Home > The Master Player(39)

The Master Player(39)
Author: Emma Darcy

‘No, you can’t. You have no idea. You’re a babe in the woods in this business. Max Hart will exploit you for as long as you’re starry-eyed with him. You have to understand his interest in you won’t last, and if I’m not at your side to make sure there’s no fallout damage, you could sink without a trace. If you’re clued in you can use this affair with him as a stepping stone. You’ve got to learn how to use your head, baby! I can teach you, show you how to work the angles…’

Revulsion created waves of nausea through Chloe’s empty stomach. The strident voice went on, spelling out how she could use Max to advance her career, to extract as much as she could from him while the affair was still running hot, because it would end…

It would end…

‘Stop it!’ she screamed, unable to bear hearing any more.

‘Chloe, this is why you need me,’ her mother argued. ‘Let me in, baby, so we can talk it through. I’m your mother. I’ll always be here for you. You need me.’

‘No!’ Chloe clapped her hands over her ears. ‘I’m going inside now. Leave me be, Mother, or I will call the police.’

The voice kept trying to beat at her mind as she bolted away from the fence, almost tripping over Luther, who was scampering around her, distressed at her distress. It was a relief to reach the door into the kitchen, even more of a relief to close herself inside the house. She pelted up the stairs to her bedroom, stripped off her clothes, crawled into bed, buried her face in the pillow and dragged the bed-covers over her head, shutting out the rest of the world and everyone in it.

She didn’t care if it was hiding.

Sometimes hiding was the only way to fend off the unbearable.

Max waited for Chloe’s call all afternoon, growing more and more tense as the silence from her continued. It wasn’t in her nature to break a promise. Had the meeting with Tony stirred such deep mental and emotional turmoil that contacting him felt wrong to her? Whatever was going on, Max couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on the losing end of it.

By five o’clock he was determined on confronting the situation. He drove to her house. She didn’t answer the doorbell. Luther didn’t bark at it, either. It suggested she had gone out and taken the dog with her, possibly for a walk in the park. He crossed the street. It took him half an hour of criss-crossing Centennial Park to assure himself she wasn’t there. Totally frustrated at this point, Max whipped out his mobile phone and called her, only to be frustrated further by finding hers was switched off.

He returned to the house, rang the doorbell again. No answer. Chloe had given him a key for his convenience if she was occupied when he arrived at her door. This was not an expected visit and Max was reluctant to use it without her implicit permission. Invasion of privacy did not sit well with him, yet the possibility that something might be badly wrong inside could not be ignored. More accidents occurred in the home than anywhere else.

He unlocked the front door, opened it. As he stepped into the hallway, a low growl alerted him to Luther’s presence. He looked up. The dog stood at the top of the stairs, stiff-legged and bristling, ready to leap into attack until he recognised Max. Then he relaxed and trotted off in the direction of Chloe’s bedroom.

Was she asleep? At this hour of the day? Sick? Too ill to move?

Max closed and relocked the door, moved quickly and quietly to the staircase. Conscious of his heart beating much faster than normal, he mounted the stairs two at a time, anxious to check out the situation, do whatever was needed to be done.

She was in bed. Clothes were strewn carelessly around the floor as though getting them off had been her one thought. Only the top of her blonde silky hair was visible above the bed-covers. Her body was tightly curled up beneath them. Luther had nestled himself on the pillow next to hers, obviously intent on being as close as he could, waiting for her face to emerge as well as guarding against her being disturbed.

Max stood beside them for a while, listening to Chloe’s breathing. As far as he could tell it was normal. He resisted the urge to strip off his own clothes and join her in bed, not for sex, simply to hold her close and assure himself everything was still right between them. But he knew it wasn’t right. She had shut him out. Whether it was a deliberate act or an emotionally fraught one he had no idea. Either way he intended to fight the decision.

He pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed-man and dog both waiting for the most important person in their lives to stir, to respond to them again.

Chloe moved sluggishly towards consciousness. Her eyelids felt too heavy to lift. It was easier to leave them closed. She might slide back into oblivion again. The memory of crying herself to sleep made a blank nothingness more desirable than having her mind recall the reasons for her misery, starting up another tormenting treadmill of thoughts. Better to keep them blocked out.

She took a deep breath and wriggled into a different position, frowning as she realised there was other movement on the bed. Then a small wet tongue licked her forehead. Luther! Had she slept a long time, missing on giving him dinner? It was wrong to keep indulging herself if he was hungry. He’d been such a good guard dog.

She dragged an arm up, pushed the bed-covers away from her head and affectionately ruffled the fur behind Luther’s ears. ‘It’s okay. Mummy’s waking up, baby,’ she mumbled, slowly forcing her eyes open.

‘I’m here, too.’

Max’s voice-deep and gravelly, wanting his presence known and acknowledged.

Her eyelids flew up.

He was sitting on a chair beside the bed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his dark riveting eyes scanning hers anxiously. ‘I was worried about you, Chloe, so I let myself in.’

She grimaced, remembering her promise to call him. ‘Sorry. Should have phoned. My mother came and…’

‘She came here?’

His sharp concern brought back the whole horrible barrage of advice. ‘I won’t do it,’ she muttered fiercely.

‘Do what?’

She hauled herself up to a sitting position, hugging her knees as she viewed the man she loved with rueful eyes, answering his question with blunt honesty. ‘Screw all I can get out of you while you’re still enjoying a relationship with me.’

He straightened up in his chair, his face tightening with grimly held anger. ‘You shouldn’t have let her in, Chloe. Shouldn’t have listened to her.’

‘I didn’t let her in. But it’s a bit hard not to hear her when she’s shouting at you over the back fence.’

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