Jill could kick herself. What did she think she was doing? This managing of a bloody lightning strike was proving much more difficult in practice than in theory. Not that it was an excuse, but Amelia had looked so scrumptious. So impossible to resist saying hello to. For a second, Jill had believed this was her chance to tell Amelia that she would need to refer her on. But Amber and the woman who managed her studio, Micky-something, were sitting two tables down from Amelia. And who knew who else might walk in? Sheryl might have turned up at their table and Sheryl had an uncanny gift for rooting out people’s intentions. It also wouldn’t have been fair to drop Amelia as a client in a coffee shop, when they had run into each other by coincidence only. Other than all of that, Jill had yet to decide upon the reason she should give Amelia. In her heart of hearts, she knew she needed to be honest. She owed Amelia that much, lest she think it was something about her. Technically, it was something about her, of course—it was all about her beautiful, glorious self.
What a mess. But Jill had three days to get her act together. And Amelia had looked good. Jill couldn’t have stopped herself going over even if she had tried her hardest. There was this pull about her. Looking at her from a distance wasn’t enough. Jill had to hear the sound of her magical voice. How low it dipped when she said hello.
The intercom buzzed. Her next client had arrived. If anything, Jill owed it to her other clients to let Amelia go. She owed them her full attention, not whatever brainpower she could spare that wasn’t occupied with all things Amelia Shaw.
Just as Jill opened the door of the Bondi Pink Bean, her phone buzzed in her purse. She checked the message before ordering a drink. It was Hera, sending a million apologies because she was going to be late, but would do her best to be there as soon as she could.
Jill had been stuck in traffic herself, although she didn’t know which direction Hera was coming from or if her delay was even traffic-related. Jill didn’t mind. This gave her more time to think. She looked around the coffee shop. This Pink Bean looked quite different than the one in Darlinghurst. When she looked behind the counter, into the face of a short but very buff man, she understood where the difference in interior design choices came from. That man could only be Rocco, Hera’s nephew, and co-owner of this branch. Jill wondered what the deal was with their connection to the other Pink Bean. She tried to remember if Hera had ever told her about the details. She could check her notes. This reminded her that Hera was, indeed, a very recent client of hers.
Before she had a chance to order, Katherine walked in.
“Ah, Jill. Hera sent me. She’s mortified she’s running late.” Kat walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek as though they were already old friends. “She’s stuck at a job. A discussion with an electrician that got a bit… sparky. She should be here in half an hour. She asked me to apologize profusely and keep you company.”
“That’s very kind.” Although Jill was very good at keeping her own company. “Does Hera think I need babysitting?” she quipped.
“To tell you the truth, I think she’s a bit nervous about meeting you like this.” Kat ushered them to a couple of very plush, dark green armchairs by a low walnut table. “Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable. What I can get you to drink?”
“Macchiato, please.”
Kat sauntered off. Jill couldn’t help but follow her with her gaze. Kat was the kind of woman who drew attention to herself. “She’d find a way to swing her behind just going from chair to chair,” Hera had once said of her. Funny that Jill remembered that.
She took the opportunity to glance around again. The decor of this Pink Bean was much warmer than the starker whites and beiges in Darlinghurst. Unusual trinkets were dotted around the place—a strangely structured lamp, a row of teeny-tiny coffee cups in all shades of the rainbow. The chairs were all a different color and shape but still, as if by magic, worked together to create a welcoming, cozy vibe.
“There you go.” Kat returned with two steaming cups.
“I’ve been keeping the Darlinghurst Pink Bean in business with my caffeine consumption alone,” Jill said. “I’m curious to taste the Bondi coffee.”
Kat looked at her as she took a sip. She waited for Jill’s verdict.
“It tastes exactly the same.”
Kat nodded. “Kristin’s a not-so-silent investor.” She painted on a smile. “We use the same beans and machine so the coffee is of the same high standard.”
“Pink beans?” Jill half-joked, half-inquired.
“Not in color, but…” The skin around Kat’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “I’m so glad you came, Jill. Hera would never say it as such, but she really admires you.” The dimples in her cheeks grew deeper. “I know for a fact she kept seeing you way longer than she actually needed to, just because she likes you so much.” She interjected with a chuckle. “I said to her: ‘My darling, I had no idea you were so keen to pay for female company.’” Kat laughed loudly at her own witty remark.
Jill agreed that, given Katherine’s former profession as a lesbian escort, it was hilarious, although she could easily imagine Hera not being amused by her comment. But she guessed that was how Kat and Hera were together. A true case of opposites attract. Only then did the compliment sink in.
Jill was well aware that Hera’s need for therapy had been coming to an end. She had even subtly hinted at it a couple of times. But Jill never pushed her clients out the door. She figured as long as they kept coming, they must have a valid reason for doing so. In Hera’s case the reason might not have been therapeutic, but that didn’t make it any less valid. Hera being a naturally rather closed-off person, Jill could easily see why it would be easier for her to come and talk to Jill once a week instead of confiding in a friend. It also made it easier to see why Hera had asked her if they could be friends. To deformalize their relationship and see where it went.
“Oh, Kat,” Jill said. “I can’t see that kind of joke going down too well with Hera.”
“She can take it now.” She fixed her gaze on Jill. “I guess I have you to thank for that. Well, partially. I’m not entirely unaware of my own charms, so…” She chuckled again, but Jill knew she meant every word. “I’m glad I have you all to myself for a bit, actually. Hera would be mortified if she knew I was going to ask you this…” Kat’s eyes sparkled.
In many ways, she was just like Liz. Born to seduce. Or even more so, born to make ill-at-ease women relax. To give them something they might otherwise lack, for various reasons. Jill could feel herself warming to Kat already. She could feel herself getting ready to open up. She also wasn’t born yesterday. She knew very well what was coming next, yet she enjoyed playing innocent.
“Liz and I have been speculating about you. I know she told you about it last Saturday. Liz reckons you bat for our team. However, my money is on something not so… strictly defined.”
Jill burst out laughing. “Wow. Are you telling me that you’ve had actual conversations about my sexual preference?”
Kat lifted a shoulder. “You have to understand, Jill. Liz and I used to be in a completely different profession. We still deal with people, but… well, it’s not quite the same, is it? Reading people. Trying to figure out what they like… It gives us an enormous thrill.”
“I bet it does.” Jill was highly amused by Kat. She wasn’t offended in the slightest. That must be another one of Kat’s talents. “It’s no big deal to me at all. I’m bisexual. I’ve been single for the better part of a year now, after being in a relationship with a lovely man called Rasmus for almost eleven years.” Jill had nothing but fond memories of Rasmus, apart from the breakup. There was no such thing as a pain-free breakup.
“Ha. I mean, sorry to hear about you breaking up, of course. But I knew it. I called it. Liz owes me fifty bucks.”
“Seriously? You put money on it?”
“What’s a bet without stakes?” Kat said matter-of-factly. “Did it end badly between you and Rasmus?” Kat’s facial expression had shifted from triumphant to serene. Maybe, Jill thought, there isn’t a world of difference between being a professional escort and being a therapist.
“It could have been much worse. Rasmus is from Sweden and he wanted to move home. His mother fell ill and he thought the time was right to go back. For the longest time, I thought, if the time came, I’d go with him. After all, he stayed in Australia much longer than planned for me. But then, when push came to shove, I found I didn’t really want to go.”
“Do you regret not following him? In hindsight?”
Jill shook her head. “No. I knew it then and I’m still convinced now, that it was the right decision for me. Not because I didn’t love him enough, because I did, and that was the part that hurt the most. But… I would have had to leave my clients. I’m no spring chicken and I would have had to build a practice from scratch in a country that uses another language, despite most Swedes being fluent in English. I simply didn’t want to make such a significant move, even if it meant giving up my relationship. And he didn’t want to stay, so, there you go…”
“It must have been hard, though.”
“It was. For a while.”
“And now?” Kat grinned. “Got your eye on someone new or just biding your time?”
Why was Kat asking? Was she just being nosy or did she know something? The latter was impossible. Jill had only told Vic about Amelia. Despite her best intentions, Jill heaved a sigh. She couldn’t help it. Amelia wasn’t just a constant presence in her mind, it was as though she had taken over.
“Uh-oh. I know that look,” Kat said.
“There is someone…” Jill also wanted so badly to tell someone about Amelia—someone who wasn’t her therapist. She would never, in a million years, have told Hera. She wouldn’t have told Patrick. Quite possibly not any of her other close friends either. But here was Katherine, Hera’s partner, who was so good with people she had Jill ready to blurt it all out within minutes of sitting down. Jill hadn’t even finished her coffee yet. “But, it’s impossible. Which makes it all the more enticing, of course.”
“Why is it impossible?”
“She…” Jill noticed how Kat gave a slight nod of the head. “She’s a client.”
“Ah.” Now Kat nodded as though she understood. “Has Hera ever told you how Liz and Jess met?”
“I know Jessica was a client of Liz’s, but, with all due respect, um”—Jill didn’t know how to put this delicately—“my profession is bound by a different code of ethics.”
“I bet it is.” Kat just smiled. “So, tell me about this woman who’s got you so tied up in knots.”
“I can’t tell you about her. Everything I know about her, I know because I’m her therapist, which makes our conversations confidential.”
“Then tell me what she looks like.”
“Wow, Kat, I have to hand it to you… you’re something else. I can definitely see why Hera fell for you the way she did. You’re very… persuasive.”
“Fell for me? Christ. She made me work for it like I’ve never worked for anything else in my life. That includes this coffee shop, for your information.”
“She needed time. That’s all. Look at you now.”
“Stop deflecting, Jill. I know all the tricks in the book. I need to hear more about this mystery woman.”
“She’s… got this very low voice. I’ve never quite heard a voice like that. It’s utterly enchanting. And her lips. They look so pillowy and kissable. They’re just the right fullness, you know.” Jill sighed again. She sounded like a teenager fawning over a poster of a pop star. “I shouldn’t be treating her. I know that much. There are no two ways about it, but…”
“You find it impossible to say goodbye, because then you risk never seeing her again.”
“Exactly.” Jill downed her coffee.
“Do you need something stronger?”
“I can’t. I’m driving.” Jill could really do with something stronger. “Please, do keep this between us. I shouldn’t even have said anything.”
“Of course.” Kat said it as though it was implied from the moment Jill had opened her mouth to speak. “What are you going to do?”
“There’s only one course of action. I will find her another therapist and then I will refer her.” Jill knew who to ask. Amelia would be a good fit for Jennifer. But she hadn’t made the call yet. She’d picked up the phone and dialed but she hadn’t let the call go through. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it.
“Will you try and see her again once she’s no longer your client?”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Maybe not the day after. Or the week after. But surely, if you give it some time… If you still feel the same about her, then you should. Who’s going to object to that?” Kat said.
“A lot can happen in a few weeks; it still wouldn’t feel right.”
“You’re meeting with Hera and she’s your former client.”
“As friends. There’s a big difference.”
“Is there? Really?” The door opened and Kat looked up. “Speak of the devil.” Her face burst into a huge grin at the sight of Hera. “You’re right not to tell Hera about this. I think we both know she can be a touch judgmental about things like this.” She shot Jill a wink, then got up to greet her partner.
Jill watched them. The ease with which they hugged. The automatic smiles when they clasped eyes on each other. She tried to insert herself and Amelia into a situation like this—greeting each other after work. Tempting though the image was, Jill couldn’t see it, because she knew it was doomed from the very start.