Scandals And Secrets

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Celeste had always suspected Irene had fed him a whole lot of lies about her after she’d gone back to school, lies that had made her look very bad. Even so, Byron had been very ready to believe those lies, had been very quick to write her a ‘dear John’ letter, dismissing their affair as a temporary infatuation which he deeply regretted. He’d stated quite coldly that he wanted nothing to do with her ever again.

Celeste had been crushed by this brutal and rather confusing rejection, then shattered when a few short months later he’d married Irene.

Recalling the distress she had felt at that time hardened Celeste’s heart again. No, she decided staunchly, and clenched her teeth down hard in her jaw. Byron’s fierce antagonism towards her just now was no proof of a past love. He was simply being the same hypocritical bastard he’d always been, pretending to be holier-than-thou, judging her on standards that he himself didn’t live up to. He’d lied when he’d told her he loved her back then. Lied for the sole purpose of possessing her body. and when he’d had his fill and she’d gone back to school, he’d callously dumped her and moved on to Irene, who he’d obviously thought would bring him Campbell Jewels as well as her beautiful and undoubtedly willing body.

Men like Byron didn’t love women, Celeste accepted with a bitter cynicism. They loved sex and money and success. They loved power and position in the community. Nothing was more important to Byron than his social standing, his so-called good name. Why else would he spend so much time and money working for charity? Why else would he have taken that degenerate boy off the streets and adopted him, for heaven’s sake?

Because he wanted everyone to look up to him and say what a great man he was. How generous and good. How bloody wonderful!

But that shining reputation of his had been won at a cost. She’d been the one to pay. Yet he had the hide to tear strips off her character, as well as the gall to claim he could have her as easily as he could snap his fingers.

Like hell, she thought. Like bloody hell! There was no way she would ever let him touch her again. Never in a million years!

CHAPTER FOUR

GEMMA’S hand trembled as she dialled. It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do but she had to do it. Nathan would be leaving soon to go to the airport to pick her up, and even she didn’t have the heart callously to let him worry when she didn’t get off that plane.

The telephone in their apartment rang and rang and rang, but he didn’t answer. It had not occurred to her that Nathan might not be home, that he might go straight from rehearsals at the theatre to Mascot Airport. But now it did, and she groaned her dismay. God, she just wasn’t thinking straight.

With her heart thudding madly in her chest, she hung up hurriedly and looked up the theatre number in the telephone book. This time, someone answered immediately, and luckily Nathan was soon located. He came on the line, sounding worried.

‘Gemma? What’s wrong, darling? Did you miss the flight?’

‘No, Nathan,’ she replied, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘I didn’t miss the flight.’

‘Then where are you ringing from? You’re supposed to be in the air. Oh, I see. The flight’s been delayed. Never mind, darling. These things happen. So when will you be arriving?’

The two ‘darlings’ had really hurt, bringing the sense of outrage she needed. ‘I won’t be arriving, Nathan. I’m not coming home.’

‘Not coming home?’ he repeated in a stunned, almost blank tone.

‘That’s right. You told me once that if I ever wanted out of our marriage I was to say so up-front.’ She paused long enough to drag in a much needed breath. ‘I want out of our marriage, Nathan. My solicitor will be in touch.’

‘Wait!’ he cried, seemingly aware that she was about to hang up. ‘You...you can’t just leave me like this, Gemma. You must give me a reason. God-dammit, I have a right to know the reason!’ he demanded, clearly shaken.

‘The reason? The reason is you’re a cheat and a liar. I’m sure it won’t take too much intelligence to work out what I’m talking about. You took me for a fool, Nathan. And I’m not. I’m not...’ Her voice broke and she struggled for control. ‘Oh, God, how could you? I didn’t deserve that. I...I...’ She broke off and forcibly pulled herself together. ‘Goodbye, Nathan. Don’t bother trotting out to Lightning Ridge to find me. I’m not there.’

She hung up, then sank down on the side of the hotel bed, looking and feeling utterly drained. No tears came. She was all out of tears.

But dear God, whatever was she going to do? Where was she going to go?

Her overnight stay in the old hotel and many hours of thinking had provided no solutions except that she was going to divorce Nathan. No doubt some fancy solicitor could drive a hard bargain for her when it came to a financial settlement, but she automatically shrank from that and from what people would say about her. They’d only been married a few months, after all. She also shrank from having to tell Nathan’s family the reason for her leaving him—that he’d been cheating on her with his ex-wife.

Not that they would necessarily believe her. Nathan would deny it, of course, and so would Lenore. Byron, Gemma realised, would be loath to believe such a thing of his golden-haired boy. Nathan could do no wrong in his eyes, being supposedly as old-fashioned in his moral principles as his adopted father. Ava was the only person Gemma could think of who would be on her side, but how could she put brother against sister? It wasn’t right.

No, she would have to strike out on her own. She still had the money Byron had paid her as a reward for bringing back the Heart of Fire. That would cover her expenses for a while. And she could probably get a job easily enough with her mastery of oral Japanese.

Going back to work at Whitmore’s was not an option. Even if Byron didn’t fire her, Nathan would descend upon her there like an avenging angel, demanding further explanations when doing his best to whitewash his behaviour. He might even throw himself on her mercy and beg her forgiveness. She could not have borne that.

What she needed, more than anything, was to disappear for a while, out of reach of Nathan and any private detective he might hire to find her. Which meant not staying in any hotel, nor going to real estate agents nor applying for a job. That would leave a trail any decent detective would easily pick up on.

So where could she go?

Damian’s offer, which had been hovering at the back of her mind all along, but which she had previously dismissed, jumped to the fore. Why not? she rationalised. He was in a position to help her. He had the money and the connections. He’d even promised her a job if she ever wanted one. Campbell Jewels had stores in other states. Maybe she could move to Brisbane or to Melbourne: get herself well away from Sydney and Nathan.

At three in the afternoon, Damian would probably be in his office. Gemma looked up the number of the head office of Campbell Jewels and, once again, dialled.

‘Could I speak to Damian Campbell, please?’ she requested of the girl who answered.

An extension was tried but no one answered.

‘Mr Campbell doesn’t seem to be in his office at the moment,’ the receptionist said with brisk politeness. ‘Would you like to leave a message and I’ll get him to ring you back?’

Gemma sighed. ‘Yes, all right.’ And she relayed her name and the hotel number, adding that this was an emergency and she would appreciate every effort being made to get the message to Mr Campbell as soon as possible.

After she had hung up yet again, Gemma lay down in the dimly lit room and closed her eyes. Depression descended, as did exhaustion. She hadn’t slept much the previous night. Now, she could not stop her mind from slipping into the blackness.

* * *

CELESTE LEFT the court-house in a highly agitated state. Her encounter with Byron was bad enough, but having to face that pig who had manhandled her so brutally the night of the robbery had upset her more than she’d thought it would. Still, she was sure he’d be put behind bars after her solid and unwavering testimony. Men who perpetrated violence against women should be incarcerated and the key thrown away, in her opinion.

She chose to walk back to the office. It was only a couple of blocks and the fresh air would do her mood good. On the way she made a brief stopover in a coffee lounge where she banished some hunger pangs with a roll and some coffee. By the time the lift carried her up to the tenth floor of the city office block that housed the head office of Campbell Jewels, Celeste felt much better.

Five minutes later she was seated behind her large modern desk, reading the monthly sales reports and chewing thoughtfully on a Biro. Shaking her head, she picked up her telephone and asked for Damian’s extension, only to be told by his secretary that he wasn’t back yet from lunch.

Striding out to Reception, she informed the startled receptionist that Mr Campbell was to be sent into her office the moment he reappeared, and not a second later. She was fuming by the time he walked in—without knocking—at five to four.

‘You wanted to see me, Celeste?’ he said with arrogant nonchalance, plonking himself down on the black leather chesterfield and drawing a packet of cigarettes from his pocket.

‘I don’t allow smoking in here, Damian,’ she said coldly.

‘Tough. If you don’t like it, fire me.’ And he lit up, drawing in deeply, then exhaling in her direction.

She glared at him through the haze of smoke. ‘I just might do that.’

‘No, you won’t. Darling Mama holds the ultimate reins in this place and she wouldn’t hear of it.’

‘Darling Mama is in Europe for another few months,’ came Celeste’s dry reminder. ‘Before she left, she gave me a free hand to do whatever I thought was best for the company. Not in one’s wildest imagination could your performance as sales and marketing manager be labelled that. Our retail outlets are still suffering a backlash from the publicity we received over the tour-guide scandal. Our exports are down nearly twenty per cent. And the quality of the opals we’ve been using leaves a lot to be desired.’

‘Shocking,’ he murmured, clearly not at all concerned.

Celeste’s eyes narrowed on him. ‘Have you been drinking, Damian?’

His smirk was revealing. ‘I may have had a tipple or two with lunch. Is that against the rules as well?’

‘No. But having a three-hour lunch is. You were supposed to be back at your desk at two. It’s after four.’

‘Is it really?’ he mocked. ‘I must have lost track of time.’

‘Damian,’ she said sternly. ‘You must realise I can’t allow this to go on.’

‘Why not? The family’s so rich that Campbell Jewels could go bankrupt and we’d still be all right. Your obsession with trying to outdo Whitmore Opals all the time is such a bore and so unnecessary. You should be out there enjoying yourself, like I do.’

‘Doing what?’ she snapped. ‘Drinking yourself silly and playing poker?’

‘Tch tch. Such spleen. I take it your meeting with Mr Whitmore in court did not go to your liking? What went wrong? Didn’t he succumb to the charms you so discreetly put on display today?’ His black gaze encompassed her thoroughly, noting her high colour as well as her figure-hugging clothing.

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Damian. And you’re trying to change the subject.’

‘Is that what I’m doing? I thought I was sitting here, smoking.’

‘You really are quite drunk, aren’t you?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘That’s it then. As of today, you’re no longer the sales and marketing manager. I won’t sack you completely. I wouldn’t do that to Mother. But I’m moving you into some useless position where you can’t do any harm. You can be director of public relations.’

‘Director of public relations? We haven’t got a director of public relations!’

‘Exactly. It should be right up your alley. No one will notice or care if you came to work or not.’

Celeste watched Damian’s annoyance disappearing as the practicality of his new position sank in. ‘Sounds perfect,’ he drawled. ‘And who are you going to get to replace me?’

She made a dismissive gesture with the Biro. ‘I’m sure there must be someone in this company who can do the job.’

Damian laughed. ‘I’m sure there is. I can see him now. He’ll be bright and young and handsome, not to mention prepared to be extremely grateful to the boss.’

Celeste had had just about enough. ‘Damian, I’m warning you. I—’

A sharp tap on the door stopped her in mid-flow.

‘Come in,’ she said sharply, knowing her assistant would not interrupt like this unless it was very important.’

‘Yes, Luke?’ she asked when he popped his head in the door.

‘Miss Landers says an urgent message came in for Mr Campbell a while back, but she only just found out he had returned from lunch and was in here.’

‘What is it?’ Damian asked, swivelling round.

‘Here... She wrote down the name and number.’ He handed over a piece of paper to Damian, who remained seated where he was. ‘The lady said it was an emergency and you were to ring her back as soon as you came in.’ Luke nodded towards Celeste, then left, shutting the door with discreet quiet behind him.

Celeste was shocked by the look of sly glee that came into Damian’s eyes as he read the note. ‘Fantastic,’ he muttered, then jumped to his feet. ‘I must go.’

‘Wait a minute, Damian! Who is this woman? And what’s the emergency?’

‘That, my dear sister,’ he said with dark passion in his voice, ‘is none of your business.’

‘I hope you’re not getting tangled up with another married woman.’

He threw her a scornful look. ‘I never get tangled up with a married woman, Celeste.’

‘That’s just playing with words. You know what I meant.’

‘Yes, of course I do. And as I said before, mind your own damned business!’

There was nothing quiet or discreet about Damian’s exit. He slammed the door after him, leaving Celeste feeling more worried about her brother than she’d been in years. Drinking. Gambling. Getting into debt. Having affairs with other men’s wives. Where would it all end?

She shook her head and looked back down at the appalling sales reports. There was nothing she could do about Damian, but there was something she could do about Campbell’s dwindling profits. Reaching over, she pressed the intercom button.

‘Yes, Ms Campbell?’ Luke answered.

‘I need to see you,’ she rapped out. ‘Straight away.’

‘Coming...’

Luke presented himself immediately, adjusting his tie a little self-consciously as he came to attention in front of her desk. At thirty, he was older than her previous assistant, and not nearly as handsome. But he knew how to dress to make the most of his very good body and he knew how to follow orders. Above all, he was intelligent and ambitious. Ruthlessly so, she believed. Every now and then, a cool sharpness came into those bland grey eyes of his, giving him a totally different look. Celeste sometimes wondered what he would have done if her occasional public flirtation with him had been put to the acid test. To be honest, she had a feeling he would have turned her down, which was perhaps why she was about to give him the chance of a lifetime.

‘As of this moment, Luke,’ she said crisply, ‘the position of sales and marketing manager is vacant. Mr Campbell is going to take over a new position in the company as director of public relations. I was wondering if you’d be interested in his old position.’

Celeste was gratified with Luke’s reaction. He was suitably stunned for a split-second, but quickly assumed that cool and highly self-contained bearing she rather admired.

‘I would indeed,’ was all he said. There was no gushing, no grovelling.

Celeste smiled at him. Yes, she thought with great satisfaction. You’ll do. You’ll do splendidly.

CHAPTER FIVE

GEMMA was wrenched out of a deep sleep by someone shaking her. Her eyes sprang open to find Damian Campbell sitting on the hotel bed beside her, peering worriedly down into her face. There was another equally worried-looking man hovering behind him. It took her a few moments to recognise him as the desk clerk from downstairs.

‘Are you all right, Gemma?’ Damian was asking anxiously. ‘You haven’t done anything silly, have you?’

‘Wh...what?’ she stammered, her head still fuzzy from sleep. ‘I...I...don’t know what you mean.’

Damian smiled. ‘She’s fine,’ he threw over his shoulder at the desk clerk. ‘You can go now. Thanks for letting me in. False alarm.’

Gemma’s mind slowly started working. She levered herself up on one elbow and watched the man leave. When he’d closed the door, her gaze returned to Damian. ‘What on earth did you tell him? My God, you thought I might have tried to kill myself, didn’t you?’

Damian shrugged. ‘Who knows what you might have done? I didn’t get your message for quite a while and you did say it was an emergency. When I rang the number and found out it was a hotel not far from the city, I decided to hot-foot it right over here instead of just ringing. Then when I knocked on your door, you didn’t answer.’

‘I was asleep!’

‘I can see that now.’

His smile was so sweet, Gemma couldn’t stay angry with him. ‘I...I’ve left Nathan,’ she admitted unhappily, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and sitting up properly.

‘I gathered that,’ came Damian’s gentle reply. He picked up her closest hand, stroking it soothingly with his other hand. After an initial instinctive resistance, Gemma soon found the action both relaxing and comforting. She closed her eyes and sighed.