I PARK MY Mini Cooper in the garage of my parents’ Point Piper mansion and head into the house, my stomach hollow and my muscles clenched, ready for a fight. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen my family, but as I step out onto the terrace, donning my sunglasses against the glare of another fantastic Sydney day, I want to switch off the sun and hide. Not from my family, although gatherings these days are usually fraught with competitive undercurrents and entrenched dysfunctional dynamics I could do without, but from myself. From the decisions I’ve made. The mess. The knowledge that the mistakes I made before are minuscule in comparison to this one—losing Cam.
Holding on to the torrent of emotions inside, I wave to my mother, who’s in the infinity pool with my nephew, and head for the barbecue, where, typically, the males of my family congregate, as if grilling a steak requires testosterone. Before I even arrive I can sense an argument brewing between my brother, Liam, and my father.
I sigh, every bone in my body aching with self-inflicted grief. What am I doing here? I could have made any number of excuses—I have tons of emails to catch up on, six weeks’ worth of laundry to organise...damn, even airing my own long-neglected penthouse would be preferable to this, although I’m mostly here for my mother’s sake. But what I really want to do is lick my wounds while I try to work out if I’ve just sabotaged the best thing that ever happened to me.
My hollow stomach gripes again—ever since I arrived home last night after the gala I’ve wanted to throw up and it gives me a sick sense of satisfaction. I got what I wanted and it hurts like hell. It’s over, the end not neat as I’d hoped, but then when is anything ever neat when matters of the heart are involved?
Something inside my chest lurches.
It’s grief, just grief.
It will pass.
I force my face to conceal everything I’m feeling and greet my brother, accepting his kiss on the cheek. I pour myself a drink and take a tiny sip of the iced water, but even that gets stuck in my throat. I put it down and tune in to the argument to take my mind off Cam and the gaping hole he’s left in my life, although this is the very drama I was dreading.
Cam was right. Why am I putting myself through this? I’m a grown-ass woman, not a dutiful child. And today there’s only room inside my battle-sore body for one fight: staving off tears.
If I weren’t afraid of bursting into those unheard-of tears, I’d join my mother in the pool, because I’m too heartsick to deal with family drama, but perhaps Liam needs my support.
‘Have I interrupted a fight?’ I say, watching my father stab at a steak on the grill with barbecue tongs.
My brother is uncharacteristically annoyed. ‘More of an ongoing discussion of how badly I’m running the ship,’ says Liam. ‘You know, sis, you did well to bail when you did.’ He stares at the back of my father’s head as if daring him to contradict this in front of me.
I’m shocked speechless. This is the first time I’ve heard of any discontent between my father and his golden boy, not that the fault lies with Liam.
I try to keep the bitterness from erupting, from saying something I’ll regret, but then it hits me.
I really don’t care.
I’m thirty-six. I’ve just lost a man with whom I suspect I’ve fallen in love. I have bigger problems than causing a scene at a family barbecue. Massive problems. Insurmountable problems...
What have I done?
I focus on my brother. ‘Well, I wasn’t given a choice. As I recall, my services were no longer required.’ Sympathy for Liam wells up inside me—so he’s not good enough either, in our father’s eyes. ‘Is this about Jensen’s?’
I have no desire to be the source of tension between these two men, but really, where does my father get off with his expectations and constant criticism? I shouldn’t need to impress this man, and shame, hotter than the November sun, licks at me that I even tried. I’m his daughter. His pride should be automatic. His love unconditional. Like Cam’s...
Cam—the only person whose opinion matters.
The pangs of longing twisting my stomach into knots grow stronger.
Liam’s clearly more pissed than I’ve ever seen him, because he ignores my question and puts down his beer at the nearby table.
‘You know, Dad, Orla bested us because she’s just better. Perhaps you should have thought of that when you were succession planning.’
Liam turns away from our father in disgust and squeezes my shoulder. ‘You look great, sis. It’s been years since I’ve seen you look this relaxed. Whatever you’ve been doing these past few weeks suits you. If you want my advice, you should keep it up.’
He moves away to the other side of the terrace to join his wife, presumably to calm down so he too can get through a simple family gathering. I watch him kiss my sister-in-law and wave to his son in the pool, pangs of jealousy slicing through me, not for his position as CEO that I once coveted above all else. But because he has a life. A rich and balanced life. A life like the one I could have tried to create with Cam, if I wasn’t so caught up in my fear of failure.
I close my eyes, clarity arriving like a smack in the face. What is failure but evidence that you’ve tried your best?
Cam’s already said I’m enough for him, just the way I am. No changes, no expectations, no conditions. I touch an earring, the earrings Cam gave me in Singapore, hoping somehow to connect with the man who’s taught me how to love. Properly, unconditionally, and without fear. I located the box last night when I returned home to my dark and empty home. I fell asleep clutching it, the only part of him I had access to. The first thing I did this morning was change my earrings.
Even if I’ve lost Cam for ever through my own stupidity, I need a fresh reminder every time I look in the mirror. A reminder of everything he gave me. A reminder I’m more than Orla Hendricks, successful CEO. I’m also Orla Hendricks, woman, and I can have a fulfilling, complete relationship as long as I’m prepared to work just as hard at it.
Not that loving Cam would be hard.
I gasp. I love him...
For once my head is as clear as the cloudless blue framing Sydney’s famous skyline in the distance.
He sees me. The real me. Despite our differences, he wants me. Or perhaps, in all areas that matter, we’re not that different after all. I was just too scared to believe in those qualities. But Cam’s shown me balance. He’s shown me that I can have it all—a job I’m good at and a relationship I want to work equally hard at. For the first time in my life, I want the commitment. I want to devote my time and energy and everything that I am to making us work.
I want him. In every way.
My father’s voice interrupts my thoughts. ‘I hope Jensen’s isn’t more than you can handle.’
I open my eyes with new resolve that has nothing to do with justifying myself to this man. ‘Really? Talking business? This is family time.’
I look down at the steaks. There’s no way a single mouthful of the delicious-smelling lunch is going to make it past my throat, now I’ve acknowledged my feelings for Cam. But have I left it too late? Have I ruined the only thing in my life that I love more than my work?
Him.
‘I’ve spent the past ten years building my firm,’ I tell my startled father. ‘It’s a well-oiled machine, and even if it wasn’t, it’s only a job, so don’t you worry about whether I can handle Jensen’s. But while we’re on the subject, I’m going to be taking some time off—my personal life is a mess and I’m hoping to rectify that.’ The barest surge of hope wells inside me, in no way diminished by my father’s dismissive grunt.
‘I’m not hungry and I have somewhere else to be. Tell Mum I’ll call her later.’ I kiss my father’s cheek and for the first time in years truly see him, see the stress lines, the grey hair and the near perpetual scowl he wears as the toll of his ambition. I want better than that for myself. And, like always, I can have what I want; I just pray I’m not too late to have it with Cam.
‘You know, Dad, you should try to find greater work-life balance and support Liam in doing the same.’
I expect some scathing retort or splutter of anger, but his jaw actually drops and I wish Cam were here to witness the look on his face.
‘Oh, and by the way,’ I add, ‘your steaks are burning.’
I pull up outside Cam’s cottage as the sun kisses the horizon. When I climb from my car and hear the faint, rhythmic sound of hammering, I know I’ve found him at last, my body flooding with chills of relief.
It has taken the rest of the afternoon for me to track him down. He wasn’t at his cold and sterile penthouse—no surprise. I checked the local beach, knowing he likes to surf. I even reached out to the construction company he used to work for, my mounting frustration turning to panic. I finally called a contact in the real-estate industry, someone I made obscenely wealthy last year, begging him to flout the law and provide me with the address of the cottage Cam purchased a year ago.
I collect the cool-bag full of Cam’s favourite beer from the passenger seat of my car and head down the driveway towards the sound of banging, every nerve in my body firing like the cascade of fireworks we watched over the bay in Singapore only a week ago. As I round the property, ducking under an overhanging eucalyptus tree in desperate need of a hearty prune, I’m temporarily blinded by the last rays of the setting sun.
Then my vision clears and I’m blinded anew, only this time it’s the sight of the man I love, shirtless, with a tool belt hugging his hips, that scorches my retinas.
The rear of the property boasts the enviable sea views he showed me on his phone that day in Dubai. A newly constructed deck extends the width of the cottage, and Cam is busy framing up what appears to be a perfect sunroom off the existing living area. I can smell the sawdust before I approach, my head spinning with hopes and fears and what-ifs.
He’d have every right to turf me off his property. He’s spent the past six weeks building me up, pushing me to be the best version of myself. A whole version. Not afraid to let go, to loosen the reins that have trapped me inside my own beliefs and expectations for so long.
But can I be whole without him now that I know I love him?
I must have stepped on a stick or piece of sun-scorched bark from the eucalyptus, because he hears the crack and spins. Sees me.
His arms fall to his sides, the hammer hanging in his hand. A million emotions pass over his face in the few seconds of silence that we spend staring. If I could stop the wheel spinning on the love I saw yesterday at his penthouse I would, but there’s no sign of it.
Did I kill it for good? Am I too late?
I hold out the cool-bag, my arm trembling. ‘I thought you might like a cold beer. It’s your favourite.’
Still he stares.
I swallow, my throat parched.
He sniffs, tucks the hammer into his work belt and looks back my way. ‘Why are you here, Orla?’
I try to un-hear the accusation and hostility in his question. It’s not unreasonable after the way I treated him. As if he didn’t matter. As if he wasn’t important. As if he isn’t the very reason my heart beats.
‘You invited me.’ My voice is small. Where is my smiling, devil-may-care Cam?
He smirks, shakes his head, but it’s an expression of disbelief. ‘That was before.’
Before I hurt him. Before he tried to tell me how he felt and I shut him down.
‘You threw my invitation back in my face, along with my dreams for us.’
His words are like shots from the nail gun I see on the new deck. ‘I know, and I want to apologise. You were right about me. My life isn’t enough.’
I take a shuddering step forward and then halt when the expression on his face stays blank and cold. I put the cool-bag down on the grass.
‘I want those dreams, Cam. I want you.’
He looks away to the horizon and I crumple a little more. I’m blowing this, allowing my one chance to slip through my fingers. I lift my chin, willing him silently to look back at me with every cell in my body.
Our eyes meet, just like that first time in Monaco, only now I love this man about whom my first impressions were so wrong. ‘I want this dream, Cam. The cottage, waking up to the sunrise, sitting by your side on that deck to watch the sunset. I know I said I didn’t want a relationship, but that was because I was scared that I had some vital emotional piece of me lacking. Scared to try. Scared to fail. Scared that I’d be nothing without my career because that’s all I’ve had, all I’ve been able to control for so long.’
‘So what’s changed? I’m still the same me I was yesterday. The same me you didn’t value enough to give a chance.’ He hooks his thumbs into his worn leather tool belt in a way I’m certain he’s done a thousand times, and my body jolts, because I want to be there to see him do it a thousand times more. To watch him build this cottage, his dream, and to help him build many more dreams of our shared future.
‘Nothing’s changed, or everything.’ I twist my hands together. This isn’t going well. ‘I know I’m not making sense. But I spoke to my father earlier, and I realised something. Well, I realised lots of things, actually. But the most important ones were that I don’t care what he thinks. I only care about proving something to you.’
‘I told you last night. You never have to prove anything to me—’
‘I do.’ I step closer, urgency driving me, although his sphere of personal space vibrates around him like a force-field, keeping me at a distance. ‘I need to prove that I love you, because I know I’ve hurt you and it’s my biggest regret—that and letting you go in the first place. Thinking I could live without you.’
He still looks wary, even as his eyes latch on to mine, penetrating and searching.
‘I know you won’t believe that I love you for a while, but I’ll keep trying, keep showing you until you’re convinced.’ I pop one hand on my hip and push my sunglasses up onto my head so he can see I mean business.
‘I mean it, Cam—you know how driven I am when I want something. You, multi-billion-dollar deals...it’s all the same to me. I won’t give up.’ My weight shifts from one foot to the other, despite the confident spiel. I wish he’d say something, even if it’s Get off my property. Anything to break the tension.
I’m about to turn away in defeat when he says, ‘You’re wearing the earrings.’
I’m so focused on breathing so I don’t collapse that it takes me a moment to understand. ‘What? Oh, yes.’ I touch the earring again, the intricate gold filigree reassuring under my fingertip. ‘I wanted a new reminder. Every time I touch these, every time I look in the mirror, I want to remember you, remember all the moments, incredible moments we shared. Because that’s the life I want, Cam. A life filled with incredible, joyous, sexy, fun-packed, simple moments. With you.’
My pulse roars in my ears.
He stares, unmoving, his beautiful eyes expressionless.
And then, with his strangled grunt in my ears, I’m dragged into his arms, his big, strong, comforting arms. I’m pressed against his bare, sweaty chest, which is all dusty with sawdust, and I’ve never felt more at home. His mouth covers mine, and I curl my fingers into his hair, never wanting to let him go ever again.
I pull away from the kiss, keeping a hold of his face. ‘I’m sorry. Thank you for challenging me, showing me I can be whoever I want to be. I can re-invent myself and break free of my own cage.’
He grips my shoulders. ‘You’re wonderful, just the way you are. I love you.’
I kiss him again and he pushes me back by the shoulders. ‘Thank you for putting everything into perspective. You showed me I’m not defined by my inheritance, that I can rule it, rather than it ruling me.’
‘You’re not your father, Cam. It’s just money. It’s this,’ I wave an arm in the direction of the cottage, his labour of love, ‘and this,’ I press my palm flat on his chest, over his heart, ‘how you live your life, how you use your inheritance to make a difference—that’s who you are.’
We kiss again and this time when we pull apart we’re both laughing, joyous, thrilling laughter I want to hear and feel every day for the rest of my life.
‘So are you going to show me the cottage or not?’ I put my arms around his waist and rest my head against his chest, feel the steady thump of his heart.
My heart.
His voice rumbles from deep within his chest. ‘Sure, but there’s nowhere else to sit apart from here.’ He points to two dusty, paint-splattered deckchairs on the lawn, perfectly positioned to watch the sun rise and set.
I look up, lift my eyebrows, new pangs of envy making me pout. ‘Two? Had company, have you?’ The thought of anyone looking at my man while he’s shirtless makes me form fists. I might have to erect a privacy fence until he’s finished the cottage.
He tucks me under his arm, kisses the top of my head and leads me towards the house with a chuckle. ‘My cousin’s been helping me.’
‘The one you sent the car to?’
He nods.
‘Good, because from here on in, that second deckchair has got my name on it—I’m going to enjoy spending the summer watching you sweat shirtless and get splinters I can kiss better.’ I lift his hand to my mouth and press a kiss over his fingertips.
‘Is that right?’ he says, his mouth twisted in that way that makes my blood sing and my insides clench in anticipation. He leads me through the demolished kitchen and down the hall to the cooler rear part of the house. He kicks open the last door. It’s a bedroom, a single camp bed is pushed up against one wall, and Cam’s tuxedo from last night hangs from a rusty nail on the back of the door.
I turn, already mentally undressing him as I undo the buttons of my blouse, making it clear what I propose we do with the rest of the night.
‘What about my beer?’ He pops open his fly and heels off his work boots, his heated stare tightening my nipples to hard peaks.
I smile at my man. ‘It’ll keep. Let’s take a moment.’ And I kiss him, flopping backwards onto the narrow mattress and tugging him down on top of me.