Just Breathe (17 page)

The shoe was halfway down the length of the table now. Maybe she could fake it, come back to the room to collect it after the others were gone. She stood up, but, with only one of Amanda’s skyscraper heels, she looked like Quasimodo without the hunch.

‘Excuse me a minute.’ She dropped to her knees and crawled to where the shoe lay butted against the centre leg of the huge timber top. Backing out again, she popped up, waved the errant shoe at the perplexed faces waiting for her. ‘Do you think I could be an ambassador
without
these shoes?’

Ethan laughed out loud when she told him about the lost shoe. She hadn’t intended to highlight her embarrassment but when she turned up at the café in Amanda’s Armani suit, he raised his eyebrows and said, ‘Dee the Businesswoman.’ Then he’d seen the funky pink thongs she’d traded for the heels.

‘What’s with the footwear?’ he asked, and she couldn’t resist telling.

‘At least I’ve given them something to laugh about. They all looked like they could do with a bit of de-stressing.’

‘You’re good at that.’

‘Giving people something to laugh at or de-stressing?’

‘Both.’ He kinked an eyebrow and her heart thumped. ‘So how did you entertain them for the rest of the meeting?’

Dee told him about the discussions, finishing with Toby from Marketing. ‘I was surprised he wanted a commitment from me. After what I said and the way he reacted, I thought that’d be the end of it.’

‘Toby likes to find out what people are made of. Your comeback told him you won’t be pushed around.’

‘He needn’t have been so gross about it.’

‘Business isn’t polite, Dee. It’s just business. Don’t take it personally.’

‘That’s a bit hard when someone’s measuring you up for a “tinsy-winsy” aerobics outfit.’

Ethan’s mouth turned up at one corner. ‘It might’ve been better if you’d turned up in your yoga clothes. That outfit’s enough to render a man speechless.’

Imagine that. Ethan Roxburgh, admirer of beautiful women, struck dumb by a pair of sweaty tights and a singlet top.

‘So where to from here?’ he asked.

Anywhere he liked.

‘This contract with Health Life is the perfect launching pad for the actions we’ve been talking about,’ he continued. ‘If you can pull a few things into place now, you could be driving a new second-hand car next month.’

‘That soon?’

‘You’ve got a few pieces to move into place – your fees, a workable budget, a business plan, add in a bit of networking. Speaking of which, the guest list for that dinner came out today and you’re in luck.’

He pulled a sheet of paper from his briefcase and laid it in front of her. A column of names ran down the page with partners listed alongside. ‘Graeme Paffe, the clothing manufacturer you spoke to at the ball, will be there.’ He pointed to his name highlighted on the list. ‘Last time I heard, he was getting in to sports clothing, so, with the Health Life DVD underway, it might be a good opportunity to have another chat.’ He smiled at the nervous face she made. ‘I’ll introduce you, get it started and you can take it from there.’

‘Note to self – brush up on business jargon before Wednesday night.’ She ran a finger
down the list of names, stopped at ‘R’.
Roxburgh, Ethan and Date (Dee Nichols).

He pulled the page away. ‘That’s the president’s idea of a joke. A business dinner’s hardly date material.’

‘Obviously.’

Ethan checked his watch. ‘Lucy will be waiting. I’ll walk to the elevator with you.’

The lobby of Roxburgh House was busy with the lunchtime crowd and, as they made their way to the bank of lifts, Ethan bent his head to hers. ‘By the way, your shoulder stretches are great. I used them before the last couple of squash games and smashed my opponent.’

‘Is that good?’

‘Absolutely.’

They stopped amidst the throng of office workers.

‘By the way,’ Dee said, ‘I tried one of the balance sheets in the book you gave me.’ An elevator pinged, doors opened and she stepped in behind a mass of passengers.

When she turned around, Ethan was still in the doorway. ‘Did it balance?’

‘Not yet.’

Dee was keyed up after Lucy’s class. It had been a stimulating day – a successful business meeting, promise of spectacular money, recounting of said meeting with Ethan, then Lucy. And she’d had five cups of coffee. It would take something momentous to ruin her mood. What better time to ring her mother?

She decided to tackle the apartment problem from a new angle. It was Val’s birthday next week and Dee figured she could treat her to a posh afternoon tea. Over fine china and pretty cakes, she’d explain she didn’t want to buy an apartment. Her mother would be so delighted by her surroundings, her daughter’s thoughtfulness and the clever way she was getting her shit together that she’d tell her she could make her own decisions about Auntie May’s money.

‘Do you know how much they charge for high tea?’ Val cried down the phone. ‘You can’t afford that.’

Dee flexed the sudden kink in her neck as she waited at traffic lights. ‘You don’t know what I can afford and I’d really like to take you. You always talk about when Nana used to treat you and Auntie Fee for your birthdays. I thought it might be nice if we did that.’

‘I appreciate the thought, Dee, but I’d prefer you didn’t spend your money on me.’

‘It’s just we haven’t seen a lot of each other lately. It would be a chance to catch up.’ They hadn’t spoken about anything but apartment hunting since Christmas and Dee actually missed their usual fractious conversations.

‘To tell you the truth, I’d prefer you kept your money and spent time with me looking at apartments. I’ve narrowed it down to three or four now.’

‘But it’s your birthday. No one wants to spend their birthday –’

‘It would be the perfect gift. I’d feel like I’d achieved something.’

Dee took the phone from her ear and pulled faces at it.

‘Dee? Dee, are you still there?’

‘Yes, Mum.’ Still trapped by maternal obstinacy. ‘Why don’t we do both? We could go to afternoon tea then visit a couple of properties?’ Maybe she could talk her out of the second half of the proposition over the first half’s fine china and pretty cakes.

‘Yes, I suppose we could do that. But let’s see the apartments first.’

Arianne and Howard’s conversation stopped as Dee walked into their living room.

‘What are you wearing?’ Howard said.

Dee had used the bathroom in their flat above the yoga school to shower, change and apply what little cosmetic skills she had to her face and hair. ‘It’s Amanda’s suit. Do you think it’s okay for networking?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Howard. ‘Can you walk in those shoes?’

She’d reluctantly put on Amanda’s high heels again – even Dee could see the thongs didn’t work. ‘No, but I don’t think that’s their primary function.’

‘Your hair looks nice,’ said Arianne from where she was propped on the lounge, supported by a huge pillow.

Dee had twisted her thick hair into a loose knot. ‘Thanks, I spent hours on it,’ she joked then winced as butterflies flapped nervously in her belly. ‘I’d prefer to teach twenty yoga classes back to back than do this stuff. The meeting’s at a private club and I can only get in if Ethan gives a secret password or something. Do you think I should shake hands with the guests or curtsey?’ She hitched at her skirt and re-tucked the blouse. ‘I’m going to wait on the street. Ethan should be here any minute.’

He’d suggested they go together to avoid any problems getting into the club, so she left her car parked behind the school and waited for him on the street, working on settling her nerves with some deep breathing.

The persistent sense of apprehension she’d suffered since the accident had been in overdrive since Ethan began his mentoring. Lately she’d been jumping at sudden noises, struggling to shake the morning anxiety and had a recurring dream about having no legs. She couldn’t loosen the tightness from her back, either, not sure if it was stress or Amanda’s heels or the fact that stretching and resting was taking a back seat while she went to meetings, filled in for Arianne and kept her private students happy.

And the ridiculous crush on Ethan Roxburgh felt like a waste of the space in her head. After the crash, her mind was littered with sharp-edged memories, lumps of grief and broken bits of dreams. It took ages to sort them out, file them in boxes and stack them in neat, manageable piles. Now sweet, funny thoughts of Ethan kept slinking about in there, taking up valuable room. She’d sweep them up, stow them away then she’d see him again and they’d spring out and skip around like a kid in a playground, making her feel dizzy.

As he pulled to the kerb, she opened the door and looked in.

‘Hey, Dee,’ he smiled.

Dizzy again.

‘Have you invested in a new wardrobe?’ he asked as they took off.

Dee glanced at the suit she’d worn to the Health Life meeting disguised with another of Amanda’s blouses. ‘No, just raided my sister’s closet. She thought this was more appropriate than my normal style.’

Ethan ran his eyes over her, not as convinced as Amanda.

‘You know, more professional, less hippie,’ she said.

‘You are what you are, Dee. You don’t need to be anyone else.’

It wasn’t a criticism, more like a positive assessment, yet it made her feel like a balloon that’d been burst. If hippie was how he saw her, no amount of yoga outfits or borrowed clothes would make him consider her as anything else, much less anyone he’d be interested in. Ethan parked in the CBD and they walked to a small door nestled between a bistro and a menswear store. He lifted the cover on an electronic security pad and entered a code. There was a click, he pushed the door open then closed it securely behind them.

‘This is all very cloak and dagger,’ Dee whispered as she followed him up a narrow staircase.

‘It’s just to maintain privacy for high-profile club members.’

‘We won’t have to wear funny hats or sing rousing songs, will we?’

‘You can if you like but you’ll be doing it on your own.’ He stopped on a small landing and pressed an elevator button. ‘Did you bring copies of your business plan and a breakdown of financials?’

‘Oh, no. Was I meant to?’

‘Just kidding. Relax and have fun.’

Upstairs was a series of rooms that looked like they belonged in an English TV legal drama. There were leather chairs that could swallow a person whole, crystal decanters, elegant lamps, polished timber and uniformed waiters. Have fun? She was too scared of slipping on the waxed floors and taking out an antique club member.

Ethan led her to a room impressively set for dinner and already filled with guests. The hushed, formal atmosphere was replaced with a volume that indicated some lively, hearty
discussion underway. Ethan moved from group to group, introducing Dee, describing her variously as a yoga teacher, the Health Life girl, self-employed in fitness and ‘in the alternative lifestyle industry’. Who would have thought she had so many labels?

There were more introductions when they sat down for dinner. Graeme Paffe sat opposite, and on either side of him was a woman who owned a printing business and a newspaper reporter. After a glass of wine and dinner Dee was, in fact, having fun. Graeme Paffe was an enthusiastic conversationalist and Ian, the reporter, was a funny guy. The head of a national environment organisation was the guest speaker and Dee made a note to recycle more and impress Hollywood Tom with the club’s green interests.

The networking began in earnest after dinner as Ethan deftly steered the conversation. ‘Perhaps you could tell Graeme about your new campaign with Health Life, Dee.’

Up to this point, she’d let Ethan do the talking, adding the occasional quip when she was sure it wouldn’t expose her business ignorance, keeping her mouth shut when she wasn’t. Now he gave her the floor and was waiting for her to boldly describe her accomplishments. Oh, geez. She’d tried that for years with her family, telling them her back was okay, that she wasn’t so sad, that she could make her own decisions, that she had the life she wanted. They never believed a word. Perhaps best to play it down – it wouldn’t be so embarrassing when they laughed it off. ‘Health Life’s going to make DVDs for their members as part of their healthy life promotion. And I’ll be in the one about yoga.’

Ethan frowned briefly. ‘She’s modest about her involvement,’ he told the table. ‘What she didn’t explain was that Health Life designed the DVDs around her. After the interest in the ad campaign, and in Dee in particular, they wanted her to be more involved. The DVD is being shot next month and she’ll be the focus of Health Life promotions until the others come out. It’s an
exciting new direction for Dee.’

She felt a moment of discomfort at the thought of an ‘exciting new direction’. But there wasn’t time to correct him when half a dozen people were offering their congratulations, convinced of her success. That in itself was an ‘exciting new direction’.

‘We’re trying to crack the yoga market ourselves,’ Graeme said. ‘The market research is saying yoga people aren’t into gym clothes so we’re working on what it is they want.’

Dee clapped quietly. ‘It’s about time. I have so much trouble finding comfortable clothes to teach in. The school I work for has been looking for singlets to sell to students for ages but can’t find one we all like.’

‘Really? I’d love to sit down and talk to you about it. We’ve done a lot of research but it’d be great to get an opinion from a market expert. Have you got a card? Would you mind if I gave you a call?’

Wow, market expert. ‘Not at all but I don’t have any cards.’ That didn’t sound like an expert. ‘You know, with me.’

He pulled two cards and a pen from his jacket. ‘Put your details on the back and keep the other one.’

As she was writing, Ethan spoke in her ear. ‘Don’t be afraid to give yourself a rap. A bit of spin never hurts.’ He stood then and moved to another table.

After a brief discussion about the pros and cons of Lycra, Graeme departed too and Ian the Reporter moved in beside her.

‘I hope I never have to see Graeme in Lycra,’ he said.

Dee flicked her eyes briefly to Graeme’s lumpy body. ‘Might be a little disturbing. He could do with some exercise, though. And maybe a hamstring stretch.’

‘Could be a struggle getting into a Downward Dog though.’

Dee raised her eyebrows. ‘You know about yoga?’

‘I’ve done a few Salutes to the Sun in my time but don’t tell anyone. You get run out of the journalists’ union if you’re too healthy.’

Dee grinned and let him fill her wine glass.

‘So do you feel like Atlas,’ Ian asked, ‘carrying the weight of Health Life’s advertising campaign on your shoulders?’

‘I do now. I never thought about it like that. Thanks a heap.’

‘No problem. Are there any other issues you need me to cut down to size?’

He winked. She laughed.

‘What’s it like working for Health Life?’ he asked.

‘I don’t actually
work
for them but everyone I’ve met has been very supportive.’

‘Leonard Frost is an interesting guy.’

‘He calls me his yoga girl, which is sweet and weird at the same time.’

‘He’s a good businessman.’

Dee shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know but I embarrassed myself in front of him last Christmas and he’s never mentioned it, which is very nice.’

‘Do tell. I love a good embarrassment.’

Ian hooted and clinked his glass against hers when she told him about peeling the cakes off her face. ‘I guess that would be classified as catering-slash-entertainment. So what do you think about the rumour Health Life is putting its fees up next month?’

She shrugged again. ‘I can’t afford health insurance, so it doesn’t bother me.’

‘Hear, hear,’ he said. He leaned back in his chair, eyes roving the room, landing on Ethan
at the table behind. ‘So what’s the story with Ethan Roxburgh? Are you guys an item?’

Dee was midway through a sip of wine and swallowed quickly to avoid choking on the absurdity. ‘Not likely. I’m hardly Roxburgh Girl material.’

‘You’re right. You’ve actually got a brain.’

‘Thanks, I guess, but that’s a bit mean.’

‘Yeah, I s’pose. But why do these rich guys always date models-slash-actors-slash-singers? I bet there are some cute astrophysicists out there. Why don’t they get a look in? Or school teachers? I’ve seen some hot teachers in my time.’

Dee looked over at Ethan, his face businesslike and intense. ‘Good point. I guess they don’t run across each other. I mean, when was the last time you met an astrophysicist?’

‘Okay, what about florists then? Or writers or … or physiotherapists?’

‘Who needs a physiotherapist?’ Ethan said as he took the chair on the other side of Dee.

‘Just a theory,’ she said. ‘Ian was wondering –’

‘Whether Roxburgh Holdings is serious about getting into manufacturing?’ Ian cut in.

Ethan’s smile was a mix of amusement and irritation. ‘That would be a no comment, Ian.’

The two men eyed each other off for a moment.

‘Okay, Mr Roxburgh,’ Ian said suddenly, ‘good to see you again.’ He stood abruptly, shook hands with Ethan and Dee and left the table.

Ethan watched him go then leaned in close, kept his voice low as he spoke to her. ‘Everything all right with him?’