‘Will you drink it with me?’
‘No.’
‘Then it has to be dinner.’
‘Fine.’ They shook on it. ‘But just as a friend, mind you. I’m . . . not really interested in you like that.’
‘Of course.’ He winked at her.
She felt heat travel up her neck as he walked off whistling.
That toilet better bloody well get the painters back on site.
She turned around to find Spooks looking at her.
‘So . . .’ His nose seemed to twitch. ‘You’ve got a date with Dipper.’
‘Not yet.’ She tossed her head. Dipper still had to make good on his promise.
He clicked his tongue. ‘So you want to go chat up Boy Scout next?’
‘No.’ She glared at him. ‘Will you drive me back now?’
He smirked. ‘Suppose.’
The truth was, she had no idea what she was going to do about Will or the revelation that had occurred on the wharf that afternoon. It was going to be a struggle just to act normal. When she met up with him after work that night, she didn’t tell him about her deal with Dipper. She tried to tell herself it was because of Trent – that she didn’t want Trent finding out about her dinner date. But it was just another self delusion because when her ex texted her just before bed with:
So any big plans this weekend?
She wrote back immediately:
Yeah, I got a date.
Trent didn’t respond to that and she was glad. She didn’t want to think about him or about Will. All she wanted was some ‘quiet time’ in her head.
The next morning at around ten-thirty, a truck arrived in the yard. She didn’t know how, but Dipper had come through for her and in record time too. He hopped off the back of the beeping truck as the driver reversed it into place.
‘One portable toilet, one lunch room,’ he announced, jerking his thumb over his shoulder with a grin. ‘I even got you a table and fridge.’
It was true. While small, the vacant office had a power point in it. They could connect the fridge Dipper had sourced. The grubby old trestle table wasn’t luxurious but it was functional. Pity there was no sink. But she supposed she didn’t really have time to be digging leach drains to accommodate that anyway.
‘Wow.’ She felt a rush of warmth towards her admirer as she examined the treasures he had brought her. ‘Thank you, Dipper. It’s all perfect.’
‘So are you.’ He smiled right back. ‘I’m looking forward to tonight.’
She wanted to curl up as his eyes eagerly appraised her from head to toe before he turned away. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?’
She couldn’t go back on her word now. Not after accepting the donga he’d gone to great lengths to procure.
‘Sure.’ She tried to infuse enthusiasm into her voice. It was just a meal. She could use the time to let him down gently. Explain to him that she’d just come out of long-term relationship and that as a couple they would never work out.
Dipper and a couple of men with him used the crane in the yard to take the donga off the truck. They set it on some stray concrete blocks that weren’t really meant for it. Emily knew that probably wasn’t the best thing to do and if they were doing this right she should have had some proper concrete footings poured. But who had the time to wait for them to cure? She wanted those painters back at work as soon as possible. By the end of the day her wish was granted. When the men from Queensland Coats saw what she had done they called their female teammates and let them know. Both girls would be back at work Monday. She couldn’t believe it. She was off the hook. In two days she’d be in the office doing what she’d come here to do.
As soon as she’d notified Caesar, of course . . .
Inwardly, she quaked. Shit! What have I done?
She came in from the yard to have lunch in the courtyard. She was so lost in her own thoughts about the upcoming confrontation that when Will pounced on her as she got out of her car she nearly jumped out of her skin.
‘What the hell is going on?’ he rasped.
She put a hand to her chest and concentrated on slowing her breathing. ‘Will, you scared the life out of me.’
He ignored her reprimand. ‘I thought we were going to the reef this weekend.’
‘We are.’ Her brow wrinkled in confusion.
‘Then why do you have a date?’
‘It’s tonight.’
‘Who with?’
‘Dipper.’
‘Dipper! You said you weren’t going to go there.’
‘Wait a minute. Who did you hear this from?’
From his wording and ignorance as to who it was, she gathered that he hadn’t heard the rumour on site. Hurt and distrust arced through her body like a whip. ‘Trent told you, didn’t he? You two have been chatting about me, haven’t you?’
His skin stained red but he neither confirmed nor denied it.
‘I thought you said you don’t talk to him about me! That you didn’t want to get involved.’
‘He texted me,’ Will protested. ‘He wanted to know what was going on.’
She wasn’t listening to his excuses though. ‘Talk about a double standard.’
‘You’ve got it all wrong.’
But she’d already shut shop. ‘Just leave me alone, Will. I don’t owe you or Trent any explanations.’
‘Em –’
‘I can see whoever I want.’ She flicked her pointer finger around the car park and several interested construction workers stopped to grin and watch. ‘It’s nothing to do with either of you.’
On this cutting remark she stalked off. He didn’t join her for lunch. She ate on her own and felt miserable through every bite. She hated fighting with Will. She hated these new feelings she had for him. And she hated that he was more concerned about Trent than the fact that she was going on a date with someone new.
Emily came in from the yard early that day, about half an hour before knock-off. She wanted to square things away with Caesar so she wouldn’t be worrying about it on her day off. She was also hoping to see Will around. Try to patch things up or something. Were they still going to the reef the next day? She didn’t want to stay mad at him forever.
Unfortunately, he was nowhere in sight.
With no best friend to stall her, she found herself standing outside Caesar’s office, feeling all her daredevilry melting away. Yesterday, her bold move had seemed smart and worth it. Today she felt like she was about to confess an act of terrorism to the US president.
She knocked.
There was a lengthy sigh from within.
Great! A good omen, just for a change.
‘Come in.’
When she walked in, Mark was standing by the window. He was gazing unseeingly out at Augustus’s pen, holding a piece of paper that looked like it had been opened and folded many times over. As if to prove the theory, he refolded it now – twice in half – before placing it in his shirt pocket.
‘So,’ he said, voice deadpan, ‘turns out you’re a rather resourceful young lady. I take it you’ve come to tell me that you’re no longer needed in the yard.’
She swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’
His mouth twitched. ‘When I wouldn’t listen to you, you sorted things out for yourself.’
She waited with baited breath. Was there actually an apology coming? Wow! She hadn’t dared to even hope –
‘Don’t do it again,’ he barked.
‘No, sir.’ She shook her head most vigorously. ‘Of course not.’
‘Rest assured, however, I will be paying much more attention to you in future. Obviously, it seems, you have an opinion worth sharing.’ He turned back to the window, gazing out at the same scene he had been studying earlier, though she had a feeling it was not Augustus’s pen that he was watching so closely. ‘I wonder,’ he mused, ‘if you might have some advice for me.’
‘Me, sir?’
‘Yes, I know, funny I should ask you, isn’t it? The new kid on the block, who can’t f
ollow orders and comes with a very lacklustre resume?’
Gee thanks.
‘But, believe me, I wouldn’t be asking you unless I’d been strongly advised to do so.’ He paused, looking up at the ceiling momentarily as if expecting his speech to be punctuated by some divine bolt of lightning. Nothing happened.
Confused, she also looked up at the ceiling but the plasterboard was an uncomforting, unmarked and undamaged white.
‘Emily,’ his soft voice recalled her attention.
‘Sorry, sir.’ Her gaze quickly flew back to his. He was amused, like a cat playing with his food. ‘I’m concerned,’ he began levelly, ‘about the level of drinking and depression on this job. I’ve seen you talking to many of the men at lunchtimes. Your ear is probably closer to the ground than mine is. Do any of the men confide in you?’
Her lips tilted wryly at that. ‘You could say so, sir.’
‘What is it they need? What do they want? What can I give them?’
‘Oh that’s easy, sir.’ She smiled. ‘What they need is therapy. And lots of it.’
‘Really?’
‘No, sir, I’m joking. I just meant that many of them, not all of course, seem to keep things bottled up. If they had someone to talk to about it, it might ease some of the tension around here.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘It would certainly free up my lunch breaks.’
‘Is that so?’
‘It was just a thought, sir.’ She looked at his reflective expression with some surprise. She hadn’t seriously considered that he would listen to anything she had to say – least of all some over-the-top suggestion that some of his men needed counselling. She might as well say he was running a loony bin and hand in her resignation now.
Seriously, Emily, do you think through anything you say?
‘But I can see your point.’ He nodded as he turned things over in his mind.
You can?
‘They need an unbiased third party to complain to. More improvements could lead from there.’ He looked approvingly at her. ‘I wouldn’t be the first project manager to hire a social worker to counsel his FIFO workers on a part-time basis. The problem is,’ he ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair, ‘it’s more work than I have time for right now. I’ll have to get head office involved to find some likely candidates. Then there’s the interview process. It’ll be minimum a month before anyone gets here.’
‘Really?’ Emily blinked and then a startlingly brilliant idea happened to tap on the side of her brain. ‘Actually, I happen to know someone who lives locally, is fully qualified and would love part-time social work.’
He turned on her with undeniable interest. ‘Is he any good though?’
‘It’s a she,’ Emily went on eagerly. ‘And of course she’s good. So good that she writes self-help books too. I’ve heard they’re excellent and based on some of her own life experiences, so very moving and inspirational.’
‘Really? Do you have her contact details?’
Emily took a deep breath, pleased to be so much help this morning. She smiled widely. ‘It’s Charlotte Templeton.’
Caesar’s gaze returned to that mysterious patch of ceiling. ‘That’d be right, wouldn’t it?’ he said quietly.
They were both mad at him – Em and his best mate. He’d completely stuffed up everything. In hindsight, there was a lot to be said for minding one’s own business. But when Trent had told him angrily that Em had a date this weekend and why hadn’t he mentioned it, the blood had shot straight to his temples. And not because he was angry for Trent’s sake. No, that emotion would at least have been rational.
Instead, he was up and off like a crazy person demanding answers and explanations like he had a right to be jealous. Which he didn’t.
Trent had been very clear about his intentions this time. ‘It’s made me realise the truth, mate. I need her. She’s my rock. I should never have let her go. Is there any chance you could convince her to come back to Perth?’
‘I think it’s a bit late for that now,’ he’d said in response. ‘She loves it here.’
Besides, he didn’t believe it was in Em’s best interests to give up the best job she’d ever had. Trent had seemed keen to argue about it at that point but he just wanted to get off the phone and find out what the whole ‘date’ thing was about.
As though that had helped his cause.
She’d told him to get lost in short order. And in all seriousness, he needed a reality check. Trent wanted them to get back together. And Em probably wasn’t over him yet either. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be doing crazy stuff like dating Dipper. That had rebound written all over it.
He had to give these two some time. Allow the dust to settle before he made any moves. The last thing he wanted was for Trent to think he betrayed him or for Emily to use him to get over his best mate.
So there he was, sitting in the office, resigning himself to his new friend patience.
His stomach was gurgling because he hadn’t eaten lunch and the guys on site were annoying the hell out of him. He was designing some temporary platforms for them to stand on while they worked on the drive tower. The problem was they needed the design yesterday. He had men coming in every hour asking, ‘Are you done yet? Are you done yet?’ Which not only stressed the hell out of him but made him want to punch them in the face, and a couple of times he nearly did.
It didn’t help that his concentration was shot to pieces over Emily’s dinner plans. Of all the crazy things he thought she’d do next, that was definitely not one of them. Over the years, he’d got used to accepting the fact that she was dating Trent. That she was off limits and forever more would be. But this!
This was different. There was no way in hell she was falling for Dipper of all people. But how could he stop her?
‘So I, er, heard about the bet.’
He looked up angrily to see who was addressing him and Nova immediately held up both palms in surrender.
‘Whoa! Did I say something wrong?’
‘What do you want, Nova? And before you ask, no I haven’t finished designing the platform and no you can’t have member sizes yet.’
‘Rest easy,’ he drawled. ‘I’m not after member sizes. I just want to know the latest instalment of this wharf’s hot new drama.’
‘I’m not in the mood, Nova.’
Nova ignored him. ‘I heard Dipper’s winning the competition. Gotta date with the little princess tonight. Impressed the hell out of her with some fancy new toilet.’
‘A toilet?’ Will’s eyes widened.
‘You don’t know anything, do you?’ Nova chuckled. ‘Apparently, she got Dipper to move a toilet and lunch room off the wharf to get the painters back in the yard. Worked a treat too.’
‘Why didn’t she ask me for help?’ he accidentally asked out loud.
Nova laughed. ‘So your nose is out of joint. I knew it!’
Will turned back to his computer screen petulantly and stared at his design model in annoyance.
‘You know what your problem is?’ Nova began knowledgably.
‘I know you’re dying to tell me,’ Will sighed.
Ignoring his lack of enthusiasm, Nova rolled across the room on his chair from his desk to Will’s. ‘You’ve put your relationship in a box labelled friendship and it’s been there so long you just don’t know how to get out. Make that leap, jump that moat.’
How true. And how misplaced.
Will turned back. ‘Nova, I don’t care what you think you’ve heard about this bet, but you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not going after Em.’
‘Why the hell not? Every man and his bolt cutter can see you’re more than half in love with her.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, she’s my friend.’
‘Exactly,’ Nova agreed. ‘And in order to get out of the friendship zone, you need her to see you in a new and different light. You need to show her sexy Will.’
‘What?’ Will shut his eyes and prayed for patience.
‘Do you know how to flirt, Will?
’ Nova asked thoughtfully. ‘I’m not talking about paying women compliments ’cause any dickhead can do that. AKA Dipper. I’m talking about getting under a woman’s skin.’
‘Okay, you need to stop now.’ Will lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Because now you’re just embarrassing yourself.’
Unfortunately, Nova did not agree. ‘I’m trying to help you. I think if you –’
‘She’s my best mate’s girl, all right!’ Will blurted. ‘They might be technically broken up right now but they’re going to get back together. I can’t go there.’
There he’d said it. The truth was out. That, at least, ought to shut him up.
It didn’t.
‘Why?’
Will remained silent.
‘Would he keep his distance if the roles were reversed?’
Will glared at him. ‘I don’t know. Probably.’
‘If he’s such a good mate, why don’t you ever talk about him?’
Because I’m too busy feeling guilty about wanting to screw him over. He shook the thought from his head and said tightly, ‘He’s in Perth. My focus is the project at the moment. That’s where it should be.’
Nova rolled his eyes. ‘Let me get this straight. He’s not really her boyfriend and he’s in another town but instead of seizing the opportunity you’re being a Boy Scout – all noble and shit. For crying out loud, Will. One of these days, you’re going to have to take some prisoners.’
‘Not today.’ Will pushed a drawing he had marked up in red across the desk towards him. ‘Here are the final member sizes for the platform. Can you knock that drawing out in an hour? I’m pretty sure that’s when Spooks will come back in nagging for it.’
He stood up, gathering another wad of drawings from another file.
‘Where are you going?’ Nova demanded.
‘To inspect the concrete slab for the pour tomorrow.’
The truth was, he’d already checked all the reinforcing in the drive tower first-floor slab that morning. But he couldn’t stand being in the office a second longer, especially if Nova was going to persist in giving him unwanted advice. Before his friend could protest he grabbed his hat off the filing cabinet and walked out. Breathing in the sweet tropical air, his heart rate began to slow, his blood pressure dropped and he stopped sweating.
The Girl in the Yellow Vest Page 19