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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 Ideas is your creative talent, your professional attitude and your reliability. Impress them on those three levels and I feel confident that this job will be yours.’

      Jessie had to struggle to control the stirrings of excitement. No way could she afford to get carried away with false optimism. She’d been there, done that, and at the end of the day was always bitterly disappointed.

      ‘You talk as if I’m the only one going for this job,’ she pointed out. ‘There is another applicant, isn’t there?’

      ‘Er—yes,’ came the rather reluctant reply.

      ‘Well, presumably this person is just as well-qualified for this job as I am.’

      ‘Mmm. Yes. And no.’

      ‘Meaning what?’

      ‘Look, it would be very unprofessional of me to say anything negative about the other applicant. She is a client of our agency as well.’

      She. It was a woman.

      ‘But let me give you a hint when it comes to what you wear for your interview. Nothing too bright or too way-out or too overtly sexy.’

      Jessie was taken aback. ‘But I never dress like that. You’ve met me. I’m a very conservative dresser.’

      ‘Yes, but you might have thought that going for a job at Wild Ideas required you to present a certain…image. Trust me when I tell you that your chances of being employed there will be greatly enhanced if you dress very simply.’

      ‘You mean, in a suit or something?’

      ‘That might be overkill, under the circumstances. I would suggest something smart, but casual.’

      ‘Would jeans be too casual? I have some really nice jeans. Not ones with frayed holes in them. They’re dark blue and very smart. I could wear them with a white shirt and a jacket.’

      ‘Sounds perfect.’

      ‘And I’ll put my hair up. Down, it can look a bit wild. What about make-up? Should I wear make-up?’

      ‘Not too much.’

      ‘Right.’ Jessie speculated that the other applicant was possibly a flashy female, who tried to trade on her sex appeal. Not an uncommon event in the advertising world. Perhaps with Harry Wilde now being a married man instead of a playboy, he preferred to play it safe over who he hired these days. Maybe Nicholas was subtly advising her that the femme fatale type would not be looked upon favourably.

      ‘Is there anything else I should know?’ she asked.

      ‘No. Just be your usual honest and open self and I’m sure everything will work out.’

      ‘You’ve been

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