From Fling to Forever

‘All right, people, show’s over,’ Aaron said, and Ella realised he was telling their audience to get lost. He said something more specific to another man, who seemed to be in charge. She assumed he was pacifying the manager. She didn’t care. She just wanted to close her eyes.

‘Ella, your lip’s bleeding. I’m staying here at the hotel. Come to my room, let me make sure you’re all right, then I’ll get you home. Or to the hospital.’

She opened her eyes. ‘Not the hospital.’ She didn’t want anyone at the hospital to see her like this.

‘Okay—then my room.’

She wanted to say she would find her own way home immediately, but when she opened her mouth the words ‘All right’ were what came out. She ran her tongue experimentally over her lip. Ouch. Why hadn’t she noticed it was hurting? ‘My head hurts more than my lip. Did I hit it when I fell?’

‘No, I caught you. Let me …’ He didn’t bother finishing the sentence, instead running his fingers over her scalp. ‘No, nothing. Come on. I’ll help you stand.’

Aaron carefully eased Ella up. ‘Lean on me,’ he said softly, and Ella didn’t need to be told twice. She felt awful.

As they made their way out of the bar, she noted a few people looking and whispering, but nobody she knew. ‘I’m sorry about this,’ she said to Aaron. ‘Do you think anyone knows you? I mean, from the television show?’

‘I’m not well known outside Australia. But it doesn’t matter either way.’

‘I don’t want to embarrass you.’

‘I’m not easily embarrassed. I’ve got stories that would curl your hair. It’s inevitable, with three semi-wild younger sisters.’

‘I was all right, you know,’ she said. ‘I can look after myself.’

‘Can you?’

‘Yes. I’ve been doing it a long time. And he was harmless. Tom.’

‘Was he?’

‘Yes. I could have managed. I was managing.’

‘Were you?’

‘Yes. And stop questioning me. It’s annoying. And it’s hurting my head.’

They were outside the bar now and Aaron stopped. ‘Just one more,’ he said, and turned her to face him. ‘What on earth were you thinking?’

Ella was so stunned at the leashed fury in his voice she couldn’t think, let alone speak.

He didn’t seem to need an answer, though, because he just rolled right on. ‘Drinking like a fish. Letting that clown slobber all over you!’

‘He’s not a clown, he’s an engineer,’ Ella said. And then, with the ghost of a smile, ‘And fish don’t drink beer.’

He looked like thunder.

Ella waited, curious about what he was going to hurl at her. But with a snort of disgust he simply took her arm again, started walking.

He didn’t speak again until they were almost across the hotel lobby. ‘I’m sorry. I guess I feel a little responsible for you, given my relationship with Brand and Tina.’

‘That is just ridiculous—I already have a father. And he happens to know I can look after myself. Anyway, why are you here?’ Then, ‘Oh, yeah, I remember. The documentary.’ She grimaced. ‘Should I have known you’d be here now?’

‘I have no idea. Anyway, you’re supposed to be in LA.’

‘I was in LA. But now—It was a sudden decision, to come here. So it looks like we’ve surprised each other.’

‘Looks like it.’

Aaron guided Ella through a side door leading to the open air, and then along a tree-bordered path until they were in front of what looked like a miniature mansion. He would be in one of the presidential-style villas, of course. He didn’t look very happy to have brought her there, though.

‘How long will you be in town?’ she asked, as he unlocked the door.

‘Two weeks, give or take.’

‘So, you’ll be gone in two weeks. And I’ll still be here, looking after myself. Like I’ve always done.’ She was pleased with the matter-of-factness of her voice, because in reality she didn’t feel matter-of-fact. She felt depressed. She blamed it on the birthday.

Birthdays: misery, with candles.

‘Well, good for you, Ella,’ he said, and there was a definite sneer in there. ‘You’re doing such a fine job of it my conscience will be crystal clear when I leave.’

Hello? Sarcasm? Really? Why?

Aaron drew her inside, through a tiled hallway and into a small living room. There was a light on but no sign of anyone.

‘Is your son with you?’ she asked. Not that it’s any of your business, Ella.

‘Yes, he’s in bed.’

‘So you’ve got a nanny? Or is your wife—?’ Um, not your business?

‘Ex-wife. Rebecca is in Sydney. And, yes, I have a nanny, whose name is Jenny. I don’t make a habit of leaving my four-year-old son on his own in hotel rooms.’

Oh, dear, he really did not like her. And she was well on the way to actively disliking him. His attitude was a cross between grouchy father and irritated brother—without the familial affection that would only just make that bearable.

Aaron gestured for Ella to sit. ‘Do you want something to drink?’

Ella sank onto the couch. ‘Water, please.’

‘Good choice,’ Aaron said, making Ella wish she’d asked for whisky instead.

He went to the fridge, fished out a bottle of water, poured it into a glass and handed it to her. She didn’t deign to thank him.

She rubbed her forehead as she drank.

He was watching her. ‘Head still hurting?’

‘Yes.’

‘Had enough water?’