The scotch hadn’t helped to keep Xander’s mind off Jeanie — if anything it had made it worse. He’d tossed and turned half the night, worrying about how he was going to break the news to her and whether he would be able to talk her into staying in Sydney. The opportunity was too good for him to forgo and perhaps with a bit of encouragement, she would see the benefits and agree. As soon as it seemed reasonable, he picked up the phone, hoping he’d get Norma.
“Hilton Hotel.”
“I’d like to speak to a Norma Baker. I believe she’s staying in room forty-two-oh-two.”
“Just a moment I’ll put you through.”
“Hello, Norma Baker speaking.”
“Ah, wonderful. I got you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Norma, it’s Xander, Xander Fitzgerald. I was wondering if I could take you and Jeanie out for lunch. They gave me the details of the prize last night and I’d like to tell you both all about it.”
“It would be lovely, Xander. You did mean today, didn’t you? We’re going home tomorrow. I can’t leave the café closed any longer.”
“I mean today. I thought I’d pick you up in a couple of hours and take you to The Crab Bar at Woolloomooloo for lunch. Would you like that?”
“Would I like to? I’d love to. You never know who we might bump into.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Russell Crowe’s got an apartment there. Oh, I just loved him in Gladiator. Maybe he’s got a poster from one of his films I could have for the café.”
“Norma, I don’t know we’ll bump into Russell, but I would like to take you there for lunch today”.
“Oh my. It’ll be like going to Hollywood. I’ll have to find something to wear. Jeanie, hurry up and … ” He pulled the phone away from his ear, amazed so much volume could come from such a small package. “Xander’s going to take us to Russell Crowe’s apartment and we’re going to have lunch.”
“Woo! Norma, slow down. We’re going to The Crab Bar for lunch. I don’t expect we’ll see Russell Crowe.”
“If we do, I certainly hope he’s got more clothes on than he did when he was in that colossal-eum in Rome.”
Xander chuckled loudly. “I’ll be around to pick you up at one. I’ll meet you and Jeanie in the lobby.” Flipping his mobile closed, he leaned back against the railing on the deck of his apartment, humming quietly. From the sound of Norma’s excited reaction, everything would work out perfectly and Jeanie’s response last night was nothing more than a case of nerves. She’d be fine — and when he told her about the plans for the coming week, she’d be thrilled. It was a shame Norma had to get back to the café, but he’d be more than happy to show Jeanie the sights of Sydney in between the photo shoots.
• • •
Xander jumped out of the taxi and jogged through the revolving doors into the lobby of the hotel, scanning the crowd, searching for Jeanie and Norma.
“Hello, Xander.” He turned and clamped his lips tightly together in an attempt to prevent the wolf whistle exploding past his teeth. The silky orange dress clung to her in all the right places and showed off the golden freshness of her skin and her luscious curves.
“Jeanie, hi. You’re beautiful.”
She performed a quick pirouette and he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Her blue eyes twinkled and she laughed. “Gran said we shouldn’t let the side down if we were going to have lunch with the film stars.”
“Oh no. She doesn’t honestly think we’re lunching with Russell Crowe, does she?”
God! Jeanie looks fantastic.
“No, I don’t think so, but Sydney seems to have brought out the fashionista in her. She insisted we went and found something new to wear this morning. Make sure you tell her how great her new dress is.”
Never mind how wonderful her grandmother’s dress was. Had she had a good look in the mirror herself? Xander took a step closer, unable to resist the temptation to touch her, and ran his hand down her arm, coming to rest on her elbow, all the while watching the slow smile building on her face and her eyes darkening. The hairs on his arms tingled in response as he inhaled the vanilla scent of her shampoo.
“Here she is.” Jeanie turned away to greet her grandmother and a sudden pang of loss hit him.
Norma’s heels tapped lightly on the marble floors and this time Xander released the wolf whistle trapped in his throat, raising a hand to his heart and batting his eyelashes.
“Norma, I am flattered to be accompanying two such beautiful women to lunch.” He lifted her hand and placed it on his arm with a little pat.
“Oh, get away, you flirt.” Her giggle echoed in the foyer and the concierge grinned and winked at him. “I’m so excited about lunch. You are spoiling us, you know. We won’t want to go home.”
“I’m going to whisk you away in a taxi, ladies. I have one at my disposal, waiting outside.” He offered his other arm to Jeanie and they made their way to the cab.
• • •
Jeanie gazed out at the sparkling water — the pristine white motor cruisers moored against the wharf and the backdrop of Sydney Harbour. She sat back with a smile, wondering why she had never appreciated how beautiful a city could be. Her only abiding memory of Sydney was the airport. The continual trek backward and forward to farewell her parents when they left on another of their permanently extended trips. She shuddered and pushed the memory away, back in the hidey-hole with all the other horrors of childhood. Today was to be enjoyed, and tomorrow she and Gran would go home to the café and everything would return to normal.
“Champagne, ladies?”
“I think I’ll just have mineral water to start with, please.”
“Oh, Jeanie, don’t be a spoilsport. You have to have champagne. This is a celebration.”
“A bottle of the Arras and some sparkling mineral water.”
Jeanie shrugged her shoulders, happy to let Xander take control of the situation. Perhaps she was being a spoilsport.
“Technically I’ve ordered a sparkling wine because it is made in Australia, but it gives some of the French champagnes a run for their money. I think you’ll like it.”
Of course they’d like it. He was trying so very hard to be nice and she was being churlish. It was bound to be better than anything she and Gran bought down at the Bottlo in Oldbridge. She turned to him and offered a smile by way of apology, embarrassed by the memory of her behavior at the awards. It had just been too much. All the people and all the bright lights came a very close second to one of those ghastly nightmares where she walked down the street and everyone stopped to stare before she realized she was stark naked. She shuddered and tried the smile again.
“Would you think I was being extremely crass if I got my camera out? It’s only a point-and-shoot, but it seems such a waste of a beautiful day.” Xander’s comment wiped the smile off her face.
“Of course not. We don’t mind you taking pictures, do we, Jeanie?”
Thanks, Gran, thanks a lot.
She’d rather hoped photographs could become a thing of the past. Seeing her image last night in glorious twelve-foot splendor wasn’t anything she’d like to repeat. She slipped her hands under her thighs, determined to keep her fingers away from her mouth this time.
“So, Xander.” Norma put her menu down on the table with a determined thump. “Are you going to tell us all the details about the prize you and Jeanie won last night?”
“Shall we order first?”
It could have been her imagination, but Jeanie caught something in Xander’s tone and glanced up at him. A slight flush colored his cheeks, and then his eyes dived back to the menu.
“No, let’s have a drink first and Xander can tell us what we missed.” She raised her eyebrows at him, calling his bluff.
Xander cleared his throat and moved his chair back a little from the table as the waiter brought their drinks.
“So, Xander? What did we win? A cruise for two? A trip to Hollywood? A year’s subscription to Starstruck?” Jeanie asked.
“Oh, I’d take any of those, with pleasure.” Her grandmother’s hand came down on her thigh, delivering a gentle squeeze, a childhood reminder to watch her manners. She shrugged the hand away, suddenly angry, and took a couple of deep breaths.
“Right.” He pulled his chair closer and then steepled his long fingers, elbows propped on the table. “You — we — won first prize. It’s actually a combination of prizes because it’s for the model and the photographer.”
Jeanie leaned back in her seat, plucking at the white linen napkin in her lap, the taste of the champagne turning sour in her mouth. She swallowed it along with the feeling of dread and let them lay curled at the base of her tummy.
“Oh, this is so exciting.” Norma pulled her seat closer to the table and their glasses wobbled precariously.
“You’re right on one count, Jeanie. A year’s subscription to Starstruck.”
Norma gave a little clap and Jeanie picked the edge of the napkin more ferociously.
“Unfortunately, there’s no cruise nor a trip to Hollywood but there is a week’s accommodation in Sydney at the Hilton.”
“Oh, that’s exciting. Can we take it whenever we like?” Norma asked.
“Err. No. That’s the catch.”
Jeanie closed her eyes against the bright sunlight, fervently wishing she had thought to bring her sunglasses. “The catch?” She opened her eyes with a snap and stared directly at Xander, noticing the flush of color tint his cheekbones again.
“What’s the prize for the photographer, Xander? You must get something for taking the winning picture,” Norma said.
Jeanie bit her lip, wishing she could turn around and tell her grandmother to shut up, but she’d never been able to, not even in the most dreadful of moments — and there had been a few.
“A ten page spread in Starstruck worldwide.”
Jeanie let out a deep sigh of relief. What was the matter with her? “It’s a great opportunity, Xander.” She grinned at him, genuinely pleased for him as the tension leached out of her shoulders.
His shaggy hair swung across his forehead as he shook his head. “A ten page spread of the model photographed for the competition.” He finished with a raise of his eyebrows.
“I’m sorry?” Every muscle in her body cramped. She needed this spelled out just in case her worst nightmare was coming true. Never mind running down the street naked — this was worldwide naked, and ten pages of it to boot. “Let me get this right. You do a ten page spread of me for a worldwide fashion and movie magazine?”
“Yes.” He nodded and gave a tight grin, showing his ridiculously white teeth.
“No!” Absolutely no way was she going to subject herself another round of being judged like a prize cow at an agricultural show.
“No?”
“No! Categorically no. I’m not doing it.”
“Jeanie, darling.” Jeanie pushed her grandmother’s hand away and stood up, swaying slightly against the table, her knees feeling pathetically weak.
“Sit down, Jeanie. We need to talk about it before you make any decision.” The calm, rational tone in his voice prevented any argument and she sank back down, staring at his eyes, a perfect match for his shirt, as always. She shook her head and reached for her glass, taking a serious slug of the cool sparkling wine and waiting like a condemned prisoner to hear the verdict.
“You can do it. It’s not that bad.”
She shook her head slowly and silently.
“How bad was it having your photograph taken at the café? It was over before you knew it.”
“And I live with it for the rest of my life. It’s a horrid picture. I’m chewing my fingernails and I’m fat. I’m not a prize heifer but I look like one.” There, she’d said it. It wasn’t that there was anything intrinsically wrong with the photograph — a blind man could tell it was a good picture. It was the model, the pose, and the person. Her.
“It’s not a horrid photograph, darling. It’s beautiful.”
This time, she didn’t push her grandmother’s hand away; she clung onto it like a lifeline.
“Jeanie.”
She raised her eyes to his face and saw pity reflected back at her. Pity! No one was going to pity her. She squared her shoulders.
“Suppose we make a deal,” Xander said. “I’ll take the pictures and every evening we’ll go through them and you can decide which ones we keep and which ones we trash. How does that sound?”
Better. But she wasn’t ready to agree just yet. Not without all the details spelled out. “How long will it take? I can’t leave Gran alone at the café for too long. She can’t manage without me.”
“I’ll be fine, darling, don’t you worry about me. It’s about time you had some fun in your life and stopped worrying about me.”
“There’s a week’s accommodation booked at the Hilton. We can take all the photographs in and around Sydney and my office is in Surry Hills, only a few minutes’ walk from here. I’m sure we can wrap it up in less than a week.”
“And I truly get to choose the pictures I like?”
His navy eyes sparkled at her. “Yes, truly.” He’d taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing bronzed, muscled arms. Perhaps photography was a more physical occupation than she imagined.
“I need to think about it.”
He nodded and lifted his index finger. The waiter immediately appeared. So he had that effect on other people, did he? Not just her.
“We’d like to order, please. Norma what would you like?”
“Oh, just a minute while I remind myself. Jeanie, what are you going to have?”
“I’m not really hungry, just something light.” The thought of eating anything turned her stomach. “The crab omelet with cucumber and tomato salad, thank you.” Maybe if she ate something light, she’d feel better able to handle this ludicrous situation.
“And Norma and I will have the chili crab, thank you,” Xander added, calling the shots again. She shook her head slowly from side to side; she needed time, time to think this through. Surely it would be best to refuse to do the photo shoot, then Gran wouldn’t be on her own for a week and Xander wouldn’t appear a fool when the pictures weren’t good enough. But should she deprive him of the opportunity? It was obviously something prestigious. Why her, why oh why did he have to use her for the model?
“Xander, why can’t you use another model? It would be a much better solution all round. Gran wouldn’t have to manage on her own, you wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity, and I — ”
“And you could continue to hide,” he finished for her. “There are two reasons I can’t.” His wide grin took the sting out of his words.
She wished he wasn’t so ridiculously happy about the whole thing. Couldn’t he see what an upheaval it was causing? She had no idea what had possessed her to sign the entry form in the first place. Certainly she’d learned one lesson from it. Never, never again would she ignore the small print. “Two reasons?”
“Yes. Two reasons. Number one, the conditions of the contract are that the model should be the same as the winning photograph, and … ”
She could see the small pulse jumping on his temple. “And … the second?” There had to be a way around the conditions. What would happen if she were sick or run over or … or … anything.
“I want to photograph you.” He paused and turned his piercing eyes on her, watching her like some bird of prey. “Not anyone else but you.”
Right. A rather high-pitched giggle-squeal sneaked out of her mouth. “Me?”
“Yes, Jeanie, you. Not anyone else just you. You’re beautiful, hugely photogenic, and perfect for the idea I have.”
“Oh!” she squeaked as her grandmother’s hand squeezed her thigh, not in anger, in encouragement. How could she tell the difference?
“Jeanie. You must do it. For me. You would make me so proud.” Oh no. Gran had pulled out all the stops and it was so badly below the belt her stomach flinched in response. Not fair, Gran, not fair. She drew in a great breath, ballooning her cheeks, and let it out very slowly then relaxed back in her seat. “I haven’t got enough clothes.” One last try.
“There’s a five thousand dollar cash prize for spending money for the week. No excuse,” Xander quipped back at her. She raised her eyebrows at him and he nodded slowly.
“Okay. I’ll do it.” There, it was over. Now perhaps everyone would be happy. It would take care of the next twelve months mortgage payments on the café and all she had to do was get through the next week and it would be finished.
“Oh, darling, I’m so happy.” Those lovely, friendly, familiar arms wrapped tightly around her neck and she inhaled her Gran’s safe, secure, sweet lemony scent. She returned the kiss and they grinned at each other.
“Oh, I’m going to have all new pictures in the café. I might even change the name to Café Jeanie.”
“You can’t, Gran. It’s your café, not mine.”
“Okay then — Café Norma Jean then. Just like Marilyn.”