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“I’ll bet it wasn’t in this condition.”
“No, of course not. Which is where we come in.”
“But you said the auction’s a week from Saturday. That hardly gives us much time. Less than two weeks…”
“It’s more than enough time,” Josie insisted. “And it’s not as though we haven’t done several similar jobs before. We have.” Property Presentation Perfect specialized in this kind of makeover.
Which was what Josie had told the real estate agent on Saturday, backing up her claims with PPP’s photographic portfolio of before and after shots. When he’d still looked doubtful, Josie had made him an offer any astute businessman could not refuse.
“If there’s no sale at the upcoming auction, there’s no fee. If the sale goes through, PPP gets a flat fee of five thousand dollars plus ten percent of the amount achieved over and above the reserve.”
Josie wouldn’t normally have offered such generous terms, but PPP was going through a bit of a slump during their second year of business. Which was one of the reasons she’d had their Web site revamped. Competition for the renovation dollar was very high in Sydney at the moment. With the proliferation of do-it-yourself shows on television, a lot of people now did their renovations themselves, rather than call in professionals.
Till business hopefully picked up again, Josie had started canvassing for work the old-fashioned way, calling on real estate agents face-to-face. She’d started with the major agencies on Sydney’s lucrative North Shore, on the assumption that each was sure to have a wealthy client or two off-loading run-down rentals which could do with a facelift. So far, however, she’d only found this one Realtor willing to give PPP a try. But he’d said if the idea worked out, he would be happy to recommend her to other clients and industry contacts.
“We need to make a success of this,” Josie told Kay. “Otherwise, you might have to find a job elsewhere and I’ll have to go back to working for Dad.”
Kay gasped. “Lord. The pressure! Well, it’ll certainly be a challenge,” she added wryly. “This décor is ancient. The tiles in the bathroom are pink and gray, for pity’s sake. As for this kitchen…” She waved a disparaging hand around the dingy and outdated layout. “It’s fit for the scrap heap.”
“Not after you’ve waved your magic wand,” Josie encouraged. The things Kay could achieve with a paintbrush were limitless. “With the right color scheme and furniture, this place will look like a million dollars.”
Kay laughed. “Who’s the optimist now?”
Josie shrugged. “No point in being otherwise. You said as much yourself. So stop being so negative!”
“Aye aye, Captain Courageous. But just remember, we have less than two weeks to achieve this miracle, meaning we have no chance of hiring our usual tradesmen. They’re booked up weeks in advance.”
“No worries,” Josie countered blithely. “We can’t afford too many tradesmen on this occasion, anyway. We’ll have to do most of the work ourselves. Our budget will just stretch to an electrician and a plumber, and the agent said we could use his. They’re on permanent standby to repair all his agency’s rentals. Otherwise, it’s just you and me, baby,” Josie said, linking arms with Kay and grinning down into her co-worker’s pained face.
Kay looked up at her much taller boss and laughed. “Like I said, you certainly weren’t in love with Angus. But speaking of that devil, what have you decided to do about next Saturday night? I mean…you haven’t got anyone to take to your class reunion now, have you?”
THE INSTANT and very intense dismay which claimed Josie’s face made Kay realize her boss had forgotten all about her class reunion. Which showed that underneath her boss’s let’s-get-on-with-life facade this morning, she was really quite upset.
Kay’s heart went out to her. She knew how much Josie had been looking forward to taking Angus to her ten-year class reunion. And she knew the reason why.
The last—and only other time—Josie had gone to a class reunion had been five years back, shortly after her marriage had broken up.
She’d confided to Kay how awful she’d looked—and felt—that night; like a total failure in the face of her other classmates’ seeming successes, especially this one girl, Amber, who’d made a grand entrance at the party on the arm of her communication tycoon fiancé.
Apparently, this Amber had been Josie’s nemesis at school, a snooty-nosed golden-haired rich bitch who never let a chance go by to make Josie feel like an inferior species. Given that Amber was hosting this year’s bash at her harborside mansion—she was now married to said tycoon—Kay could well understand Josie’s distress.
“I don’t suppose you could go alone again, could you?” she said without much hope of that happening. Yet really, Josie shouldn’t think she was a failure without a man on her arm. She ran her own business, for heaven’s sake.
Josie’s face showed horror at the suggestion. “I’d rather be thrown to the lions, because that’s exactly what it would be like. Being thrown to the lions. Or the lioness, to be precise.”
“You mean because of Amber, I suppose, the esteemed hostess of this masochistic do. You know, I used to work with someone like her. She hated my guts, mostly because I was a better interior decorator than she was. I dare say the same thing applies here, Josie. Your society princess felt threatened by you at school. You made her feel inferior, not the other way around. She saw you as competition.”
“Who, me? I can’t see how. Trust me when I say Amber Sinclair didn’t have any competition at school. Besides being the best-looking and most popular girl in our class, she was smart. The girl has brains, Kay. She’s not just some blond bimbo. The only thing I ever beat her at was math. But she beat me in every other subject. I can’t understand why I got up her nose so much. I really can’t.”
“Try looking in the mirror sometime, then.”
“But I wasn’t at all good-looking at school, Kay. Honest. I was gawky back then. Too tall and too thin, with a flat chest and far too big a mouth.” In every way, Josie recalled ruefully.
She’d had a tendency to speak her mind more than the average teenager, a consequence of being the only child of intelligent and loving parents. She’d joined in adult conversations since she was quite young and had been encouraged to have opinions.
Having opinions, however, guaranteed to make you an outsider at the rather old-fashioned all-girls’ school to which she’d won a scholarship. You got along much better if you were a docile little sheep, or the beautiful and brilliant daughter of a billionaire banker who’d donated a million dollars for the new science wing.
“Well, you’ve certainly grown into your looks now, girl,” Kay said, looking her boss up and down. “And your figure.” Josie was that rare creature, a natural beauty who would look good first thing in the morning or straight out of the shower, without any artificial adornment. Her long straight black hair needed no blow-drying to look fabulous. Her olive skin could easily go without makeup, as could her long-lashed, slanting, near-black eyes. And her mouth, which she claimed was too big, would be the envy of every model. Full lips were the in thing these days.
All in all, Josie presented an exotic and very striking package without having to make too much personal effort. She didn’t even exercise to keep her tall, just-curvy-enough body in shape.
Kay, on the other hand, had to work very hard to achieve her petite, fair-haired prettiness.
“My looks are not the issue here,” Josie pointed out wearily. “It’s my going alone.”
An idea came to Kay. “Then don’t go alone.”
Josie eyed her warily. “Why are you smiling at me like that? What are you thinking of, you wicked woman?”
“Something deliciously devious.”
“You’re going to lend me Colin for the night?”
“Do I look insane? Not on your life, girl! It took me thirty years to find my Prince Charming and he’s not for hire. But hiring is the name of the game. You’re going to hire yourself a drop-dead gorgeous male escort!”
“What? You’re not serious.”
“I am indeed. I can even tell you which escort agency to contact and who to ask for.”
“How on earth would you know that kind of information? You’re a happily married woman!”
“Yes, but I have a cousin who isn’t, and she’s the one who gave me the lowdown recently on Gentlemen Partners.”
“Gentlemen Partners! Don’t you mean Gigolo Creeps?”
“That’s what I thought when I first heard about this place. But Cora assured me it’s a very reputable agency with only genuine gentlemen on their books. Most of the escorts are aspiring actors or male models, trying to earn an extra dollar on the side till they make it in their field. Which is why they’re so good-looking. Cora’s used their services more than once.”
Josie laughed. “I’ll bet she has.”
“No, no, you’ve got the wrong idea. Sex is definitely not one of the services provided. Apparently, if there’s even a whiff of scandal, that particular escort—and client—is off their books in a flash.”
“Your cousin still must be a very confident woman to hire various men, even as just escorts.”
“She’s a rally-car driver, so she’s no shrinking violet. She’s also divorced, pushing forty and without a new man in her life as yet. She hates going to functions on her own, so occasionally she hires someone to go with her. Last weekend, she had to go to an industry awards dinner where she knew she’d run into her rally driver ex, so she hired this gorgeous young hunk—she said he was only in his midtwenties—and passed him off as her boy-toy lover. He’s one of the aspiring young actors’ brigade and had no trouble assuming the role. Cora said he enjoyed it. She also said her ex was as jealous as sin and she had the loveliest time.”
Kay was pleased to see that Josie was beginning to be intrigued by the idea. “Clearly this guy would have no trouble pretending to be your boyfriend,” she went on. “His name is Beau Grainger and Cora said he’s so good-looking, it’s almost criminal.”
“I don’t know, Kay. It doesn’t seem right.”
“What’s wrong about it?”
“I’m not sure….”
“It’s the perfect solution to your problem. You go to your class reunion and feel good at the same time.”
“But it’s not a real feel-good feeling. It’s only pretend.”
“So what’s the alternative? Staying at home and feeling sorry for yourself and knowing that have-it-all Amber is out there thinking you didn’t have the guts to face her? She wins. Again. Especially if she calls you later to find out why you didn’t show up.”
“She would do that, too.”
“What pathetic excuse will you use? Not the truth, I’ll bet. You’ll lie. You’ll pretend. Better to pretend my way than your way. Give your pride a break.”
Josie gnawed at her bottom lip as she often did when she was thinking, or worrying. Kay wondered if Josie realized that by the time she stopped, her bottom lip always looked fuller and sexier than ever.
Undoubtedly not. From what Kay could gather, Josie was unaware of the extent of her sex appeal. She never dressed sexily, or used her looks to her advantage. Not in the two years Kay had known her, anyway.
Frankly, the girl seemed to be a bit uptight about sex. She rarely brought the subject up herself, and she had these hard-and-fast rules about her sexual behavior, such as her no-sex-till-the-third-date rule.
That was fine as a rule, and possibly sensible in this day and age. But it did smack of a lack of spontaneity in that area. Kay could never imagine Josie coming on to a guy on a first date, for instance. Not like she had with Colin. Still, she and Colin had fallen in love with each other at first sight. Maybe, if Josie ever fell in love like that, she’d be a different woman.
Still, till then, she needed to loosen up a bit.
Daring to hire a guy as her boyfriend for the night, even on a pretend basis, might be a good start.
Josie kept looking doubtful, however. And finding excuses. “If this Beau Grainger is so good-looking, he’d already be booked up for this Saturday night.”
“Maybe, but there are still plenty of other gorgeous guys on their books. Cora said she was able to go through their photo files on their computer data base and pick whatever one she liked the look of. Sounds kinda kinky, doesn’t it?” Kay added with a cheeky grin. “Pity their services don’t extend to sex, in a way.”
Kay realized immediately that was rather an unwise remark. It seemed Josie’s sense of humor did not extend to the subject of sex.
Some assertiveness was called for, if they were to get over this hurdle then get back to work.
“Go on,” Kay urged. “Call information and find out the agency’s number right now. Then call them and see if the gorgeous Mr. Grainger is free. If so, book him. If not, then arrange to go in and pick out another handsome hunk who is.”
When Josie just stood there, looking blank, Kay took out her own cell phone. Truly, no wonder the girl hadn’t found Mr. Right. She didn’t have enough get-up-and-go in that department. Odd, really. She had plenty of get-up-and-go in every other way.
“I’ll make the inquiries for you,” Kay offered.
It didn’t take her long to get through, or to find out that Beau Grainger had no bookings for the following Saturday night.
“He’s free,” she whispered to Josie. “What do you want to do?”
“Huh?” Josie blinked. She could hardly think. Kay’s comments about choosing a guy off a computer had triggered a fantasy in her head unlike any she’d ever had before. In it, she’d hired a man whose looks she’d fancied, not as an escort, but as a lover. For one night. To do everything she’d always wanted a man to do to her.
For the first time in Josie’s life, love didn’t enter into her fantasy world. Neither did caring or commitment. Physical pleasure was the name of the game, with her partner a perfect stranger, a tall dark-haired stranger, with sexy blue eyes, a Bondi Beach tan and more bedroom know-how than Casanova. He was older than her, of course. Sex was his profession and his client’s satisfaction was his first priority.
“Do you want to hire this Beau Grainger to take you to the reunion, or not?” Kay demanded impatiently.
Josie dragged her mind out of the flames of her fantasy and back into cold hard reality, which was her class reunion next Saturday night, plus whether she should hire, not some gigolo to make love with her every which way, but a handsome hunk to salve her pride.
Not showing up was not a good option. When Brenda had called her just last week to check final numbers for the caterer—Brenda was this year’s class reunion organizer and Amber’s devoted dog-slave at school—Josie had stupidly boasted she’d be coming with her boyfriend.
The only positive thing about this awful situation was that she hadn’t mentioned Angus’s name. Josie supposed she could get away with showing up with any presentable male, as long as he was prepared to pretend he was her boyfriend. Which this Beau Grainger was obviously willing to do, since he’d been happy enough to pretend to be an older woman’s boy-toy lover.
“Josie?” Kay prompted.
Josie squared her shoulders. “Here. Give me the phone,” she said, and held out her hand.
Kay grinned and handed it to her. “Go for it, girl!”
Josie rolled her eyes. It wasn’t a question of going for anything. It was a question of pride.
2
CALLUM MCCLOUD HAD MIXED FEELINGS every time he flew into Sydney. Coming home was a two-edged sword, his pleasure at seeing his kid brother again always tempered by a niggling concern over what Clay might have been up to since his last visit.
Not that there’d been any nasty surprises on his last few visits. The problem was Callum couldn’t forget what had been waiting for him the first couple of times he’d come home after taking on his present job three years back.
Frankly, he would never have accepted an overseas position if he’d imagined that as soon as his back was turned, his brother would leave university to try an acting career. At the time, Clay had already turned twenty-one and was well into his medical degree, seemingly happy and settled.
Callum had been aware that his younger brother had once harbored a secret ambition to be the next Australian male actor to take Hollywood by storm. But he’d thought the boy had grown out of that pie-in-the-sky dream.
Not so, apparently.
To give him some credit, Clay had stuck to his guns, insisting that being a doctor had been their mother’s ambition, not his, and he shouldn’t be held to a deathbed promise that Callum had made, not him.
“You’re my brother, Cal,” Clay had pointed out. “Not my father. Let me make my own mistakes in life. This is what I want to do, so butt out!”
Although believing Clay was making a major mistake, Callum had finally agreed to support his decision, though not to the extent of working his own butt off and paying for everything while Clay went around going for endless and probably futile auditions. Clay admitted he’d already tried for and been rejected by NIDA, which showed what the most highly regarded acting school in Australia thought of his acting ability.
“You can stay on in my house in Glebe, rent-free,” Callum had grudgingly offered. “The house my hard work bought and renovated, might I add. But you’ll have to find a part-time job to pay for your food and clothes.”
Which Clay had.
Callum had gone back overseas that first time, believing Clay was flipping hamburgers in a local fast-food restaurant, only to come home a few months later to find him working as a male model for a famous swimwear company.
Callum wasn’t a narrow-minded man, just a very male one. The thought of his brother walking up and down the catwalk in skin-tight briefs just didn’t sit well on him.
And he’d said so.
“But the money’s good, bro,” Clay countered. “And I’m not about to turn gay, if that’s what you’re worrying about. Trust me on that.”
Callum did trust him on that. He’d been finding scantily-clad girls in his brother’s bedroom since the boy hit puberty. That wasn’t the point. The point was Clay had promised to stay put at the hamburger job, but as soon as Callum’s back was turned, he was off doing something else, something which he obviously thought he had to keep secret from his brother. Why?
“I’ve read about the modeling world,” Callum had commented at the time. “It’s full of drugs.”
“No more than the university,” Clay shot back. “And I didn’t do drugs there. Stop being so paranoid.”
