by Holly Ford
‘Historical stocking rates?’ Tess managed to whisper to Mark in the paddock outside, as the chairman climbed into the helicopter. ‘What are they, exactly?’
‘You might want to ask your stock manager.’ Mark’s eyes narrowed. ‘He’s got some thoughts to share, apparently.’
•
‘What the bloody hell did you say to C.J. Mackersey?’ Storming into Nate’s kitchen, Tess fixed her eyes on him, so angry she could barely form words.
‘Tess,’ Nate said acidly. ‘Come in. Have a drink.’
‘Are you celebrating?’ She glared down at the bottle of twelve-year-old Scotch on the table.
‘It’s been a big day.’
‘You set me up,’ she realised. ‘You planned the whole thing. All that shit with the boat.’
‘I didn’t set you up.’ He paused. ‘Not really.’ Rocking his chair back against the bench, he pulled out a second glass from the cupboard. ‘What’s it to you, anyway? I mean, it’s nothing personal, what you’re doing here, right?’
Tess opened her mouth.
Nate regarded her evenly. ‘You don’t care what we run on this place. You just want to do your job. And you did that. You did what you thought was right. The final decision got taken out of your hands, that’s all.’ Pouring the glass, he slid it across the table to her. ‘Seems to me like that’s a win for everybody.’
‘You undermined me,’ she said, shaking with fury, ‘with the head of the company.’
‘I answered some questions, that’s all.’
‘Questions like what?’
‘Macka asked me—’
‘Macka?’
‘—if I thought this was a good place for three thousand dairy cows, and I told him the truth.’
Jesus Christ.
‘If you wanted me to lie to the boss for you, you should have sent out a memo.’ Nate shot her a look. ‘I’m already on a warning.’
Tess breathed out through clenched teeth. ‘Why are you even here? Do you think you’re some kind of white knight, is that it? Are you going to save the station?’
He grinned. ‘It’s safer than it was yesterday.’ Sipping his whisky, he studied her face. ‘You like him, don’t you?’
‘C.J. Mackersey?’
‘Mark.’
‘Don’t change the subject.’
‘So you do.’
‘Of course I like him,’ she snapped. ‘He’s my boss. We’ve worked together for years.’
Nate looked amused. ‘That doesn’t necessarily follow.’ He pushed the glass a little closer to her. ‘Does he know? Have you ever done anything about it?’
‘Mark’s my boss,’ Tess repeated. ‘And he’s married.’ She frowned. ‘He was, anyway.’
‘He just got single?’ Nate raised his eyebrows. ‘Sounds like this is your chance.’
‘Even if I could, I’m not about to hit on a guy who’s going through a divorce.’ Jesus. Why was she even talking about this? To him, of all people?
‘If you could?’
‘If I wanted to, I mean.’
‘If you don’t do it, chances are somebody else will.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Tess fumed. ‘Not everybody’s like you. We don’t all have to leap in and—’ She cast around for a polite term. ‘Do what you do,’ she finished lamely.
‘And what is it,’ he asked evenly, ‘that I do?’
‘You jump straight into bed with every woman you meet. You go out, and you bring back – I don’t know, Gina, whoever you see.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘That.’
Tess could feel herself starting to blush.
He gave her a slow, measuring look. ‘That bothers you?’
‘Of course it doesn’t bother me. Whatever it is you do with Gina or whoever else—’
Nate’s eyes flashed. ‘You want me to talk you through it?’
She stared at him, too shocked to formulate a reply.
‘It’s just you seem to be having trouble with your words,’ he said. ‘I thought maybe you’d forgotten.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘There you go. That’s the one.’ Nate raised his glass to her.
Picking up the one in front of her, Tess swallowed its contents. ‘You arrogant shit,’ she said. But the whisky was extinguishing the last of her rage, and the broadening grin on his face was contagious. She shook her head. Bloody hell.
‘I’m sorry.’ Reaching over, he refilled her glass. ‘But when you wind yourself up like that, you’re just too easy to mess with.’
Tess pulled out a chair. ‘I don’t wind myself up.’
His cheek dimpled further. ‘You know,’ he said, as she sat down, ‘if you like that guy, you should tell him. So what if he’s your boss?’
‘So it’s completely inappropriate, that’s what.’ She took another mouthful of Scotch. ‘Mark can’t date somebody who works for him. It’s an HR nightmare.’
‘Don’t you think you should give him the option, at least? Maybe you can work something out.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘He looks about ready for retirement.’
Tess pulled a face at him. ‘He’s forty-three.’
‘Have you thought that maybe he likes you too? The poor bloke probably spends his nights dreaming about you.’
She recoiled a little. ‘What makes you say that?’
Nate smiled. ‘Call it a hunch.’
No way. Mark had never thought about her like that. Had he? Tess swirled her Scotch. ‘Do guys really do that?’ she found herself asking. ‘Dream about women they work with?’
‘I guess it depends,’ he laughed. ‘What do you dream about?’
Tess looked at the hand encircling his glass. ‘Shoes,’ she evaded neatly. Or so she thought. A second later, she’d remembered hers dangling from Nate’s fingers. From the look on his face, the image had sprung to his mind too.
‘The point is,’ he went on, after another second or two had gone by, ‘that one of you has to take a risk. And you said yourself that it can’t be him. So it’s going to have to be you.’
Looking across the table at him, she tilted her head, considering. ‘Are you trying to get me fired?’
‘No need.’ Nate lifted his glass. ‘You’ll be gone soon enough anyway.’ He eyed the remains of the bottle on the table. ‘You want to stay and finish it off? I’ve got a spare couch.’
‘Tempting,’ Tess said wryly. ‘But I have to work in the morning. I’ve got a whole lot of plans to tear up.’ It had taken her three hours after Mackersey left just to cancel the purchase orders. Pushing back her chair, she got to her feet.
‘You’ll come up with a new one.’
‘I will,’ she promised firmly, as he walked her out to the door.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘Macka gave me his card.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Tess?’
At the top of the porch steps, she turned to look back at him.
‘Sweet dreams.’
With an incredulous shake of her head, Tess opened her mouth.
‘Don’t say it,’ he grinned. ‘I know. Fuck me.’
Ten
‘It’s not your fault,’ Mark’s voice soothed.
In the kitchen, Tess pressed the receiver closer to her ear.
‘You didn’t employ Nate McAdam, and you didn’t ask C.J. Mackersey to drop by. I’m sorry, Tess. I didn’t realise quite what you were up against down there.’ Mark sighed. ‘I know how much work you’d put into that model. If I hadn’t turned up with C.J… .’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ she told him. Winding the end of her ponytail around her forefinger, Tess tightened it for courage. One of you has to take a risk. ‘It was good to see you.’
‘You know I would have spared you the lecture if I could,’ he said, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘C.J.’s a dinosaur.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Really. It didn’t bother me.’
‘He was right about one thing. We’ve got plenty of time. He won’t alway
s be head of the company. Just between you and me, there’s a rumour that the international board of directors is trying to push him out. That’s why they’ve packed him off on this sightseeing tour.’ He paused. ‘His son isn’t likely to be such a philanthropist, from what I hear.’
Thinking of the triumph on Nate’s face last night, Tess felt a little sick. He’d been so sure he’d won. Gradually, she became aware of the lengthening silence on the other end of the line.
‘Anyway,’ Mark said, ‘I didn’t call you just to talk about C.J. Mackersey.’
She waited.
‘The thing is.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well – I kind of need a favour.’
‘Of course,’ Tess said anxiously. ‘Anything.’
‘I have to go to this charity thing in Queenstown in a couple of weeks,’ he said, sounding deeply uncomfortable. ‘It was all organised months ago. The thing is – well, the people who invited me are paying for the table. You know how it is.’
No. Not at all.
‘The thing is …’
What was the goddamn thing?
‘They’ve got me down for two seats,’ Mark said. ‘They’re expecting me to bring someone. A guest. I’m sorry, Tess, I hope this isn’t too weird, but I couldn’t think who else down there I could ask. I was wondering if you’d go with me.’
Tess blinked.
‘Look, it doesn’t matter,’ he said quickly. ‘You’re probably busy. I just thought – well, it should be a good night. It’s a white-tie ball, dinner, the whole shebang. And it’s at The Reef, so the food should be pretty good. I thought it might help make up for yesterday.’
‘Sure.’ She hurried to put him out of his misery. ‘No, that sounds great. I’d love to go.’
‘Thank you.’ He certainly sounded like he meant it. ‘You’re a lifesaver. Really. Since Rachel left, it’s been – well, it’s bloody embarrassing turning up at these sorts of things alone.’
‘Not a problem.’ She frowned at the phone cord, still unsure whether she was accepting a date or corporate hospitality. ‘It sounds like a laugh. Just send me the details and I’ll be there with my ball gown on.’ Oh god. She was going to have to buy a ball gown.
‘I’m staying at The Reef,’ Mark said. ‘If you like, I can book you a room there as well – my treat, of course. I don’t want you driving home.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘It’s the very least I can do.’ The old authority was back in his voice. ‘I want you to have a good time.’
You? Not us? Maybe it was just a corporate thankyou present. A performance bonus, like the HiLux. Except that she hadn’t done anything. Other than agree to go to a function with Mark. Oh, this was why you weren’t supposed to fall for your boss. Simple things became difficult – fast.
Riding the quad bike up to the terraces half an hour later, Tess replayed the conversation over and over in her mind. Date, or not date? She was desperate for a second opinion, but it was way too early to even try to raise Roxy, and she couldn’t think of anyone else she could ask who wouldn’t automatically disapprove. Not her mother, that was for sure. Mark was the only man in Tess’s life Elaine didn’t think she belonged with. But he’s your boss, would be Elaine’s first words. You can’t date your boss. The same words she’d say herself if it was anyone else. If it was anybody but Mark.
For the last seven years, she’d been waiting to meet somebody she liked as much as him. A guy she could respect, and trust, a guy who listened to her, a guy who was all the things she admired. It hadn’t happened. And the more time that went by, the less likely it was beginning to seem that it ever would.
Feeling a momentary lift of the front wheels beneath her, Tess forced her full attention back where it belonged. The slope was getting steeper. As the shortcut she’d set out to make began to look overly ambitious, she hopped off, manoeuvred the bike through a cautious U-turn, and jammed the handbrake back on. She was nearly at the top anyway. Scrambling up the last few metres on foot, Tess stood looking back over the valley.
The peaks on the far side of the river were dark, the sky behind them black with the sort of cloud you might think, if you didn’t know better, spelled rain. The wind was circling, unable to settle on a direction to blow. A gust shoved at her shoulderblades, vanishing like a kid pulling a doorbell prank as she turned. At the edge of her sight, a rabbit bolted.
There were patches of sun moving over the terrace, picking out clumps of invading hieracium among what remained of the oversown grass. Tess shook her head. It was a bloody funny place to be thinking about ball gowns. She walked on, making her way slowly across the gently undulating ground, checking out the pasture she’d come to see.
Was that gorse? Spotting a rogue seedling making a home for itself among the stones of a dry kettle hole, she stepped down to pull it out. As she searched the ground for more, a tiny skink scurried from her shadow, disappearing between the rocks.
Straightening up, she was surprised to see a couple of Nate’s dogs trotting towards her. Behind them, the Mazda chugged slowly, windows down, as if he was looking for something. Realising it might be her, Tess stepped out of the hole.
Bumping over the remaining ground at a slightly faster pace, Nate pulled up beside her. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, wondering why it wouldn’t be. ‘Fine.’
‘I saw the bike.’
Oh. That probably did look bad.
‘It seemed a strange place to park it,’ he said.
‘Sorry.’ Tess brushed her palms on her jeans. ‘No, I’m all in one piece.’
‘So I see.’
‘Didn’t mean to scare anyone.’
‘It’s a tricky slope,’ he observed.
‘Yeah, I worked that out.’ She smiled. ‘Eventually.’ As the wind caught at her shirt, she folded her arms across her ribs. ‘I’ll stick to the track next time.’
‘Well,’ he said. ‘I guess I’ll leave you to it.’ Reaching for the gear lever Nate paused, as if trying to make up his mind about something. He looked up at her again. ‘You can get down from there, right?’
Tess laughed. ‘I’m good.’ She studied his face, checking for signs of a hangover. Apart from the fact that he hadn’t shaved, which was nothing unusual, he looked – she swallowed. He looked good.
‘What?’ he demanded.
‘Just wondering if you finished that bottle without me last night.’
He shook his head, his eyes sparkling clear as ever. ‘I thought I’d better save some for next time you drop by.’ Below the stubble, his cheek dimpled. ‘I might need it.’
‘We both might.’
His smile flashed wider. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Dreamlessly,’ she lied, with a grin. ‘How about you?’
‘It’s funny,’ he said, ‘I had this strange dream about shoes. It must have been the whisky.’
‘I think Mark might have asked me out this morning,’ Tess blurted, the huge news finally bursting out of her like a cork from a shaken champagne bottle. Nate was the perfect person to tell – he had no moral compass at all.
‘You think?’ he said. It was the first time she’d seen him look shocked.
‘It was hard to tell.’
‘Are you going somewhere with him?’ Nate frowned. ‘Just the two of you? Outside of work?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then he asked you out.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it is.’
‘You really think so?’
‘Where’s he taking you?’
‘A charity ball in Queenstown. It’s at The Reef.’
‘Nice,’ he said wryly. ‘I hear.’ He nodded. ‘Well. Good for you.’
Yes. Yes, it was. She had every right to be happy about it. And that flutter she felt was just nerves. Cold feet about things changing between her and Mark. Because to be feeling something else when she looked at Nate – now, of all times – would be toweringly, monumentally, irrecove
rably dumb.
His dogs leapt onto the tray as he shifted into reverse, and Tess raised a hand as the Mazda lumbered off out of sight. She could be about to get into a relationship that might actually go somewhere. Okay, Mark was her boss, and okay, he was going through a divorce, but she’d rather take her chances with that than join the collection in Nate McAdam’s nightstand of hearts. It must be pretty suffocating in there.
If, if, Nate was right, and Mark had asked her out on a bona fide date, then it meant he thought they had a future together past breakfast. Otherwise the risk was too great. And if she knew Mark at all, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. That was what she should be focusing on. That, and what the hell she was going to wear.
•
‘Something that says I’ve lusted after you for seven years, take me now,’ Roxy said gleefully, when Tess finally managed to get her to Skype in. ‘But classy.’ She shoved another spoonful of something violently green into Kennedy’s mouth. ‘And don’t try to flirt. You can’t do it to save yourself.’
‘Hey,’ Tess protested, ‘I can flirt.’
‘Sure you can,’ Roxy said, wiping goo off her shirt. ‘Until you realise you’re actually into the guy. Then you just sit there and give him that look.’
‘What look?’
‘The one where you widen your eyes and think you’re being all meaningful and your face goes completely blank like he’s bored you into a coma.’
‘Thanks,’ Tess said acidly. Was there any chance of getting Roxy back to the point? ‘So you do think it’s a date, then?’
‘Maybe he hasn’t decided yet. Maybe it’s a test run.’ Glancing up into the camera, Roxy grinned. ‘No pressure.’
Tess rolled her eyes.
‘Babe,’ Roxy said, ‘just relax and be you. You, but in a really hot dress.’
‘Yeah, I’ll pop out to David Jones at lunchtime.’
‘Hey, it’s not my fault you live in a cow paddock.’
‘Sheep paddock,’ Tess corrected, ‘mostly, this time.’
By the following Monday, time, or lack of it, had taken the wardrobe decision out of Tess’s hands. She was wearing the dress she’d worn to Ash’s wedding. Taking a break from Googling ‘white tie’, Tess looked, again, at the formal ball invitation Mark had sent her. How much should she read into the fact that the email had come from Mark’s personal account? Taking the hint, she’d replied from hers. Confirmation of her room reservation had followed.