by Jennie Jones
He laughed. He knew plenty, but didn’t think the majority were suitable for a fashionista’s perfect little ears. ‘Can’t think of a single one.’
‘Go ahead,’ she waved her hand at him. ‘I’m not a prude. I work in fashion, remember? There isn’t any part of a male body I haven’t seen naked, half-dressed or even in some state of arousal.’ That index finger of hers waved his way again. ‘Some of the younger male models can’t keep it tamed in their trousers when surrounded by half-naked young women.’
‘Really?’ He shifted his position as a twinge of jealousy poked at his gut. ‘You’re telling me you’ve slept with all these fashion boys?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m their boss. Rule number one, never sleep with the boss.’
‘Whose rule is that?’
‘Mine.’
Plenty of men must have wanted to sleep with Katie. Plenty had probably tried and failed. All ages. Eighteen to eighty.
‘What about landlords?’ The words were out of his mouth before his brain had time to register what he’d just asked her.
Even in the lamp-lit dusk he saw the blue of her eyes darken as awareness stilled her.
‘I’ve never had a landlord before now,’ she said softly. ‘I’m not sure what rules I’d need to put in place.’
Her phone chirruped in the kitchen behind them.
She levered herself upright. Jamie reached across and took hold of her arm at the elbow. ‘Leave it.’
She paused, studying him by looking him directly in the eye. The sky seemed to explode above them, filling the space between them with the light of a million falling stars. Jamie didn’t lose eye contact, and neither did she.
After a few moments, she relaxed back on the sun lounger. The mobile phone chirruped three more rings then stopped.
‘I wanted something tangible from my business,’ she said quietly. ‘And I had it, for a long time.’
Jamie sighed his relief as silently as possible. She’d chosen to ignore his question about sleeping with landlords. Thank God, because he didn’t know where he might have taken things if she’d answered him. ‘So when do you think you lost it?’
She laughed, but it was a dull sound, not one he’d expected from her. It’s tone belittling. Of herself, he realised. ‘I have two choices, Jamie. Either I give Jacques the go-ahead to send Sensations out into the up-beat, up-market world or I go under.’
‘Surely not?’ He couldn’t see Katie going under for anything or anyone. Parrots or fashion moguls.
‘He’s got me by the Velcro curlers. Tight enough to need to snip off half a head of well-groomed hair in order to get free.’ She angled her head his way, catching his gaze. ‘I was in New York last week. At a fashion shoot. I knew things were tough and that he was doing the devious behind my back but I’d ignored it, hoping for the best — whatever I’d thought the best might be.’ She shuddered slightly. ‘I got a call from him on my last night in New York. He’d brokered a deal behind my back. A great deal. An enormous opportunity for my young designers to shine.’
‘And the problem with that is?’
She looked up at the sky. ‘It’s not what I built my business to be. And I don’t know if I can go along with it. He wants to forge ahead into the big-time. Hit the catwalks world-wide. But that means damaging my vision for what’s real for the women in the world.’
‘Do you need to go along with it?’
She nodded. ‘If I don’t, Sensations will go under and Jacques will broker the deal anyway.’
‘With a new company,’ Jamie said, figuring it out. ‘A new company he’s in sole charge of, taking your designer people off you and making the money anyway.’
She blew her breath out. ‘You got it.’ She shifted on the lounger. ‘God, let’s get off the subject. This starlight thing is making me feel exposed.’
Jamie smiled at her. She had an extraordinary tenacity. One she used to broker her emotions. Not necessarily a healthy way of dealing with problems, but who was he to say she should be reasoning with herself on a different level, a different plane?
‘Let’s talk about you.’ She angled her head to look behind her, at the house. ‘Wonderful house. I mean, it’s so different from anything in town. It’s not an Australian style.’
Jamie relaxed into the new conversation, happy to be away from personal causes, his or hers. He leaned across to the side table between them, pulled the Chardonnay bottle out of the ice bucket and topped up her wine. ‘Oh, it’s got its Aussie heritage here and there.’ The basics of the build, the materials used, the plumbing. But she was right, the style was undoubtedly European.
‘Who built it?’ she asked.
‘A couple who moved here fifty years ago. He was an astronomer, she was a gardener. She died first then five years ago he did. He left the house to their son, an amateur astronomer who apparently travelled quite a bit. He didn’t want to be tied down with a house so he put it on the market.’ Jamie hadn’t gone into the happenstance of it too much although he’d recognised it as a coincidence; him being a journeyman, like the amateur astronomer, and since he’d seen the shooting star on one of his first nights in town.
He’d been in Kookaburra’s — before it had been sold. He’d left before closing and had been standing on the walkway under a crescent moon when he looked up and caught sight of the flight of a shooting star.
‘A stargazer,’ Kate said. ‘That’s amazing. You’ll never guess what.’
Jamie raised an enquiring eyebrow, pretty sure he was going to find out what.
‘The reason I came here is because of a shooting star.’
The hair on the back of Jamie’s neck prickled his skin.
‘That night I told you about, after the shoot in New York. I stepped out onto the street and as the concierge was calling for a taxi I looked up and saw a shooting star. A real one,’ she said with emphasis, as though such a sight had never before been seen. ‘I was mesmerised. But the strange thing is — nobody else around me saw it. Nobody looked up. They were going about their business, heads down. Except me. I saw it.’ She paused. ‘And I knew it was mine.’
Jamie paused, remembering his own star. Yes, he’d claimed it as his. And the moment it disappeared, he’d made his decision to stay in Swallow’s Fall. ‘I’m sure your star was beautiful,’ he said softly, imagining her standing on a busy night street in New York City, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with wonder.
He shifted on the lounger and grabbed his bottle of beer from the side table. She’d seen her star only a week ago. Jamie had seen his over two months ago. Nothing coincidental or fateful about that. Shooting stars rode the sky every night and somewhere in the world, someone saw one and imagined fate was leading them to something.
His thoughts went to Sammy. Was she matchmaking here? Sammy was a great one for breaking a guy down. Somehow she’d got him to tell her about the shooting star. They’d been discussing the new surgery and the heritage style both she and Ethan wanted, and Jamie had practically spilled his guts about Silver Bells House and his strange need to settle down. It had been easy talking to both Sammy and Ethan. They’d taken on a role of leadership in town. Everyone loved and admired them. They were a happy couple, and of course Sammy would still be seeing stars herself, having only been married a year or so.
She’d have been pulling a fast one mind you, shoving him and Katie together. He ought to back away from the companionable sensations that were becoming more and more settling every hour he spent with Katie. Jamie wasn’t staying in the country for the rest of his life. He was a journeyman. He’d use the house as his base, but wouldn’t always be living in it. A lot depended on Megan, too. And Katie wouldn’t leave the city. He’d bet on it. She’d go back.
‘Why did the original owners call it Silver Bells House?’ she asked.
‘After the Christmas Bells plant. The one with the red bell-like hanging flowers.’
‘I know the one. Tipped with saffron-yellow. But where does the silver part come fro
m?’
‘He liked the silver in the stars and his wife liked the Christmas blush in the flower bells.’ Jamie closed his mouth before he confessed that he’d been so fascinated he’d asked around town and got the information he wanted. If he told her all this he’d make himself look soft. Romantic, if not a little soppy. ‘How about we go inside now? Feeling the evening chill.’ He levered himself off the lounger and stood.
She held her hand out to him. ‘Are there any planted here?’
Jamie shook his head. ‘I’ve seen some in Canberra, but I’m not sure if they’d be suitable for the soil here.’ He took her hand, reluctantly, and felt the roar of attraction hit his veins the moment he touched her.
‘But you’re going to try and grow them, right?’ she asked as he pulled her up to stand.
‘I doubt I’ll have time.’ He didn’t tell her he’d already sourced a nursery and researched the possibility of recreating a sandy limestone rockery. That sounded too damned soppy and he was already feeling way too romantic while standing with beautiful Katie under the stars.
Chapter 8
‘You’re up. Thought you might’ve slept in again.’ Jamie was stamping the dust off his work boots onto the doormat in the portico as Kate opened the front door to let him in.
‘I’m all slept out,’ she said. ‘Where’ve you been?’ She’d woken late again, at eight, and Jamie and his monster truck had gone.
He nodded behind him. ‘Chopped down the Christmas tree for the town.’
‘Oh.’ Uncomfortable prickles settled inside her as saw the huge tree strapped onto the back of his ute, the top branch hanging over the windscreen of the cab and the glossy tip bent, just waiting for the angel. Kate wasn’t an angel-loving person because of her middle name: Angelica. It wasn’t the name so much, but the way she’d been given it. ‘Are you getting one for the house?’
‘Well of course we are. It’s Christmas.’
‘Mmm.’ She stepped back to let him into the hall. ‘Not fond of Christmas this year.’
‘I can’t chop one down for the house yet anyway. That whopper is taking up the whole tray-back on the ute.’ He moved by her, not looking at her, and walked towards the kitchen. ‘I can hear my paintwork screaming as the pine scratches it.’
Kate pulled a face as she closed the front door. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one in a don’t-know-what-to-do-with-myself mood. ‘Where did you get it from?’ she asked, following him into the kitchen and heading for the coffee pot.
‘Ray Smyth’s place. He farms the other side of the hill that shelters the town. Keeps a small patch of forest, just for Swallow’s Fall Christmas trees.’
‘Oh.’ How accommodating of him, growing a forest for the town. And since Jamie had got the tree, maybe the feud was over. Wonder who got the Santa suit.
‘Coffee?’ she asked, pouring into his big workman-size white mug.
‘Thanks.’ He took the offered mug, still not looking at her.
‘What are we doing today? Can I give you a hand with the wall down the road? Or the surgery, or something? I’ll need to borrow gloves but I’ve got my own wellies.’ She grinned, but he didn’t see it.
‘I’m taking a day off. Got to wait on the sparkies laying cable before I can continue the build at the surgery. What were you intending to do?’ He glanced at the chalkboard, reminding her she was supposed to making The Decision but she hadn’t listed anything else on the board.
After talking to Jamie last night, this morning she’d awakened to a genuinely sad fact. She had nowhere she wanted to go, even if she made The Decision.
‘It’s day six, Jamie. And all I’ve done is sleep.’
‘Perhaps you need it.’
‘There’s something weird going on.’ She picked up her own coffee mug and sipped. ‘I never sleep past six in the morning and now I’m lying in until eight or nine o’clock and then I need an afternoon nap. God. What’s with me?’
Her mobile chirruped with birdcall. She pulled it out of the pocket of her flare-legged, navy polka-dot shorts. ‘Kate Singleton, Singleton’s Sassy Sensation. Mm-mm. Uh-huh. No. Sorry. Bye.’ She hit End Call and looked up at Jamie, her mouth curved in the same rueful manner her frame of mind had settled into. ‘No decision. As if you hadn’t guessed.’
‘Why do you answer the calls when you obviously have no intention of helping out whoever is on the other end?’ Jamie asked. ‘Is it Fat Jacques?’
‘It was his assistant, Sahra. And it’s a ploy. I’m winding them up.’
The birdcall sounded once more. ‘Kate Singleton, Singleton’s…’
Jamie took the phone off her. How had he got to her side so quickly? He put it to his ear and spoke. ‘She’s busy. She’s going to be busy for the next six days. Now go away.’ He pressed the End Call button and then switched the mobile off.
‘What are you doing?’ Kate said, making a grab for her phone.
He held it up high. ‘No phone calls to or from work.’
‘What? I’m dangling them on a string, but not to the point where I don’t know what’s going on. I have email contact on that phone, you know. You can lose a model or a shoot or a design request like that!’ She clicked her fingers. ‘I’m working behind their backs.’
‘This isn’t getting any decision made, Katie. You’ve got to leave them to it and find your own way forwards. Or out of it. What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know, alright? But I can’t go without my phone.’
‘No phone. Not for work. Only for if you need me.’
‘Why would I need you?’
Jamie sighed and dropped his arm to his side. ‘The way you’re behaving at the moment, you’re going to need me for something. Just don’t make it everything. I don’t need to know if you chip a nail or lose a shoe. I’m talking life or death moments.’
She gasped. ‘You think I’m likely to have life or death moments?’ She looked across at the chalkboard, eyes blinking. ‘Should I chalk it up?’
Jamie shook his head. ‘The country isn’t ready for you, Katie.’ He handed her the phone. ‘Keep the phone switched off but keep it in your pocket.’ He turned and walked towards the hall.
He stopped in the doorway. ‘What are you doing today?’
She shrugged and strummed her nails on the bench top. ‘No idea. What do you want me to do today? This is the bloody country. There’s nothing to do!’
‘Katie.’
Annoyance and frustration swelled. ‘What?’ she demanded.
‘While I’m not keen to get my Bojangles mangled, might I risk an observation?’
She folded her arms. ‘It’s your house.’
‘You’re behaving like Contrary-Katie again. Sit down or something.’
‘Sit down? I’ve been sitting down for days.’ And what was it with the sudden temperamental manner? He’d gone all Excavator-man on her. Where had the generous landlord gone? The one who’d sat under the stars last night and offered her… Well, she wasn’t sure if he’d actually offered the opportunity of, you know, sleeping with him. But it had sounded pretty close to an offer to Kate’s ears.
She gave him a filthy look but it backfired when she got snagged in his penetrating brown gaze. His eyes held hers, piercing into her, and the frown on his brow deepened.
Kate trembled. She licked her lips and tried to take her eyes away from his but couldn’t. He definitely had gritty, masterful sides to him. And they were a lot yummy.
‘There’s plenty to do, if you look for it,’ he said. ‘Or if you’d prefer to mope around here, go ahead. Be my guest.’
She was his guest. And she wasn’t moping, she had nothing to do.
‘Otherwise drive into town with me and help us decorate Main Street.’
Oh, God. Fun stuff. But she did want to know how Mrs Tam had got on with the strawberry-marshmallow ice cream recipe. And what Gemma might have drawn. Another chat with Grandy would help. And perhaps, if they were really lucky, they’d get to see Mr Tillman and Mr Penman draw swords an
d whip each other’s backsides down Main Street. Or better yet, Mrs Tillman and Mrs Penman would have a tug of war with the Santa suit.
‘Oh, alright then.’ If he insisted.
****
‘Hot tomatoes, everyone’s here.’ Kate cringed in the passenger seat of Jamie’s ute, pressing her knees together as they entered the town.
‘You mean hot potatoes,’ Jamie said, slowing down and parking at the southernmost tip of Main Street, by the rundown Town Hall. ‘Best park here for the moment.’
‘Good idea. That way we have a quick getaway if we need one.’ It looked like every town resident had turned out for the Christmas bunting party. The street was lined with parked cars with Go Slow signs and orange cones placed at either end of the street, warning unsuspecting tourists or passers-through that Swallow’s Fall was in full Christmas swing.
‘We’ll be here all day, Kate,’ Jamie said.
‘Great.’ Kate got out of the car and stood by the ute while Jamie got some gear out of the back seat. A huge metal tool box, rope and what looked like abseiling equipment. Holy snowman, was he going to get up on a roof to fix the tree in place?
‘Have you had breakfast?’ he asked as they sauntered past the petrol station and headed into the mix of people and children standing around the pioneer cemetery. ‘We’re in luck,’ he said. ‘Looks like there’s a cook-out happening.’
Bacon. The aroma wafted around Kate’s nose.
‘Ha ha — look at the horse!’ Kate pointed to the over-sized plastic neighing horse that sat to the right of the stock feeders’ doorway. Someone had put a Santa hat on its head and made a red tinsel nose-band and reins.
‘Ted must be feeling some Christmas cheer,’ Jamie said.
It was the first time today Kate had heard a smile in his voice. Funny how it made her feel safer. She was, after all, an outsider and she’d never liked large crowds. She couldn’t drum up the glitz and glamour she used to swan into meetings and shoots. Not when everything around her was wholesome and countrified. Full of community spirit. The townspeople were in their comfort zone. Kate was as out of it as a gang gang parrot stuck in a cage without a door.