The Boyfriend Sessions (13 page)
Read The Boyfriend Sessions Online
Authors: Belinda Williams
I tore my focus away from his eyes and studied the menu as if my life depended on it.
“There’s nothing for it,” I said miserably when the waiter joined us at our table. “Pancake stack with bacon and maple syrup and a double shot espresso, thanks.”
The stout Mediterranean man who appeared to be the owner gave me a broad smile. “She’s got good taste, Max.”
Max grinned and ordered an omelet that sounded equally as delicious and fattening. “While they’re preparing that, why don’t you show me your portfolio?”
I couldn’t help it. I pursed my lips into a thin line as I reached into my bag to retrieve the A3 folder that held my collection of work. Nervous, I pushed it toward him. “Take a look through it first and then ask me questions,” I said stiffly. “I’m not going to get all precious and go into my artistic rationale for each. That would just bore you.”
“Unlikely.” But he did as I suggested and flicked through the folder of sketches. Most were black and white, but I’d taken a few of the originals and transferred them into a graphic design program which allowed me to alter them digitally and add color. The effect was a series of images that looked as though they’d been created by a glossy watercolor paintbrush.
While Max studied the images, I turned my attention to the scene outside the window. The army of commuters was slowly dissipating to make way for a sprinkling of tourists, who traversed the area around the harbor in a much more leisurely fashion.
“Did you ever read fantasy novels as a kid?” Max asked, not taking his eyes off my sketches.
“No, not really. I did love stories like Narnia. And I’ve always loved medieval history.”
“It shows. But it’s all so original.” He turned the page and I heard him swear softly under his breath. “What are these? It’s like you’ve somehow managed to blend the modern with the make-believe. I can’t describe it.”
“Photo manipulations using a blend of photography and digital art.” He was going through a series of about eight images I’d created using photography, my sketch book and my graphic design programs.
“How does it work?”
“You take a photo, in this case, a portrait of a real person. Then you add fantasy elements using a combination of sketches that I transfer into illustration software. I use a variety of techniques in the program to blend the real with make-believe.”
He’d stopped on one of my favorite pieces—a close up of an elfin-looking, fiery-haired young girl leaning up against an ancient tree. Gilded fairy wings sprouted from the layers of her pale green cloak and her focus was on a tiny fairy hovering nearby. The light surrounding them was golden and hazy. I’d superimposed a trailing tattoo in the same colors on the skin of her arms and on one of her cheeks, so it looked like the branches of the tree extended onto her features.
“How did you take the photos?”
“That’s the trick. I’m not a photographer,” I admitted, hastily. “These were all stock photos I purchased and worked with.”
“It’s got tremendous potential,” Max breathed quietly as he turned to another page.
“It’s there more to demonstrate my breadth of ability.”
“Which it certainly does.” Finally he closed the portfolio and pushed it back across the table to me. “When can you come in and meet some of the geeks?”
“How do you mean?”
Max sat back and waited while the owner placed our coffees on the table. When he was gone, Max ignored his latte and leaned forward again. “We’re creating characters, or avatars, as we in the industry call them, for our next project. Some of these would be a perfect starting point. If you come in and talk to our guys they can run you through how they create them. Then you can see if you can deliver something they could work with.”
“They don’t create them from scratch themselves?”
“Rarely. These guys are technically creative, not artistically creative like you. Give them the starting point, which I believe you can do, and they can turn it into something really powerful.”
I took a much needed sip of my double shot espresso. The bitterness tasted good in my mouth. I hated to bring it up, but couldn’t not mention it. “How much do you think these are worth?”
“For our purposes, at least a few grand each. But keep in mind, this is new project for me too, so I’ll need to chat to some of my industry contacts who’ll give me a fair idea of what these would normally go for. I don’t want to undervalue you.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that. I was more interested in learning what sort of time I should dedicate to this if I’m freelancing. No point spending hours on it, if I’m not going earn any decent money out of it. I might as well just keep it as a hobby if that’s the case.”
“No way. These shouldn’t be sitting on your hard drive or on the shelf. These deserve to be seen.”
I was surprised at Max’s determined tone. “Are you going to represent me?” I asked, jokingly.
“For the purposes of my gaming project, damn right. Then we need to find out how we can get some contacts happening for you in the publishing industry, but that’s not exactly my area. I can still ask around though.”
I was genuinely touched. It was that Spencer stubbornness rearing its head, I knew. Maddy was just like that. Once she got the scent of something good, she’d stick with it. I was fast learning Max was the same.
“I really appreciate all this, Max, I really do. And I’d be more than happy to come and chat to your guys. Let me know a time and we’ll work something out.”
“This week if you can?”
Wow, he wasn’t wasting time.
His eyes had become serious and it didn’t escape my notice that they appeared darker when they were intent on something or someone.
“Sure, just let me know.”
“Good.” He placed both of his hands on the edge of the table, his eyes magically brightening. “That’s the business side done with. Let’s eat.”
I looked at my small mountain of pancakes, drizzled with a river of maple syrup and a forest of bacon at the base. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it to work after this.”
“I’m pretty sure Maddy won’t accept that as an excuse.”
He was right. “Maybe if I claim your crazy driving made me sick after breakfast?”
He choked on his egg. “Charming. I’ll have you walking to work for that comment.”
I pouted and fluttered my eyelashes at him dramatically. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.” His deadpan look had me swallowing.
“That’s not very nice.”
“Neither is your comment about my driving.” He was trying to look hurt but failing. “Besides, it’s boyfriend therapy session tonight. You’d better eat up. You’ll need all your strength.”
Ouch. I’d totally forgotten. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“No problems. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m sure you are,” I muttered under my breath and got down to the business of tackling my Everest of pancakes.
The next instalment in my Everest of ex-boyfriends would have to wait until tonight, thankfully.
“French Ben is not the first to have requested Christa’s hand in marriage.” This was Maddy’s not so subtle introduction to the evening’s counseling session.
As my three girlfriends nodded knowingly, Max’s eyes darted to find mine. “French admirer?”
“Not talking about him tonight, sorry,” Scarlett said, through a mouthful of pad thai. “This guy is called Nick.”
I felt myself recoil slightly at the name even though it had been a few years. I could easily claim the wounds from that relationship had well and truly healed but, if I looked closely, I was pretty sure there’d still be a red, angry scar on my heart somewhere.
This was going to be a rough session.
Max still watched me carefully. “I’ll take it by the absence of a nickname he was a little more serious.”
“Oh, we could give him plenty of nicknames,” Maddy replied, “but none of them are fit for polite conversation.”
I didn’t miss the protective tone in her voice and neither did Max. “Right,” he said.
With a deep sigh, I looked around the room.
Cate looked at me sympathetically. “Well, we pretty much know the background because we were all friends with you by then, so why don’t you just give Max the condensed version?”
The condensed version? I grimaced. “Good looking, narcissistic asshole with money.”
While Scarlett laughed into her noodles, Max narrowed his eyes at me. “And you went out with him because he was good looking or he had money?”
“Neither. He was persistent,” I admitted.
Max raised his eyebrows at me. “So if a guy’s persistent enough, a girl will go out with him, even if he’s completely unsuitable? I should keep that in mind.”
I was being elusive and I knew it. I had no stomach for food now we’d moved onto that subject, so I pushed my noodles away and reached for my glass of wine. It would probably be easier if I just talked everyone through it. Although my girlfriends were around at the time, there were details I’d kept to myself.
“Alright, here’s how it started … ”
I met Nick Styles during my first job out of university.
I was lucky enough to land an entry level position in a major Sydney advertising agency, Styles, Whaite & Sanders, in their design team. Nick was in the account management team as an account executive. For you non-agency types, that means he was the lowest of the low, a graduate, like myself.
Except with one small difference. His dad was one of the partners of the agency.
It appeared Nick had every intention of following in Rob Styles’ footsteps. Rob was the major operating force in the agency, having spent years in account management and eventually account strategy. Rob was a charming man, personable, warm and approachable, but led a tight ship.
This included requiring Nick to start at the bottom and work his way up. Theirs was a strange dynamic. It was clear both father and son loved each other, but they were extremely different. Where Rob was warm, Nick was cool. Rob was engaging, whereas Nick was impassive.
I’d been working there six months before I even realized that Nick was the boss’ son. I’d seen him around, but he was always so quiet and very hard working—he was already in when I arrived in the morning and still there when I left at night. Designers put in some pretty long hours, so that’s saying something.
It wasn’t until the Christmas party at the end of my first year we had the chance to talk. By that time I think he’d actually had too much to drink. Maybe that made him bolder than usual and he approached me after my female co-workers left me alone to go to the bathroom.
We shared some small talk about work and some of the accounts we’d been working on before I predictably put my foot in my mouth.
“So, what’s it like working for your dad?” I think were my exact words.
Nick looked shocked at first, but regained himself quickly. “Pretty good, most of the time.”
“Come on, you can be honest with me.” I think I’d had a few glasses of wine myself by this point.
Nick observed me in that way of his where he’d look at you carefully, his face completely devoid of emotion, disguising whatever thoughts were going on inside. He’d make a great poker player. That was the first time I noticed his eyes. Even in my inebriated state, I can remember wondering why on earth I had missed them previously. They were a cool, intense blue.
Anyway, the feeling appeared mutual, because the next thing I knew he was directing me outside onto the balcony. We stayed together for the rest of the night talking.
Once I got past his initial shyness he was surprisingly easy to talk to, as well as highly intelligent. He admitted to me on that first night that he hadn’t wanted to work in advertising, but apparently it hadn’t been an option.
At twenty-three he seemed resigned to his fate and already acted like someone older than his years. For the first time I realized how much pressure he was under, his dad’s expectations weighing on him heavily. Rob Styles was a giant in the industry—still is—and it was crystal clear to Nick that he would continue building his empire.
The next day at work, Nick pulled me aside and asked me out for coffee in his very unique way. “You do realize now I’ve told you all my secrets, I’m not letting you go anywhere.” He was only half joking.
From then on, Nick didn’t leave me alone. I’m not suggesting he was a stalker, he just made it his mission to be in my trajectory as much as possible. We’d go out for work drinks with everyone and he was there, by my side. I arrived at work in the morning and there was a coffee on my desk, that sort of thing.
Once I finally noticed him, I was definitely attracted to him. He was one of those people who appeared nothing out of the ordinary from a distance but, when you got closer, it was like a light switch flicked on. He was tall, a little on the skinny side, with features to match: a long nose, a wide mouth that was a bit too big for his face, and very ordinary light brown hair. But he had charisma. A quieter version of his dad’s, but it was there.
I think he was attracted to me because I was the opposite of him in a lot of ways, both in looks and personality. I’m bubbly and open, he was quieter and more considered. We actually balanced each other well.
I resisted at first. He was the boss’ son and I didn’t think it would be a great career move. But he was persistent, painfully so, and somehow I agreed to join him on his family’s yacht on Boxing Day. Except when I got there it was just the two of us.
I didn’t stand a chance after that and the rest, I guess you could say, is history.
“I remember a much more detailed explanation of that first boat trip with Nick,” Scarlett told everyone.
I felt myself blush. She was right. The boat trip had been more X-rated than I was currently letting on.
“That’s right!” Cate cried, her memory helpfully restored by Scarlett’s comment. “You did it out in the open on the yacht!”
Max choked on his wine and I wasn’t too far behind him. “Thank you for that, Cate. I hadn’t forgotten.”
“Neither have I,” Cate crooned, enjoying reliving my past. “It was so romantic.”
“Romantic?” Scarlett was looking at Cate incredulously. “He’d obviously been planning the moment for a while, but I’m not sure I’d say it was romance that was driving him.”
I agreed with her there. It may not have been a fairytale, but God, it was hot. Being with him on the deck of his yacht like that, where the whole world could see us, was breathtaking. The look in his ice blue eyes is what tipped me over the edge. He hadn’t cared where he was, he just wanted me then and there.
Distracted by my recollections, I eventually noticed everyone looking at me. Except Max, he concentrated hard on his glass of wine.
“It was romantic,” Cate persisted. “Obviously he’d chased her for months and he put everything on the line that day.”
“On a boat where Christa had no chance of escaping? I’d call that entrapment,” Max commented.
I looked up at him. His eyes were unreadable. “It wasn’t entrapment,” I replied softly.
Maddy waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Max doesn’t get it. Nick clearly did.”
Max turned to his sister. “And what exactly don’t I get?”
“That women like to be pursued. I’m a feminist, but it doesn’t mean I don’t like an eligible man setting his sights on me.”
“You’re implying I should attempt to stalk my love interests?”
Cate giggled at Max’s response, while Maddy just rolled her eyes. “The key word is eligible.”
Max shook his head. “This is why men have no hope these days. To one woman, I’m Romeo, to another woman, I’m a stalker. It just depends on her perspective.”
“Whine, whine,” Maddy shot back. “Let’s focus. So things with Nick finally kicked off, what happened next, Christa?”
I pushed the scene of the sleek yacht and Nick’s intense eyes out of my mind. “Well, we started a relationship. Things were good for a long time.”
“What was good about it?” Cate asked.
“We had chemistry and we got along well together. As I’ve already said, we complemented each other in a lot of ways, nothing like when I was with Troy and the intense creative vibe got too much.”
“I actually think it was all the other shit that got in the way,” Scarlett confided, looking past us to watch the boats bobbing gently in Lavender Bay.
I’d never thought about it like that before, but she certainly had a point. “You’re right. The longer we were together, the more I realized the pressure from his dad was too intense. Nick wanted to measure up, but he was constantly fighting an internal battle about whether advertising was what he really wanted to do.”
Max shrugged. “So the guy had daddy issues. That’s not your fault. How did it affect you?”
“He’d get pretty intense. He wasn’t the sort of person to get depressed, but his frustration would come out in other ways. Often his response would be to throw himself into work. Sometimes it seemed like a punishment of sorts.”
“You had an active social life when you were with Nick,” Cate added.
I nodded. “Because his dad was a public figure in the business world, we’d constantly be invited to fundraisers and events and I was always Nick’s plus one.”
It was a lot of fun. Nick told me he found the social aspect of being a Styles exhausting. I think with me by his side it had been more bearable. I’d actually enjoyed the events. I got to meet interesting people I wouldn’t have otherwise met and it appealed to my outgoing nature.
“I think Rob actually had a bit of a crush on you,” Maddy recalled.
I found myself blushing again. Rob Styles, despite his more advanced years, was an appealing man and he’d made no secret of my suitability for his son. I think it also stroked his ego to think that I was working in his empire and, hence, would understand Nick’s commitment to the job.
“He was the one encouraging Nick to make things more serious with Christa,” Scarlett told Max.
He darted a quick look in my direction. “Rob wanted Nick to propose to you?”
I nodded, a deep sadness tugging at me.
