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Even better. Clearly, Nick Freeman was her type. Or maybe it was wicked old Hal which brought that excited sparkle into her lovely blue eyes.
‘Now, that’s music to a writer’s ears. Come and have coffee with me and tell me more.’
‘But I haven’t finished your study yet. In fact, I’ve hardly started. When I saw your books on the shelves, I…I—’
‘Forget the study,’ he interrupted, pleased as punch with this development. ‘I’d much rather have my ego stroked. How do you like your coffee?’
‘What? Oh—er—black, with no sugar.’
‘A true coffee-lover. Like me,’ he added with a smile. ‘Now, don’t give me any more objections, Lisa. I’m the boss here.’
She didn’t like taking orders, he could see. Or not finishing her job. But he insisted and she grudgingly complied, sitting opposite him at the table on the terrace, primly sipping her cup of coffee whilst he attempted to draw her out some more.
Jack was careful not to stray from the subject of books. He’d noted that the moment he’d smiled at her, a frosty wariness had crept into her face.
She was widely read, he soon realised. And very intelligent. Clearly, she was wasted as a cleaner.
When she started glancing at her wrist-watch, however, Jack decided he could not wait much longer before making his move. If he let her leave, she might never come back. Next Friday, it would be homely Gail showing up to clean his penthouse and that would be that.
‘I have to go to the annual literary-awards dinner tomorrow night in Sydney,’ he said. ‘One of my books is a finalist in the Golden Gun award for best thriller of the year.’
She put down her cup. ‘Which one?’
‘The Kiss Of Death.’
‘Oh, you’ll win. That was a great book.’
‘Thank you. You’re very kind. Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.’
Jack had had various reactions from women to his asking them out. But not once had a female stared at him the way Lisa Chapman was currently staring at him. As if he’d asked her to climb Mount Everest. In her bare feet.
‘You mean…as your date?’ she choked out.
‘Yes, of course.’
She blinked, then shook her head.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t date.’
Jack could not have been more stunned. Didn’t date? What kind of crazy lifestyle was that for a beautiful young woman whose husband had been dead for five years?
‘What do you mean, you don’t date?’ Jack shot back at her.
Her eyes flashed resentment at him for questioning her. ‘I mean, I don’t date,’ she repeated firmly.
‘Why on earth not?’
She stood up abruptly, her shoulders straightening, her expression turning haughty. ‘I think that’s my private business, don’t you?’
Jack stood up also, his face just as uncompromising. ‘You can’t blame me for being curious. And for being disappointed. I was enjoying your company just now. I thought you were enjoying mine.’
She looked a little flummoxed by this last statement. ‘Well, yes, I was,’ she said, almost as though the concept surprised her.
‘Then come to the dinner with me.’
She hesitated, but then shook her head again, quite vigorously. ‘I’m sorry. I…I can’t.’
Can’t, she’d said. Not won’t.
Can’t suggested there was some other reason why she was saying no. Other than her ridiculous claim that she didn’t date.
The penny suddenly dropped. Maybe she had no one to mind her son. And not enough money to pay for a sitter. Cleaners who only worked during school hours couldn’t earn all that much. Maybe she didn’t have any suitable clothes, either. Despite her very smart appearance today, Jack knew evening wear cost a lot.
‘I’ll pay for a sitter,’ he offered. ‘And buy you a suitable dress, if you don’t have one.’
Her mouth dropped open again, her eyes glittering this time with more anger than shock. ‘I have more than enough money to do both,’ she snapped. ‘For your information, Mr Cassidy, I am not an employee of Clean-in-a-Day. I own the company!’
For the second time that day, Jack was totally gobsmacked. Then pretty angry himself. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so? Why pretend you were a lowly cleaner?’
‘Lowly? What’s lowly about being a cleaner? It’s honest work, with honest pay.’
‘Yes, you’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘No, you shouldn’t. And you shouldn’t have tried to buy me just now. Maybe that’s what men do in your world, but they don’t in mine.’
‘I wasn’t trying to buy you.’
‘Yes, you were,’ she said, crossing her arms and giving him a killer look. ‘Don’t try to weasel your way out of it.’
Jack could feel his level of frustration rising as it hadn’t risen in years. ‘Why don’t you get off your high horse for a moment and stop overreacting! I wasn’t trying to buy you. I was trying to overcome any obstacles which I thought might be in your path. Because I can’t believe that a beautiful young woman like yourself would choose not to date. I presumed it had to be because of some other reason.’
‘Then you’d be wrong. I did choose not to date after my husband died.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense, Lisa. Most young widows marry again. How do you expect to meet anyone if you lock yourself in your house and never go out?’
‘I don’t lock myself in my house. And I have no intention of ever getting married again.’
Jack noted the emphasis on the ever, plus the emotional timbre of her voice. Clearly, this was a subject which touched a nerve.
An old friend of Jack’s—an army widow—had once told him that there were two reasons women decided not to marry again. They either had been so happy and so in love with their husbands they believed no other man would ever compare. Or they had been so miserable, they didn’t want to risk putting their lives into the hands of a rotter a second time.
Jack didn’t know enough about Lisa yet to decide which was her reason.
‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to get married, either, even once. But don’t you get bored? And lonely?’
A frustrated-sounding sigh escaped her lips as she uncrossed her arms. ‘Boredom and loneliness are not the worst things in this world.’
‘They come pretty high on my list.’ Jack had a very low boredom threshold. He liked to keep active when he wasn’t writing. During the winter he skied and went snow-boarding. In the summer he surfed and water-skied. When he was forced indoors by the weather, he worked out. Obsessively.
‘Give me one good reason why you don’t date and we’ll leave it at that.’
She pursed her lips at him, her chin lifting. ‘One good reason,’ she repeated tartly. ‘No trouble. When a single mother goes out with a man these days, he expects more than a goodnight kiss at the door. He wants to come inside and stay the night. No way would I have my son wake up in the morning to some strange man at the breakfast table. If I’m a little lonely sometimes, then that’s the price I have to pay for giving my boy the example of good moral standards.’
Jack was impressed, but not entirely convinced. He feared she protested too much. There was something else here, something she wasn’t admitting to. But he could see she wasn’t about to confide in him at this early stage. If he could somehow persuade her to come out with him tomorrow night, he might eventually uncover some of the mystery behind this intriguing ice princess.
‘I promise I won’t expect more than a goodnight kiss at the door,’ he said.
Now she looked seriously rattled. And tempted. Oh, yes, she was tempted. He could see it in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again after a more lengthy hesitation. ‘My answer’s still no. Now I really must go. I’m running late.’
Jack didn’t try to stop her from leaving. He even reminded her about the money on the counter, which she almost forgot. But he took comfort from her obvious fluster. She’d definitely wanted to say yes to him. Or, if he was strictly honest with himself, she’d wanted to say yes to Nick Freeman.
It didn’t really matter. They were one and the same, as she would find out, when she went to the dinner with him tomorrow night.
Jack had her phone number somewhere. At least, he had the phone number for Clean-in-a-Day. He would ring later this evening, after her boy had gone to bed. By then, Jack would have all his arguments ready to get her to change her mind.
And he would not take no for an answer!
Chapter Five
‘MUM!’ Cory exclaimed from the passenger seat. ‘Where are you going?’
‘What?’
‘You drove straight past our street.’
Lisa sighed. It didn’t surprise her. Since she’d left Jack Cassidy’s place, it had been a struggle to keep her mind on what she was doing. She’d only just remembered to give Gail her money at the school.
Thank heavens Gail hadn’t had time to chat. No way did Lisa want to talk about her day. She still hadn’t come to terms with Jack Cassidy turning out to be Nick Freeman. Or with his asking her out to that awards dinner tomorrow night. Or her actually being tempted to say yes.
As Lisa negotiated the roundabout which would bring her back the way she’d come, she reiterated to herself that she’d done the right thing, saying no to his invitation.
She wasn’t a complete fool. She could read between the lines. Jack Cassidy—alias Nick Freeman—was a ladies’ man. Just like his character, Hal Hunter. Jack’s penthouse had ‘playboy pad’ written all over it, from the indoor pool and spa to the private gym, the home theatre and the simply huge master bedroom, which had every seductive mod con built in. A huge plasma screen dominated the wall opposite the bed. There were dimmer switches on the lights. And a corner spa in the en suite bathroom definitely built for two. Or even three.
Aside from that, she’d noted his off-the-cuff remark that he didn’t want to ever get married, even once. Yet he had to be in his mid-to-late thirties, past the age most men thought about settling down and having a family.
Clearly, his lifestyle of choice was that of swinging bachelor.
Mr Playboy would definitely not settle for a platonic peck at the door. He’d just been saying that to get her to go out with him. No doubt he thought she was an easy target, once he’d found out she was a widow.
Jack wasn’t the first man to ask her out. But he was the first she’d been tempted to say yes to.
Why was that? Lisa asked herself as she drove slowly down her street.
His being her favourite author had to be the main factor. But she suspected it was also because a glamorous night out in Sydney was an exciting prospect for a suburban single mother who hadn’t been anywhere glamorous in years. Up here on the coast, everything was very casual. You never got seriously dressed up for anything. Not even at Christmas.
Lisa loved getting dressed up. Or she had, when Greg had been alive.
Her wanting to say yes to Jack Cassidy’s invitation had nothing to do with her finding him physically attractive, she told herself firmly. She liked slim, elegant-looking men with nice manners and soft blue eyes, not big, macho devils with faces carved out of granite and the coldest grey eyes she’d ever seen.
Lisa supposed Jack’s surprise at her declaration that she didn’t date was understandable. But she thought she’d handled the situation quite well. Of course, she hadn’t been able to tell him the real reason she didn’t date. That would have been embarrassing in the extreme.
Still, the reason she’d given was also true. She hated the way some single mothers went from man to man, most of whom didn’t give a damn about their children. Yet they let these men into their children’s lives; let the poor little mites get attached.
How many single mothers and divorcees actually found a decent fellow to marry? Not many. Once the man got bored with the sex, he moved on. She’d seen it happen amongst her women friends too many times to count, leaving behind broken hearts and sad, mixed-up children.
‘Yes, I definitely did the right thing,’ she muttered under her breath.
Her house came into view, a two-storeyed blond brick building which Lisa was very proud of, but which she’d struggled to keep after Greg died. His insurance payout had not covered the mortgage. But she’d been determined not to lose her home. And she hadn’t, working very hard to make herself and her son financially secure. Even if she’d wanted to date, she hadn’t had the time back then.
Lisa turned into her driveway, Cory jumping out of the car before she’d switched off the engine, bolting along the front path and dropping his school bag on the porch.
‘Can I go and play up at Finn’s place?’ he called out as she climbed out of the car.
‘Not until you’ve changed out of your uniform,’ she told him sternly once she joined him on the porch. ‘And done your homework.’
‘But it’s the weekend,’ he protested. ‘I can do my homework tomorrow.’
‘No, you can’t. You’re going to your grandma’s tomorrow while I go shopping. We both know there won’t be any homework done there, don’t we?’ she added drily as she pulled the house keys from her bag.
‘I’m glad I’m going to Grandma’s,’ Cory said, a belligerent look on his face. ‘She lets me have fun. Not like you.’
‘Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone, young man,’ Lisa snapped, jamming the key into the deadlock and thinking how thankless a job being a mother was. ‘Now, get yourself inside and do as you’re told.’
Five hours later, she was still brooding over Cory’s cheekiness. And simmering with jealousy over his affection for his grandmother.
He didn’t seem to care that his grandmother was the messiest woman on the planet. Always had been. Not only was Jill Chapman allergic to cleaning, but she couldn’t cook to save her soul either. Lisa had grown up eating baked beans on toast for dinner most nights. Her mother’s only talent was as a potter, and even then she didn’t make much money at her craft.
‘Mum,’ Cory said in a wheedling tone, ‘can I stay up and watch a movie with you tonight?’
Lisa glanced up from where she was stacking the dishwasher. Cory was a few feet away in the family room, watching TV.
‘I don’t think so, Cory. You’ve had a long week at school and I don’t want you all tired and grumpy tomorrow. Off to bed now. It’s eight-thirty.’
‘Oh, Mum, please.’
‘Not this time,’ she said firmly.
‘You never let me do anything,’ he grumbled.
‘You can stay up extra late tomorrow night. We’ll go to the video shop after I finish my shopping and get you whatever movie you like. Provided it’s not too violent.’
His blue eyes lit up. ‘You promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘Cool!’
