Her Not-So-Secret Diary. Anne Oliver
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a dream diary and they’d used it to work through her emotional issues. Her abused childhood, her failure as a woman. Even the fact that she’d sought help was still, to her, a failure.
She’d come a long way since arriving in Surfers but the past still haunted her at the oddest times. A word tossed out and she was back in her childhood purgatory, her disastrous marriage. Nightmares were few and far between these days but she still recorded her dreams. A security thing, she supposed.
At least Jared had taken the hint and not pursued further conversation as the car sped south. It gave her a moment to shake off the bad. The bad was gone, over, done, she reminded herself. As Roma had told her at her final session, good times ahead. And that was what it was all about, right? Refocusing on the present, Sophie resumed her attention to the upcoming meeting.
She reread the document on the screen for the umpteenth time. She couldn’t remember a darn word. It was as if her mind had shut out everything except her awareness of the man beside her. Right now his forearm relaxed on the steering wheel. Suntanned, sprinkled with dark hair and sporting an expensive-looking watch, ropes of sinew shifting as he swung out from behind a truck and changed lanes.
She jerked her eyes back to the screen. This infatuation, or whatever it was, was not going to get her paid at the end of the day. She reminded herself he was unavailable. Involved with someone else. Focused on family and his high-flying career. And most important: she wasn’t interested in getting involved.
It should have been easy to push it aside and if it hadn’t been for that stupid dream this whole attraction thing never would have happened. Would it?
‘No special guy, then?’
The question asked in that deep voice jerked her out of her self-talk and put her immediately on the defensive. She focused her gaze on the road ahead. ‘I don’t see how having a man in my life is relevant to my ability to do my job.’
He was silent for a beat, as if considering her snarky response. Then he said, ‘I generally find women in steady relationships make for more stable employees.’
‘Only women?’ How sexist was that? But she didn’t say it. She’d done enough damage in the past twelve hours. She just wanted to do her job with a minimum of fuss and attention and get paid at the end of the day. Then she never had to see him again.
‘Rest assured, I have a strong and committed work ethic, Mr Sanderson—Jared. And while we’re on the topic, how about women in no relationship?’
And why the heck had she said that? Was her subconscious trying to get her into trouble?
With smooth efficiency, he overtook a shiny red Porsche. ‘Which category do you fall into?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It might.’
A sharp excitement stabbed through her, followed closely by one of anger. She forgot her decision not to look at him. His profile—his very strong, very masculine profile—betrayed no clue as to what he was thinking. ‘What do you mean “it might”?’
What about Melissa? Did he think she’d forgotten? Not noticed? No matter how gorgeous his looks, no matter what she’d fantasised, she did not play the other woman. She knew how it felt to be left for someone else.
‘I need to know whether you’re expected home this evening,’ he continued as they neared their destination. ‘I missed work yesterday, which means we’ll need to work late tonight to catch up.’
‘Oh.’ The barely audible word escaped her lips as the implication sank in. Just him and her alone in his office. To catch up on work. How ridiculously foolish and pathetic she was, to have assumed he’d had something more on his mind.
‘No one’s expecting me. I live alone.’ She hoped her face wasn’t as pink as it felt. Still, it wouldn’t have mattered since he didn’t even glance her way.
‘You don’t have other plans, I hope.’
‘No.’ And from his tone she rather gathered that she’d have had to cancel if she had. Pam had warned her the man was work-driven and focused and expected the same of his staff.
‘Which reminds me.’ He indicated his phone on the console between them while he adjusted his earpiece. ‘Get Melissa for me, please. She’s on speed dial.’
‘Melissa.’ Her stomach dipped, clenched, but she did as he requested, then turned away and watched the scenery slip by. High-rise apartments and businesses interspersed with strips of green and pandanus trees and now glimpses of blue sea. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel uncomfortable.
‘Lissa, hi, it’s me. I won’t be home for tea, I’m working back.’ Brisk and to the point. Pause. ‘I don’t have time to talk about that now, Liss. I have someone with me.’ He lifted his sunglasses to rub the bridge of his nose. ‘Later. And tell Cryssie I’ll call by the hospital tomorrow for sure. Yeah. Bye.’
Sophie couldn’t pretend she hadn’t heard the conversation. The way that smooth tone had roughened with something that sounded close to exasperation.
‘My sister,’ he muttered.
A tiny shiver danced down her spine and she remained motionless a moment, lips pressed together to stop the smile threatening at the corners of her mouth and trying not to feel ridiculously … what? Pleased? Excited? Delighted?
She shouldn’t be feeling any of those things.
Leather creaked as he shifted in his seat. She saw the movement from the corner of her eye, saw him glance at her as he exhaled an impatient breath through his nostrils. ‘I fail to see the humour. Ever tried reasoning with a seventeen-year-old girl?’
Her smile bubbled over into a laugh and she glanced his way. Clenched jaw. Hands a little tight on the steering wheel. Speedo a little high as they cruised along the esplanade and into Coolangatta. ‘Can’t say I have. But I’ve been one, so I can tell you it does get better.’
He made some non-committal noise as he pulled to a stop outside a four-storey apartment block and switched off the ignition. ‘It can be a challenge at times.’
He spoke as if he were Melissa’s parent rather than her brother. Or maybe it was just that brothers were never meant to get along with their sisters. Yet she knew that wasn’t true. The dysfunctional household she’d been brought up in had tainted and distorted her perception of family life and love.
‘Do you have siblings?’ His voice interrupted her thoughts.
‘A brother. In Melbourne.’
Somewhat surprised by her instant switch from bright and chirpy to gloom and doom, Jared reached for his jacket on the back seat. ‘You’re not close?’
She followed his lead, gathering her bag and laptop. ‘I haven’t seen him in years, so no.’ She peered through the windscreen at the nondescript grey building behind a cyclone fence. ‘This is the place?’
‘Yep.’
Jared had been itching to get another good look at her since they’d left Surfers but the traffic had been snarly and required his full attention. Now he took a moment. The brandy-coloured eyes had lost that desperation he’d seen in his office and he doubted the hint of blush on her high wide cheekbones was make-up—more likely her natural colour. And her lips … they were something else. Full, luscious-looking and caramel glossed … they promised to taste as sweet.
Damn it, not now.
He reminded himself this wasn’t a date, ordered his unruly body to cooperate and forced his attention to the building in front of them while he rolled down his sleeves. ‘You have to think potential, Sophie.’
He’d made his fortune by seeing possibilities and making them happen. He’d been a millionaire at twenty-seven because he dared to dream and didn’t let others tell him it wasn’t possible.
‘I’m