The Boyfriend Sessions (18 page)

There. It was done.

I watched the email leave my outbox and inhaled a deep breath.

I was officially freelance.

It was Thursday night and it had been a big week. On Monday, Max picked me up from work and we’d had dinner and, shall we say, dessert back at his place. Actually, I’d be lying if I said he’d picked me up from Grounded Marketing. That wasn’t true. The fear of Maddy’s wrath still eating away at me, I’d walked a few blocks and waited for him to pick me up amidst the anonymity of the evening commuters.

Cate had casually asked the next morning where I’d been until so late—the lies had come off my tongue with alarming ease. I’d headed over to Speedstream to work with Jay on my freelance account and then done a late night session at the gym, was my cover story. I’d have to be more careful though. I hadn’t bumped into her when I’d arrived home but I hadn’t been wearing my gym clothes. I’d have to keep some with me, just in case, as it was a good alibi.

I’d had breakfast with Max after boot camp on Tuesday and then when Wednesday had come, we reluctantly agreed that a day off might be a wise decision. Besides, we were both busy with work, especially seeing as he’d signed off my estimate for the development work on his avatars for his gaming project. That had been a small moment of victory for me.

On full payment of that job I’d have enough for a return airfare to Oslo, plus accommodation for up to a month if I was frugal. Maybe coming home wasn’t such a mistake after all, I considered, doing my best to ignore the small pang of regret at the circumstances around my fleeing Paris. I still hadn’t heard from Ben. I thought about him on and off, wondering how he was going, but Max was proving a more immediate distraction.

I’d seen Max again that morning at boot camp, but we’d kept it brief. Tonight I’d be seeing him again for my next group ex-boyfriend counseling session and I was uncomfortable with the idea. Although he’d heard the tragic details of my love life up until this point, now that we were sleeping together, it felt wrong somehow. It was one thing to know some broad information about your lover’s past, but the level of detail my girlfriends required I go into was cause for discomfort.

I’d casually brought it up with Max that morning and he’d huffed and puffed around it, saying it was fine, but something in his expression told me he was going to find it harder now too. We’d finally agreed that it might look strange if he suddenly stopped coming. For now, he would remain part of the group.

I closed down my computer and reflected once again that I was now officially a free agent. Freeing and terrifying in equal measure. I’d called my old boss that morning to explain my decision and he’d requested I send through an official letter of resignation. The task now done, my hands shook as I picked up my bags and headed for Maddy’s office.

She stood behind her desk and appeared to be in the process of gathering her things. She looked up at me. “Ready?”

“Good to go.”

“Great.” She reached under her desk for her latest matching handbag and strode toward me.

“Oh, and it’s official. I just resigned from Shout.”

She stopped mid-stride as she processed this information. After a second she broke out into a wide, sunny smile. “Go Christa!” She closed the rest of the distance between us and gave me a short, hard hug. “So, when should I get your contract ready?”

I must have stiffened, because she pulled back and looked at me seriously. “I was joking. Sort of. I’m thrilled you’re going freelance, but just say the word and I’ll have you on a permanent basis.”

Not if you knew I was sleeping with your brother,
I thought before I could stop myself. I plastered a smile onto my face. “You know I will. I’m just going to enjoy this sense of freedom for a while, as terrifying as it seems.”

She grabbed my hand and we walked in the direction of the lifts. “Oh, you’ll be fine. You have a lot of contacts in the industry and from what I understand, Max is paying you very well for the job you’re doing for him.”

I shot an alarmed look in her direction as we waited for the lifts to arrive at the 17th floor. “I hope he’s not paying me more than he should?”

It had never occurred to me that he would do such a thing and I felt myself bristle. I thought I’d quoted fairly on the job and had done my best to calculate the number of hours I thought the project was going to take me. If he’d thought my estimate was on the expensive side, then he should have said something. I wasn’t a charity case and I wanted to be rewarded based on my skill, not because he thought I needed a helping hand.

Maddy rolled her eyes at me, knowing me too well. “Don’t be stupid. Forget I said anything.” She moved into the lift quickly, pulling her smartphone from her bag as she did so.

I stared at her statuesque back and followed her in. My mind swimming, I watched as the lift methodically counted down the floors toward the ground. It was all getting so complicated. In a matter of weeks since returning to the country, I had somehow come to be in both Maddy and Max’s employ. Maddy was my best friend. Max was now my lover. And Maddy didn’t know.

I could feel the cool fingers of dread creeping up my spine as I contemplated the situation, something I’d tried very hard not to do. On the positive side, I was actually in a very happy place. I’d left a job I’d grown to loathe and, thanks to Maddy, had gained the confidence to try the freelance life for a while. Max had an amazing freelance job for me to work on and it was the sort of project that allowed me to get my creative juices flowing and add some very interesting work to my portfolio.

I’d honestly had absolutely no intention of sleeping with Max. It had just kind of happened. It wasn’t entirely my fault either. Clearly my girlfriends had made a tremendous lapse in judgment in thinking that Max was ‘safe.’ They should know me better than that by now, surely?

“Come on.” Maddy threw her smartphone back into her handbag as the lift doors opened at the ground floor, recalling me from my reverie.

I hurried to catch up, the rhythmic click of her heels echoing in the foyer like fingers tapping impatiently. We headed out into the now humid evening, the air surrounding us like a blanket. My heart skipped a beat as I made out the dark-haired man driving the navy Porsche toward us.

Bloody Spencers. What were they doing to me?

*

“So I told him the only way he’d ever get my clothes off in the gallery was if it were my artwork hanging on his walls.” Scarlett blew a cloud of swirling smoke into the early evening breeze as we stood on our balcony.

“You didn’t?” Cate exclaimed.

“Damn right. It’s bloody good work. He knows that, I know that. I also know he’d like nothing more than to get me naked in the storeroom.”

Max cleared his throat quietly and gave me a barely noticeable look of amusement. It must be enjoyable for him, I realized, hanging around a bunch of women talking so frankly. “So what did he say?” I wanted to know.

“He said he’d think about it,” Scarlett replied.

Maddy studied our friend, her long dark hair blowing in the breeze. “Which one? Getting you naked or displaying your work?”

Cate giggled and Scarlett gave us all a measured look. “Oh, he’ll be thinking about both quite seriously, don’t you worry.”

I didn’t doubt that. Anyone who didn’t know Scarlett might assume the situation she was outlining was terribly inappropriate. Using sex to sell some of her work. But she was right, her work was damn good, and knowing Scarlett, from what she’d already told us about the gallery owner, she would have slept with him anyway. It was a win-win situation.

She stubbed her cigarette out on the railing and flicked it off the balcony, much to Maddy’s disgust, then turned and clapped her hands. “So, which of Christa’s fabulous ex-boyfriends shall we be revisiting tonight?”

Maddy grinned. “Madcap Michael.”

“One of my favorites,” replied Scarlett.

“Back to nicknames?” Max commented as we all filed inside to the lounge area.

Cate nodded. “Mmm, after Nick, Michael was a welcome relief.”

“Another rebound thing?” he asked.

“No,” I said, indignantly at the same time as all three of my girlfriends told him yes. “It was not! I was with him for eighteen months.”

“Just because you were with him for eighteen months does not a serious relationship make,” Maddy clarified.

“Eighteen months is a long time,” I persisted and didn’t miss the shared look between Maddy and Max, both of whom had had long term relationships of six years or more. “Alright,” I conceded, “it was a long time for a guy like Michael.”

“And a girl like Christa,” Cate gently reminded me.

Ouch. “That’s not fair. I went out with Nick for two years, Troy for three—you’re making me out to sound like a commitment-phobe,” I complained. And what was Max going to think? That he was just the next in a long line of boyfriends?

I fell into the lounge chair and folded my arms sullenly. I watched as Max sat in the armchair across the coffee table from me, avoiding my eyes. Having him there was a really bad idea, I realized. It was still very early days of our relationship, if that’s what we were calling it, and we were yet to discuss our feelings. And now there I was being forced to discuss my feelings for boyfriends that were long gone. Awkward.

“Right,” Maddy said, now that we were all settled in our seats. “Christa first met Michael on a night out after work one Friday.”

She was right, I hadn’t thought about that night in ages. My apartment started to fade around the edges as I recalled the night in question.

It was noisy and chaotic. There was some sort of sporting event on from memory. World Cup maybe? So the bar was packed and the atmosphere was jovial, with more than a fair share of people having had more than a few.

I was one of them. It was my first week at Shout, after I’d left Nick’s dad’s company and my spirits were low. I remember being relieved to get away from Nick, but upon starting at Shout, realized how much I’d actually enjoyed my job with Styles, Whaite & Sanders. I was angry then. Angry that my failed relationship had affected my career and forced me to make decisions I wouldn’t have had to otherwise.

I was with Scarlett and Maddy, and they’d soon had enough of the adrenalin-pumped atmosphere. The deafening roars of soccer lovers filled the space like crashing waves with each kick in our favor. I wasn’t a soccer fan in the least, but the last place I wanted to be that night was at home mulling over my failed relationship and my new job, which I wasn’t certain I particularly liked.

So when Michael—one of the faceless rowdy men in the crowd—accidentally threw half a glass of beer on me in a fit of cheering, it pretty much cemented my foul mood. I tried to stalk off to the bathroom, but he grabbed my arm and apologized profusely. He offered to buy me another drink. Then before I knew what was happening, he relocated us to a corner of the room with two fresh drinks and energetically took me through the finer points of the game.

For a non-soccer fan, that might be considered a nightmare, but it was the most fun I’d had in a long time. He had me laughing until my sides hurt. When I woke the next morning it wasn’t so much the dull pain in my head from the hangover begging for my attention, it was my overworked stomach muscles from all the laughter.

He wasn’t the sort of guy you’d notice. Just an average man in his late twenties, a little on the stocky side with light brown hair and a hint of auburn in it. Once he had you laughing, you’d suddenly see his unusual eyes, which reminded me of a tiger—a warm, fiery brown.

He was in sales for a big wine company and was very good at his job. I know this because he talked me into going out with him, again and again, despite my intense lack of desire to start another relationship at that point. He was smooth without being slick, his humor his greatest asset in getting people on side.

So, before I knew it, I was in a relationship with Michael. He was the life of the party and very quickly became my lifeline. He made me laugh and helped me to enjoy life again. Simply, he got my mind off the Nick saga.

It sounded like a very weak excuse to be in a relationship for eighteen months and my face must have said as much.

“You two were great friends,” Cate volunteered.

That was definitely true. We’d gotten along really well and could happily spend all our time together without so much as a fight or a harsh word. On the surface, it appeared to be a brilliant match.

“Chemistry?” Scarlett asked.

“It was different to the others,” I admitted. “He was definitely attracted to me, but I wouldn’t say he set my world alight.” I was careful not to look at Max. “Would it sound stupid to say that he was safe? There was something very comforting about being with him.”

“Not at all,” Cate agreed. “I remember he seemed to ground you at a time when you really needed it.”

I sighed, then scowled. “Looking back now, I should have had the strength to ground myself.”

“That’s a little harsh and he was a decent guy,” Maddy countered.

I noticed Max was finally looking me in the eye across the table. “How did it end?”

“It just kind of fizzled out of its own accord. For about a year we had a fantastic time together, but it was only skin deep. Then he got a promotion interstate and he decided to take it. We ended it on good terms.”

“He was still in love with someone else,” Cate piped up.

It was true. I nodded. “He was such a good guy. It took me a while to realize that beneath the good guy facade and his sales talk, he’d been hurt quite deeply. He’d been with his high school sweetheart for about eight years when she ended it. Claimed she couldn’t marry him because she’d only ever been with one guy and never had a chance to figure out who she was.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Please. She just wanted to sleep with other men.”

We all found ourselves grinning in amusement. “From what he’d said, he’d only ever seen himself settling down with her and starting a family and she pulled the rug out from under him.”