. He hadn’t ripped her off for her alternative banking methods; he’d given her a new ‘bank book’.

‘But what about Hollywood Tom?’ Robert asked.

‘Oh, he’s still nice and a much more sensible person to have a crush on, more my type and all that, but …’

‘No sparks,’ Leon finished for her. ‘Ditch him for the hunky rich guy.’

‘There’s nothing to ditch. We’re still just doing coffee. And having a crush on Ethan Roxburgh is completely, ridiculously, embarrassingly pointless.’ And she didn’t want to want him.

‘Didn’t he ask you out to dinner?’ Robert said.

‘It’s a
business opportunity
. His only interest in me is as a charity case. It would never cross his mind to consider me in any, you know, romantic way. I’m like the anti-Roxburgh Girl. Probably just as well, really. I’d have no idea how to behave like one.’

‘That’s easy.’ Leon said. ‘Spend a fortune on clothes and hair and make-up, throw yourself at him, fuck him at the first opportunity because there probably won’t be a second, then look stoic and ethereal when he dumps you for the next one.’

‘Lucy reckons he doesn’t sleep with them all,’ Dee said.

‘Who could?’ Robert said.

‘I mean, she reckons he doesn’t have relationships with them, just likes to be seen with attractive women.’

Leon and Robert exchanged a glance. ‘Gay.’

‘No, I don’t mean like
that
,’ she said with an irritated edge.

Leon laughed. ‘You got it bad, babe. I’m sure he’s a very nice heterosexual person who
only sleeps with nice girls when he absolutely has to.’

‘Oh, shut up.’

It was late February, nearing the end of a hot summer that was showing no signs of waning yet. They blasted themselves with mosquito spray and moved out to the courtyard to cook a barbecue in the marginally cooler evening air.

Turning marinated tofu on the hot plate, Leon said, ‘Val would be in maternal ecstasy if you got to be a Roxburgh Girl. You have to promise to take me with you for the ceremonial hanging of the press clippings.’

Dee laughed out loud. ‘I wouldn’t have to worry about being labelled a Roxburgh Girl. She’d buy up every newspaper and no one would see me.’ Val would probably like Ethan more than me, she thought. ‘Anyway, a guy like that wouldn’t take someone like me on a real date, and all that business talk would drive me crazy.’

A light breeze ruffled the trees in the yard. Dee closed her eyes and turned her face to meet it. ‘Have you ever thought about what you might be doing in twenty-five years?’

‘I’ll be retired,’ Robert said.

‘You’re kidding,’ said Dee.

‘In twenty-five years I’ll be sixty-one and I’m retiring at sixty.’ Robert was a partner in an architectural firm. ‘So in twenty-five years, I will’ve cashed in my share of the business and spent a year catching up on every novel I haven’t had time to read while I’m jet-setting around the world with Leon.’

Dee shot a surprised look at Leon. This was the first she’d heard of long-term commitment. ‘So I guess we know what you’ll be doing, you kept man, you.’

‘Not entirely. Some of the jet-setting will be to see my fabulously wealthy yoga students
who are happy to pay my airfares for extended visits twice a year.’

‘Yeah, right,’ she said.

Leon scooped tofu and prawns onto a platter while Dee topped up the wine. That kind of future was pure make-believe. Even she could come up with a wild idea about rich students and travelling the world – if she allowed herself to think about it. It was like Ethan’s imaginary world. That wasn’t the kind of future that could hurt if it was taken away, not if you didn’t believe it.

‘What about five years then?’ Dee said. ‘Have you thought about what you’ll be doing then?’

‘Well, I’ll be a full-time yoga teacher by then,’ Leon said. ‘I want to teach as much as I can at first, then maybe branch into yoga tourism.’

‘Yoga what?’ she said.

‘Organising yoga holidays, say to India,’ Leon told her. ‘I organise the travel, book the accommodation, plan day trips, that sort of thing. And there could be different tours for different levels of students. And then there’s the corporate retreat, which is becoming really popular.’

‘Leon could do that and teach at the same time, just take time off for hosting tours or running retreats,’ Robert added.

Dee looked back and forth between them, taken aback. They’d really thought about it. ‘Have you planned when you’ll be all doing this?’

Leon shrugged. ‘I’m hoping to leave the soapie and teach full-time next year, so I figure the first India tour would be in three years then I’d start the retreats some time after that.’

‘That’s pretty fixed. I thought you just wanted to be a yoga teacher.’

‘I do. I want to be just like you. You’re my inspiration, babe. But I don’t know if I can
work the hours you do or find as many dedicated privates. God, your students all love you. So, I figure the only way I’ll be able to afford to go back to India on a regular basis is if I make some money taking others with me. We could do it together. You’d be great.’

‘Me organising tours?’

‘Not the organising bit. You’d be shit at that. But you’d be great at helping them get over the culture shock. You know how first-timers freak out when they get there, can’t handle the crowds and the heat and all that. You’ve been there so many times, you’d be like the yoga holiday guru.’

A vision of the busy street Dee lived on when she stayed in the south of India flashed in her mind. Walking down the road in her leather thongs, dodging motorcycles and hawkers, perusing the mounds of colourful fruit in the market, eating sweeter than sweet pastries in tea shops. It could be fun. She could show them the ancient ruins outside the city.

‘But anyway, it’s only in the planning stages. Won’t happen for a couple of years yet. It’s still just an idea.’

Dee pulled on a mental brake so fast she could hear the wheels of her brain screeching. Don’t think any further, Dee. Don’t get your hopes up about something that might never happen. You’ll only be setting yourself up for disappointment. ‘Sure, whatever.’