jeans. ‘Mummy, are you listening to me? The phone’s ringing.’
‘What? Oh, yes. Thanks, sweetie.’
Jessie dropped the wet T-shirt she was holding back into the clothes basket and ran across the yard towards her back door.
Goodness knew who it would be. She’d already rung Jack first thing this morning to put in a verbal report about last night, petrified at the time that he’d know she was lying.
She’d made up her mind overnight to give Mr Marshall the benefit of the doubt and only tell Jack about the incident with the blonde, and not the conversation that had happened later. She’d already wiped that part off the video as well.
But no sooner had she told him that she’d witnessed the target turning down a proposition from an attractive blonde than Jack had stunned her by saying he wasn’t surprised, that the wife herself had rung that morning in a panic to say that he could keep the money she’d already paid, but that she didn’t want her husband followed any more. It had all been a mistake and a misunderstanding. He’d come home last night and explained everything and she was very happy.
At which point Jack had added smarmily that he could guess what had happened in the Marshall household last night.
‘I can always tell,’ he’d joked. ‘The wives’ voices have a certain sound about them. A combination of coyness and confidence. Our Mr Marshall really came good, I’d say. Like to have been a fly on their bedroom wall last night, I can tell you.’
That image had stayed with Jessie all morning—of her actually being a fly on that bedroom wall, watching whilst the man she’d danced with last night, the man who’d wanted her so desperately, was making love to his wife.
Jessie knew it was wicked of her to feel jealousy over a husband making love to his wife. Wicked to wish she’d been the one in his bed. Wicked, wicked, wicked!
But she couldn’t seem to stop her thoughts, or her feelings. She’d hardly slept a wink all night.
Now, as she dashed inside to the strident sound of the phone, she could still see the desire in his eyes, hear the passion in his voice, feel the need of his body pressed up against hers.
Had he been telling the truth when he said this was a one-off experience? That he’d never done or felt anything like that before?
She was inclined to believe him. Possibly, he’d been more intoxicated than he looked. Or he’d been too long without sex. Silly to believe that there’d been something special between them, right from the first moment their eyes had connected.
That was the romantic in her talking. Men thought differently to women, especially about sex. All she’d been to him was a potential one-night stand.
Maybe, after he discovered she’d done a flit, he’d been relieved. Maybe he’d rushed home in a fit of guilt and shame and genuinely made things up with his wife. Maybe he hadn’t simply used the desire Jessie had engendered in him to make love to a woman he didn’t feel excited by any more.
But why would he do that? For his children’s sake?
Perhaps. Christmas was coming up soon. A family should be together at Christmas. He did hate divorce. She’d heard him say so. And he’d toasted marriage.
Clearly, his marriage mattered to him.
She had to stop thinking about him, Jessie decided as she snatched the receiver down off the kitchen wall. Whatever happened last night, it was over and done with. She would never see the man again. End of story. Finis!
‘Yes,’ she answered breathlessly into the phone.
‘Jessie Denton?’
‘Speaking.’
‘It’s Nicholas Hanks here, Jessie, from Adstaff.’
‘Pardon? Who?’ And then the penny dropped. ‘Oh, yes, Adstaff. The employment agency. Sorry, it’s been a while since I heard from you.’
‘True, but, as I explained to you earlier this year, the market for graphic artists isn’t very buoyant at the moment. Still, something came up yesterday and I thought of you immediately.’
‘Really? Why me, especially?’ Any initial jolt of excitement was tempered by her experiences in the past. Recruitment people were, by nature, optimists. You had to take what they said with a grain of salt sometimes.
‘This particular advertising agency wants someone who can start straight away,’ the recruiter rattled on. ‘They don’t want to interview anyone who’s currently employed with another agency.’
Jessie’s heart sank. There had to be dozens of unemployed graphic artists in Sydney. Once again, the odds of her securing this much-sought-after job was minimal.
‘So which agency is it?’ she asked, refusing to get her hopes up.
‘Wild Ideas.’
‘Oh!’ Jessie groaned. ‘I’d love to work for them.’
Her, and just about every other graphic artist in Sydney. Wild Ideas was only small compared to some advertising agencies. But it was innovative and very successful. Run by advertising pin-up boy Harry Wilde, it had a reputation for promoting any graphic artist with flair to the position of creative designer, rather than head-hunting them from other agencies.
‘Yes, I thought you might,’ came the drily amused reply. ‘You have an interview there at ten o’clock Monday morning.’
‘Gosh, that soon.’ She’d have to ring the restaurant. Fortunately, Monday was their least busy day; if she rang early, they’d be able to call in one of the casuals, no trouble.
‘Can you start straight away, if you have to?’
‘Too right I can. But let’s be honest…Nicholas, wasn’t it…what are the odds of that happening?’
‘Actually, you have an even-money chance. We sent over the CVs of several people on our books yesterday afternoon and they’ve already whittled them down to two. You’re one of those two. Apparently, they’re keen to fill this position, post-haste, and don’t want to waste time interviewing all the would-bes if there are could-bes. I remember your portfolio very well, Jessie, so I know you have the talent required. And you interview very well. Frankly, I was very surprised you weren’t snapped up for that art job I sent you along for earlier on in the year.’
Jessie sighed. ‘I wasn’t surprised. Regardless of what they say, some employers are dead against hiring a single mother. They don’t say so straight out, but underneath they worry that you’ll want time off when your kid’s sick or something. I’m sure that’s been part of my problem all along.’
‘Jessie, your single-mother status is clearly stated on your résumé, which Wild Ideas has already seen. Yet they still specifically asked for you. Clearly, your being a single mum didn’t deter them, did it? You do have your little girl in full-time care, don’t you?’
‘Yes. But…’
‘But nothing. Your circumstances are no different from those of any other working mum, be they single or married. What will count with Wild
