“Why aren’t you eating at your posh hotel restaurant?” Shane followed him inside, Mitch almost breathing down his neck.
“Have to come and mingle with the peasants now and again.” Steve grinned at the wavy-haired man behind the counter. “Hey, Daz.”
Bracing his hands on the counter, Darren Malone, aka ‘Daz’, studied them all. “Look what the cat dragged in. The quack, the snob, and the beach bum.”
Shane grinned. “And there you are, the boyish-looking town idiot.”
Crossing to the nearest table, Mitch dropped down into a chair and clicked his fingers. “You! Boy! Bring me a menu.”
Daz ignored him. “So, Shane, joining the family business, huh?”
“I didn’t think your Dad was retiring just yet.” Steve leaned his hip against the counter.
“He’s not. Well, not entirely. Dad’s dropping back to three and a half days a week.”
Daz shrugged. “Why not? He’s worked hard all his life. Time to have some fun, do his own thing.”
“Lucky beggar,” Mitch agreed. “I could be as lucky if I had a menu.”
Daz jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the menu board behind him. “Read it, dickhead.”
“Wow, the service here really sucks.” Kicking out his legs, Mitch crossed his ankles. “What about the hospital, Shane? Is he giving that up and you’re taking it over?”
“Being on call for emergencies?” Shane shrugged. “Nah, we’re sharing it.”
“That’ll be a bit of relief for Doc.” Steve pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll have a meat pie and chips.”
“Slumming it,” Mitch commented. “Better put a sprig of mint on that pie, Daz, otherwise Steve’s delicate palate won’t handle it.”
Steve re-pocketed his wallet. “I forgot. Mitch’s paying.”
“What? Not bloody likely.”
Daz looked at them all. “Eating here or take away?”
Shane, Steve and Mitch exchanged looks, then all three shrugged.
“Eating in it is.” Daz nodded at another table. “Take the four seater one. I’ll have my lunch with you. What are the two of you having?”
“I’ll go with what Steve’s having,” Shane said.
“Same.” Mitch nodded.
“Drinks?” Daz queried. “Home-made cold coffee with whipped cream all around?”
“Sounds good to me,” Shane replied.
It wasn’t long and the four men were seated at the table, eating, drinking and enjoying each others’ company.
Looking around contentedly at his friends as he forked up hot chips, Shane knew he’d made the right decision to return to Hope Bay, his home town. The friends he’d both grown up with and befriended when they’d come to live here making it feel as though time had rolled back and he’d never left.
“How many times have we all sat here, eating and drinking?” he mused.
Mitch paused with a piece of pie halfway to his mouth. “I never counted.”
Steve studied him over top of the tall glass of cold coffee. “What brought you back here, Shane?”
“Missed the place.”
“You couldn’t wait to leave, if I remember correctly.”
“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “But I had to. University, my practice stint, I couldn’t do it here.”
“Well, there was that, yeah. But you couldn’t wait for the bright lights and the action.”
Expression contemplative, Daz bit into his pie.
Mitch waved his fork around. “Bright lights, beautiful women, fast cars, action and drama. You wanted it all.”
“Did you get it all?” Steve queried.
Shane took the top off his pie before digging into the meat with his fork. “It was all fun and games to start with, but it soon loses its shine. You know all this.”
“How would we know it?”
“I told you.”
“What? When? In your heart-to-heart letters? In your sobbing phone calls home? Your pleading emails? Your sweet text messages?”
“Before fancy-boy gets carried away, let me make it perfectly clear to everyone at this table that I did none of those things with him.”
“That’s reassuring,” Mitch said. “I was starting to feel left out.”
Everyone paused to look at him.
“What?” His eyebrows rose. “I’m just saying I’m a SNAG. I can do sympathy.”
Steve’s top lip curled. “Next thing you’ll be dabbing at your eyes with a lace-trimmed hanky.”
“I use tissues.”
“Because that’s so reassuring.”
Mitch flipped him the bird.
“Never mind them.” Daz stabbed a hot chip. “So what made you really decide to come home?”
Shane scooped out more meat, the steam spiralling out of the pastry casing to fill the air with the mouth-watering smell. “I missed it. Yeah, the city was an experience, the country stints I had to do interesting, but over the years of study and practice, and finally working as a GP, I realised that the one place I really wanted to be was here. Home.” He smiled slightly. “You can take the boy out of Hope Bay, but you can’t take Hope Bay out of the boy.”
Mitch stared. “Did you really say that?”
Steve shook his head. “Sad. Pathetic.”
“I get you, Shane.” Daz nodded. “When I came here, I knew I’d come home. I’m happy here, I don’t want to leave.”
“You have a business here,” Mitch pointed out. “Makes a lot of difference.”
“You work here,” Daz replied calmly. “That makes a difference.”
“Good beaches, good surf.”
“Beach bum,” Steve stated.
“I work, dipstick.”
“You’re still a beach bum.”
Mitch stuck two fingers up at him.
“Classy.”
They continued to eat in comfortable silence for several minutes before Mitch broke the silence. “So, are you thinking of making changes to the clinic?”
“Nope.” Finished scooping out the meat, Shane proceeded to eat the empty pastry casing. “Why would I?”
“Just wondering. Going into partnership with your dad, I thought you’d want to update things.”
“Nothing to update. Dad has all the latest equipment a GP practice could need. I love that old building, it has character and charm. And Harriet is a hoot, I’ve known her all my life, we get on well.”
“She is that,” Mitch agreed.
“What about Emma?” Steve queried. “Your nurse?”
Shane paused.
“She’s a cutie,” Steve continued.
“Can’t argue that, but she’s also my employee.”
“Oh ho.” Eyes gleaming, Steve leaned forward. “So you’d do more if she wasn’t your employee? If you’d just met her at - say, a very fancy, highly rated, prestigious hotel?”
“Your hotel?” Shane guessed dryly.
“The only fancy, highly rated, prestigious hotel around these parts.”
“Bit like the fancy, over rated, scandalous owner.”
“Don’t be a wanker. Now, about Emma-”
“Actually, I don’t really know her yet.”
“Even after getting knocked arse over tit by her this morning?” Daz’s eyes twinkled.
“He did?” Mitch was delighted. “What happened?”
“Your concern for my well-being is duly noted.” Shaking his head, Shane crunched into more cooked pastry.
“Your massacring of a perfectly good meat pie is also duly noted, not to mention your weird-arsed way of eating it, but I’m too well-mannered to point that out, right? So come on, Daz.” Mitch turned to him. “Spill the beans.”
Steve grinned widely.
Ah, fancy boy knew all about his little encounter with Emma. Shane rolled his eyes.
“Shane was biking along-” Daz began.
“You’ve got a motorbike?” Mitch’s head snapped back towards Shane. “Cool bananas! Let’s go see it.”
“Don’t get wet w
ith excitement,” Daz said. “He was on a push bike.”
“Oh. Well.” Mitch nodded. “Good for the environment and shit. Continue, please.” He waved a hand.
“He was biking past Emma’s car just as she opened the door and bam! Shane was arse up head down, flipped over the handlebars in a manoeuvre that would have done a world champion gymnast proud.”
“Good grief.” Shane sighed. “I did not flip over the handlebars.”
“True. It was more a very embarrassing flop. Partway over the handle bars, partway to the side, but definitely head down arse up.” Daz smiled widely. “I saw it all, had prime position at the window. Made my day.”
Shane snorted.
“Bet that sweet little nurse was wiping your brow, kissing your boo-boos,” Mitch said. “Lucky bastard.”
“Actually…”
They all looked at him.
Shane scratched his head.
“Jesus.” Steve cringed. “Dandruff, mate. Watch the dandruff.”
“I don’t have dandruff.”
“Dead skin cells, then. All over the table.”
“What the hell would you know about skin cells?”
“Just that they’re nasty. Now stop scratching your noggin and finish the story. Man, I have never met such a twat that couldn’t tell a straight story.”
“And I’ve never met a bloke who could go off on tangents.”
Steve just took a big slurp of cold coffee, completely oblivious to the cream moustache it left on his upper lip.
And which no one cared enough to point out to him.
“Com on,” Mitch said impatiently. “What happened?” His eyes widened. “Wait. You didn’t rip her a new one, did you? Shit, Shane, she’s so sweet and you ripped her? What’s wrong with you, mate? Huh?”
“Settle, petal. Geez.” Shane flapped a hand at his friend. “Okay, I was a little angry, after all I was the one in the right and she was the one who should have watched what she was doing.”
“But you weren’t hurt.”
“I did get a scratch on my knee.”
“Poor baby,” Daz murmured.
Shane ignored that comment. “What annoyed me was the fact that she offered me a ride and her phone number.”
“Well, that was inconsiderate of her,” Steve said, poker-faced. “I mean, wow, the insults, they just never stop, do they?”
“She offered you her phone number and a ride?” Mitch was incredulous. “And that annoyed you? I don’t know what you learned in the city, Shane, you drongo, but that was a perfectly polite thing to do!”
“Are you nuts? I’m a stranger to her. What if I’d had nefarious plans for her sexy body and taken her up on her offer? What if I’d been some pervert and gotten in the car and attacked her or something?” Shane scowled. “No woman should offer her phone number or a ride to a strange bloke, that’s what annoyed me.”
“Ah.” Mitch nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I get where you’re coming from. True.”
“She was just concerned for you.” Daz held up a hand when Shane’s mouth opened. “Yeah, I know. Especially the ride part.”
Shane took a mouthful of cold coffee, another, and put the tall glass back on the table. “I told her that exact thing. She’s too trusting.”
They all nodded, and then Shane became aware of Steve grinning widely at him. That grin combined with the gleam in his eyes didn’t bode well.
“So,” Steve drawled, “noticed her sexy body, did you? Hmmm?”
Ah crap.
Chapter 2
Saturday morning found Emma diligently wiping down the lounge room window while frowning.
Barbies she liked. Grilled meat, salads, desserts, some fun with friends. But this barbie tonight to which she’d been invited was different, because this was to welcome her new boss both home and to the practice. Her other boss’s son, in fact.
The son she’d knocked off his bike. The boss she’d knocked off his bike. Not a good start to a working relationship.
To top it off, once he recognized her it had seemed like he was laughing at her. There’d been a definite twinkle in his eyes which would have been engaging if she hadn’t been so scared suddenly. To say she’d felt panic strike deep was putting it mildly.
Wiping down the windowsill, Emma’s frown deepened. Once he knew, would he hold it over her head? Did he perhaps already know? She hadn’t had time to ask Doc, he’d left while she’d been cleaning up the treatment room at the end of the day, leaving her and Harriet to lock up. And if - or when, definitely when - Shane knew, would he decide that he didn’t want someone like her working for him?
Sure, she’d been innocent, but where there was smoke there was fire, as people had been quite happy to whisper.
Giving a small grimace at the unwanted memory, she was more than happy to have her attention diverted by a flash of ginger. She paused to watch CK amble across the lawn, her long, lanky legs picking amongst the daisy bushes she just had to go through. No going around for CK, she trod over and through everything in her path.
Amused, Emma pushed the curtain aside to see a butterfly flutter past CK. Immediately CK froze, gold eyes widening, her easy-going amble stiffening to an alert, stiff posture as her gaze tracked the butterfly. The butterfly landed on a daisy and CK dropped into stalking mode, tail flicking and every muscle tense.
“Come on, fly you silly thing, fly,” Emma urged the butterfly.
CK crept a couple of inches closer.
Emma flapped the cloth at the window. “Fly!”
The butterfly flapped its wings but didn’t take off.
“CK! You leave that butterfly alone!” Yeah, like that’d work.
CK pounced.
The butterfly took off and CK missed it by a country mile, mostly because she was ploughing through daisy bushes with all the grace of a three-legged gazelle. Long, lanky and clumsy.
Laughing, Emma observed the disgruntled cat sniff the air before sitting down with a disapproving appearance to lick her paw, pretending she hadn’t wanted the butterfly anyway.
Pulling back from the window, Emma straightened the curtains and turned around to survey the room. All the housework was done for the week, all that was left to do was have a shower and hit the shops for some much-needed grocery shopping.
Twenty minutes later, she was standing in the pet food aisle debating on what Her Majesty would fancy this week. CK was notorious for liking variety, something that could drive Emma a little nuts at times. One hand on the trolley, she scanned the shelves. CK’s latest fad was definitely fish, but not the fish-flavoured meat. Nope, her ginger feline had decided she’d had enough of that and was now intent on full fish, which meant careful selection.
“Problem?”
She glanced sideways at the big bloke standing beside her with a grin on his face. “Hey, Mitch.”
“Hey yourself.” He gestured to the food. “CK having food issues again?”
“When doesn’t she?” Emma shook her head ruefully. “She’s on a pure fish only kick right now.”
“I can help there. I’ve got fresh fish in my freezer if you want some for her. Caught them last night.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet. But I’ll have to say no.”
His eyebrows bobbed up. “Why?”
“Well, CK’s fussy. I tried her on fresh fish several times with no luck.”
Mitch just looked at her.
“Okay, she’ll eat fish if I get it from the fish’n’chip shop, but she won’t eat it otherwise.”
“But she’ll eat this canned stuff.”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Take it up with CK.”
“I’ve never met a more spoiled cat in my life.”
She plucked a can of fish in juices off the shelf. “I’m not even going to argue that.”
“You need to show her who’s boss.”
Emma laughed in his face.
“What’s going on over here?” A dark-haired bloke with laughing light brown eyes came around the corner push
ing a loaded trolley.
“Hi, Danny.” Emma smiled.
Mitch jerked a thumb at the tins of cat food on the shelf. “This woman continues to spoil that dumb fur bag.”
“Excuse me,” she said indignantly.
“Sorry. Emma, not ‘this woman’.”
“Not me, you dingbat.”
“Huh?”
“You dumb sack of sad ignorance.” Danny started tossing tins of cat food into his trolley. “You don’t call her cat a ‘dumb fur bag’.”
Emma watched the tins pile haphazardly into the trolley.
“Cats are sacred,” Danny continued.
“Are you kidding me?” Mitch observed the tins piling up. “And what the hell are you doing?”
“Buying cat food.”
“Why?” Mitch’s eyes widened. “You didn’t…”
A bag of cat biscuits sailed into the trolley. “I did.”
Emma was unable to contain her curiosity any longer. “Did what?”
“Got a cat.”
“You got a cat? When?”
Mitch snorted. “It was your sister, wasn’t it?”
Danny paused, regarding the pile of tins and bag of biscuits. “Yep.”
“You let her talk you into doing it. Are you insane?”
“Very possibly.”
“Excuse me.” Emma was intrigued. “What happened?”
Danny flashed her a grin. “I’m a hero.”
“Oh for…” Mitch muttered. “You’re not a hero. You’re a sucker.”
“I’m a hero,” Danny repeated, unfazed. “I rescued a stray.”
“Aw.” Her heart melted a little. “You did?”
“Okay,” Mitch said. “Let’s get this into perspective. His nutty sister, Katie, managed to shove this ugly-arsed cat onto him, and he took it because her roomie is hot.”
“What’s the roomie got to do with it?” Emma queried.
“Because she thinks Danny is a hero.”
“Hang on.” Her eyes narrowed. “You only took this stray in to impress your sister’s roomie? Danny, that’s so irresponsible of you! How could you? What happens when this roomie decides she isn’t interested in you and leaves? Are you going to throw this poor cat out? You can’t-”
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Danny’s hands flapped in the air. “Emma-”
“You can’t treat animals like that! I’m surprised at you.” Scowling, she jabbed a finger at him. “If I hear you’ve given this poor cat away because you didn’t score-”
Secrets (Hope Bay) Page 4