Breaking the Bro Code (13 page)

‘If it’s scary then it means you care about him.’

‘I do.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Was it possible that she’d loved Col all along and never allowed herself to see it? She remembered when he first walked into her studio a week ago. She’d wanted to scream at him for leaving her; she’d been appalled at how he could turn up without warning. But there had also been a tiny bubble in her chest, a delicate construct of hope and relief that had threatened to burst at the slightest provocation.

Except he hadn’t burst it. He’d drawn her to him over and over, showing her that she could be intimate, showing her that she could help others, that she could talk about the past. No one else had ever been able to get so close, nor had anyone else continued to try after her constant rejection. He matched her in stubbornness and strength of will, but he also knew when to push her, when to hold her, when to comfort her.

‘You know the answer to whether or not you love him, Ellie.’ Darlene reached out and grabbed her daughter’s hand, squeezing it tight. ‘I want you to be happy. You deserve it—you’ve earned it for all you’ve done for our family.’

‘I love you, Mum.’ Her voice shook. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d told anyone that she loved them—even her mother.

‘I love you too.’

After Darlene left, Elise sat at the kitchen table as if she didn’t have the strength left to move. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, but when she looked up the sun was starting to dip.

Only then did the enormity of her situation hit her. Col would be leaving for good. He was flying out tomorrow and she’d hurt him good enough that he was unlikely to come back for seconds...or thirds as the case might be. Hell, if his father hadn’t died he might not have come back
this
time.

Her stomach churned. Never again would she wake up to his blue eyes, never again would she lose herself in his kiss, under the deft touch of his hands. But it was best for them both.

She loved him. When it’d happened she couldn’t exactly pinpoint, but that strange churning sensation in her stomach that occurred whenever he was near finally had a name. She loved him and she’d let him go because she couldn’t bear the thought of him waking up one morning in the future only to realise how broken she was.

It might happen after a fight, where he expected to talk about it. It could happen after a loss, where she’d be expected to show her sadness or vulnerability. What if they one day had a child and she was incapable of showing the love needed to nurture a young soul into life?

Her inadequacy was insurmountable; it filled her up and swallowed her feelings, hardening her to stone. He didn’t deserve to end up with someone like her; he deserved better—someone who could love with all the unbridled passion and fury of a normal person.

Her eyes prickled and she ground her fists into them, surprised when they came away slicked with moisture. A fat tear fell onto her cheek and another followed, creating a path down to her jaw.

She rushed to the bathroom, shocked to see her face with eyes red-rimmed and cheeks glistening. She hadn’t even cried at her father’s funeral. She’d not shed a single tear, but now it was as if every tear she’d ever saved up was ready to be used. They spilled forth, unstoppable.

Her chest heaved with each sob, grief squeezing, pressing, aching within her. Suddenly the laughter came. It bubbled up until the tinkling sound filled the air. She was actually crying, something she had tried to do for so many years just to see if she could. But no matter how many times she watched
The Notebook
,
Beaches
or
Steel Magnolias
she could never even well up, let alone create a tear.

But the thought of letting Col go was enough to finally push her to the edge. In the past week he’d pushed her more than any other person, definitely more than the men she dated who were quick to label her faults and file her under ‘too much effort’. And he’d certainly pushed her more than her parents.

Could she really give up the chance that maybe he could help her experience the full gamut of emotion?

He’d be arriving at the hotel soon and she had until tomorrow morning to convince him she’d been wrong. Scrap that—she had all night to
show
him.

TWELVE

After the funeral
Col stood in the dimming sunlight. The air was still heavy as a blanket over him. He sweltered in his suit, but he refused to loosen his tie. His father’s girlfriend and a handful of scruffy-looking men in their fifties had been the only guests present. There were less than ten people total who’d shown up to mourn the life of Arthur Hill.
Less than ten too many.

The already lean crowd thinned until it was just Col and the man who’d conducted the simple, non-religious service. They didn’t speak, but instead stood next to one another lost in their own thoughts.

‘Excuse me?’

A voice captured his attention and he turned to see the journalist from the conference with her camera man approaching. What the hell were they doing here?

‘I’m Marina Shepard and I was wondering if I can ask you a few questions?’ Her question posed as a statement, an introduction to the questions she was about to ask without waiting for permission.

‘I don’t do interviews,’ Col said sharply. ‘Particularly not at funerals.’

The journalist ignored him and stuck her recorder in Col’s face. ‘Is it true that you’re the son of Arthur Hill?’

‘No comment.’

‘I understand Arthur was convicted of insurance fraud several years ago. How do you think that information would affect your shareholders?’

‘I said,
no comment
.’ His voice was a low, threatening growl.

He forced himself to stare straight ahead, fearing what he might do if he were to make eye contact with her.

‘There’s no need to be hostile,’ she said, her tone indicating she enjoyed this part of her job very much. ‘The people deserve to know the truth.’

‘About a man who may or may not be related to some unknown person who died? How on earth is that something the people need to know?’

‘I think you need to leave.’ The man who’d conducted his father’s service stepped in between them. ‘This is very inappropriate.’

‘I’m sure the shareholders of Hillam Technologies would like to understand the foundations on which the company was built. Arthur Hill was convicted of many crimes, as I’m sure you are aware, and one of those was insurance fraud. Don’t you think the shareholders deserve to know that?’

Col turned and walked towards his car, his long legs crossing the plush green grass easily. But she would not be deterred.

‘Mr Hillam!’ The journalist was on his heels. ‘Isn’t that why you changed your name so no one would know the connection?’

Col stopped, took a breath and whirled around. ‘I
am
Arthur Hill’s son, but I became emancipated the second I could. Therefore, I was not legally tied to him at the time of the fraud nor at the time I started my company. None of the investigations at the time connected me or my business to him in any way. I do not support illegal activity. Now, I’ll ask that you please leave me alone. I have no further comments.’

The wind seemed to run out of the journalist’s sails; it was clearly not the emotional reaction she was hoping for.

Col stalked to his car and left the cemetery in a hurry. He drove through the city like a man possessed, the desire to flee growing stronger by the minute. He had to get out. Out of Australia, out of the mess he’d created with Elise, out of his own head. He left his car in the valet area of the hotel and went straight to his room to shower, change and pack.

The methodical actions of packing a suitcase calmed some of the prickling, nervous energy that flowed through him. But the need to escape was all consuming.

He’d continued to push Elise when he knew that she didn’t have more to give, when she’d been nothing but transparent about the level of her feelings towards him. Why couldn’t he accept that she didn’t love him the way he loved her?

He took a deep breath and continued to fold and stack his clothing in the open suitcase on his hotel bed. He would be home soon and then he could put this trip far behind him. He’d throw himself into his work, leveraging the success of his talk at the conference to find new investors and to build the next big thing. Maybe he’d even head over to Singapore or Hong Kong for a bit.

His work would save him, as it always had. He’d stay in his office till late each night, working himself hard enough to guarantee an exhausted slumber. The weekends were tough, but he was rich and that would allow him to easily find company on the odd occasions that he wanted it. Plus he had Pete, his one true friend.

Col tried not to dwell on what a pathetic existence he led, one devoid of feeling and emotion. But he would not put himself in the path of rejection any more. Too many people had made it clear he couldn’t be loved...that he wasn’t quite good enough no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t need to be told again.

A knock at his hotel-room door stopped the downward spiral of his thoughts. He was getting out of here, and that was that. He rolled the suitcase to the living area and opened the door.

‘Would you like a turndown service, sir?’ the young girl in the hotel uniform asked with a smile.

‘I’ll be checking out now,’ Col replied, mustering a smile and walking past her to the elevator.

The reception desk processed his checkout quickly and offered to call the airport to see about changing his flight to LA to an earlier departure.

‘Why don’t you grab a drink in the bar and I’ll send someone over with your new flight details? Would you like us to book you a driver as well?’ The elegant woman behind the desk gestured to the cosy champagne bar on the other side of their huge reception area.

‘Thank you. I have a rental car that needs to go back to the airport anyway. I’ll drive myself.’

The last thing he wanted was to have nothing to do with his hands for the forty-five-plus minutes it would take to get from Southbank to Tullamarine at this time of evening. He left his suitcase with the staff and wandered over to the bar. It was the epitome of luxury hotel bars, somehow quiet despite being adjacent to the reception area and tastefully decorated in muted shades of gold, cream and chocolate.

Col ordered a gin and tonic and took a seat in the back, away from the young girls at the bar wearing too flashy dresses and OTT make-up who eyed him as he walked past. No other girl would even enter his mind until he’d got enough distance from Elise Johnson...like a minimum of two oceans’ distance.

‘Your gin and tonic, sir.’ The waiter placed the heavy crystal glass down in front of him and Col raised it immediately to his lips.

Just one drink
. Never more than one when he was feeling frustrated. The cold liquid slid down his throat, relaxing him. He let out a long breath and loosened his shoulders before pulling out an envelope from his jacket pocket.

He’d found an old photo of his mother at his father’s house when he was cleaning out the closet. Col had only had the rarest of opportunities growing up to know what his mother looked like; his father had burned a lot of their old pictures in a drunken rage one night when Col had asked too many questions. His mother was a mystery to him, but here she stood with her long dark hair and light blue eyes the same as his. She was smiling. She looked...happy.

He traced the picture with his fingertip, strangely calmed by the image of her. She looked exactly as he’d imagined: warm and loving, smiling always. If only she hadn’t died giving birth to him, how different his life could have been.

He wondered for a moment what it might have been like to have been loved as a child. The sad thing was he couldn’t even picture it. Col reached for his glass and took a sip. What would his life have looked like if his mother had lived?

Tension curled his hands into fists and he drew a deep breath to slow the thudding of his heart. All his life he’d shied away from situations where he could be rejected because of the way he was raised...except when it came to Elise. There was something deep within him that wouldn’t let up when it came to her, something that wouldn’t stop pushing him out of his comfort zone.

He swallowed. They both bore the scars of their parents’ actions, and though he would have given anything to have Elise’s life growing up he knew that it was far from perfect.

Yet she’d helped him to get out on that stage and do something that he knew he couldn’t have done without her. She did care for him, that was obvious...but could she care for him in the way he wanted? Not as a friend, not even as a lover but as someone to whom she was wholly committed. He’d had enough of the ‘sex only’ arrangement; he wanted more and he wouldn’t accept anything less.

But could he put himself out there one more time? Could he face her rejection again?

The bar around him grew louder as he pondered his thoughts. He could see the woman who’d helped him at Concierge approaching him. It was too late; he’d be leaving soon. Perhaps it was for the best.

He was about to get out of his chair and greet the woman as a flash of movement caught his attention. A blonde woman was jogging through the foyer, make-up streaked all over her face.

Ellie?

* * *

Elise jogged through the underground car park to the entertainment complex where Col’s hotel was located. Her sneakers slapped against the concrete floor and she was turning heads as she sped by...but not in a good way. It seemed that once the crying had started it was quite difficult to make it stop. And since she’d never required waterproof mascara before she now had panda-like black smudges around her eyes.

Appearance was a thing she never cared about a great deal; so long as her body was in good shape for her dancing she hadn’t bothered with vanity. But now she was feeling self-conscious. Not because her make-up was smudged, not because she looked like a crazy madwoman, but because she was wearing her feelings for the whole world to see.

It would be worth it. When she showed Col how much she’d changed, this strange, fearful energy buzzing inside her would be worth it.

She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator to take her out of the car park. Each moment felt as if it increased the risk of him slipping away. That, or the risk of losing her nerve.

The doors of the elevator pinged and she stepped into the hotel’s foyer. There were people everywhere, suitcases dragging alongside the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor. The air was filled with laughter, perfume and the excitement of a balmy summer’s eve.

Elise contemplated asking Reception to call ahead, but she figured it would be easier to surprise Col. Maybe he would have less opportunity to think about the way she’d treated him. If only she could get someone to buzz her up to the right level.

She jogged to the hotel elevators and looked around. A lady in a hotel uniform was waiting by the far end.

‘Excuse me,’ Elise said as she rushed over. ‘I’ve left my key in my room. I need to get up to level—’

‘You’ll need to go to the concierge desk, miss. Even if I get you to the right floor, you won’t get in your room without a key. You need to—

‘My husband’s in the room. I just need to get up to the right floor.’

‘You’ll need to go to the concierge desk.’ The older woman looked her up and down. ‘They can issue a replacement key.’

‘Please.’ Elise wrung her hands. ‘I don’t want people to see me like this.’

Her voice was steady out of years of practice, but the woman’s face softened. ‘Just this once. Next time you use the concierge desk, okay?’

‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘Thank you so much.’

The elevator opened and they stepped in. The woman swiped her access card and Elise pushed the button for the top floor. As they sped up the floor numbers ticked over quickly and she held her breath.

The penthouse floor was quiet; the silence almost made Elise turn back. Silence meant thinking, and at this point that was not a very good idea. She made it to Col’s door and knocked. Silence.

‘Col, it’s me. I’m sorry.’ She knocked again.

The door flew open and Elise was met with the wary face of a hotel staffer. ‘Is this your room?’

‘No, I ugh...’ She looked into the room and saw the pile of sheets and towels on the floor. ‘I’m looking for the man who was staying in this room.’

‘He’s checked out.’ She smiled in apology.

‘When?’

She shrugged and looked at her watch. ‘Twenty minutes ago...maybe half an hour.’

He’d be halfway to the airport by now. How would she be able to catch him? She turned, looking down the long corridor with its stylish gold trimmings and gentle light. It created a fantasy, one where people’s lives were elegant and perfect and kept together.

A hard ball knotted in her stomach. She’d stuffed things up with Col on so many occasions that there would be no way he’d accept her apology. Why should he? Regret filtered through her, pulling on her limbs until it felt hard to take each step. She walked slowly back to the elevator.

What would she do now? She pushed the call button and leant her back against the wall between two elevators. How could she go back to her former life when she’d finally started to understand what it meant to feel something deep and terrifying and real for another person? She would never find that again. Col was the only man who’d been able to tap into that side of her. The elevator pinged and she turned as the doors slid open.

‘Going down?’ A deep, male voice caught her attention.

Elise looked up, eyes blurred with tears. ‘I thought you’d checked out.’

‘I have.’ Col stepped back to let her into the elevator.

The doors slid closed behind her. ‘Then why are you here?’

‘I saw you in the lobby—at least I thought it was you.’ He sighed. ‘I saw a blonde woman running like the devil himself was chasing her, and she had black make-up all over her face. Somehow I knew it was you under all that muck.’

‘You did?’ Her voice wavered, the hope she’d tried her whole life to supress simmering close to the surface. Too close.

‘What did you want to talk about?’

She pressed her palm against the elevator emergency stop button and the cabin slowed to a halt. ‘I’ve been doing some thinking and I wanted to share something with you.’

‘You better hope that button doesn’t set off any alarms.’ He sounded aloof, but the curiosity in his eyes was unmistakable.