Common Ground

by Wendy Smith

  “I’ll go and get it.”

  “Did Maggie pay you? She was sure she did, but …”

  I smile. “She paid me on Friday. We’re all square.”

  Dave turns to Josh. “It’s my granddaughter’s birthday.”

  “Happy birthday to your granddaughter,” Josh says.

  “I’ll pass that on. She’s a fan of yours.”

  I suppress an eye roll as I turn back to the kitchen. Of course she’s a fan. Everybody loves Josh.

  Stop being so bitter, Delaney.

  One by one, I take the boxes out to the front counter.

  “Do you need help taking that out to the car?” Josh asks Dave.

  “I think I’ll be fine. Maybe if you could grab the door?”

  “Sure thing.” He flashes the smile that worked on me so long ago. It seems genuine, and I’d like to think that it is, but I’m not so sure. He is an actor. And I’d thought I was special to him once only for him to stab me in the back.

  Josh crosses the room with Dave, and holds the door open for him before heading back to the counter.

  He sits on the stool and picks up his spoon. “Do you know what I like about your mother’s apple pie, Amelia?”

  She screws up her nose. “What?”

  He runs his spoon across the crust. “Well, the crust is nice enough. It’s not too tough, and it’s perfectly cooked. And the apple’s not mushy; it’s soft and yet firm. But the best bit?”

  I want to look away, but he fixes his intense gaze on me.

  “The best bit is that it’s sweet, but just a hint of sour. I love the sweet. Don’t get me wrong. But the sour is what keeps me coming back. I love the way it gently bites and keeps you wanting more.”

  I suck in a breath, and he holds me in his sights for the longest time.

  “I like the ice cream.” Amelia beams.

  Josh chuckles. “You know what? I do, too.”

  He ruffles her hair, and she laughs, and all it does is infuriate me.

  His gaze shifts back to me, and I look away. I can’t watch them together. It hurts way too much.

  We could have had all of this. A life together. A family. Instead I dealt with all the blows alone while he grew rich and famous.

  And now he’s waltzed in here as if nothing’s happened.

  I want him to leave.

  I want him to stay.

  What will happen when he leaves town? Will he forget we ever existed?

  I should intervene and make him go before Amelia gets too attached. But how can I do that with the way she watches him, entranced by the sight as he joins her eating pie and ice cream?

  She’s twisted around his little finger. I always knew she would be.

  “Hey, Delaney,” he says.

  I meet his gaze. “What?”

  “Are you sure your favourite Canadian is Ryan Reynolds?” he asks.

  I shrug. “What can I say? Deadpool won me over.”

  “Huh.” He smiles. “Guess I’ll have to work at regaining my title.”

  “I’m not sure that’s possible.” I sigh. “Ryan is pretty damn hot.”

  His eyebrows rise.

  “Very, very hot.” I shoot him a smug smile, all the while knowing it won’t be Ryan I’m thinking about tonight in bed. But he doesn’t need to know that.

  “I’ll work really hard then.”

  Our gazes lock, and I’m just so lost. I want to hate him, but I always knew if I saw him again it’d be like this. It just always was like this between us. We had this way of slipping into easy conversation even if it seemed like we were sniping at each other.

  “Mummy, I’m finished.”

  Melly’s voice shakes me out of my stupor, and I focus on her. “Good girl. I’ll get these plates washed and we’ll get out of here.”

  “What are you doing for the rest of the day?” Josh asks.

  “As little as possible.”

  “Want to come up to the house? Richard’s got this pretty kick-ass entertainment system and about a billion movies. I’m sure there’s something we can all watch.”

  It’s tempting. But then I look at Melly and steel my resolve. How can I be sure I can trust him? If he hasn’t worked it out already, then spending time with us will only bring that moment closer to him.

  And I’m not ready for that.

  “Thanks, but no. I’ve got so much to do at home before school and work tomorrow. I’ve already lost half a day working.”

  His expression falls, and I almost cave, but this isn’t any good for either of us. Once the movie’s finished, he’ll move on and leave us behind. There’s no point in getting too attached.

  No matter what my heart tries to tell me.

  “Another time?” he asks.

  “Maybe. We’ll have to see.”

  “I guess I should make my way back.” He says it, but doesn’t move, his hand lingering on the bench.

  I look at the door. “You didn’t run all the way from the house, did you?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I parked about two miles away. Just wanted to get some exercise.”

  “Fair enough.”

  An uncomfortable silence falls over us. I don’t know why he’s hanging around or wanting to spend time with us, and I don’t really want to ask him. I’m well aware that I’m sending him mixed signals, but when he’s nearby, my brain cells up and run away leaving me to fumble my way through our encounters.

  “I’ll see you again soon. I’d really love to catch up properly with you,” he says.

  I nod. “Sure.”

  “Bye, Josh,” Melly says.

  “Goodbye, Amelia. Have a good day at school tomorrow.”

  She beams, and with a nod he turns and walks out. Part of me wants to run after him and tell him that we’ll come with him, but instead I grip the counter and just watch.

  “I’ll just lock up and we’ll get out of here,” I say.

  Melly climbs down off the stool.

  I walk to the front of the store to lock the door and I spot it. Right outside on the ground is a plastic drink bottle.

  “Damn it.” I hate litter, and it’s been left there deliberately from the way it’s tucked against the building.

  I push open the door, and pick up the bottle. It’s full of water, which is still pretty cold.

  “That’s mine. Sorry. I forgot to grab it.”

  I turn at the sound of Josh’s voice. He’s running back toward me with a grin on his face. What the hell?

  “You conned me out of a bottle of water when you had this?” I wave the bottle in the air.

  “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

  Damn it. He’s using the dimples against me. Again. “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met.”

  “That’s a compliment, coming from you.”

  I hand him the bottle. “There you go.”

  When he takes the bottle, his fingers brush mine. And just like the first time that happened, there’s electricity between us. It tears at the heart he shattered six years ago. I spent so long putting it back together.

  Without another word, I turn, closing the door behind me and leaving him on the other side. The last time I cried over him was not long after Melly was born, and he’s not going to make me cry again, even if my eyes prick with tears.

  I lock the door and walk away. If I look back, I’m so scared I’ll cave. I’m not sure what he wants, but it sure as hell isn’t me.

  It never was.

  Forget selling it tomorrow. I take the rest of the apple pie home to eat for myself. It’s the least I can do after my day.

  How does he make me feel like this after all this time?

  If he didn’t want me then, why is he hanging around now?

  It’s so confusing. Right when I thought my life was sorted out.

  Melly climbs up onto the couch with me. She’s had dinner and her bath, and she’s in her pyjamas while I eat a big plate of pie and ice cream.

  “Want some?” I ask.

 
; She nods, and I pick up a spoonful and hold it to her mouth. She chews, and I wait until she’s swallowed.

  “Do you like Josh?”

  Melly nods again, snuggling up to my side. “He’s funny. And he likes pie, too.”

  “He sure does.” I feed her another spoonful, stroking her hair with my free hand. “I love you, Amelia Carruthers.”

  She beams up at me, still chewing, but her arms wrap around my waist and when she’s finished, she buries her face in the side of my chest.

  I’m such a mess. I can’t let him in, but I can’t stop myself. And I need most of all to protect her.

  I’ve been all tied up in knots and slipped into that familiar banter with him as if the years apart never happened. Nothing will ever come of it. I know that.

  So why am I full of hope?

  Thirteen

  Delaney

  On Monday, just after one, Jessie Lane walks into my diner.

  I’ve never forgotten the way she sneered at me when Josh and I were dating. He had three close friends back then. Reece was always with some girl or other, and I never got to meet him. Clarke was a sweetheart, more interested in Reece than me or Jessie.

  And Jessie was the one who made heart eyes at Josh whenever we saw her, completely ignoring me. Josh just never seemed to see her in that way, which left me a little surprised when I heard he was making this type of movie with her. It’s an odd move, unless they are actually seeing each other.

  The thought of that leaves me frustrated and angry.

  And it’s clear she has no idea just what she’s walked into as I step out from behind the counter and walk over to her booth.

  “You.” The word is so filled with hatred that it even takes me by surprise.

  “Jessie, isn’t it?” I can be bitchy too.

  “You know it is.”

  I shrug. “I can’t keep track of every extra they hire for these films.”

  Her eyes narrow. “I’m the star of the movie.”

  “I thought Josh was. Did you want something?”

  She draws in a breath and raises her nose in the air. “I want a Caesar salad. No cheese, no croutons, no anchovies. I don’t want any oil in it.”

  “Should I just get you a lettuce? It might be easier.”

  Her scowl makes me clamp my lips together to stop myself from laughing.

  I nod. “Got it. One Caesar salad missing all the flavour.”

  I turn and head toward the kitchen. Trina stares at me as I walk past her, and Pania’s right inside the kitchen door, snickering.

  “What was that?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “Jo just came in here and dragged me out the door. You’re the one who’s so big on customer service.”

  I laugh. “She’s not a customer. She’s a parasite who should have detached a long time ago.” Fluttering my eyelashes, I clasp my hands together. “Oh, Josh, you’re so big and strong, and I want you to be my boyfriend even though you’re clearly not interested in me.”

  Pania chuckles. “Like that, is she?”

  “I met her in LA. She instantly disliked me because Josh liked me. And she made her feelings really obvious. I’m not about to kiss her arse when she’s in my house.”

  She grasps my arm. “This is why we get along so well.”

  “Anyway, she wants a salad without any ingredient that might actually give it some taste. So, I’d best get onto that.”

  She just shakes her head, but I go to the fridge and take out all the ingredients, snapping on a pair of disposable gloves after I’ve placed them on the bench.

  I grab a bowl, pick up some of the romaine lettuce and drop it in.

  As I add the ingredients she does want, I’m cast back to an earlier time.

  “Jessie doesn’t like me.”

  Josh runs his fingers down my arms. “I don’t care what Jessie thinks. You’re the one I want, Dee.”

  My breathing grows ragged just at the heated look in his eyes. I’ve done the thing I vowed not to do on this trip. Fall in love.

  “I’m so crazy about my Australian barista.”

  I laugh. “I’m surprised you are. I’ve been told I never stop talking.”

  “Maybe I like to listen.”

  I splay my hand on his stomach as he leans over. When he kisses me, Jessie’s irritation is forgotten. She’s just not important.

  Time disappears, and our hearts are in sync.

  He growls when I palm his cock through his jeans. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

  “I changed my mind. My prerogative.”

  I’m not sure if it’s fair on either of us, but I’ve never wanted anyone like this before.

  “Delaney.”

  I look up to see Pania staring at me. For a moment, I’m a bit lost, and then I look down into the bowl and laugh.

  “Whoops. Got a bit distracted. Her salad’s tossed.”

  “Give it to one of the others to take out.”

  I shake my head. “Oh, no. This one’s mine.”

  Tipping the salad into a serving bowl, I strip off my gloves and pick up a set of cutlery. It takes everything to muster a smile, but I do it because I’m not about to show any weakness in front of this woman.

  I walk to her table, place the bowl in front of her, and lay the knife and fork, wrapped up in a napkin beside the bowl.

  She looks closely at the salad. “Is that it?”

  “I removed all the things you didn’t want. That’s what’s left.” I smile sweetly. “How about a drink to go with that?”

  Pania’s going to have to keep me away from the rat poison.

  “A Coke would be nice.”

  “Is that Coke, Diet Coke, Coke Zero, or Coke No Sugar?”

  She glares at me. “Just a Coke.”

  “Righto.”

  Turning on my heel, I take a Coke from the fridge, drop some ice into a tall glass and pour the drink.

  Dropping it off at the table, I look at Jessie. Her expression is still all screwed up, and she’s forking the lettuce one piece at a time.

  Deep down, I actually feel sorry for her.

  She seems miserable.

  I go back to the counter and retrieve a bottle of salad dressing.

  Without saying a word, I deliver it to her table and walk away.

  I’m not sure if she uses it, but life’s too short to not eat dressing on a salad.

  George walks in a little after two.

  Jessie’s long gone, and I’m in a much better mood. But the expectant way he looks at me tells me that there’s something coming.

  “Hi, George.”

  He smiles. “Delaney, big favour.”

  I let out a sigh. “Is that a question or a demand?”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Can I beg?”

  “If you really want to, but maybe you should just tell me what this is about.”

  He claps his hands together. “Well, we have a little problem. And by little, I mean really big one, and I’m hoping that you can help me?”

  “It depends on what it is.”

  He sighs. “I screwed up and I need dinner for an evening shoot on Friday. Your food went down so well, and I thought maybe we could try some Kiwi delicacies.”

  “It’s awfully short notice.”

  Nodding, he holds his palms up. “It’s totally my fault. I had it in my calendar for the wrong date, and I thought I had two more weeks.”

  We could do it, especially if they pay as well as they did last time.

  “How about you email me the details and I’ll take a look? What kind of Kiwi delicacies do you want? You know we don’t eat actual Kiwis, right?”

  His tense expression disappears when he laughs. “I did know that. And whatever you feel is a good fit. As long as we have gluten-free, vegetarian, and vegan options.”

  “Sure. We could do a good old-fashioned barbecue or something similar. Plenty of meat, but different salad options. That would be reasonably simple to do in bulk. I’d have to order the meat in thoug
h, so the sooner you can get me those details, the better.”

  His relief is obvious as he lets out a long, loud breath. “Thank you. You’re a legend.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.”

  He smiles. “You’re still the best. Thanks for even trying to help me.”

  “If I can’t get enough meat, you can help me make sandwiches and salad.”

  He laughs.

  He thinks I’m kidding.

  When I don’t laugh too, his laughter comes to an abrupt stop and his face drops.

  “Get that email to me ASAP and I won’t need your help in the kitchen.”

  His smile’s still tight as he leaves, and I blow out a breath. What I should be doing is staying clear of anything to do with that production, but at the same time, it’s all money in my pocket.

  And with things as tight as they are, it’s hard to argue with that.

  After the diner’s closed for the night, Pania makes her way to my house.

  George got his email to me right before five, but if we put our heads together, I’m sure we can get something together for Friday.

  “What have we got?” she asks.

  “He’s sent me the numbers. It’s not as big as the other day that we did, but they’ll be working into the night, so they’ll need something to keep them going.”

  She looks over my shoulder. “Where are they filming?”

  I look at the email. “Trevor Jenkins’ land by the lake.”

  “Why don’t we do a hangi? If we can get permission from Trevor, then Wiremu can dig a pit the night before and we can get it started in the morning, put the food down early afternoon, and then we just need to pull it out at dinner time.”

  I nod. “It fits with George’s requirements. Make some different green salads, potato salad—maybe even do a spit roast because you know that there’ll be people who aren’t keen on hangi.”

  “That’s a really good idea. We could do chicken, beef, lamb, pork, potatoes, kumara, and pumpkin. And as an alternative, pig on a spit and maybe a couple of rotisserie chickens.”

  I type the ideas into a spreadsheet to do the calculation on how much we’ll need. “I’m really liking this. It’s good money, and also not too much effort.”

  “Just put the food in to cook and leave it for a few hours.”