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He hung up, turned the key in the ignition and glanced around before pulling away from the curb, to make sure there were no motorbikes in sight.
Leah was waiting on her front veranda when he pulled up. His heart did a slow, painful roll in his chest at the sight of her. She gave him a shaky smile as he stepped up onto the veranda and he pulled her into his arms, pressing his mouth to hers with hot urgency.
“Inside.”
“Mm, kay.” Leah walked backwards, keeping her arm around his neck, scrabbling for the door handle behind her and pulling him into the house.
A long while later, as they lay in Leah’s bed, she said, “So what’s this plan you’ve got?”
He told her.
“You’re going to go away?”
“Yeah. I can’t see any other way. I need to go to Sydney anyway, meet up with the guys in the band. Sort some stuff out with that. While I’m there, I’ve got an old friend I can catch up with. Take her out, make sure we’re seen.”
She pushed up, looking down at him, a frown on her face.
Callum reached up and rubbed his fingertip against her frown. “I won’t do anything with her. It’ll just be for show.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking. But it’s nearly New Years Eve. You won’t be here for it.”
He smiled, feeling relieved. “I’ll make sure I am, how’s that?”
“Okay.”
“All I need is for a few people to let the fuckheads know that I’ve left town. That they’ve never seen you here before. That I’ve got a different woman with me every other month. They’ll lose interest, leave town, and you’ll be fine.”
“You really think this’ll work?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
She sighed, dropping her head back on his shoulder and snuggling in.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Callum left for Sydney early the next morning. He’d asked everyone to meet at Nora and John’s to let them know the plan. He needed Mikayla and John to spread the word. The only way this could work would be a few select people letting the paparazzi know he’d left town and making sure they believed that Leah was a casual fling. Mikayla had set to work immediately, making a list of who she thought could carry it off. Evan,the butcher, of course. Not Terry, the newsagent. Oooh, yes, Janie from the barber shop. Mikayla had chuckled to herself as she wrote that name down. Janie loved a good gossip and could be trusted to keep rabbiting on for half an hour.
As Callum drove to Sydney, he had time to think. His mind drifted, inexorably, to Leah. The talk about making sure the paparazzi believed his relationship with Leah was casual had forced him to ask himself what he thought their relationship actually was. Definitely more than casual. But not really committed, either. He cared about her, no question. Really enjoyed sleeping with her, obviously. But he also really enjoyed spending time with her. For someone who had started out so shy and quiet, she was a bit of a revelation now. She had a great sense of humor and was often witty and irreverent with it. She was also much stronger than she gave herself credit for. And she was so talented. Another thing she didn’t give herself enough credit for.
Callum blew out a breath. He already knew all this about Leah. None of it was new information. In spite of all this, though, he’d been holding back. He knew it. He guessed that Leah knew it. It was so like Leah to not push him about it, too, which was a fact he’d been taking advantage of, like a grade A asshole. He was nothing but a coward. She deserved better. Maybe when all this was finished with, he would have the chance to think it all through properly.
Part of Callum’s master plan was to set up a diversion, to draw attention away from Leah. With that in mind, he had got in touch with an old friend, someone used to the limelight, to help him out. He’d arranged to meet Diane at an upscale restaurant near the bay. She was already there when he walked in and she rose to her feet as he approached the table. She was a statuesque beauty, with long, silky black hair and green, almond shaped eyes. A retired lingerie model, she had a knockout figure and was dressed to impress in a slinky, red dress.
“Hey,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips, as arranged.
“Hi. You look great.”
“Thanks.” They sat down at the table in the window, overlooking the street.
“The tip off worked. There are three guys outside at this very moment, cameras focused right on us. Good job.” Callum said, as he signaled the waiter to order a bottle of red wine.
“Perfect.” She reached over and took his hand, playing up to the cameras. “But I’m desperate to know what all this is about.” Callum waited as the waiter poured the red wine into his glass, tasted it and nodded his approval. “But before we get into that. How’s Jackson?”
Callum looked at her for a long moment. She’d had a fling with the Odyssey drummer a few years back. He’d broken it off, telling her that a committed relationship was too hard with all the touring and promotion they were doing. She’d spent an evening crying on Callum’s shoulder, then pulled herself together with a “fuck him,” and moved on with her life. Or so Callum had thought. Since this was the first question out of her mouth, he was guessing maybe not. “Single.”
“Right. Not that I care.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder.
“Of course not.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned. “Although, I know a little ditty about Jack and Diane…”
