by P. L. Harris
Thomas Brennan, the owner of The Harbourmaster Hotel had contracted her to organise and promote a fundraiser for Huntington’s WA. All their communication had been via email so she had yet to meet the elusive Thomas, but apparently, he had ‘heard good things about her events’ so he had allowed her autonomy. Clearly the event was important to him as he had donated a swath of prizes (both from the hotel and from his industry contacts) for the silent auction. Thomas had also been the one who had suggested ‘Count Me In’ as the theme; a modern interpretation on the classic pub counter meal a perfect fit for the heritage building with its beautiful architecture and old-world style, but still creating a feel that oozed urban cool and modern without trying.
Tilly checked the time on her phone. Sienna was meant to be here by now. As though hearing her thoughts, Sienna’s smiling face and long curly brown hair appeared on screen as the phone buzzed.
“Hi, how far away are you?” She couldn’t wait much longer, she needed to check the final details.
“Um, about that, Tils, I’m really sorry...”
She picked up her glass and paused as she was about to take a sip. “You are coming, aren’t you?”
“I’m still at work. I snuck out of the meeting to call you. I’m not getting out of here anytime soon. I’m so sorry Tils. You know if I could be there I would.”
Tilly tried to hide her disappointment. Sienna always made the effort; she was always late—but she always came. Even though she really had wanted the moral support of her best friend, Tilly wasn’t going to make her feel worse.
“No, I know that, it’s okay. We’ll catch up tomorrow though, right?”
Sienna sounded relieved. “Of course, Can you put in my donation for me, please?”
“Okay, will do. See you tomorrow.” Tilly frowned as she put her phone away. She would have to out on her big girl pants and do it on her own.
“Not stood up, I hope?”
She turned to see a tall man standing beside her. Perfect crisp white shirt, dark hair combed back from his face. A cheeky smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She looked back up from his lips to his eyes. Oh no, she had been staring too long without answering.
“Sorry I couldn’t help but overhear.” He offered. She broke the intense eye contact and looked away.
Why had she had let him be the one to break the silence? Pull yourself together Tilly.
“’Fraid so, can’t get out of work.” She drew her eyes away and looked down, trying to regain her composure. It had been a long time since she had been struck by such an instant chemical attraction. Where the hell had he come from? How had she not noticed him walking in?
“Well, you let him off lightly.” He motioned to the bartender. “Trent, get the lady another drink and put it on my tab.”
Flustered and trying to form a quick response, Tilly blurted out, “I let her off lightly, but she will be making it up to me tomorrow.”
He turned his body towards her, his dark eyes looking into hers as he slowly raised an eyebrow. After a moment he looked away and swigged the last of his drink. A smile broke through the perfect stubble again.
“Well, she is a lucky woman. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
He stood to leave and Tilly resisted turning to look at him so he wouldn’t see her flushed face (despite how much she wanted to watch him walk away).
God, he was hot, those eyes and that stubble and why did he smell so good and...wait...why is Sienna a lucky woman?
Tilly headed to the Ladies. No point worrying about whatever the hell that was, there was an event to organise. She applied a thick coat of fresh lipstick and stared into the mirror.
You’ve done the preparation, dotted all the i’s and crossed the t’s. Now get your head into the right space, you are here for business not pleasure.
HAVING GIVEN HERSELF a good talking to, she stood tall and headed towards the function room.
It was a relief to see that the arrangements she had sent through had been followed to the letter. There were two staff members at the door ready to check guests as they arrived, items for the silent auction perfectly displayed as per specs, stage setup—things were looking up.
“Hello again.” Tilly spun on her heel on hearing the same warm deep voice that had drawn her attention in the bar.
“I’m Thomas Brennan. Can I help you with something?” He extended his hand. Tilly froze.
Of course, he’s Thomas. That’s why I didn’t see him come through the door at the bar because he was already there.
She extended her hand and tried to not look as self-conscious as she felt.
“Matilda Walker the Event Planner.”
He paused a moment and then let go. “Nice to see you again, everyone got your message about the setup. Would you like to take a walk with me, make sure we got it right?”
Tilly couldn’t decide if he was mocking her. “It looks great. Everything seems to be good to go, I can do the last checks. Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure you have somewhere else to be.” Tilly knew she was rambling and, in an attempt to make a swift get away, caught her jacket on one of the chairs.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH me? Am I determined to look like a giddy school girl?
“I’ll just tuck that one in.” she said as she shoved the seat forward.
Nice recovery Tilly—not.
She spent the rest of the night playing hide and seek, avoiding eye contact with Thomas, without much success. They were seated at the same table and she gradually relaxed, even telling him.
“Please you can call me Tilly, it’s fine.”
Thomas proved to be as charming as he was handsome putting everyone at ease and working the room like a pro, encouraging people to browse the auction items and drawing their attention to the wishing well for donations. Tilly noticed that he was like a magnet to the many women in the room. Not that she had any claim on Thomas, but as the night wore on, she wished that she did.
It was tradition for Tilly to wait as close to closing as she could and take stock of how the event had gone. She took a glass of wine and found a quiet corner and sat down, opening her planner to a blank page. Drawing a neat line down the middle she marked one side ‘Successes’ and the other ‘Challenges’. There wasn’t much to gain from classing anything as a ‘Fail’.
Successes
All equipment functioned
Meals were out quickly and the food was hot and amazing (many comments from guests)
Silent auction—successful, raised substantially more than anticipated for client’s charity, Huntington’s WA
Service staff and management were warm and polite
She tapped her pen on the table.
The manager is hot
Amazing eyes
Gorgeous face
Hair that you just want to run your fingers through
An absolutely fabulous...
“Still hard at work?” Thomas caught her off guard and she slammed her planner shut like a teenager caught writing notes in class.
“Nope, all finished.” She looked up at him and her eyes paused on his mouth and slowly moved down his firm arms. Over-eagerly she pointed to his full hands, “What have you got there?”
“Thought you might want something sweet to finish the night off.”
Tilly swallowed a giggle before it could escape.
Yes please.
“Pavlova?” Thomas placed a huge platter down next to her and handed her a fork.
“What no plates?” Tilly raised her eyebrow and tutted playfully.
“What are you gonna do, call the manager about my poor service?” He laughed a genuine deep rich laugh, making his eyes sparkle.
“Maybe I’ll email him tomorrow.” She picked up a strawberry with her fingers and ate it.
WHEN THE PAV WAS HALF the size, Tilly looked at her watch. It was nearly two in the morning and she still didn’t want to go home. Thomas was just so easy—not just easy on the eye, easy to talk to, easy to like. Open and honest, hell it wasn’t l
ike her, but it was easy to imagine a lot more. As they were talking, she could sense he felt something too, but then he would look down and the moment would pass.
Tilly took the forks and glasses, and Thomas grabbed the leftover pavlova and followed her towards the kitchen. As she pushed on the heavy door, it became clear the staff had locked it from the inside. She slammed into it. Thomas close behind, walked straight into her and they both fell to the floor. Tilly unceremoniously landed on top of him.
She pulled away and tried to collect herself and turned to see Thomas sitting on the floor pulling the platter off, revealing his shirt plastered with pavlova, fruit, and whipped cream.
“Tilly, are you okay?”
Heat rose from her stomach and neck finally reaching her cheeks making them burn.
“I’m...I’m fine.” She stood and tried to regain some dignity. Thomas burst out laughing and lay down. “Don’t worry there’s nothing you can see, it’s all on the back.” He stood up and grabbed a clean cloth napkin from one of the tables.
He spoke softly, “Let me help you.”
Tilly turned and he slowly swept her hair to one side. “I think I’m wearing the worst of it.” He gently wiped the cream off her shirt that was clinging to her back. Tilly’s eyes closed, she could feel his warm breath on her neck and there was silence for a moment. Suddenly as though realising he had overstepped, Thomas stopped and said a little too brightly, “There you go, all good.” and moved away.
Tilly turned and gasped when she saw Thomas undoing the buttons on his shirt and sliding it off. She took in his strong chest and round shoulders. He looked up and caught her eye.
“Sorry, I’ve got a clean shirt in my office and...I didn’t think it would bother you.”
She was bothered all right. She raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to explain himself.
“Because...you have a girlfriend.” he looked at her sheepishly.
Tilly began mulling over the events of the night.
Sienna stood her up, Sienna was a lucky woman. Thomas thought Sienna was her girlfriend.
“And you thought that just because I had a girlfriend that I would be fine with a hot guy covered with whipped cream just taking his shirt off?”
His face dropped. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m not sure I understood anything after the part where you think I’m hot.”
“Sienna....is my best friend.” she smiled, slightly smug this time, trying to fix her gaze on his eyes despite wanting to take in the full sight of him standing half way to naked.
Clearly, he could not work out how to respond. Tilly stepped toward him and put her hands on his shoulders, sliding them down his strong arms. She lifted onto her toes and whispered in his ear, “Thanks for the pav...and the sweet treat.” she kissed him slowly but lightly on the lips and walked away. There’s nothing like making a memorable exit.
As promised, Sienna arrived mid-morning with ‘sorry gifts’ bakery croissants and hot coffee. Tilly answered the door half asleep and still in her PJ’s. “Nope, tell the maid to bring it to my room.”
“Big night, Tills?”
“Oh my God, you have no idea.” Tilly walked back to the bedroom and propped the pillow up. She got back in bed and pulled the covers over her legs and sipped the hot coffee. Sienna shrugged, jumped in the bed, and did the same.
“Doona day, is it?”
By the time the croissants were eaten and Sienna had graciously got up and made more coffee, Tilly had filled her in about Thomas and their sweet encounter.
“God Tills, didn’t know you had it in you. Stubbles sounds amazing and look at you go, you little minx.”
They both giggled and Tilly put a pillow over her face and screamed. Putting it to one side she looked at Sienna. “I can never speak to him again, I was all caught up in the moment, but that’s not me.”
Sienna grabbed her hands “Yes you can, you are going to call him—today.”
Tilly looked mortified “Why on earth would I do that?”
Sienna softened. “Don’t you see? He was smart and genuine and amazing and he wasn’t even trying to impress you, or seduce you—he thought your heart belonged somewhere else...with me.” Sienna couldn’t contain herself any longer, she grabbed Tilly in a tight embrace “I love you Tills, but Stubbles can do things for you that...I just can’t.” Sienna laughed so hard she actually fell off the bed taking Tilly with her.
Sienna got up and moved towards the door. “I’m going. You call Stubbles.”
Tilly grabbed a cushion off the bed and threw it at her “Don’t tell me what to do, you’re not my wife.”
Before she could brave herself to make the call, a message came through on her mobile.
Hi. I was wondering if you could pop in to The Harbourmaster on Monday so we can finalise all the details of the fundraiser and donations for Huntington’s WA. Thanks Thom.
The all-business message left Tilly sheepishly wondering if the moment had been more memorable for her than it had been for Thomas. Maybe, he just wanted to move on and forget it happened so she replied.
Sure, does 10.00 work for you?
A message came straight back.
Sounds perfect, see you then. Thom.
After changing her outfit four times, Tilly decided on the first she’d tried on, and headed to The Harbourmaster. As she reached the entry door, she took a deep breath and smoothed her hair, straightened her shoulders, and put her game face on—professional and business like.
The front bar was quiet, they weren’t due to open for another hour and half. Tilly saw Thom sitting in one of the leather chairs in the corner, reading the paper and looking like something straight out of a modelling campaign.
TILLY STRODE OVER TO him.
Business not pleasure, business not pleasure.
She saw him look up at her a few steps short of the table and stood.
“Good Morning, Thomas.” She straightened her jacket and gripped onto her planner for dear life.
“Good Morning Tilly.” he smiled. “How are you? I hardly slept all weekend. Must have been all the sugar.”
She blinked, lost for words.
“I took the liberty of ordering some coffee and morning tea.” He pointed to the other chair. She looked on the table and noticed a huge platter, pavlova with fresh cream, strawberries and two forks.
He walked around her and pulled out the chair. As she sat down, he swept her hair to one side and whispered in her ear, “I do so enjoy a sweet treat.”
Heat rose up her neck again, but this was not the same embarrassed blush from their first encounter. Thomas sat down, clearly enjoying the affect his words had on her. Tilly didn’t mind, it was clear he felt it too.
I guess this meeting was about pleasure after all.
Sweet Ginger
Mickey Martin
Lachlan Fraser pulled the Range Rover up in front of the picturesque patisserie after several hours of driving from the Western District of Victoria, through Melbourne to Inglewood, that would be his new hometown, and place of employment for the duration of the job he was hired to do. His gut was telling him it was time to settle down somewhere for good, but right now, he just didn’t know where that somewhere was.
His new landlady had requested in her email that he pick up the keys to her guest cottage from her place of work. Getting out of the Rover, he stroked the glossy head of his much-loved Border Collie, Lizard, as he caught the scent of sweet spices drifting in the muggy air. His stomach rumbled in hunger as his gaze swept down the length of the small tidy town of Inglewood.
Like a lot of old gold mining towns in Australia, it was a complete dust bowl in the summer months, kept green only by hardy drought tolerant plants and proud, water-smart gardeners. He could not have been happier in that moment as he took a deep breath and stretched his stiff muscles.
Lachlan spotted two elderly ladies sitting under the patisserie porch that was dripping with blooms of wisteria. They looked sweetly comical with a finger bun raised t
o their mouths, hands frozen in mid-air as they sat gawking at him. He overheard one say to the other, “Betty, wipe your drool,” as she chuckled before quickly catching a dollop of cream that was about to land in her lap.
“I wouldn’t mind a bite out of that,” came her companions reply.
Lachlan hid his knowing smile as he approached them, happy to see a bowl of water sitting under the shade of the wisteria, and patted Lizard as she lapped at it gratefully.
“They look good,” he indicated to their finger buns.
“You won’t find anything as scrumptious for miles around,” One of the ladies said, sounding proud. “I’m Edna, by the way, and this is my sister, Betty.”
Betty grinned up at him as she stroked Lizard’s head.
“Nice to meet you ladies. I’m Lachlan,” he smiled, before pointing inside the patisserie. “Is Ginger in?”
“She certainly is.” Edna picked up her dainty teacup and took a delicate sip before he turned to open the patisserie door.
“Thank you, ladies. Lizard sit,” he said, admiring the dainty filigree around the painted sign that read, Ginger’s Delights, before stepping inside.
Surveying the space with a builder’s eye, he looked at the craftmanship of the counters and seating areas made from ghost gum and decorative pieces of wrought iron that wove intricately together, looking like part of the set of Rivendell in Lord of The Rings. Adorning one wall, three carriage lanterns sat between old black and white photographs of the town’s past, giving it that grand rustic vibe of days gone by. The display cases had him drooling. Not just the excellent work where carved wood met embossed glass, but the contents held within. Hot fruit pies lined one side of the old-fashioned cash register, the other filled with delicate sponge and cupcakes that promised to have fresh whipped cream and assorted homemade jams. Mouth sized slices from vanilla, to jelly, hedgehog, and caramel. Daintily decorated cakes that looked like they had been made by a prestigious patisserie you would find in any major city. He spied some old favourites, apple turnovers, matchsticks, and chocolate eclairs. Hunger pains clawed at his stomach.