He walked away, hoping he hadn’t just made the second biggest mistake of his life.
Chapter 5
Lily had been annoyed with Josh’s assumption that she’d never worked, and she didn’t appreciate his hassling her about her financial situation, no matter how well meant, but she had to concede he was right—she would need money to live on while she decided what she was going to do next. A temporary job at the Lemon Tree was a perfect solution.
And this way, she could keep painting.
The café hadn’t changed at all, she thought, peering in quickly as she walked past one of its street-facing bay windows. She opened the door and bells chimed above her. She looked up and smiled. She’d loved those bells as a kid, and they still had the same effect—their melodious high-pitched tinkle made her feel like the café was excited to see her again.
It was the same. Exactly the same. Red-brick walls; well-worn wooden floors stretching to the counter and display cabinet at the rear; little wooden tables, some round, some square, filling the floor space. Two sets of windows, one on either side of the front door, let light in at the front, and framed black-and-white posters of old film stars graced the walls. She’d always liked Greta Garbo.
It was nothing like the cafés in Sydney. Not fancy, not funky. Nothing remotely cutting edge. But it was clean, warm and solid. Cosy.
She walked through the already half-filled café, aware of the stares she was attracting. She wasn’t used to it—most Sydneysiders, or the ones she knew anyway, were too self-absorbed to pay such attention to anyone else—and it made her uncomfortable. Did they know who she was, all these people? Did they remember her? Is that why she could feel their interest pushing up against her?
A middle-aged woman with short, spiky silver hair was standing behind the counter, doling out pastries onto plates with tongs and rearranging what was left into strict rows and columns.
‘Hi Maureen. I’m Lily Schofield.’
Maureen paused a moment to look at her. ‘I know who you are. You were in here every summer.’
‘I remember you too. And the café.’ Lily smiled.
But Maureen wasn’t smiling back, wasn’t looking at her at all, in fact. Her full attention seemed to have returned to rearranging her cabinet of pastries.
‘So, Josh Farrell said to come in this morning, that you might have a job for me,’ Lily battled on.
Maureen stopped properly then and looked her up and down. Lily wished she’d had something more suitable to wear. Black trousers and a plain white T-shirt, those would have been perfect. The best she’d been able to come up with were black silk knee-length shorts and a loose-fitting polka-dot smock-style top. Apart from the multi-coloured spots, it was off-white. Did that count?
‘Do you have any experience?’
‘Um. No.’ Lily could feel her smile slipping. This was a stupid idea.
Maureen put the tongs on a hook in the cabinet and assessed her shrewdly. ‘Well, it’s not rocket science. We’ll give it a go. I’ll give you a quick tour, but we’re busy—too busy for me to hold your hand all day, so you’ll have to work it out as you go. Most of it’s common sense. Greet people as they come in, help them find a seat if they need it. Take orders. Orders for cooked food go back to the kitchen, anything in the cabinets you can put on plates yourself. Deliver meals to the tables once they’re ready.’ She pushed the plates loaded with Danishes towards Lily. ‘These go to table five.’
Did all that mean she got the job?
‘Okay,’ she said before Maureen could change her mind, and reached for the plates.
The morning passed in a blur. Not that she minded—being on her toes the whole time meant she didn’t have time to think too much about whether she was doing an okay job.
It also gave her an excuse to keep moving. Because yes, everyone did seem to know her. They knew exactly who she was and they were keen to talk. Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her—after all, her family had been part of Yarrow since the town itself was founded—but it did. Everyone seemed to know that her parents had died, and they offered their condolences. They asked her why she was back and what she planned to do. They shared their memories of her as a child, or more often, memories of her mother. It was a little strange and a little awkward, but not entirely unpleasant. Still, she was grateful to be able to keep moving.
She got through to two o’clock, an hour before she was due to finish up, without any serious problems.
‘Waitress.’
Lily turned to face the severe-looking woman with a short dark bob and a sour expression that she’d just delivered an order to.
‘This coffee is terrible. It won’t do at all.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ll make you another one.’
‘What’s the point of that? The first cup was terrible—the second one is likely to be just as bad. Send Maureen over. I want a word to her about it.’
And just like that, her fledgling confidence vanished. Had she been making bad coffee all day? Probably. Maureen had given her a quick tutorial on working the coffee machine, but it hated her, and the feeling was mutual. It spurted and hissed at her like a squat shiny monster. Like it somehow knew she wasn’t a coffee drinker and was determined to punish her for it.
‘Of course,’ she murmured, collecting the full cup.
‘Another thing: I specified rye bread. You’ve given me sourdough.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ll get you another sandwich right away.’
The woman pursed her lips. ‘I’ll have to tell Maureen about that too.’
Lily removed the uneaten sandwich as well as the cup, and waited at the cash register while Maureen finished dealing with a customer.
‘That coffee machine is temperamental. I’ll do the coffees from now on. And I’ll handle Helen.’ That was all she said.
Lily expelled a breath and got back to it. Gradually the number of customers dwindled and Maureen put up the closed sign for the day.
She’d made it through, Lily thought as she cleared away the remaining debris. More than that, she’d enjoyed it—enjoyed the change of pace and scene, enjoyed being useful again for the first time in months, and once she’d realised the spirit they were offered in, even enjoyed the stories about how outrageous her mother had been. Elisabeth was somewhat of a legend in this town—a naughty, wayward, mostly absent daughter of Yarrow, regarded with disapproving but fond amusement. She was a part of this town, part of its history, and it made Lily feel like she was part of it too. Even if she’d never be as naughty as her mother.
She hoped she saw Josh again soon. She wanted to thank him.
***
Josh was running late. He’d hoped to get to the Lemon Tree for lunch to see how Lily was doing, but he’d started helping Sean Doyle with water trading forms and the discussion had quickly become in-depth. It was just after closing time by the time he got there, but he knew the Town and Country Club were meeting there this afternoon, as they were pretty much every afternoon while they sorted out options for the new hall, so he walked in anyway. Hopefully Lily would still be around.
Checking up on her wasn’t exactly keeping his distance like he planned, but he had been the middle-man in this whole job thing, which made him kind of responsible if it all turned out to be a disaster. So it was reasonable that he came to check, right?
The café was empty except for Maureen behind the till, ringing up the day’s total. She looked up, but didn’t for a moment stop working on the job at hand.
‘Inquiring after Miss Schofield?’ she asked as he approached.
‘How’d she do?’
‘Makes the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted.’
‘Okay.’ He was hoping that his brainwave would kill two birds with one stone, but looked like it wasn’t to be. ‘Thanks anyway.’
‘Oh, she’ll do, Josh. It didn’t seem to bother the customers.’ She paused. ‘Not most of them, anyway. And,’ she added as she bound the bag she’d counted cash into, ‘she’s nice as pie to everyone
who walks into the joint, no matter what they say to her; and let me tell you, everyone is fairly curious about her return and what someone from Mirabook is doing working at a café. Some are more curious than others, of course.’ She pointed to a round table in front of one of the bay windows. ‘Murphy boys sat at that table for almost two hours, barely took their eyes off her. They drank so much coffee I wasn’t sure whether their hearts or their bladders were going to burst first.’
Lily swung through the doors from the kitchen carrying a bucket of soapy water. Even after a day’s work, with her hair falling down from its bun, she looked pretty. No wonder she was garnering so much attention—among the plain-dressing residents of Yarrow, she stuck out like an exotic peacock among a flock of pigeons.
‘I’ve finished packing the dishwasher,’ she said to Maureen, ‘so I thought I’d wipe over the tables.’ She stopped when she saw him. ‘Oh, hi, Josh.’
He raised a hand and she continued to the front of the café, set down the bucket and started wiping.
‘And,’ Maureen continued under her breath, ‘I can’t fault her work ethic. She hasn’t stopped since she turned up this morning.’
Well, good. Maybe this was all going to work out after all.
He’d talked to his business partners, explained that there was a slight hold-up but that it should be resolved soon. They hadn’t been too worried. And if Lily was going to stay for the month, it was much healthier for her to be earning some money and interacting with humanity—even if that humanity was in the form of the Murphys—than hanging out at Mirabook all alone, day after day.
Maureen glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got five minutes before the other ladies turn up, and I need to get this money to the bank. Plus, I haven’t had a chance to check on how Kelly’s doing. First day home with the baby. So if you’ll excuse me …’
She disappeared through the doors Lily had just emerged from.
Josh walked over to Lily. ‘So, how’d it go?’
She looked up from wiping the table, smiled. ‘Everyone hates my coffee.’
‘That’s not what Maureen just told me.’ Which was sort of true. She looked so pleased, he didn’t have the heart to add any qualifiers. ‘How are things at Mirabook? The billy, the spinach, all that.’
‘I’m still alive, aren’t I?’
Yeah. Just. ‘I know you’ve been enjoying the rusticity, but you should have a nice surprise waiting for you when you get home. Let’s just say it’s now safe to buy milk.’
Her hands stilled. ‘Electricity?’
‘Yep.’
‘You got it put on for me?’
‘Yep.’
‘Thank you. That was nice of you,’ she said, resuming her task, wiping slow, meditative circles around the table. ‘And I wanted to say thank you for suggesting I come and work for Maureen too. I think it’s going to work out. It was really thoughtful of you.’
And didn’t that just reach out and squeeze him around the heart? He wasn’t as nice as Lily thought. He’d got this job for her and he was holding off on pursuing Mirabook for a month because he wasn’t a total brute. But that didn’t make him any kind of saint. Soon, Mirabook would be his, and he’d need to get the electricity reconnected anyway.
‘You’ve been so nice to me,’ she continued, dropping the washcloth into the bucket and coming to stand straight and still before him. ‘But … I don’t get it. I don’t get us.’ Her eyes met his, shifted away and then back again. She was no more comfortable than he was, but she wasn’t backing down. ‘Most of the time, I don’t even think you like me,’ she said.
Now why would that be? he was tempted to ask, but he didn’t. What the hell did she expect him to say? His feelings for Lily were the most complicated part of his life. Once upon a time, he’d loved her; now he hated her and everything she stood for. Like didn’t even come into it. He could never like her.
‘I just want to know where we stand,’ she pushed.
Couldn’t she take a hint? He wasn’t going to respond to her questions. He had his arms crossed, a back-off glare on his face. The message was clear—drop it. The more she just stood there, looking at him and waiting, the more his anger built. She had no right to demand a response. How dare she put him on the spot like this? He didn’t owe her any explanation, and she shouldn’t need one. It should be obvious.
He wasn’t hanging around for any more of this bullshit. ‘We don’t stand anywhere, Lily. There is no “we”.’
He turned to go.
‘No! Wait.’
She’d moved in close—really close—blocking his exit. Her hand was suddenly on his forearm. The bottom fell out of his stomach and a feverish jolt surged through him. He looked down at her hand, white against his tanned skin, shocked.
She took a deep breath in and out, and he realised he’d been holding his. He let it go and lifted his gaze to hers.
‘I know you must still be—’ she started.
‘I’m not discussing this with you.’ Not here, not now, not ever. Nothing she could say would change the past, and if she was looking for forgiveness, she wouldn’t find it in him.
‘I just want to—’
‘No.’
‘Josh!’ Protesting the shutdown.
Would she not let this go? He went to remove her hand from where it still rested on his arm. She shifted, and without him exactly knowing how it had happened, her hand was twined around his, resting against his chest. His heart. He looked down again, still uncomprehending. What did she do to him?
‘Josh,’ she said again, but it sounded different this time. Sadder. ‘Please.’
He knew what she wanted to say, but he didn’t want to hear it. How were they still even having this conversation? How were their hands still coupled like that?
‘I just want you to know I’m—’
His gaze rose to her mouth, he leaned forward and kissed her.
He wasn’t sure what his intention had been. To stop the words about to tumble from her lips? To shock her into letting him go? To force her to back off when all his other words and actions had been futile? It didn’t matter, because as soon as his lips touched hers, all intention fled.
He lifted his lips, drew back a fraction. She looked just as surprised as he felt. Her breath hitched, he cupped her face and his mouth founds its way back to hers.
It was chaste, as far as kisses went. Gentle, exploring and somewhat hesitant. Like the first one they’d shared ten years ago when he’d been afraid of pushing for too much too soon and driving her away. Her hands came to rest on his wrists, and he lingered, learning the feel of her soft, plump lips against his, allowing her scent, like an exotic oriental flower, to wrap itself around him. Sweet, spicy Lily.
What was he doing?
He broke the kiss, head cloudy with lust and longing but knowing he had to stop. She made a little sound in her throat, a small involuntary moan of protest, and she squeezed his forearms.
That was it, he was done for.
The next instant, he had her backed up against the wall. Her hands were at his waist, tugging and clinging at his shirt, and his were on her jaw, holding her as his mouth claimed hers. Not so gentle this time, not so chaste. When she stroked her tongue against his, his head almost exploded. She was hot and sweet beneath him, an eternal summer he was forever lost in. Pressed up against her, he couldn’t get much closer, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t near enough.
Wild, she made him wild, and it was her, always and only her.
Chimes rang, and it took a while for him to realise that it wasn’t bells sounding from heaven, but from above the door.
As in people walking into the café.
He pulled back. Lily was staring up at him, all wild eyes and bruised lips and flushed cheeks. They were both breathing in shallow pants.
How long had they been kissing like that?
Fuck.
He’d been totally lost. Totally out of control.
He’d sworn he was never going to lose his head again,
not over her, not over anyone, but there was no way he had been in control just then. He’d been thrown from the moment she’d put her hand on his arm, and he’d never quite recovered.
This was not going to happen again.
This could not happen again.
His hands fell from where they’d been cupping her face. He turned and walked out of the café, barely acknowledging Helen and Katie as he pushed past.
***
Shaken and dazed, Lily watched Josh’s retreating back. She attempted to get her breath back under control, slow her heart rate, stop her legs from collapsing underneath her. Her whole body was buzzing and tingling, as if a million tiny fireworks were going off in there.
Oh my God.
That was what she’d been waiting for.
That was who she’d been waiting for.
That was why none of the other guys she’d been on dates with had ever interested her much. She’d been waiting for something like that to happen.
That kiss … Jeez, he’d taken her. Just … taken her. She’d seen stars. She’d never quite believed that actually happened, but now she had proof.
The door closed behind him and she shifted her gaze to the two women who’d entered the café. The sour woman from before—Helen, Maureen had called her—and by her side a perky-looking woman about her own age, dressed in black slacks and a blue floral shirt, glossy dark hair tied back in a bouncy ponytail. They were both glaring at her.
‘Well. You’re a fast little operator, aren’t you?’
That brought her back to earth pretty quickly. It was Helen who had spoken, but the brunette at her side didn’t look much friendlier.
‘Sorry, we’re closed for the day,’ Lily mumbled. She was still shaking, and she wasn’t sure she had customer service in her right now.
‘Oh, really? Actually, we have a meeting here now,’ Helen responded, venom dripping from each syllable.
‘Oh. Okay.’
Lily hadn’t known about the meeting, but was that any reason for Helen to be so rude? Lily’s hand went to the handle of the bucket resting on the table, but she made no attempt to lift it. She wasn’t sure she trusted her muscles enough yet.
No Place Like You Page 5