A Man Like Mike

by Sami Lee

  Her eyes passed over him of their own volition, before she dragged them away again, her thoughts scattering. She stood abruptly. “Ah … so you got your, uh, errands done then?”

  He rose to his feet, watching her with a curious expression. She might have expected his lips to twitch, for him to poke some good-natured fun at her bumbling, but his mouth remained grim. “I did. You want me to help you with these?”

  What she wanted she couldn’t have, Eve thought in exasperation, but it would have been churlish to refuse his assistance, not to mention stupid. So she nodded, indicating he could lift two of the boxes, and turned to head upstairs.

  He said nothing further until they were in the master bedroom and Mike saw the pile of clothes on the bed. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Jacinta’s clothes,” Eve said. “I had to get around to it sometime.”

  “What are you going to do with it all?”

  “Donate it. That’s what the boxes are for. You don’t have to help.”

  In reply he showed her a flash of annoyance before moving to open the first box.

  They worked in silence, folding the clothes before packing them in the boxes, using the third box for the shoes, hats and other accessories.

  “What about that one?” Mike asked, pointing to a small cardboard box left in the bottom of the closet.

  Eve crouched and pulled the box out of the cupboard. When she opened it what she saw made tears clog her throat. “I can’t believe she kept this stuff.”

  Mike crouched alongside her. “What is it?”

  Reaching into the box, Eve pulled out a dog-eared a copy of Gone with the Wind. “Her favourite book of all time,” she explained. She pulled out a few other items, touching each one reverently, feeling Jacinta’s spirit in them. “Her father gave her this watch for her sixteenth birthday. And this is the—”

  “The movie ticket stub from her and Derek’s first date,” Mike said taking the slip of cardboard from her and reading it. “I can’t believe my brother went to see a chick flick for her.”

  “I suppose you wouldn’t watch a chic-flick for any woman.”

  Mike looked at her, his expression puzzling. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Eve dragged her eyes away and cleared her throat. She pulled a photo album out of the box, opening it to find it was Jacinta’s wedding album, the one filled with pictures of goofy, candid moments of the day, not the posed portraits from the album everyone else saw. “Oh, God!” she exclaimed when she flipped a page to see a photograph of herself pulling a face that Jacinta and a few glasses of champagne had goaded out of her.

  She was too late to pull the album out of Mike’s grasp. Lifting it out of her reach he looked at the photo, smiling for the first time since she had turned to see him standing in the open doorway downstairs. “Well look at you, Miss Evie.”

  “Mike, don’t! It’s terrible.”

  “I don’t know, I kind of like it.” He sent her a glance that stole her breath. Quickly, he turned back to the album and flipped over the page. “Look, there’s one here of Jacinta that looks even worse.”

  “There’s no way Jacinta looks worse than me,” Eve denied. “She always turned heads. Lord knows why she ever befriended me. She was vivacious and popular even then, when we were both only eight. I had holes in my shoes and garish red pigtails.” Rising to her feet, Eve plucked a floral blouse from the top of the box she’d just packed, absently running her hand over the silky material.

  When she fell into silence Mike prompted, “So why do you think she did?”

  Eve shrugged. She could answer easily because it was something she’d thought about often herself. “I think at first I might have been nothing more than a curiosity. She used to lend me her clothes, give me mini-make overs, things like that.” She smiled wryly. “Somehow, we developed a kinship. She was lonely, too, in her own way. An only child whose parents gave her material things instead of time. She convinced them to take me in when I was twelve, when Leanna died.”

  Mike stood as well. It was a long moment before he spoke again. “How did she die?”

  She started a little at his softly issued question, and turned to look at him. He was flipping through the photo album idly, as though not wondering at her answer. It made it easier to tell him. “She was working as a waitress at the time, and accepted a lift from some customer. He’d been drinking. Unfortunately, Leanna never did have very good judgement when it came to things like that, especially if there was a man involved. Usually, when she … left me at home for a few days, it was to chase some man. It always ended badly, and she came back in a worse mood than ever, but not that time. There was an accident, and both my mother and the driver died on impact.”

  When her eyes sought him out again, he was looking at her. His expression was guarded, but there was a hint of something harsh in his eyes, like anger. He said gruffly, “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head in dismissal, tossing the blouse back into the box. She didn’t want to talk about her mother. She didn’t want to carry around this burden of aloneness any more.

  But what else could she do? Alone was how she’d always felt. Alone would be how she’d feel when Mike was gone.

  “I’ll take these boxes to Lifeline for you.” Mike dropped the photo album onto the bed and looked at his watch. “Tomorrow, if it can wait. I have to think about getting ready for work.”

  “Tomorrow’s fine,” Eve said to his retreating back. When he had almost crossed the threshold, she found she couldn’t let him go. “Mike, wait.”

  He stopped and turned back.

  “Thank you for your help. I appreciate it, especially after I, ah, led you on last night.”

  At that, his eyes sparked. “Is that what you did?”

  She lowered her head, mortified. “Isn’t that what you’d call it?”

  “No.” Eve listened to his approaching footfalls, seeing his shoes enter her line of vision. Still, she kept her head bowed until he used two fingers to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him.

  “Leading a man on implies a woman has no intention of following through with what she starts. Last night, you had every intention of following through. You know it as well as I do. If Bailey hadn’t cried, we would have spent the night together. We would have woken up together.” His words were so hypnotic, Eve felt herself swaying. “I would have brought you breakfast in bed. I would have made love to you again this morning.”

  The picture he painted with his words, spoken with such quiet certainty, wrapped around Eve like a warm, silken blanket. She couldn’t remember why she had been so determined last night that everything he had just described shouldn’t happen.

  Then Mike reminded her. He dropped his hand from her face and took a step back, the veil coming down over the heated promise in his expression. It was like having the covers ripped off on a chilly winter’s morning. “But you made it perfectly clear nothing between us would ever be more than a cheap romp—a one-night thing that we’d both regret, to paraphrase. So I guess you’re glad it didn’t happen. I only wish I could feel the same.”

  Eve could only gape as he strode from the room without another word, too stunned to think straight. Was he saying he wouldn’t have regretted it if they’d made love last night? Was he saying he wished they had, no matter the consequences?

  Well, of course he would wish that. He was a man who could divorce his feelings from the sexual act; he was perfectly capable of loving her and leaving her. There were no consequences for him.

  And had he really appeared mortally affronted by her suggestion that they could only ever have a temporary fling? He was affronted! He was the one who was leaving, thereby enforcing the temporary nature of their relationship, not her. She was the one with the right to take offence here.

  Relationship. They didn’t have a relationship. They had nothing more than a couple of stolen kisses and shared interest in a child.

  Eve considered storming after him and pointing out his faulty thinking, but s
he quashed the impulse. He had said he needed to get ready for work, so he was probably taking a shower.

  Coherent thought left her again at the image that flashed through her mind. Heat infused her, melting her muscles until she had to sit down on the edge of the bed.

  If only Mike hadn’t moved in. She hadn’t had much interest in sharing physical intimacy with a man in years, had certainly never longed for it this way, with an obsessive persistence she couldn’t seem to overcome. He had awakened something inside her that she couldn’t put back into hibernation.

  For a savage moment she wished she could be the type of woman who indulged in meaningless flings. Then she could have what she craved and be happy for Mike to carry on his merry way afterward. But that wasn’t who she was, and there was no use lamenting it.

  “I wish you were here, Jacinta,” Eve murmured on a sigh. “You’d be able to make me feel better about this, one way or another.” The thought of her friend brought Eve’s eyes to the photo album that lay beside her on the bed. What she saw stopped her heart.

  Mike had left it open at a picture of the two of them. It had been taken while they were engaged in the obligatory bridal party dance. Mike held her loosely in his arms, looking as gorgeous as she remembered in his tuxedo. She stood stiffly in his embrace, looking about as comfortable as a lamb in the wolf’s lair while Mike murmured something in her ear. She couldn’t remember what it was, but she remembered it had made her blush. She had hardly been able to wait for the dance to end, but when it had she’d felt a stab of disappointment that he didn’t ask her for a second one.

  So what is it you do want, Eve?

  What she wanted, she realised, was to have an affair with Mike and not get her heart broken.

  She might as well wish to write her name in the stars.

  Chapter 11

  “Are you going to take that pizza out of the oven or did someone ask for a well done Veggie Supreme?”

  Mike didn’t bother to turn. He knew Barry’s face would be drawn down in a scowl, the scowl that had many a man, woman and apprentice scampering for cover anytime he brought it out. “Yo, Ross!” he called.

  “Yo!” came the answer from the apprentice chef.

  “Take that pizza out of the oven for table thirty!”

  “Can do!”

  “Satisfied?” Mike asked the burlier man, slinging the now finished plate of grilled Barramundi and mango salad on the serving counter and hitting the bell with more force than necessary. “I had it covered.”

  “Sure you did,” Barry said doubtfully. The next minute Mike felt something cold nudge him in the arm and turned to see Barry holding out a bottle of cola to him. He took it gratefully and downed half of it in one swallow.

  “You feel like getting something off your chest, Wilcox?”

  “No,” Mike snapped.

  “Hell, I wish you would. There’s only room for one surly chef in this here kitchen, and I’m not about to give up the title.”

  “I’m coming down with something, I guess.”

  “Hmm. A simple case of that-little-redhead’s-got-you-twisted-in-knots. That’s my diagnosis.”

  “Yeah? Well I didn’t ask for your diagnosis. … and I don’t want to talk about Eve.”

  Barry reared back, feigning alarm at his barely controlled fury. Hell, Mike had alarmed himself, and he knew his friend was right. It was Eve’s fault he was so moody. Eve and her slender curves, her dark, vulnerable eyes, her whip-smart mind and her thoroughly kissable lips—all of which he was missing like the devil now that they were so carefully staying out of each other’s way again.

  Unfortunately, staying out of her way hadn’t been enough to make him forget how she had kissed him two nights ago, how she had felt in his arms. Soft, pliant and willing. Definitely willing. Not for the first time this interminably long weekend, Mike cursed Bailey’s timing. If he hadn’t cried when he had, everything would have panned out exactly as he had described to Eve yesterday. The reminder made the ache of longing in his gut intensify.

  But neither could he forget what Eve had said that night, about him only ever being one-night-stand material. The anger was all that had kept him from reaching out to her this weekend to pick up where they’d left off. Evidently, Eve was only interested in a corporate type, someone smoother and more upwardly mobile than he. The fact that he was financially secure thanks to a few smart investments he’d made over the years wouldn’t make a difference, if she knew about it. He didn’t own an Armani suit and didn’t want to. He couldn’t think of a reason he’d ever need one.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Barry.” Mike was pulled out of his brooding by the sound of his mother’s familiar voice. “We just wanted to pop in say hello to Michael, if he’s not too busy.”

  “He’s busy pining, but that’s about it. I’ll send him out.”

  Soon afterward, Mike left the kitchen and joined his parents who, having ordered meals, were now seated at a table in the open plan, informal dining area. He nodded to his Dad and kissed his mother on the cheek before taking a seat beside them.

  “What on earth was Barry talking about? He said you were pining about something?”

  Mike scowled at his mother’s question. “Barry’s idea of a joke. What brings you by?”

  “We just dropped Bailey back with Eve—”

  “She was going to drive over to our place, but I told her there was no need for her to come out at night,” his father interjected.

  “And we thought it was a great excuse for us to pop in and visit with you,” his mother finished.

  “How was your weekend? Bailey didn’t give you any trouble?”

  “Oh, no, he was a darling.”

  His father elaborated, “Cried a little after Eve left.”

  “But that’s to be expected,” his mother said dismissively. “He’s grown very attached to her, not surprisingly.”

  Mike made a non-committal sound meant to convey agreement. Bailey wasn’t the only one who thought highly of Eve, but he was hardly going to reveal that to his parents. “I’m glad you and Eve were able to work out some regular visitation,” he commented, wishing Eve would be half as cooperative with him. “A break every now and again will be good for her.”

  Denise’s brow furrowed. “Yes, I thought she looked a little tired tonight. Has she been getting enough sleep, do you think?”

  “How should I know?” Mike immediately regretted his sharp reply when his mother arched an unimpressed brow. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little tired, as well.”

  Not the best explanation to provide, by the look on his mother’s face. She had immediately put the facts of he and Eve both showing signs of exhaustion together and come up with something that had her sitting back in her chair and scrutinising his face. “That’s interesting.”

  “No,” Mike said. “It’s not.”

  “I don’t suppose, Michael, that you and Eve might be—”

  “No Mum,” he said, the fervour in his denial mounting, “We’re not.”

  Denise sighed with heavy disappointment. “Well that’s too bad,” she lamented, shocking Mike with the complete turn-around she’d done since last week. “It would work out well for everyone if the two of you got together. You’d officially be a family, and maybe she could convince you not to move to Melbourne.”

  “Who said I was moving to Melbourne?”

  Denise looked even more confused than he felt. “You did, remember? A few weeks ago you told me your old employer down there said you could come back any time you wanted.”

  “And I said I’d take some time to think about it.”

  “And?”

  “And I thought about it. I told him no. It’s not the right time for me to move right now.”

  He’d called Jay Stephenson last week and told him he wouldn’t be taking up his offer of work, at least not now. He wanted to speak to his parents more than a few times a year by phone. He couldn’t leave Bailey.

  And then there was Eve. Eve was in the pictu
re there somewhere. No matter how vehemently he might try to deny she was a factor, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her, either.

  “But I assumed. You always said you’d go back one day. I told Eve…”

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention as her words trailed off. “You told Eve what?”

  “I told her you’d be moving to Melbourne soon. I told her I was surprised you hadn’t mentioned it. I suppose now I know why.”

  His dad rolled his eyes. “What have you done now, Denise?”

  She rounded on her husband. “Oh, and I suppose it’s my fault I was the last to know my son’s life-altering decision?”

  Mike let the two of them hash it out while he remained silent, trying to make sense of his racing thoughts. Eve had thought he was moving, and that he hadn’t told her about it. That he hadn’t cared enough about her to tell her something like that. And then they’d almost made love.

  Inwardly, Mike groaned. No wonder she’d said what she had about the two of them having a meaningless fling. She’d thought he’d seen her that way, as nothing more than an amusement to fill his time before he left town.

  The thing he needed to know was … did she want more than that from him?

  The meals his parents had ordered were delivered, giving Mike the impetus to excuse himself. As he stood, his mother grabbed his hand. She smiled up at him, her eyes shining. “I’m so glad you’re going to stay, honey.”

  Mike smiled back. No matter what happened with Eve, he knew staying was the right decision. His mother tended to get over-invested in his life and had a tendency to give him unasked for advice, but she was his mother and he loved her. With Derek gone now, he knew she and his dad needed him around more than ever.

  He said, “I’m glad, too.”

  As he walked away he wondered whether Eve would be as glad he wasn’t leaving.

  On Monday night, Eve tried to get engrossed in a trashy saga detailing the lifestyles of the fictional rich and famous she’d picked up at a second-hand book store. After more than an hour and several chapters, she gave up and tossed the thick paperback onto the nightstand.