Counterfeit Love (7 page)

Durban’s brightened, seeing he’d piqued her interest. ‘It’s at the boss’s house on the Peak. Quite an intimate affair, I think.’

Lucy nearly choked. Durban was going to a cocktail party at Yu’s place? Why hadn’t he been talking about that all afternoon, instead of going on about Chinese food? She had to rearrange the date with Byron. She couldn’t miss a chance like this.

But what to wear, what to wear?
She had loads of work clothes, and a busload of gorgeous killer heels, but no actual cocktail dresses. Charlotte, on the other hand, had a whole wardrobe full of them. Lucy hoped she could borrow one and, just to make sure Yu didn’t recognise her from Rusty’s, she would wear her hair up. Charlotte could probably help with that too.
What type of dress works better with my hair up – strapless or backless?
Lucy wondered. Charlotte had a backless emerald green dress that was a total showstopper – unfortunately it wouldn’t work on Lucy because it plunged at the front as well as the back. Lucy didn’t have the cleavage or the confidence to get away with that one.

Durban laughed. ‘Do I understand from the way you’re bouncing up and down that you’re going to come to the party, after all?’

Lucy smiled. ‘Yes, I’d love to. I’ve been trying to organise an interview with Yu for months. It would be amazing to meet him in person.’

Durban slipped his arm around Lucy’s shoulder and squeezed her into his side. ‘Well, aren’t you lucky you met me then, Lucy Yang reporting?’

Lucy’s body stiffened and she mentally struck off the possibility of a strapless or backless dress for Yu’s party. The feeling of Durban’s hand on her bare shoulders was putting her teeth on edge. She wasn’t a fan of her new nickname, either. Lucy fought hard to keep smiling, even though she wanted to hit him. ‘Yes, lucky me.’

Durban winked. ‘My ex-wife used to say that, too.’

‘So, what time’s the party?’ Lucy asked, wriggling free of Durban’s arm and trying to get away from an ex-wife discussion.

‘The party starts at eight. But why don’t you come around to my place at six? We can have a drink first. I’ve just taken delivery of a case of Dom Perignon 1961, thanks to our lovely leggy bell captain, Charlotte. I bought it to bathe in, but
what the heck
, let’s be old fashioned and
drink
a bottle.’ Durban laughed. ‘Just kidding.’

Lucy didn’t see the joke – she was starting to feel ill. She had a sickening visual of Durban in a bath full of champagne. She knew he was just mucking around, but he’d put it out there and now she couldn’t shake it from her mind. Lucy was also disturbed by the way Durban had referred to Charlotte as his
lovely leggy bell captain
– so patronising! But for the sake of meeting Yu, Lucy sucked it up and smiled sweetly.

‘Six might be a bit early. I’ll probably still be in my bikini. How about I come over at seven?’

‘Come over at six in your bikini if you like and we can have a swim first.’

‘Not much of a swimmer, really,’ Lucy said, but Durban didn’t seem to hear. He’d taken an interest in a boat in the marina.

‘Come over here,’ he said, grabbing Lucy’s hand. ‘I want to show you something.’

Lucy had never been a hand holder. In fact, she’d fought against holding hands with her parents from the age of three, according to family folklore. She preferred to keep control of her own extremities and destination. Even holding hands with a boyfriend seemed like giving away too much control. She only consented on special occasions – and Durban was neither her father, nor her boyfriend, and this was definitely not a special occasion. The feel of his palm wrapped around her hand as he dragged her to the other side of the junk was really testing Lucy’s tolerance. She resisted the urge to rip her hand free from him.
Just hold on for a minute
, she thought to herself.
I want to meet Yu tonight.

But even when they reached the other side of the boat he kept hold of her hand. Durban was on about a big yacht that he was buying with the commission he’d made from a property he’d sold. It was something Lucy would normally be keen to hear about, but she couldn’t keep up with the conversation because she was too busy studying Durban’s hand. It was like it belonged to a hobbit – gnarled and hairy, and fat, to match the rest of him. She couldn’t take it any longer. Lucy feigned a sneeze to get away from his grip.

‘Bless you,’ Durban smiled.

He put his hands in his pockets, which was a relief, and then he gazed at Lucy for several seconds, which made her worried again.

‘It’s been so nice getting to know you, Lucy Yang reporting,’ Durban said eventually. The junk was docked up at the marina and the other guests were starting to leave the boat. ‘This is the best time I’ve had since … I split up with my wife. And I think you’ve even cured my seasickness! I normally get quite queasy on a boat, which is a shame because I love sailing.’

‘Yeah, it’s been really great to meet you, too,’ Lucy smiled, edging backwards. ‘Glad I could help with your queasiness.’

Durban stepped towards her. ‘So, see you tonight, then. Do you need a lift home?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘I’m good. Thanks anyway.’

Lucy would have been very happy for a ride home, but not with Durban. She needed time to herself to contact Byron and explain her reason for bailing on the date. She was pretty sure he’d understand the importance of cocktails at Yu’s place, but it still seemed rude to cancel at the last minute – the sooner she had a chance to call him the better. Lucy wondered if they might meet up tomorrow. She had a Sunday off, which wasn’t always the way, so maybe they could head over to Stanley for lunch or even a have a picnic at Big Wave Bay.

‘Farewell, then,’ Durban grinned, shaking Lucy’s hand. She offered her cheek as he leant in for a kiss, but he planted one directly on her lips. Lucy cringed. His lips were wet and clammy: it was a bit like being hit in the mouth with a dead squid.

‘See you tonight. You got my address, right?’

She nodded. Durban had given Lucy his business card and his personal details as soon as they met. ‘See you later.’

With a deep sense of relief, Lucy watched Durban leave the boat. It was like she’d been trapped in a lift for the past five hours and finally had a chance to walk free. She checked the time. She had two hours before she was due at Durban’s.
Two hours of freedom
, she thought to herself, before she’d be locked up again. But it would be worthwhile if she had the chance to get to Yu.

Lucy pulled out her phone to call Byron. She got as far as pulling up his number and then chickened out and decided on a text. It seemed a lot less complicated to just feign sunstroke and suggest catching up tomorrow. But as she started the message, Byron’s lopsided grin came back to her, his serious eyes, his cute accent. She really wanted to see him tonight. And the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to meet him at Vue and the less she wanted to be spending the evening with Durban – even if it did come with an introduction to Yu. Lucy sighed. Yu would have to wait. So, instead of texting Byron, she composed a message to Durban.

Sorry I can’t make it tonight after all.

A touch of sunstroke.

Have fun. Lucy.

She took a long, deep breath, willing herself to press the send button. But then she faltered.
I can’t
, she thought.
I have a career to think about. I have to go to Yu’s place, even if it means putting up with another five hours of Durban – his opinions and his anecdotes about his ex-wife. I have to do it for my career.

She was about to delete the message to Durban when Charlotte appeared beside her, a cheeky grin on her face.

‘Looks like someone made an impression. I’ve just been on the phone to Durban.’

‘What do you mean?’ Lucy asked. ‘He just walked off the boat. Why would he be calling you?’

Charlotte shrugged. ‘I can’t say.’

Lucy frowned. She hated the way Charlotte could be so discreet about her clients. She was happy to share the trivia, but never the important stuff.

‘He asked me to a party at Yu’s house, you know,’ Lucy said.

‘
I know.
He told me. He’s very excited. That’s all I can tell you.’

Lucy started to feel nervous. She knew how much Charlotte loved buying expensive gifts on behalf of clients. And she was beaming right now – a great big, scary smile across her face.

‘I hope I’m not going to find a dozen roses outside our apartment when I get home. You know they make me sneeze.’

Charlotte laughed. ‘Oh please, give me some credit. I don’t work for a florist.’

That made Lucy even more worried. ‘I really don’t want to get home and find anything from Durban.’

‘But of course you do,’ Charlotte insisted.

‘Charlotte, whatever it is that Durban thinks I’m going to love – I’m not.’

‘But you will,’ Charlotte said. ‘I know you will.’

‘Charlotte, no.
Seriously.
I just want to meet Yu. I don’t want anything from Durban.’

Charlotte’s face dropped. ‘But it’s Versace,’ she whispered, and then she quickly put her hand up to cover her mouth.

Lucy’s body went limp. She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’ She couldn’t spend another second with Durban – it was too much to go through just to meet Yu. She looked down at her mobile, reading the text she’d composed to cancel her date with Durban, paused for a moment, and pressed the send button. She wanted to see Byron tonight – not Durban, not a new Versace dress, not even Yu. She was going to see Byron.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Cancelling on Durban.’

‘Why? I promise you’ll love the dress. And Yu will love it, too.’

Lucy shook her head. ‘It’s not about the dress. And for a change – it’s not about Yu either. This is about me.’

‘It’s just a date,’ Lucy said to herself as she rode the lift to Vue.
So why
, she wondered,
do I feel like I’m arriving for an exclusive interview with the Chinese premier and haven’t thought of a single question
? She had knots in her stomach the size of cricket balls and her arms were covered in goosebumps. The sub-zero air-conditioning was partly to blame, but it didn’t explain the pain in her belly.

Lucy’s mind slipped back to her last year of uni, when she was chosen for an internship program at the Olympics. For two weeks she got to be a reporter, covering news conferences, editing packages and, of course, interviewing athletes. One interview that stood out in her mind took place just after Australia won the four by 100-metre women’s swimming relay. The whole venue had gone mad. It had been a massively close race, with the Australian team just beating the favourites. The pool was still buzzing well after the race as the girls headed for the changing rooms at the far end of the pool.

Lucy remembered how nervous she had been as the team approached the media enclosure. As the girls came nearer, Lucy hung over the barricade on the poolside, microphone at the ready, calling out their names. But the team bounced straight past and stopped to talk to a more famous news reporter. She listened as they gushed over their unexpected win – excited, ecstatic even, but still modest. No wonder everyone loved them. Lucy stood by, smiling, even though she’d missed the interview. She was too happy for the team to be sorry for herself.

One of the girls, Cindy Ho, the youngest and least well known, glanced around the crowd, waving to spectators, until her eyes settled on Lucy. Then, quite unexpectedly, she broke away from her teammates and, possibly because she saw Lucy as some kind of ethnically kindred spirit, Ho came to talk to her.

Lucy had been so shocked she immediately forgot all of her carefully prepared questions and became completely tonguetied. It was several seconds before she managed to get it together and ask the swimmer:
How do you feel?
It was hardly an earth-shattering start, but Cindy Ho opened up about what it was like to be representing her country. She was weeping with pride, and then sadness, because she’d just lost her mother to cancer. It was unbelievably emotional. The sound bite was picked up by the world media and used almost ad nauseam until the end of the games.

Lucy was pinning tickets on herself for months after that, but she was scared of the way her mind had seized up right when she’d needed it most. She’d fluked a great interview in spite of her clumsiness. The only thing she’d done right was to have Chinese heritage – and she couldn’t even claim the credit for that.

The same feeling of excited, nervous dread filled Lucy as she prepared to meet Byron. She’d been on plenty of dates and had never even been the slightest bit nervous, yet for some reason tonight was feeling like a catastrophe waiting to happen. What did she have to fear from having a drink with a geologist? She already knew she liked him, but perhaps that was the problem: she was worried that she already liked him a little too much.

Lucy checked her makeup in the mirrored lift wall. Her eyes were smoky and her lips almost nude. She’d always felt her lips were too big for her face and, while she liked red lipstick on other people, she felt like a clown in anything other than a soft pink.

As ready as I’m going to be
, she thought as the lift doors parted on the twenty-fifth floor. She took a deep breath and walked self-consciously towards the terrace, still shivering slightly from the air-conditioning, but as soon as she stepped outside the humid air cloaked her bare shoulders, thawing out her body. The view of the city skyline made her heart pound and distracted from her nerves.
No wonder Charlotte raves about Vue.
The place was stunning – an elegant terrace bar that wrapped around the building, providing a 360-degree view of the city.
Spectacular!
Although, all this beauty apparently came at a price. Charlotte had warned her to go easy on the drinks, as the prices were as steep as the surrounding skyscrapers. Lucy was still marvelling at the sight when she felt someone beside her.