by Andrews, Amy
He was too young to tell him about her day. About her morning on the very bridge his father had thrown himself off eight years earlier. Zack had never really known his dad and that wasn’t the way Callie wanted him to remember Andy anyway.
She hung up a few minutes later just as a horn beeped outside. Callie looked at her watch. Argh! She was running late and two earrings did not make her dressed for dinner!
Callie thought she must have actually conjured up the commanding redhead from the bridge sitting at the restaurant table when she arrived. After all, he hadn’t really been out of her head since that morning.
‘We meet again,’ he murmured, rising from his chair, a smile playing on his mouth, his eyes taking a run over her body that was far from the brief scrutiny he’d afforded her earlier.
Callie wished she’d worn a dress now instead of pin-striped trousers teamed with a soft, white, blouse. Sure it sported a deep V neckline and the collar was huge and she knew it looked kinda sexy wearing it up like she was but her khaki wrap dress was a real show stopper.
Then she frowned. What the hell? She didn’t dress to impress any man – certainly not this one.
‘Oh...hi.’ Callie slid a look at her boss. What the hell, Geri?
Geraldine raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve met?’
‘Er...yes, um...He...That is...’ She gestured to the guy standing across from her with that floppy fringe and that voice and that stare and whose name she still couldn’t remember.
She could hardly call him what’s-his-name to his face!
He quirked a brow apparently amused by her verbal groping. ‘Sebastian,’ he supplied. ‘Or Seb. I answer to both.’
Callie nodded, relieved. For a moment. And then realisation slowly dawned. Sebastian? Sebastian Walker? The Sebastian Walker. One of the most eminent and renowned young psychologists in the country? Who’d written the modern-day bible on PTSD?
‘Se...Sebastian...’ Callie stumbled over the name for a second still shocked at his identity. ‘Was the negotiator today.’
She glanced at him and the intenseness of his gaze stole her breath. It was still there, that thing from this morning. Big and large and growing between them as she took in his casual dress shirt, the rolled-up sleeves, the top two buttons undone.
‘At the bridge,’ she added completely unnecessarily.
‘Hunh.’ Geri glanced from one to the other. ‘What a coincidence’ Another speculative look before she continued on. ‘Well, as you know, as of next week, he’s the new temporary psychologist at Jambalyn.’
Callie nodded automatically hoping she was appearing a lot more normal than she felt. Bloody hell. This was Sebastian Walker? Donna’s maternity leave replacement? She hadn’t quite been able to believe it when Geri had told them that he’d applied for the one-year relief position in their lowly community mental health centre.
It was even harder to believe that he was the man from the bridge.
And, oh Christ, she’d flashed him!
Callie sat. So did he. ‘I’m sorry...I thought.’ She felt like a complete airhead. She should have paid more attention to the introductions at the bridge. ‘This morning. I thought you were a cop?’
Hell, it would have been much easier if he had been. She could have put him in a neat little box. Police officer. Off-limits. She did not sleep with cops. She did not trade hot looks or share silent vibes with them. She did not give them any encouragement at all.
Never.
Cops were off-limits. Her reputation was paramount and cops were, by and large, a great big boys’ club. And, as with a lot of boys, bragging often got the better of them. A close psychologist friend of hers had found that out the hard way.
Of course, work colleague should have sent up a big red flag as well. But slowly frying in the heat of his stare, it came a poor second.
He shook his head. ‘Afraid not.’ Then he grinned. Clearly he was enjoying this element of surprise. ‘I have experience in hostage negotiation. The police, like a lot of organisations, sometimes outsource. I’ve worked as a civilian negotiator for different police forces from time to time. The Queensland police were eager to have me.’
Of course. Revolutionising psychotherapy for prisoners and being a leading expert in PTSD obviously weren’t enough feathers in his cap!
He shrugged. ‘The pager rarely goes off.’
‘Lucky me,’ she murmured, dropping her gaze, desperate to break the incendiary connection she felt every time she looked at him.
This could not be happening! She’d really been looking forward to tonight. To meeting him and to working with him, but with his gaze prickling awareness across her skin she wasn’t so sure.
It felt dangerous. And she was no adrenaline junkie.
‘Speaking of which...’ Christopher Martell, another of Jambalyn’s psych nurses, butted into the conversation. ‘We heard you flashed every cop in Brisbane this morning. I think the news helicopters even got a gawk. You’re the talk of the town.’
Callie blushed and risked a look at Sebastian. His eyes told her that while he’d been determined to not play her game this morning and to keep his eyes up, his peripheral vision was twenty/twenty. More than that — they told her he’d liked what he’d seen.
That he wanted to see more.
It made Callie think about the secluded alley just outside. It wasn’t the Hilton but it was dark and private and, most importantly, close and to hell with inhibitions and social mores.
She dragged her gaze from Sebastian and gave a careless shrug as she got her head back in the conversation. ‘You learn to get bolshie in this job.’
The conversation moved on and Sebastian let it flow around him. His new colleagues were articulate, expressive and dedicated. Chris, Magella, Cynthia and Callie were the nurses. Geri and Donald were social workers. Nell was the lawyer. Rodney was the receptionist.
They’d obviously been together for a while and could laugh and unwind – debrief - effectively. But more than that, they very clearly liked each other - respected each other - and he looked forward to working with them in the challenging setting of community-based mental health.
Even if it was only temporary.
It would certainly be a very welcome change of pace. Exactly what he craved after the chaos, the day-to-day tensions of his last gig. Exactly what he needed before heading back to his private practice and the real world.
It was gratifying to see that none of them were too awed by his reputation and he quickly slipped into a groove with all of them except Callie. She was distracted.
And distracting.
The way she talked and smiled as she indulged in banter with her friends was distracting. The way she dropped her head to one side as she listened and absently ran the silver pendant at her throat along its chain, was distracting. And when she laughed?
Very distracting.
Full and throaty as if it had come all the way from her toes, her eyes crinkling, her head tossing, her neck bared to view. Other diners looked around at her laughter and smiled.
And then there was the enticing shadow of that deep V neckline and the soft cling of fabric to her breasts. And the way, when their gazes swept each other’s paths, like two opposing lighthouse signals, there was the merest pause before hers skittered away. But in that fraction of time, it was as if they were the only two people in the restaurant.
It was actually kind of exhausting, this level of awareness. The slow but inexorable build of tension tightening every muscle, sizzling along every nerve ending when all he wanted was to fast-forward to the end and the kiss that he knew, deep in his bones, was the inevitable conclusion.
The kiss that couldn’t happen fast enough.
CHAPTER TWO
AS THE evening drew to a close, Callie was aware of Sebastian becoming quieter, his gaze more intent as a weird kind of charge grew and then arced steadily between them. Like an approaching storm.
Laden. Ominous.
It enthralled and frightened her all at o
nce. She knew she should get up and leave while she could but was powerless to its pull. Even when Geri called for a doggie bag for the massive pizza she hadn’t been able to finish and the others took their leave en masse, she was helpless.
Sebastian quirked an eyebrow at them. ‘Coffee?’
‘Kill for one,’ Geri agreed.
‘That would be lovely,’ Callie murmured.
She should have declined. She knew that. But that unruly lock of hair flopping across his forehead overrode all her common sense. No seemed to have been stricken from her vocabulary. Besides, Geri was giving her a lift home so she had to stay. Right?
Sebastian beckoned a waitress over and they placed their orders. As she left, Callie became aware of a raised voice behind her and all three of them turned to look at what was happening.
They were sitting in the alfresco area of a restaurant in Fortitude Valley. The suburb was up-and-coming, quite hip with the movers and shakers but by and large it was still less than salubrious in places. With a large client base here and Jambalyn being located a stone’s throw from the restaurant, Callie knew the area well.
A dishevelled man, probably homeless, definitely down on his luck, was asking customers at the tables closest to the street for spare change for food. A young, preppy-looking man in an expensive suit at a table full of suits had taken it on himself to loudly lecture the unfortunate man, who was shuffling his feet, his head downcast, much to the delight of the other suits.
Callie turned away, unable to witness such callous inhumanity. She felt sick. How could he? What would a guy like that know about the difficulties some people faced and how life could go down the drain so rapidly? How could he judge so cruelly someone he didn’t even know?
Her gaze fell to her lap and her shaking hands and she twisted them together to still the tremor. Her heart thumped like a gong in her chest and the meal she’d just eaten was like a lump of lead in her belly.
Geri placed a hand over hers. ‘Are you okay?’
Callie looked up into Geri’s concerned eyes. She could see a frown knitting Sebastian’s brows in her peripheral vision and her gaze darted to him and back again. She nodded but the ugly scene had opened the floodgate on memories she’d been trying to keep at bay all day, from the bridge all the way through to Zack’s little-boy voice, and her lungs suddenly felt too small and there wasn’t enough air.
Sebastian was surprised by the sudden change in the previously animated Callie. She’d gone very pale and there was an unbearable sadness in her expressive, amber eyes. The arrogant fool confronting the homeless man had obviously upset her. After her fearless performance on the bridge today he’d half expected her to march over and verbally eviscerate the conceited guy.
Where was the tall, proud Amazon from this morning, her eyes a’blazing?
He’d wanted to kiss that woman on the bridge senseless. This Callie looked like she was about to faint and, curiously, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and shield her from the big bad world. ‘Excuse me,’ he murmured.
Sebastian strode over to where the commotion was taking place, drawing level with the table just as the abusive dick finished suggesting that the obviously itinerant man get a job.
‘Have you quite finished?’
It wasn’t in Sebastian’s demeanour to court danger. In fact, he’d had enough of danger this last year. He was certainly no he-man. He didn’t pick fights or go around looking for trouble. But some things just couldn’t be ignored and this dickhead needed to learn some manners.
‘I...I beg your pardon?’ The younger man looked around at his friends and the rest of the people in the half-full restaurant, obviously embarrassed to be called on his appalling behaviour.
Good!
‘Feel like a big man now in front of your friends, humiliating another human being who was just looking for a bit of decency and compassion?’
The man stood, the scrape of his chair loud in the suddenly charged atmosphere. ‘Who the hell are you?’ he demanded but quickly paled when he realised that Sebastian had four inches and several muscles groups on him.
‘Someone who doesn’t need to prove himself by being a dick.’
‘Look...I’m sorry, mate.’ He held up his hands in a placatory manner. ‘I didn’t mean any harm.’
Sebastian jaw tightened. This guy was a bully. Picking on someone helpless but backing down at the first sign of superior strength. He needed to apologise but the homeless man had obviously seen his opportunity and fled the ugly scene. Sebastian located him across the street shuffling away, his shoulders slumped.
Callie glanced at her hands as she heard Sebastian suggesting that the man bring his best manners next time he came out. He was being amazing — calm and firm — but her palms were sweaty and her heart hammered and she felt ridiculously like bursting into tears. Pressure built in her chest and she suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
She stood. ‘I...I need some air.’
Geri inspected her face closely and then gave a brisk nod, handing over the doggy bag. Callie took the offering and slipped out of the restaurant, spying the hunched old man farther down the street and hurrying after him, pressing the leftover pizza into his hands when she caught up.
He avoided her gaze but Callie could see the tears shining in his eyes as he mumbled his thanks. She smiled at him and backed away, not wanting to humiliate the man any further by trite words or useless platitudes.
Sebastian, who must have followed her, walked towards her slowly as she retraced her steps to the restaurant. ‘You okay?’ he asked as he reached her side.
Callie stopped, too emotional to meet Sebastian’s eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek. She’d kept it together all day and she would not fall apart now. She would not let the memories take over.
Her brother. Years of not knowing where he was. Not knowing if he was alive or dead. The bridge. And Zack. So many memories.
But they would not break her. Not right now.
She cleared her throat. ‘Fine.’
He didn’t look like he believed her but he did seem okay with letting it go. ‘I think our coffees are getting cold,’ he murmured.
Callie heard the soft don’t-spook-the-horses note in his voice and braced her shoulders. She hated that he’d seen her like this – the opposite of how she’d been this morning. And she didn’t need his pity. ‘Well, now, we can’t have that,’ she quipped, raising her chin as she strode towards the restaurant.
Geraldine rose when they arrived back at the table. She looked from one to the other, back and forth for a beat or two. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Fine,’ Callie said, uncaring how overly bright it sounded as she sat.
Still unable to look at Sebastian, she picked up her spoon and stirred the cappuccino that had arrived during the fracas. The others followed suit and for a few moments no one said anything as they contemplated their lukewarm coffees. But Callie could feel Sebastian’s intense gaze on her and she wondered how it would feel to wrap herself up in all that intenseness and just forget every detail of this horrible day.
Geraldine’s phone rang, breaking the silence. She spoke briefly then ended the call. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised, standing abruptly. ‘Tahlia thinks she’s in labour.’
Callie looked up from her coffee, her teaspoon clattering against the saucer, everything prior to the call disappearing in an instant. Tahlia was Geri’s daughter and this was the first grandchild. ‘Oh, my God, Geri!’
‘I have to go.’
‘Of course,’ Callie urged. ‘Go.’
Geri glanced at Sebastian. ‘Can you see she gets home?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Callie dismissed. ‘I’ll get an Uber.’
‘No need,’ Sebastian assured. Their eyes met for the first time since Callie had walked out of the restaurant. ‘I can give you a lift home.’
‘There, see?’ Geri nodded at Callie. ‘Sebastian can give you a lift home. All sorted.’
‘Geri.’ Callie tried really ha
rd not to sound exasperated. ‘This isn’t important. Just go and meet that grandbaby already.’
Geri grinned but was clearly not going to leave without the last word. She turned to face Sebastian. ‘Ask her about the bridge.’
‘Geri.’
Callie really wished her boss hadn’t dobbed her in like that but oh now she was hoofing it out of the restaurant. Which just left her and Sebastian. And the bridge.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he murmured.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Do you need to talk about the bridge?’
Callie’s gaze locked on his as she regarded him silently for a moment. ‘No.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ Callie kept her response casual, like Geri was making a mountain out of a molehill because she really, really, really did not want to talk about that bloody bridge.
Damn Geri!
But his eyes held hers determinedly, probing her gaze, seeking answers, his fringe flopping distractingly over his forehead. Her fingers tingled to push it back and she wrapped her hands around her coffee cup as the impulse became more and more urgent.
Because that would be plain weird.
‘My place is ten minutes away.’ His voice was a low burr in the night. ‘I have...’ He looked down and grimaced at his cappuccino. ‘Hot coffee. And I’ve been told I’m a reasonable conversationalist.’
It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a command. It was just there – an opportunity. The way Callie saw it, she could go home by herself and try not to think about the very thing she’d been avoiding all day - that hammered at her skull and tore at her shields.
Or she could go home with him.
But she sure as hell didn’t want coffee and conversation. Not tonight.
They didn’t speak as Sebastian drove the short distance to his apartment. They didn’t speak in the car park. Or the lift. Or as he opened his front door. Neither did they touch. Sebastian didn’t even switch on a light. Instead, he watched as Callie strode across his lounge room, dodging boxes, towards the moonlight streaming in through his un-curtained French doors.