by C L Green
Please God, not another one.
The first one had happened when Emma pulled us into the car park out the front of the bank. I’d looked around and seen all the people walking up and down the main street of Desmond and had a major freak out. The urge to jam myself under the dashboard and hide from the world had been overwhelming. What if one of them was looking for me?
It had taken Emma ten minutes to coax me out of the car. Her gentle voice calming me with constant reassurances that I was safe. She’d also assured me that if by the longest shot, someone Tony knew was in town, they would not recognize me. I was almost unrecognizable to her, my best friend. As far as she could tell, anyone who didn’t know me personally didn’t stand a chance.
“Ten thousand dollars,” Emma butts in from beside me snapping me out of my funk.
I watch as the tellers eyes enlarge slightly before she blanks her face again and continues her persistent tapping on the keyboard.
Swinging my eyes to Emma I see she is digging around in her massive handbag. With a smile, she pulls a big yellow envelope out and hands it to me. I open it, see a wad of bills and hand it to the teller with a smile. Taking a breath to fight off my freak out, I announce calmly, “Yes, ten thousand dollars,” and hand the envelope to the teller.
She gives me another polite smile as she tips the contents of the envelope onto the counter in front of her. Carefully taking the rubber bands off each small wad, she quickly counts each batch of notes and replaces the rubber bands. Stacking all the small wads into piles, she taps at her keyboard again and completes the deposit.
“Right, well that’s all finished.” She picks up my birth certificate, the driver’s license and two plastic cards and then hands them to me. “The blue one is your everyday debit card and the black one is your new credit card. Thank you for banking with us Ms. Davidson.”
I take the items and breathe a sigh of relief. Turning towards Emma, I flick her a quick glance as we turn to leave. She grins at me with an ‘I told you so’ look. I shake my head at her and head towards the door. I’m still astounded. The whole process had been too easy.
Not that it wasn’t without us garnering a good deal of unwanted attention. This would be because Emma had insisted that she couldn’t leave Jambo in the car to cook in the midday sun so the damned bird was on her shoulder the whole time we were in the bank. Thankfully he had been quiet. Appearing to sense the importance of our mission he had only muttered a few words here and there that were barely decipherable by passer’s by.
Finally exiting the building and standing out in the bright sunlight I run my hands over my face. “Jesus. I hate to admit it but I think I need a drink. Or some Valium.”
“A drink sounds perfect!” Emma replies chirpily. “Let’s find a pub and have lunch too.”
Nodding my agreement, she grabs my hand and cheerfully starts dragging me down the sidewalk in search of food and alcohol. Shaking my head to clear the stress of my time in the bank, I sigh and shuffle along to keep up with her.
Chapter Nine
Fall Back Guy
I spent the rest of my afternoon wandering around a strange town in the middle of nowhere with my best friend and her parrot. And it was fun. This was because Emma spent the afternoon helping me to realize that my life was now uninhibited and I could do whatever I wanted to do, be whatever I wanted to be.
She had also helped me to realize there was no reason for me to continue freaking out about someone recognizing me. It was as near to impossible as it could be. Between the physical changes and the creation of my new identity, I was, as far as we could both tell, safe.
After a quick lunch at the pub where we discussed the fact that I should recommence freelance web development again, we went shopping for all the relevant technology I needed to get up and running. We also found a small shopping mall with a strip of small boutiques that saw us buying so many new outfits we could barely carry the bags back to the car.
We then made the hour-long drive back to Ridge Creek where we grocery shopped before heading back to the Harley shop just after five in the afternoon.
We are now unloading and unpacking our purchases. I am in the communal room trying to find somewhere to store our fresh produce while Emma ferries bags of groceries to me from her car.
Surprisingly, the communal room is as near to empty as I’ve ever seen it. Apart from a guy still sitting at the shop front desk, as far as I can tell, everyone except for Luke is out in the garage. I can hear the dull thud of a stereo and the quiet murmurs of multiple conversations. Now and then I ear a motorbike start up, rev and then shut down again.
As the exception, Luke is sitting at the bar as I unpack one of the many bags of groceries that Emma is ferrying to me from her car.
“You can’t put those in there,” Luke announces from his stool at the bar.
“Where else do you expect me to put them then?” I reply, peeved that he is suggesting I can’t put groceries in what I can make out is the only fridge in the building.
“Dunno. Just not there. Jake and Zane will have a fit. Salad in the bar fridge. No go zone. Its sacrilege. There’s another fridge in the garage they put left over shit like pizza. If I were you, I’d be using that one.”
Straightening from my position bent over digging through my grocery bags, I pin a glare on Luke’s bright blue eyes. As I do this, my mind briefly registers how good he looks today. With faded blue jeans, motorbike boots and a tight black Henley that fits his chest and broad shoulders just right, the word ‘yum’ rolls through my mind a split second before I speak.
“I am not going into the garage every time I want something to eat.”
I watch as his eyes sparkle and a small smirk lifts the edge of his mouth. He is clearly amused at getting a rise out of me.
Swinging my attention back to the groceries, I dig out all the perishables, open the bar fridge, shuffle some cans and bottles to one side and start loading the shelf.
“This won’t end well,” I hear Luke mumble from behind me but I choose to ignore his words.
“What won’t end well?” I hear Emma announce as she enters the room carrying a couple of computer boxes, Jambo happily perched on her shoulder enjoying a ride.
“Girl food in the man fridge,” Luke mutters as he flicks his chin towards the bar fridge. “Do you need me to carry anything?”
“Nah, we’re on it,” Emma says, placing the boxes on the bar as she leans over my shoulder to look at the newly reorganized bar fridge. “Where else are we supposed to put our food?”
See I’m not the only one who thinks that.
I shoot Luke another glare and watch as he lifts his eyebrows at me. He then shakes his head at us both and returns his attention to a clipboard with invoices in front of him. He has been double-checking an itemized invoice and making notes on his IPhone while he is sitting at the bar.
“I think you’d better focus on setting up my laptop first Emma, I think we need to order a new fridge as well.”
Emma nods and swings back to the boxes on the bar. “I figured you’d want your laptop straight up. You wanna use mine till I get your new beast up and running?”
“Nah, I’ll finish unpacking groceries and start on the flat packs. By the time I work them out, you’ll probably be finished setting up.”
I hear Luke’s pen thud down on his clipboard. “Did I hear you say flat packs?”
Looking back over to him, I see he has a hopeful look on his face.
Huh?
“Yeah, Emma and I bought ourselves a flat pack desk each. They’re hanging out the back of her Maz at the moment. Are you offering up your manly skills to assemble them for us?”
“Sure,” he agrees quickly. “Love a good flat pack. Grown mans’ Meccano.” Already rising off his stool he then asks, “Where’s the car?”
“Burgundy Maserati directly out front,” Emma mutters. “You might need a knife or some scissors or something. The boots held shut with baling twine because we couldn’t fit
the flat packs on the backseat. There may be a few granny knots to contend with.”
I watch as Luke rolls his eyes and shakes his head almost indiscernibly. “Why is ridiculous shit the norm around you?” He mutters under his breath as he heads for the door. “Who the fuck ties the boot of a goddamned Maserati down with baling twine?”
Emma and I glance at each other for a second, grin and then go back to our tasks.
A short time later Luke reappears carrying both boxes, one under each arm. “Where do you want them? In your rooms?” He asks.
“That’d be great,” I reply as I finish poking the last plastic bag of fruit and vegetables into the fridge. “Can we do mine first?”
“Sure,” he mumbles as he turns and leaves the room. “Probably taking my life in my own hands entering your bedroom while Jake’s not here, but what the Hell, you only live once.”
Jolting upright as I register what he just said, I flash my eyes towards the door and find he is gone. Swinging my eyes to Emma, I give her a questioning look and she rolls her eyes at me.
Surely after last night I can assume Jake couldn’t care less who is in my room whether he’s here or not. Further supporting that point would be the fact that I’ve not seen hide or hair of him all day. He didn’t even bother to tell me he was leaving on business this time.
I watch as Emma shrugs her shoulders at me and continues opening the box in front of her. Jambo is now sitting on the box and helping her to peel the tape back.
“I’ll be in my room supervising Luke,” I mutter as I head for the door as well.
“Sure,” she mutters absentmindedly as she busies herself with digging my new laptop out of its box.
By the time I make it to my bedroom, Luke is kneeling on the floor opening the flat pack box and spreading its contents out around him. Wandering over to sit on the bed, I survey the carnage as he opens various packets of screws and bolts, upending them all together in a single pile.
“You sure you should be mixing those up?” I ask.
“Yep,” he mumbles, staring thoughtfully at the small pile of hardware sitting in front of him. Picking up the instruction booklet he flicks through the pages and then announces, “Gunna need to grab a cordless drill from my truck.” Flinging the booklet down, he stands up and heads for the door. Just before he disappears into the hallway he looks back over his shoulder and gives me a wink. “You can get us a beer while I get the drill.”
Staring at the empty doorway, I quickly vow to myself that tonight I will only be drinking one beer as I lift off the bed and head to the communal room to fulfill his request.
By the time I get back, Luke is back in his kneeling position on the floor and once again flicking through the instruction booklet. I watch as his eyes drift lazily up from the booklet and settle on mine. I walk straight to him and hand him his beer. With a small smile, he reaches a hand out to take his beer. It is as he is wrapping his fingers around the neck of the bottle that I feel his fingers graze mine and a small electric shock zaps through my fingers. A warm tingle then travels up my arm. With a gasp, I shove the bottle into his fingers and step back.
Holy crap. What was that?
I watch as he grins at me again. Bringing the bottle to his lips, I watch as his eyes stay pinned on mine and he takes a long pull of his beer. “Thanks,” he murmurs.
“No worries,” I reply as I shuffle my way past him and resume my seat on the bed to watch him as he works.
Placing his beer on the floor next to him, he also flings the booklet down beside him and picks up a couple of pieces of board from one of the piles he has in front of him. Holding them together, I watch as he lines some holes up, leans across to his pile of screws, flicks through the pile and selects a screw. Sitting it in the hole and holding the boards with one hand, he then uses the cordless to screw it in.
I marvel at how easy he makes it look.
I remember the last time I had to assemble a piece of flat pack furniture when I was living with Tony. It had been a painful process. None of the screws seemed to fit the holes, the head of the screwdriver kept falling out of the screws and I broke a nail. It was a long day and it was not a good day.
Watching quietly as Luke works I am amazed to see that a few short minutes later, several pieces are already screwed together and the flat pack is starting to look like a desk.
Holy shit.
Deciding I should probably acknowledge his good work I announce, “You’re very good at screwing.”
No sooner are the words from my mouth than I realize what I’ve said and I quickly follow with a, “Shit, that didn’t come out right. I mean - ”
He cuts me off with a grin, “I am.” Picking his beer up from the floor next to him, he rocks back on his heels and gives me another one of his lazy looks.
Boy has this guy got the smolder factor going on.
Taking another swig of his beer, he doesn’t say anything, just stares, puts his beer down and continues putting the desk together.
“I suppose you do a fair bit of it when you set up your green energy systems,” I continue in an effort to make small talk.
I watch as he flicks me a glance, smirks, then continues working.
Shit.
This is not going well. Why the hell do I keep saying stupid shit? I lift my beer back to my lips and for some reason, drain it. It goes straight to my head.
Damn.
“Another?” I ask pointing at my now empty beer bottle.
He lifts an eyebrow at me and nods. “Sure.”
Launching off the bed, I head back to the communal room. On arrival, I find Emma is well underway setting up my laptop and she is at the software installation phase. Watching me as I pass through, she looks at the empty beer bottle in my hand and grins. “You go girl.”
“I’m becoming an alcoholic,” I mumble as I bin my empty bottle and grab two more.
Shrugging her shoulders she returns her attention to the laptop and I leave her to it.
Back in my bedroom, I pass through the doorway and jolt to a stop as I do a double take. The desk is finished and Luke is tightening some screws on its side.
“Holy shit,” I exclaim as I stare dumbfounded at the desk. “You’re finished?”
Tightening one last screw, he puts the cordless down and grabs his beer. Once again tipping back on his heels, he takes a long pull from his beer as his eyes settle on me. He nods.
“That has got to be a world record effort. You’re fast. Real fast. You should enter flat pack building competitions you’re so fast. Do they even have those? If they did, you could be a world champion and travel the world screwing flat packs together while people cheer you on. You’d probably end up with sponsorship from Hitachi or Dewalt or something. Have you ever considered a career in professional screwing?”
I then watch as is chest starts shaking and a grin spreads across his lips which are still touching the bottle. Taking another swig, he finishes his bottle and puts it down. “Are you suggesting I become a man whore?”
“What! No!” I screech. “I didn’t mean that!”
Jesus.
Why do I keep saying this stupid shit? You’d think I’d never been around a man the way I am getting all tongue-tied. He continues smirking before he relieves my distress by explaining, “I’m a qualified electrician Arianna, I’ve been using a drill, for screwing, since I was sixteen.”
“Oh,” I mumble.
Well that makes sense.
It would be highly unlikely you could install green energy systems without being an electrician. Why didn’t I think about that earlier? I walk forward and pass him his new bottle of beer.
Deciding that I can’t keep this conversation on the straight and narrow, I ask, “Why am I struggling to make a conversation with you?”
“Because we are alone in your bedroom and you’re attracted to me,” he says simply as his lips twitch a little. He takes a long pull from his beer and settles it on the floor next to him before continuing, “Where do you wa
nt your desk?”
Dumbfounded I feel my mouth drop open as I gape at him.
Cocky bastard.
What is it with the men around here? They are all straight talkers. What ever happened to subtlety? Snapping my mouth shut again, I feel my brows knitting together as I ask, “That’s a bit cocky isn’t it?”
He gives me a grin and shrugs his shoulders. “Just sayin’,” he mumbles before clearing his voice to ask, “Where do you want the desk?”
I point to a wall near a power outlet.
“I’m attracted to you to Arianna, but I know you’re off-limits.”
Huh? What the hell does that mean?
“Off-limits?” I squeak as he starts rolling the desk towards the wall.
Luke ignores my squeak and settles the desk against the wall. Turning back to face me, he leans his hip against it and continues, “Me, Jake and Zane have been tight since Grade four Ari. We are brothers in everything but blood. That means we respect each other.”
“That’s nice for you but what’s it got to do with me being off limits? I’d like to hear more about that.”
I watch as his eyebrows knit slightly and he starts to scratch his neck. Giving me a strange look, he pushes of the desk and heads back to reclaim his beer from the floor. “Are you shittin’ me?” He asks.
“Shitting you about what? I wanna know why I’m off-limits.”
“Because you’re Jakes woman,” he replies looking confused.
“I am not!” I snap loudly. So loudly that I watch Luke physically startle and make a small body movement backwards.
“You’re not?” He asks looking confused.
“Not that I know of,” I huff as I walk back to the bed and slump down on it to consider Luke’s revelation. “Sure he looks after me, but I think he only does it because he feels sorry for me. That doesn’t make me his woman.”
Luke takes a slow pull on his beer and stares at me for a few beats. “You might want to talk to Jake about that. I’m not sure you and he are on the same page.”
“That sounds like an understatement,” I mumble to myself as I start to wonder if I am in fact Jake’s woman. I would have thought to be someone’s ‘woman’ you would have had to have at least kissed. None of this makes sense.