âV
OGEL on line two.'
Gabbi's office was located high in an inner city architectural masterpiece and offered a panoramic view beyond the smoke-tinted glass exterior.
It was a beautiful summer morning, the sky a clear azure, with the sun's rays providing a dappled effect on the harbour. A Manly-bound ferry cleaved a smooth path several kilometres out from the city terminal and vied with small pleasure craft of varying sizes, all of which were eclipsed by a huge tanker heading slowly into port.
With a small degree of reluctance Gabbi turned back to her desk and picked up the receiver to deal with the call.
Five minutes later she replaced it, convinced no woman should have to cross verbal swords with an arrogant, sexist male whose sole purpose in life was to undermine a female contemporary.
Coffee, hot, sweet and strong, seemed like a good idea, and she rose to her feet, intent on fetching it herself rather than have her secretary do it for her. There were several files she needed to check, and she extracted the pertinent folders and laid them on her desk.
The private line beeped, and she reached for the receiver, expecting to hear James's or Benedict's voice. A lesser possibility was Marie andâeven more remoteâMonique.
âGabbi.' The soft, feminine, breathy sound was unmistakable.
âAnnaliese,' she acknowledged with a sinking feeling.
âCare to do lunch?'
Delaying the invitation would do no good at all, and she spared her appointment diary a quick glance. âI can meet you at one.' She named an exclusive restaurant close by. âWill you make the reservation, or shall I?'
âYou do it, Gabbi,' Annaliese replied in a bored drawl. âI have a meeting with my agent. I could be late.'
âI have to be back in my office at two-thirty,' Gabbi warned.
âIn that case, give me ten minutes' grace, then go ahead and order.'
Gabbi replaced the receiver, had her secretary make the necessary reservation, fetched her coffee, then gave work her undivided attention until it was time to freshen up before leaving the building.
The powder-room mirror reflected an elegant image. Soft cream designer-label suit in a lightweight, uncrushable linen mix, and a silk camisole in matching tones. Her French pleat didn't need attention, and she added a touch of powder, a re-application of lipstick, then she was ready.
Ten minutes later Gabbi entered the restaurant foyer where she was greeted warmly by the maître d' and personally escorted to a table. She ordered mineral water and went through the motions of perusing the menu, opting for a Caesar salad with fresh fruit to follow.
Three-quarters of an hour after the appointed time Annaliese joined her in a waft of exclusive perfume. A slinky slither of red silk accentuated her model-slender curves. She was tall, with long slim legs, and her skilfully applied make-up enhanced her exotic features, emphasised by dark hair styled into a sleek bob.
No apology was offered, and Gabbi watched in silence as Annaliese ordered iced water, a garden salad and fresh fruit.
âWhen is your next assignment?'
A feline smile tilted the edges of her red mouth, and the dark eyes turned to liquid chocolate. âSo keen to see me gone?'
âA polite enquiry,' she responded with gentle mockery.
âFollowed by an equally polite query regarding my career?'
Gabbi knew precisely how her stepsister's modelling career was progressing. Monique never failed to relay, in intricate detail, the events monitoring Annaliese's rise and rise on the world's catwalks.
âIt was you who initiated lunch.' She picked up her glass and took a deliberate sip, then replaced it down on the table, her eyes remarkably level as she met those of her stepsister.
Annaliese's gaze narrowed with speculative contemplation. âWe've never been friends.'
In private, the younger girl had proven herself to be a vindictive vixen. âYou worked hard to demolish any bond.'
One shoulder lifted with careless elegance. âI wanted centre stage in our shared family, darling.
Numero uno.'
One long, red-lacquered nail tapped a careless tattoo against the stem of her glass.
Gabbi speared the last portion of cantaloupe on her plate. âSuppose you cut to the chase and explain your purpose?'
Annaliese's eyes held a calculated gleam. âMonique informed me James is becoming increasingly anxious for you to complete the deal.'
The fresh melon was succulent, but it had suddenly lost its taste. âWhich deal are we discussing?'
âThe necessary Stanton-Nicols heir.'
Gabbi's gaze was carefully level as she rested the fork down onto her plate. âYou're way out of line, Annaliese.'
âExperiencing problems, darling?' The barb was intentional.
âOnly with your intense interest in something that is none of your business.'
âIt's
family
business,' Annaliese responded with deliberate emphasis.
Respect for the restaurant's fellow patrons prevented Gabbi from tipping a glass of iced water into her stepsister's lap.
âReally?' Confrontation was the favoured option. âI have difficulty accepting my father would enrol you as messenger in such a personal matter.'
âYou disbelieve me?'
âYes.' The price of bravery might be high. Too high?
âDarling.'
The word held a patronising intonation that implied the antithesis of affection. âThe only difference between daughter and stepdaughter is a legal adoption decree. Something,' she continued after a deliberate silence, âMonique could easily persuade James to initiate.'
Oh, my. Now why didn't that devious plan surprise her? âJames's will is watertight. Monique inherits the principal residence, art and jewellery, plus a generous annuity. Shares in Stanton-Nicols come directly to me.'
One delicate brow arched high. âYou think I don't know that?' She lifted a fork and picked at her salad. âYou've missed the point.'
No, she hadn't. âBenedict.'
Annaliese's eyes assumed an avaricious gleam. âClever of you, darling.'
âYou want to be his mistress.'
Her soft, tinkling laugh held no humour. âHis wife.' âYou aim high.'
âThe top, sweetheart.'
Iced water or hot coffee? Either was at her disposal, and she was sorely tempted to initiate an embarrassing incident. âThere's just one problem. He's already taken.'
âBut so easily freed,' her stepsister purred.
âYou sound very sure.' How was it possible to sound so calm, when inside she was a molten mass of fury?
âA wealthy man wants an exemplary hostess in the lounge and a whore in his bedroom.' Annaliese examined her perfectly lacquered nails, then shot Gabbi a direct look. âI can't imagine
passion
being your forte, or adventure your sexual preference.'
Gabbi didn't blink so much as an eyelash. âI'm a quick study.'
âReally, darling? I wonder why I don't believe you?'
Gabbi summoned the waiter, requested the bill, and signed the credit slip. Then she rose to her feet and slid the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
âShall we agree not to do this again?'
âDarling,' the young model almost purred. âI'm between seasons, and where better to take in some rest and relaxation than one's home city?' Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. âAs family, we're bound to see quite a lot of each other. The social scene is so interesting.'
âAnd you intend being included in every invitation,' Gabbi responded with soft mockery.
âOf course.'
There wasn't a single word she wanted to add. A contradictionâthere were several...not one of which was in the least ladylike, and therefore unutterable in a public arena. It was easier to leave in dignified silence.
Three messages were waiting for her on her return. Two were business-oriented and she dealt with each, then logged the necessary notations into the computer before crossing to the private phone.
There was a strange curling sensation in the pit of her stomach as she waited for Benedict to answer.
âNicols.'
His voice was deep and retained a slight American drawl that seemed more noticeable over the phone. The sound of it caused her pulse to accelerate to a faster beat.
âYou rang while I was out.'
She had a mental image of him easing his lengthy frame in the high-backed leather chair. âHow was lunch?'
Her fingers gripped the receiver more tightly. âIs there anything you don't know?'
âAnnaliese requested your extension number.' He relayed the information with imperturbable calm.
Any excuse to have contact with Benedict; Gabbi silently derided her stepsister.
âYou didn't answer my question.' His voice held a tinge of cynicism and prompted a terse response.
âLunch was fine.' She drew a deep breath. âIs that why you rang?'
âNo. To let you know I won't be home for dinner. A Taiwanese associate wants to invest in property, and has requested I recommend a reputable agent. It would be impolite not to effect the introduction over dinner.'
âVery impolite,' she agreed solemnly. âI won't wait up.'
âI'll take pleasure in waking you,' he mocked gently, ending the call.
A tiny shiver slithered the length of her spine as she recalled numerous occasions when the touch of his lips had woken her from the depths of sleep, and how she'd instinctively welcomed him, luxuriating in the agility of his hands as they traversed a tactile path over the slender curves of her body.
With concentrated effort she replaced the receiver down onto the handset, then focused her attention on work for what remained of the afternoon.
It was almost five-thirty when she left the building, and although traffic was heavy through the inner city it had begun to ease when she reached Rushcutter's Bay, resulting in a relatively clear run to Vaucluse.
The sun's rays were hot, the humidity level high. Too high, Gabbi reflected as she garaged the car and entered the house.
A long, cool drink, followed by a few lengths in the pool, would ease the strain of the day, she decided as she slipped off her jacket and made her way towards the kitchen.
Marie was putting the finishing touches to a cold platter, and her smile was warm as she watched Gabbi extract a glass and cross to the large refrigerator.
âAre you
sure
all you want is salad?'
Gabbi pushed the ice-maker lever, filled the glass with apple juice, then crossed to perch on one of four buffet stools lining the wide servery.
âSure,' Gabbi confirmed as she leaned forward and filched a slice of fresh mango from the tastefully decorated bed of cos lettuce, avocado, nuts, and capsicum. âLovely,' she sighed blissfully.
Marie cast her an affectionate glance. âThere's fresh fruit and
gelato
to follow.'
Gabbi took a long swallow of iced juice, and felt the strain of the day begin to ebb. âI think I'll change and have a swim.' The thought of a few laps in the pool followed by half an hour basking in the warm sunshine held definite appeal. âWhy don't you finish up here? There's no need for you to stay on just to rinse a few plates and stack them in the dishwasher.'
âThanks.' The housekeeper's pleasure was evident, and Gabbi reciprocated with an impish grin.
It wasn't the first evening she'd spent alone, and was unlikely to be the last. âGo,' she instructed. âI'll see you at breakfast in the morning.'
Marie removed her apron and folded it neatly. âSerg and I'll be in the flat, if you need us.'
âI know,' Gabbi said gently, grateful for the older woman's solicitous care.
Minutes later she drained the contents of her glass, then went upstairs to change, discarding her clothes in favour of a black bikini. Out of habit she removed her make-up, applied sunscreen cream, then she caught up a multi-patterned silk sarong and a towel and made her way down to the terraced pool.
Its free-form design was totally enclosed by nonreflective smoke-tinted glass, ensuring total privacy, and there were several loungers and cushioned chairs positioned on the tiled perimeters.
Gabbi dropped the sarong and towel onto a nearby chair, then performed a racing dive into the sparkling water. Seconds later she emerged to the surface, cleared excess moisture from her face, then began the first of several leisurely laps before slipping deftly onto her back to idle aimlessly for a while, enjoying the solitude and the quietness.