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‘OK. I’ll look forward to meeting you at four. Just ask at the front desk and they’ll direct you to my office.’
‘Thanks again.’
Natalie sat in a daze, wondering what was going on. Lyn’s friendly attitude couldn’t be Damien’s doing. He would have no reason to suppose she would get in touch with his ex-wife, no reason to ask any favours for her sake. Lyn had to have reasons of her own for setting up a social get-together.
Which brought Natalie to the loaded question...had Damien deceived her about his current relationship with his ex-wife? What had been going on there, between the brief affairs he’d had with other women?
She frowned, wanting to believe what he had told her. Perhaps their recent meeting was one of the rare occasions he had mentioned. Natalie told herself she would find out soon enough, so there was no point in worrying about it.
Female pride prompted her to dress and groom herself to her best advantage. She was going to meet a woman whom Damien had presumably loved. Not that she was competing, she told herself severely, but she would feel much more confident if she looked good. Professional. The white linen suit was simple and elegant and shaped very nicely to her figure. Natalie was satisfied it was an appropriate choice for the occasion.
At four o’clock she was ushered into a work-efficient office that was crowded with filing cabinets and a large desk loaded with stacks of folders. Lyn Chandler looked very much at home in a hive of industry. She radiated vitality as she rose to greet Natalie.
She was a chic blonde, her hair cut in a short, fashionable bob that suited her pretty face. Deep dimples in her cheeks somehow made her smile infectious. Her eyes were striking: large and long-lashed, with light green irises ringed with brown. She was tall and slender and looked very stylish in a form-fitting beige skirt and tan silk blouse. Her perfume was more spicy than floral, a sharp rather than a soft scent, perhaps an assertive statement that she was a woman who chose not to conform to others’ expectations.
Natalie had no problem imagining any man being attracted to Lyn Chandler. She would light up anyone’s life with her smile. She also exuded warmth and caring interest, so much so that Natalie couldn’t help thinking it had to be Damien’s fault that the marriage had broken up.
Lyn enthused over Natalie’s portfolio and asked a lot of questions, drawing her out about previous artwork, training, ambitions, and the children’s book she was illustrating. She made notes and expressed the opinion that an article could be worked around unusual art-forms and the women who were creating them. Natalie could expect a follow-up call for an interview when arrangements were made.
Business satisfactorally completed, Lyn invited Natalie to share a taxi to the Intercontinental Hotel, where they both relaxed in the Cortile, a casual lounge area where both snacks and drinks were served and background music was supplied by a pianist stroking the keys of a grand piano.
Lyn ordered two gin and tonics, two double brandies, and triple vodkas. Natalie swallowed her astonishment and made no protest, although she privately considered so much alcohol excessive. It might, however, loosen Lyn’s tongue, which was all to the good.
A dish of mixed nuts on their table provided nibbles. Natalie scooped up a few cashews, biding her time until the drinks arrived, making appreciative comments on the décor around them. The waiter returned with their order. Lyn disposed of her gin and tonic as though it was lemonade. Natalie decided this was as good a time as any to open the conversation she wanted.
‘I didn’t know you saw much of Damien any more,’ she prompted.
Lyn laughed lightly. ‘Oh, I saw him as recently as Saturday. Damien always has time for me. I needed a shoulder to cry on. My ex-live-in and I had a fallout.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Natalie said sympathetically, hiding her unease at the familiarity that apparently remained between ex-husband and ex-wife.
‘He is now definitely ex,’ Lyn said with satisfaction. She smiled. ‘It makes a difference to Damien.’
Natalie tensed, unable to control the alarm that shot through her heart. Had Lyn been using her live-in lover as some kind of lever to wring some concession from Damien? She sipped her gin and tonic, refraining from comment, waiting for Lyn to elaborate.
‘I could never rely on Julian for anything,’ she said, shrugging a contemptuous dismissal of the man she had lived with, ‘and I’m tired of always having to manage everything for myself. I now realise I need someone solid and dependable and stable. Like Damien.’
‘You mean...financially?’
‘That, too. But other aspects have priority now.’ Lyn picked up her glass of brandy and sipped it. She looked speculatively at Natalie as though sizing her up. ‘I don’t mind getting back with Damien,’ she stated with cool deliberation. ‘There’s still that spark of attraction between us. And now that he’s selling his business, he’ll have the time necessary for me.’
Natalie barely veiled her shock. ‘I thought you must have been disillusioned with your marriage to Damien. Wasn’t it you who commenced the divorce proceedings?’
‘I thought marriage to Damien was going to be fantastic. It was for a while. Mr Perfect, you know? I was madly in love with him.’
‘So what went wrong?’
She laughed easily. ‘He had the bad habit of working long hours, and taking business trips at the drop of a hat. I felt neglected. I hated coming home to an empty house. It was miserable and lonely. He defended it by saying he was making money for us. But if he rang, and I was out with Brett or some other friends, he’d get testy about it. He wanted the little woman at home waiting for him, and that simply wasn’t my idea of bliss.’
‘It sounds as though he might have been more considerate,’ Natalie volunteered, wondering if Damien had enjoyed the company of friends while he was away.
‘Considerate!’ Lyn rolled her eyes. ‘Most people are content to pay off a house over twenty or thirty years. Not Damien. He had his mind set on getting the house paid off as quickly as possible so we could start a family without any debts over our heads. We couldn’t waste money on having a good time.’
A man who took his responsibilities seriously, Natalie thought, but that could be oppressive if taken too far. ‘You never went out together?’
‘Only when he could fit it into his schedule,’ Lyn tossed off dismissively. ‘It was nowhere near often enough for me. Life was boringly dull. Brett spent money as if there was a hole in the bucket. I hated being made accountable for what I spent out of our joint account.’
Natalie looked her surprise. ‘I wouldn’t have thought Damien was mean.’
