Run For the Hills

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Run For the Hills Page 3

by Carla Caruso

The sliding door rattled open and a smiling Bridie stood in the entrance. He handed her the bed linen and nodded at the hot pink, feathery dreamcatcher he could now see behind her. ‘Good to see you’ve made yourself at home.’

  ‘Oh, ha. You like it?’ Bridie set the linen aside and played with a glass heart locket, half-filled with pink crystals, at her neck. ‘My aunt picked up the hanging at a craft fair—just thought I’d like the colour—though it’s more my friend Megz’s type of thing. Apparently Native Americans believe the night air’s filled with dreams and this’ll trap the bad ones and let the good dreams slip through.’ She shrugged petite shoulders. ‘Wherever I hang it, it feels like home.’

  ‘You travel a lot?’

  Bridie ducked a look down. ‘Only recently.’

  Not for the first time he wondered who this woman of mystery really was. And what she was fleeing from. But it wasn’t his business, only weddings were right then. So he simply said, ‘All set for the tour?’

  ‘I am, indeed.’

  They headed outdoors and he found Russ the gardener walking their way. Cody lifted his hand in a wave, even though he felt weird around the guy now, knowing the fate of the family property lay in his hands. Why did his dad have such looney-tune ideas? Russ was a nice enough bloke, but he was also as old-school and by-the-book as their father. He’d want to honour what his best mate had asked of him, no matter what, unfortunately.

  ‘Morning, Russ.’ Cody stopped on the grass. ‘Please meet Bridie Porter, our new employee. I’m giving her a quick property tour.’

  One thing Russ couldn’t know was how short-lived he and his brothers’ plans were for the joint wedding venture. If Russ believed they were in it for the long-haul, the better their chances at getting their rightful inheritance.

  Russ’s blue eyes twinkled amid his tanned, sun-creased face. ‘G’day to you both. And, Bridie, make sure Cody shows you the forest of exotic trees and ferns I helped Valentine plant. It’s a magical spot.’

  Bridie nodded dreamily. ‘Sounds it.’

  But, once he was alone with her again, it was an old red oak tree beside the lake, that saw her squealing. ‘It’s decorated like a Christmas tree.’

  Cody looked up at the branches overloaded with tinsel, baubles and ribbon. Somewhere amongst it all a magpie squawked. ‘You can blame Jaxon for that. Dad used to do it every year and Jaxon’s continued the tradition. Dad planted the tree to honour his old Collie, Mango, and every year we have a picnic breakfast out here with the rellies. In the past, Dad would come up with a heap of over-the-top Christmas games to play.’

  Bridie watched as a team of ducks paddled past. ‘You must have had some fantastic family Christmases here.’

  Cody twisted his mouth. ‘Dad went to more effort once Mum was gone. I guess so we wouldn’t feel like we were missing out in any way. Even when Vance and I moved overseas, he’d pretty much demand we come home for Christmas.’ Geez, his throat was thickening up now—what the hell was Bridie doing to him? He spun the spotlight her way. ‘What about you? Does your family go all out at Christmas?’

  Bridie’s gaze returned to the glass-like lake. ‘My birthday actually falls on Christmas Day, but it’s traditionally a pretty quiet, low-key affair. Just my aunt, uncle and me. Can’t expect friends not to spend the day with their families. Though, my mate, Megz, always drops around in the evening. I don’t have any grandparents left, or siblings or cousins or anything. But my aunt’s great at all the old-style festive recipes and she’ll cook up a feast and a big birthday trifle, even though there’s only a few of us.’

  ‘A Christmas baby, huh?’ His mind raced for a subtle way to gauge the whereabouts of her parents—curiosity had got the better of him, after all—but Bridie made a show of looking at her pearly-white watch.

  ‘Ooh, looks like we’ll have to finish up the tour another day. Crystal will be Skyping any second.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ He followed behind as she took off.

  Maybe later he’d get a chance to learn about the rest of her family. In spite of himself, when it came to Bridie, he couldn’t help but want to know more.

  * * *

  ‘… And these are what I’m going to walk down the aisle to Rhinestone Cowboy in.’

  Bridie pressed a hand to her mouth as Crystal, her hair as red as Outback dust, held up ivory cowboy boots to the camera. Boots decorated with sequins, pearls and beaded lace. Who knew the bride-to-be would be such a cowgirl?

  ‘They’re perfect,’ Bridie enthused. The Belshaw boys, surrounding Bridie at her new desk, feigned enthusiastic noises, though clearly had zilch interest in the footwear.

  Okay, so the boots weren’t Bridie’s usual style either, but she could tell they suited Crystal as well as a Beccy Cole song. And Crystal and Bo seemed so happy together on-screen, it was lovely to watch.

  Bo leant in, stroking his brown, wiry beard. ‘The boots will complement our Akubras.’

  ‘Very cool,’ Bridie exclaimed.

  The duo’s wedding was certainly shaping up to be different to the one she was recently involved in. Or almost involved in. It was as refreshing as a spring breeze.

  Crystal’s expression grew sombre. ‘Of course, while celebrating, we don’t want to forget the townspeople who’ve been displaced or experienced loss because of the recent bushfire. So instead of a wedding gift registry, we’re planning to have a bucket going around, to help raise funds for the bushfire appeal.’

  Bridie’s eyes prickled with moisture. Maybe diving into this type of work was exactly what she needed to restore her faith in humanity.

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ Cody said beside her.

  Bo nodded on-screen. ‘Thanks … Ah, seeing as a lot of our guests will be coming from afar, I was wondering if there’d be enough room on-site for people to maybe throw down a swag and camp under the stars? I know accommodation would be tight in the area and we want our guests to really feel like they can kick up their heels for the night.’

  ‘Sure, there’d be plenty of room.’ Vance made the executive decision on Bridie’s left. ‘We’d love to have whoever’s keen to camp.’

  Crystal and Bo glanced at each other, then Crystal turned back to the camera with a beam. ‘Let’s make this hoedown official then. Please book us in at Goldlake this Saturday.’

  Bullseye.

  ‘With pleasure,’ Cody said smoothly while Bridie tried to rein in the stupid grin threatening to overtake her face. ‘We look forward to celebrating your special day with you. Bridie will get the formal documentation to you in the meantime.’

  As soon as the call ended, the boys leapt out of the chairs they’d dragged over and started on the high-fives. Bridie didn’t miss out on the latter either. And, for a nanosecond, she felt less of an only child and almost like part of their big, noisy family.

  ‘Nice work, team member,’ Cody told her, making her stomach dip. Nope, there was nothing sibling-like about her reaction to him, unfortunately. Though she needed another office crush about as much as she needed one more pair of pink heels.

  As she said a shy thanks to him, a champagne-like pop sounded in the background. Vance had magic-ed up a bottle and some plastic flutes.

  ‘A toast to our first customer,’ he announced, handing Bridie the first flute of gold fizz. ‘Had it on ice just in case.’

  She swallowed a heady mouthful, then returned her view to her PC. The boys hung back at their wall-length desk adjacent, drinking bubbly and talking photography. But she was still an outsider, just doing what she was paid for; she couldn’t afford to fraternise too much.

  After speeding off the contract to Crystal via her new work email, it was time to organise business ads for Gumtree, Facebook and the local rag. She’d already got the okay from Cody. Bridie clicked on her desktop’s internet icon and a news site popped up as her homepage.

  For a moment, she forgot she was in a male-dominated office. ‘Speaking of weddings, gossip! Paloma Romeo just got married in secret.’

  Her sense o
f professionalism had clearly gone straight out the lakefront window. Thankfully, Vance and Jaxon were already heading over for a gawk at her screen. Cody, strangely, stayed put, an indecipherable expression on his face. Maybe the news just reminded him of the work he was missing out on.

  ‘Paloma just Instagrammed a pic of herself in her gown,’ Bridie informed Vance and Jaxon, seeing as they seemed vaguely interested. ‘Apparently she tied the knot with that actor guy, Fergus Ashton, though who even knew they were dating? Plus, she’s always said she wasn’t the marrying kind.’

  ‘Her dress looks like a Marchesa design,’ Vance murmured near Bridie’s shoulder. ‘The label’s a celeb favourite.’

  ‘Wonder if she’ll release a wedding video,’ Jaxon chimed in.

  Whatever the case, the songstress looked worthy of breaking the internet in her ivory, pearl-adorned, frothy gown, which beautifully offset her ebony skin. Bridie could clearly imagine how exquisite the dress would feel to wear … the swish of the extravagant fabric, the intricate corsetry against her skin, the feeling like she was starring in her own fairy-tale …

  Jaxon cut through her thoughts with a remark directed at Cody. ‘How much do you reckon the honeymoon “pap” shots would sell for? The couple are tipped to be headed to Mexico next.’ He winked. ‘Maybe you could make a quick trip over there before the wedding here this weekend.’

  Cody crossed tanned, muscular arms over his chest. Yup, Bridie noted and appreciated the guns, in spite of herself. ‘Seeing as Paloma was quick to post a shot of her so-called secret wedding, she’s probably already organised her own paparazzo. Bet the marriage will last as long as Jennifer Lopez’s usually do, and she’s really got a new album to push.’

  The bitterness in his voice surprised Bridie, but it had to be just sour grapes about being stuck here—with his old memories, and ordinary folk like her.

  ‘Ever photographed Paloma before?’ she asked in an effort to subtly divert the conversation.

  Cody’s expression remained stony. ‘I’ve shot too many celebrities to remember them all.’

  It was the kind of question-dodging response she’d usually expect from a politician.

  Chapter 3

  Cody joined Bridie in grabbing lunch down the main street. He needed some air, a change of scenery, after the Paloma wedding head-fuck.

  As much as he didn’t want to care, he wondered how far the popstar would go to ‘consummate’ the Hollywood marriage, play her role. Damn it. He had to stop his brain’s bloody merry-go-round. It was the last time he’d let his emotions get in the way of his work. Confuse a story subject with anything real.

  Bridie had combined the lunch run with dropping off business flyers, fresh from the printer, at each shop they passed. Her idea. She had more reliability in her little pinkie than Paloma had in her entire body.

  Here Bridie came now from the butcher’s, which was overrun with Christmas decorations like the rest of the quaint, roadside stores. She fell into step beside him again as a fragrant sweetness, like Christmas mince pies, drifted on the breeze … or was it her? Ms Jingle Belle?

  She shot him a sideways look. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask, what will happen with Goldlake after your month is up, presuming the business is a success? Which is highly likely. Will any of you stay on?’

  Cody rubbed his jaw, the stubble scraping. ‘Jaxon will. He moved back in when Dad’s health woes started up and he’s always been a Hills boy at heart. Vance and I will still have a share in the property, but Jaxon will look after it for the foreseeable future—all going to plan. Really, he’s the one who’ll be the most cut-up if we lost the place. He and Dad were as thick as thieves.’

  ‘And it’ll be back to the bright lights of LA for you?’

  He quirked up a corner of his mouth. ‘Yep, that’s the plan.’

  ‘You must love your work over there—the thrill of the chase, the glamour, the whole bit.’

  Cody shrugged a shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t say it’s glamorous staking out a celebrity alone for hours in a blacked-out car. Or being swung at by a disgruntled star. But there is something addictive about the line of work. And of course you get a kick out of seeing your pictures splashed around the world.’

  Bridie nodded. ‘Plus, it’s not the kind of job you’d do forever, right? With all the late hours and travel and stuff. So you’ve got to seize everything it offers now.’

  A frown curled his lips. She sounded like she was parroting his father. His voice came out steelier than intended. ‘To be honest, I don’t really see an endpoint, aside from maybe branching out with my own picture agency. I’ve got nothing planned in the future that’ll hold me back.’

  ‘Marriage and kids’ were the unspoken words that hung in the air. Maybe a shrink —the kind Hollywoodites frequented—would say he had issues around not wanting to end up like his father … forever stuck in a rut, misplaced, should a relationship end in heartbreak. But after Cody had risked opening himself up to something permanent with Paloma, keeping his heart under lock and key didn’t seem a bad idea.

  ‘Fair enough,’ Bridie replied noncommittally. ‘I’ll just go drop some flyers at the Asian grocer’s.’

  ‘No problems.’ He hung back on the footpath as Bridie sped in. Within seconds, she was back by his side.

  She continued the conversation as they walked. ‘So how’d you get into paparazzi work?’

  He shrugged. ‘I was a bit of a globetrotter in my twenties and wound up in LA for the surfing. A guy from an entertainment photo agency saw me taking candid pics at the beach. Maybe he liked the way I used a camera or the light or something. Anyway, he said they were one short on their freelance team that night, and if I wanted some easy money, he had work for me. I did the job, got the shots they wanted, and never looked back.’

  ‘Huh, talk about land on your feet. After all these years, I guess some of the celebs must know you by name?’

  Cody strangled another grimace, though it wasn’t Bridie’s fault her comments kept hitting close to the bone. ‘Some celebs do. But then, plenty are pretty lonely and the photographers trailing them can seem like the only ones who really know them. That’s another bonus of working with big names—you soon realise how much better it is to be on the other side of the lens. To live an ordinary life.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Bridie murmured, looking off into the distance. Her gaze snapped back past his shoulder. ‘Ooh, Cornish pasties—I’d go one of those.’

  He half-smiled. ‘Good choice. Apparently the bakery uses recipes passed down for generations.’ He reached for his wallet. ‘How about you order me a steak pie as well? And while you wait in line, I’ll drop some flyers on the other side of the road.’

  ‘Sure … though, just to be clear, I’m paying for myself this time.’

  ‘Nah. I owe you something for helping land our first job. A pastie’s nothing,’ Cody insisted, holding out some cash. With reluctance, she traded her pink flyers—the colour also her idea—for his notes.

  She nodded at something else afar. ‘Hey, looks like you’ve got some competition in the paparazzi stakes.’

  He turned to see a huddle of amateur photographers snapping away at a gum tree a few metres away. Squinting against the sun, he followed their focus to a furry, grey marsupial, chomping on leaves high up in the branches.

  ‘A koala’s definitely worth a shot over another of Taylor Swift,’ he remarked.

  With a grin, Bridie waltzed away, and it was only then he realised he hadn’t asked her a single question that afternoon. She was a wily chick like that.

  * * *

  ‘Okay, so give me the details.’ Megz’s singsong voice came down the line as Bridie wandered about her temporary lounge/dining area that evening. The buttery scent of sandalwood incense was ‘purifying’ the air, just in case Megz had a sixth sense about that sort of thing and knew Bridie hadn’t gone through with her promise. Megz pushed on, ‘Where are you working? And staying?’

  Bridie plonked on the couch, he
r fingers snaking into an opened packet of FruChocs nearby. ‘I’m working for a wedding photography business, doing marketing and admin mainly. The business is actually run by triplet brothers and I’m staying in a guesthouse on their property. It’s this sprawling, semi-rural place in the Adelaide Hills. Perfectly, the contract’s just for one month.’

  ‘Hold up, weddings … and triplets,’ Megz exclaimed. Bridie could almost hear her friend’s eyes narrowing down on the other end. ‘These guys don’t also happen to be young and handsome, do they?’

  ‘Um, well, I guess you could say that, bu—’

  Megz cut her off. ‘You’re staying with three hot brothers you’ve just met, on their property in a backwater town? Don’t you think that might be unwise after all your heart’s been through lately? Even … dangerous?’

  Bridie swallowed the remnants of a chocolate-coated apricot ball. ‘The Belshaws are good guys. I know it in my gut. And they’re professionals. They needed someone who could be on-hand at odd hours while they kick-started their business, and I needed somewhere to stay. That’s all there is to it.’

  The fact that she had more of a rapport with one of the brothers was neither here nor there … right?

  ‘I’m going to meditate on this after our call. In the bath.’

  Bridie swallowed a sigh. Megz could be so overdramatic sometimes, as lovable as she was. ‘Do whatever you need to. I’m fine, seriously. Much better than I have been.’

  ‘And Rory—have you entertained contacting him yet? Before your month is up?’

  Bridie felt a clamp-like squeeze on her heart at the reminder of Rory and his floppy dark blond hair, puppy-dog brown eyes and boat tan. Characteristics that now seemed familiar and foreign all at the same time.

  ‘No, I haven’t.’ Bridie scratched her forearm. ‘But he keeps popping up in my dreams, which is annoying.’

  ‘That’s because you have unfinished business,’ Megz exclaimed. ‘You’ll have to confront him eventually. You can’t run forever.’

  Unlike Bridie’s mum.

  A monstrous yowl reverberated down the line. ‘Amalfi, what are you doing?’ Megz’s old black cat, who also happened to have his own Instagram account, had clearly stolen her attention. ‘It’s not time to go outside, it’s night, you poor, confused sod.’ The line crackled, signalling Megz’s focus was back on Bridie. ‘The poor thing has dementia and has no idea what’s going on half the time. How will I be a proper witch without him?’

 

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