by Len Webster
“I got paired up with a bloody idiot for my management strategies assignment. God, I hate my management classes. Not sure why I thought double majoring was a great idea.” Stevie sighed.
Ally opened the pantry door to find canned goods, pasta, herbs, spices, and cooking equipment. She moved around some cereal boxes to find pancake mix towards the back. Juggling her phone between her ear and shoulder, she reached out and grabbed the box.
“So what’s the real reason why you aren’t here at PJ’s with us?”
Ally froze.
The real reason.
She thought about it. The real reason included two things. One, her health. And two, Robert Moors. But she wouldn’t give Stevie them both in their entirety. No. She would give her roommate snippets. It would have to do. With a loud exhale, she pried her phone from her shoulder, spun around, and placed it on the bench. Then she put Stevie’s call on speakerphone as she stared at the pancake mix in her hand.
“I’m just tired. Thought I’d spend today in bed and enjoy it since I start work on Monday,” Ally explained. It was lame and not much of an excuse, but it would have to do.
Stevie groaned. “You’re such a liar. I know Rob took you home last night. What happened?”
“Nothing,” she muttered as she opened the mix. “Does Julian like pancakes? I’ve never cooked anything before, and I thought I might try to make some.”
“You’ve never cooked before?” She sounded surprised.
“Ummm, no. Not sure if you remembered but I kinda lived the sheltered, rich life,” Ally reminded. “So will you both be home soon?”
“You should come to the pub. Julian is ordering the Friday special. You should come and eat.”
Ally pulled out the plastic bag of powdered pancake mix and set it on the bench. “No, it’s okay. I want to do this cooking for me. You both have fun.”
“Ally.” Her voice lowered. “Seriously, what happened to you and Rob last night? He’s acting weird.”
“He kinda broke my heart,” she said, conceding defeat. “He kissed me and apologised for it. Then he left.”
“Oh, Ally. I’m going to—”
“No!” she blurted out. “You’re not going to do anything. I realised something.”
“And what is that?”
Leaning against the counter, she stared down at her phone. “I’m not here in Melbourne for Rob. I’m here for me. I thought he was different. He is … but he makes me feel like I don’t deserve a second of his time.”
“Ally—”
“And that’s okay. I just have to get over him, you know. Get over this stupid crush I’ve had since I met him. I’m gonna try to cook these pancakes and then go back to bed. I have a killer headache. I’ll see you later. I’ll save some pancakes for Julian. Bye, Stevie.”
“Okay. We’ll be home later. If you’re awake, we’ll watch a movie or something. Bye, Ally.”
Ally smiled and then pressed the ‘end call’ button. When she noticed she had an unread text message, she opened it up.
Serge: Miss O’Connor. It’s after 4 p.m. and you haven’t messaged me your blood pressure levels for two days now.
She frowned, the guilt adding pressure to her chest. She’d promised she’d text him every day. Ally had missed two days’ worth of medication, exercise, proper meals, and checking her blood pressure.
Ally: Sorry, Serge. I got a job! You shouldn’t worry, I’ve been checking. My bloody pressure is at 130/90. Stop stressing.
Lie.
She could have a blood pressure of 130/90, if she had checked. But she was too scared to. Since her bodyguard had given her the news of potential dialysis and transplant, she’d been afraid. A lower or higher blood pressure could be fatal. Her specialist had emphasised that she had to keep her blood pressure levels within the target. Too low or too high, and she’d need to see him straight away.
Serge: That’s good, piccola. Make sure you continue your exercise. Maintain that level. Have you taken your medication?
Ally: Yes, Serge. I have.
No, I have not.
The guilt now travelled down to her stomach and a knot formed. So she missed a couple of days; she was sure it wasn’t much of a problem. Tomorrow, she would get back to it. Exercise, healthy eating, proper sleep, and checking her blood pressure. Someday, she’d have the ideal level of 110/70.
Someday.
Serge: I’m proud of you. You keep healthy. The minute you don’t feel well, I’ll be in Melbourne. I will get you help without your father’s money.
Ally: I’ll be fine, Serge. I’ll text you later. I’m going to make pancakes.
Serge: Good night. Make sure you text me tomorrow, piccola.
Ally: I will.
When she exited Serge’s messages, Ally glanced at her left arm. The same arm her electronic blood pressure monitor device should have been around twice now. Tomorrow, she’d check her blood pressure. She couldn’t be afraid to see the numbers. She needed to stay healthy.
She needed to last six months.
It was Monday, her first day working at PJ O’Brien’s pub. All weekend, she had been reading up on drink recipes and learning them. She hadn’t seen much of Stevie or Julian. Stevie had an assignment due, and Julian had work. They did promise to stop by during her shift. So far, she had learnt how to work the register, where all the stock was stored, the menu, the procedures, and how to make the drinks she didn’t know. Ally eyed her work and when she was happy with what she had put together, she took a step back. Five perfect shots of tequila with slices of lemon on top. It wasn’t that hard. But getting the same level of alcohol was tricky. It had to be perfect and in line. That was what Mitch, her new boss, had instructed. The lemons had to be cut correctly, not too fat and not too thin. It had to be just right.
“As instructed, I have aligned all your shots accordingly.”
Mitch stepped towards her and inspected the five tiny glasses. “Seriously. Good job. They’re all perfectly consistent. How did you walk into my pub and magically have an RSA?”
Ally set the bottle down and smiled at him, trying to withhold the ridiculous grin that threatened from his approval. “I had an RSA from back home. I … uh needed one.”
Mitch straightened his spine and raised a brow at her. “How did you ever need an RSA?”
“When I used to do club appearances, I served alcohol. I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures. Heard all the rumours. It was one of the conditions. People used to come to these events for me to serve them drinks and take photos together,” she explained.
His mouth made an ‘O’ as he stared at her. “Your dad seriously made you do all that? How old were you?”
She shrugged. “The moment I turned eighteen, they made all my appearances official on social media and stuff. When I hadn’t hit the legal age, they used to sneak me in or they’d make the events private. I feel like I should assure you that he didn’t whore me around. Just in case you were wondering. He used to do this to Liam, too. He used us in the public eye. Well, he used me more because … Okay, so maybe I may have whored myself out.”
His green eyes widened. “What do you mean, may have whored yourself out?”
Ever since she had met him last year when she came to the pub with Stevie and Clara, she adored him. And adored him even more when he offered to hire her. But she wasn’t going to be one hundred percent truthful with him.
“I may have promised or gone on dates with men to get them to sign off on company deals with my father. I didn’t sleep or get to second base with any of them.” She paused and twirled a strand of her ash-blonde hair around her finger. She was ashamed to admit her past life. She wasn’t a good person for her behaviour. “I know it was morally and ethically wrong of me … You must think I’m such a whore.”
After a long moment, Mitch shook his head and his body relaxed. “If you’re a whore, I must be an award-winning porn star. So you went on some business dates. Shame those men didn’t get a home run.” He winked at her.
Mitch caught the cloth and set it back on the counter. “Seriously, a pretty girl with millions … How are men not all over that amazing ass of yours?”
Ally balled her fists. “Because all they see is the money and not the girl. Trust me. It’s lonely being an heiress. And it’s overwhelming being a socialite. I was blessed with being both.”
His hand settled on her shoulder. In a soft and caring voice, he said, “I know what it’s like to grow up rich and with all that expectation. But I can’t imagine what you have had to live with. In this pub and all of Melbourne, I swear you’ll never have to do any of that stuff again. You’re free here, Ally.”
He had no idea how much his words meant to her.
“Ally, what do you call a seagull that flies over the bay?”
She set down the cloth on the oak counter and looked at Mitch. It was closing in on seven p.m. and her ten-hour day was almost done. Being trained and working with Mitch made time seem irrelevant. She liked working, serving drinks, and taking food orders. She could do this job. Ally breathed out and asked, “What do you call a seagull that flies over the bay?”
Mitch grinned and retrieved the empty glasses from the counter. “A bagel!”
Ally chuckled and shook her head. “Wow. That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard and I live with Julian.”
“It made you laugh, didn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes.
Men and their need for validation.
“It was a pity laugh.”
“It still counts, Ally,” he stated, pointing at her.
Ally had conceded that she liked Mitch. His easygoing nature was something she wasn’t used to but welcomed nevertheless. It was what she needed.
“Can I get a Guinness?” Rob asked, interrupting them.
Ally knew all too well that the smile on her face had vanished.
Five words.
Those were the first five words he had said to her since Friday. Since the night he had kissed her and walked out on her. Ally turned and looked at him. All serious in his facial expression and his body language. Her heart had decided that it was a good time to remind her of the attraction she didn’t want.
Not like it matters.
I’m sure he hates me.
The thought caused her stomach to dip. She couldn’t get over the stupid kiss. The moment he pulled away and stalked out the front door, he hadn’t said another word to her. Her eyes fixated on the tight line of his lips. He had no idea how much he had hurt her. But she refused to let it show. She refused to let him affect her ever again.
“Rob, it would be so lovely to be asked nicely,” Mitch said with a teasing tone to his voice.
Rob grunted and stared at her, his light blue eyes boring into hers.
Oh.
There goes my resolve.
Traitor!
“Allison, could I please get a Guinness?” Rob asked. He appeared pained, like he was being forced.
Twelve words.
If she hadn’t seen the disgusted, regretful expression on his face after their kiss, she’d gladly get him a beer from the tap. But the humiliation and rejection stung so deep that she couldn’t forget it. Ally reached behind her and removed the black apron she wore.
“I’m actually off the clock. Mitch will get your drink,” Ally said and dropped her apron on the counter.
“I’ll sign you out. Thanks for today, Ally,” Mitch said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mitch.” She bent down and retrieved her phone and her small bag from the cupboard under the counter. Then she walked from behind the bar and towards the entrance, ignoring Rob’s questioning gaze.
She could wait for Stevie and Julian to pick her up, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t continue to be in the same room with Rob. It hurt. The humiliation still lingered, and it made her lightheaded. Ally had never taken the tram before, and yesterday, she had crossed off number three off her list. Buy a Myki card for public transportation. She had gone to the newsagent a few streets away and bought herself a card. She would put her newfound freedom to use.
The moment she stepped out of the pub, she sighed in relief. The cool air was salvation for her warming face. Ally would have to walk a short way to the tram stop to get back to the apartment. But as much as she wanted to take the tram, she didn’t want to go home just yet. She wanted to walk off the different emotions that bubbled inside her.
“Allison, wait!”
As much as she didn’t want to, she stopped at his command. Then she turned around to find him waiting outside the pub’s doors. The conflict in his eyes confused her more.
Fifteen words since our last kiss.
Look at that, enough to make a sentence.
“What?” she asked, annoyed at him and infuriated with herself for submitting to his damn commands.
“I don’t know how these things work. Do I … Do you … Need someone to …” he trailed off, looking down at his hands and giving up on his struggle with his sentence.
Twenty-nine words.
Barely a paragraph.
Ally took a deep breath. “Give it up, Rob. This whole ‘you have to be nice to me’ trick you’ve got going needs to stop. Whatever. I get it. I’m on that massive regrets list of yours. I would rather you ignore me than speak to me. It’s so much easier to live with the humiliation. Okay?”
She didn’t give him a second to speak. Instead, she turned back around and made her way through the car park and towards the street. She heard the pub doors close, and she knew he wouldn’t follow her. The sickly feeling of being a man’s biggest regret was new to her. She had only ever known a man’s interest in her, never his pity. Ally gripped her phone and slung her bag onto her shoulder as she trekked towards the tram stop. All she wanted to do was free her hair from its ponytail, remove her bra, and put on some pjs. And more than likely watch Tangled on Netflix until she fell asleep.
Her sulking was ridiculous. She didn’t want Rob’s affection when it hurt her so much. He was too closed off and guarded. She thought he felt the same as she did. That their long distance friendship was something he wanted, but it hadn’t been. Ally let out a huff and continued walking when a car drove past her, did a U-turn at the end of the street, and then stopped in front of her.
“Oh, great. This perve must think I’m a prostitute,” she muttered. She hugged herself as she walked past the car and ignored the window winding down. Ally knew how to handle perverts. The Cross had taught her well.
“Allison, please get in the car. I’ll take you home,” Rob said behind her.
Her heart warmed at his voice, but her brain caused her feet to continue to create distance between them, not answering him. She heard the car door open and close and then he caught up with her. Ally kept her eyes focused on the footpath as the sound of his car locking filled the night air.
“Then I’ll walk you home,” Rob mumbled.
That had her stopping immediately. Ally stared out at the streetlights in the distance. Then she untangled her arms and balled her fists.
“What happens when we get to my apartment? How are you going to get home if you leave your car here?” she asked, pointing out the stupidity in his plans. Ally peeked up at him to find him staring at her with a frown on his face.
“I’ll walk back to my car.” His answer was short and to the point.
She groaned and mumbled, “Idiot.”
His lips curved into a teasing smile. “I’m sorry, I missed that. Speak up, Allison.”
Ally took a sharp inhale and turned her body to face him properly. “I said ‘idiot,’ as in, you’re an idiot if you think I’m going to let you walk back here alone.” She pivoted on the balls of her feet and then stalked towards his car. When she reached the passenger side, she yanked on the handle.
“It’s locked, Allison,” he reminded.
Sh
e grumbled as he pulled his keys out of his jeans pocket and pressed the button to unlock his car. “Thank you. Now, will you please take me home? You almost spoke enough words tonight to have a conversation with me. The sooner I’m away from you, the better.”
Rob’s fingers curled around his set of keys as he watched Allison insert her key into her front door. She breathed out once the lock clicked and she pushed the door open. When she stepped into her apartment, Rob followed, only for her to stop him when she spun around and pressed her palm against his chest.
“Oh, no. You are not coming in here,” she stated.
He gazed down at her. “Okay.”
Allison’s eyes flashed. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he said as he took a step back. “I’m glad you’re home and safe.”
She glared at him, and her eyes searched his. When it appeared she had found whatever it was she was looking for, she exhaled. “Thank you for taking me home.”
“You know, I can take you home after every shift. If you’d like, I mean.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Alli—”
“Rob, I’ll be fine. I came to Melbourne for me. To do things for myself. I can get home on my own,” she explained.
Her stubbornness had him shaking his head at her. He knew he wouldn’t win with her. She had wanted to move to Melbourne for so long. And Rob, he hadn’t wanted that. He had been selfish. For the first time, he had conceded that he wanted her. He wanted her to be happy.
“I know you’re here in Melbourne for you. I don’t doubt that.” He smiled at her, hoping she saw the sincerity in the way his lips curved. “How are you feeling since Thursday? Still feeling sick?”
She averted his gaze, staring at her hands instead. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and shook her head. “I’m fine. Umm … Rob?”
Then her eyes met his and that hazel colour shone brightly at him. More greens and yellows than he had ever seen look his way. “Yes, Allison?”