ection>
Dedication
This book has been five years in the making of some seriously late nights that included endless editing and story line changes. Procrastination and doubt usually followed, but here we are....finally!
To my rather large family, I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart for your tremendous support and encouragement. Without any of you none of this would have been possible. Especially my gorgeous daughter, who was often helpful when I needed her input, without her witty charm and brains on my off days, I would never have finished. I love you all to the moon and back.
To my helpers along the way including fellow writers, Sonia Freitas (Maria Bernard) and Bryn Donovan, (your book was and still is my bible!) without your help and advice this book would never have come to fruition.
Lastly, to my wonderful friends who've held the utmost faith in me throughout this tedious process. Love you xx
Authors Note
Trigger Warning
Contains themes of sexual assault, suicide and domestic violence.
Recommended for Mature Audiences only 18+
∞ Denotes change of POV
Chapter One
Teddy
DRAGGING THE curtains open, I scrunched my nose up as I saw what the day had to offer. The day looked dismal. Ugh.
Threatening, dove grey clouds were slowly drifting across the sky, turning what would’ve been a bright day, grey and chilly. The weekend had been fabulous too. I smiled coyly; in more ways than one. Oh well, the clouds will clear, and we’ll all be stripping off. Typical.
Melbourne was the only city I knew of that had four seasons in one day. It left me questioning whether moving to a warmer climate was the answer; North Queensland came to mind, then so had the saltwater crocodiles. I shivered, ew, no thanks, I think I’ll stick to Melbourne. Considering the unpredictable changes in the weather, living anywhere else was inconceivable, it was home.
As I stepped under the shower, the steaming water immediately warmed my chilled bones through. A feeling I relished in as I reached for the shampoo sitting in the niche shelf, pouring the loads required for my thick mane into the palm of my hand, my eyes sliding closed as I worked my fingers over my scalp. Somehow, I felt that my day would be different – and for the better. Call it intuition, a sixth sense, whatever, I just knew.
Once I’d finished showering and drying off, I wandered through the walk-in-robe, scanning the numerous drawers and racks for something to wear. Warm was preferable, considering the dismal weather outside. Admittedly, I had far too many clothes; to the degree, my wardrobe resembled a small fashion boutique.
Designed to be every woman’s dream, it wasn’t exactly small either. Glass fronted drawers with sectioned open racks, plentiful for hanging all my stylish dresses, skirts, and blouses.
Lately, my sister had been trying to poach one of the many pairs of heels I owned. We weren’t even the same size.
My job as a graduate architect at Bricks and Mortar Architecture didn’t require formal wear, thanks to my hunky boss, Spencer Hughes. He ran the business in a casual setting, making my life easier when it came down to choosing an outfit each day.
Donning a black lacy bra, matching panties, and a pair of cheeky thigh-high stockings, I started scanning the racks for a dress. In the end, choosing a black, long sleeve fitted jersey dress. Lastly slipped over my feet was a pair of black knee-length boots, the soft leather giving the extra warmth I needed on such a ridiculously chilly day. I grabbed a denim jacket, and a grey wool scarf, wrapping it around my slender neck as I made my way back to the ensuite bathroom to blow-dry my hair.
The house was relatively quiet as I left my bedroom and headed for the kitchen, my other favourite room in the house.
With marble benchtops, stainless steel appliances, a porcelain farmhouse sink and off-white shaker cabinets, the kitchen was a chef’s dream. As was the butler’s pantry, where I prepared my usual breakfast; a cup of earl grey tea and a bowl of oats drizzled with honey before the appearance of my roommates shattered that peace.
I spoke too soon and greeted them cheerfully, “Good morning, peeps.”
Pouring hot water into a prepared coffee cup, Scarlett groaned indignantly. “And what pray tell, Teddy, is so damned cheerful about a cold and rainy Monday morning?”
Too bright for some apparently.
Scarlett happened to be one of those three roommates, and coincidentally, my baby sister. She wasn’t unlike any other twenty-two-year-old I knew; she wanted to live life to the fullest and party while she was able to. Regardless of the fact she was studying a Bachelor of Nursing at university with dreams to work in paediatrics, our domineering parents, Evan, and Therese, always fought over the choices she made – or did not. Consequently, their nagging drove her away, forcing her out of their house and in with me.
I sat at the table and dug my spoon into the bowl. “It’s going to be a fantastic day. I can feel it in my bones.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes mockingly. “Always the optimist, sis.”
Unable to help myself, I raised a brow sardonically. “Well someone has to be Miss Misery Guts.”
“Who’s miserable now?” Dominique asked, sauntering into the kitchen. I giggled as her hands flapped sarcastically. “Oh, oh, I know Miss, don’t tell me! Only one person I know behaves in such a manner; a certain little Miss Sunshine with a cantankerous personality?” she said, averting her vibrantly blue eyes in Scarlett’s direction.
Scarlett glared. “Ha-ha, hilarious little Miss Wise Arse.”
Rising from the chair and slotting my dishes in the top rack of the dishwasher, I laughed. “Any case ladies, I’m off to work. See you all later!” I planted a quick kiss on my groaning sister’s head. “Have a good day, little Miss Grumpy.”
“Yeah, what ev,” she grumbled through a mouthful of muesli.
As I ran to my car in the driveway, a Holden Captiva, the skies opened, making me wonder why I’d even bothered with makeup that morning. I jumped in, barely avoiding the sudden downpour. My face now having the appearance of a panda, instead of the fresh look I’d initially done. With the rain coming down in buckets, the gutters quickly filled, overflowing onto the roads making the simple task of driving to work hazardous.
The trip to work was a nightmare. Dealing with impatient and angry drivers in the wet weather had me exhausted, already and it wasn’t even nine yet.
Bricks and Mortar Architecture, a relatively small firm, sat on the fifth floor of 101 Collins; a postmodern building situated centrally in the fashionable business district of Collins Street. Little cafés and stylish, upmarket boutiques surrounded the building, making it perfect for unique lunchtime shopping or a simple catch up with friends.
Taking up an entire floor, the light and airy office space with its eclectic warehouse interior made it a joy to work. With views to the busy streets and laneways, the roomy glass cubicles were comfortable enough for two
