by Stella Quinn
‘The woman from the clinic who trash-talked your mum?’
‘That’s her.’
‘You think it’s going to get ugly?’
Poppy grinned. ‘Here’s hoping.’
She frowned at her young assistant. ‘Just because you’re leaving town on Monday doesn’t mean the rest of us can. Let’s try and avoid a ruckus, shall we? I’ll try and head her off. Think you can do a better job than me slicing this tart?’
Poppy shrugged. ‘Maths is my best subject. A hundred per cent of tart divided into eight equal segments comes to twelve point five per cent per slice. Yeah, no probs.’
Vera could feel a wrinkle forming on her forehead. ‘Who are you, and what have you done with my favourite fifteen-year-old?’ She handed Poppy the knife. ‘I’ll go serve this woman. Try not to mention the words guinea and pig out loud.’
Poppy’s giggle gave her a warm little rush, as did the arm the girl slung around her. ‘You’re the best boss, boss. I’ll stay close in case Dad goes nuts again and has to be dragged out.’
Vera eyed Josh as she came around to the public side of the counter. He’d set his beer down and was looking up at the big-haired woman, all bland charm. Vera busied herself wiping her sticky hands on her apron and hovered closer so she could intervene if things got noisy.
‘Kelly,’ he said. ‘How lovely to see you again. And Braydon, isn’t it?’ He reached out and shook the teenager’s outstretched hand. Maybe she wasn’t going to have to intervene after all.
‘The kid’s kinda cute,’ she stage-whispered to Poppy.
‘I know, right?’
She glanced at the girl, who grinned up at her. Kids. Who knew they could be this fun? She had a sudden image of a sprightly Jill, walking alongside her teen self on the windswept beaches south of Canberra, her head thrown back, her rich laughter filling the air. She’d always thought she, Vera, had been the lucky one, to have Jill step in and look after her when her mother died … but perhaps her aunt had found herself just as rewarded?
If she hadn’t met Poppy, she’d never have understood that.
‘Oh-oh,’ she heard Poppy mutter.
Events seemed to be heating up at the end of the counter.
‘Don’t you Kelly me, Josh Cody,’ the stroppy woman was saying, and not in her inside voice. ‘Not after the way you treated me in your clinic. You’ve got a nerve, coming back here and talking down to me. The whole town knows why you ran out.’
The newspaper Josh had been reading snapped shut.
‘Jeepers,’ said Poppy. ‘Apeshit alert.’
Vera cleared her throat. Where was Graeme when she needed him? ‘Are you allowed to say that word, Poppy Cody?’
‘In dire circumstances.’
She could see the girl’s point.
‘Kelly,’ said Josh, his tone even louder than the woman’s. ‘Getting a job to support your family is not “running out”. Now, why don’t you stop bitching about ancient business and let me buy you a drink for old times’ sake, hey? How about you, Braydon? My daughter Poppy makes a double-fudge chocolate macadamia sundae that ought to be banned, it’s so good. What do you say?’
The woman wasn’t saying anything nice. ‘Don’t you sweet-talk me. I’ve never been so insulted as the day you turned us away from your clinic.’
‘Mum. I’d kinda like a sundae.’
Vera knew a silver lining when she heard one. ‘That’s your cue,’ she said to Poppy. ‘You get the kid to this end of the counter and start layering up as many sugar-rich calories as you can into a sundae dish. I’ll wrangle the mother away from your dad.’ She smoothed down her apron, took a deep breath, then glided over in her most Graeme-like way.
‘Good evening. Welcome to The Billy Button Café. Can I show you to a table?’
‘Oh, well. I’m not sure—’
Vera scanned the café, looking for a table as far from Josh as possible. ‘Table six! Right near the bookcase.’ She herded the woman in and ransacked her brain. What would Graeme do?
She had it. ‘What a heavenly scarf. I love that coral colour on you.’
‘Oh.’ The woman ran a hand through her hair. ‘Well, it’s new, I bought it on a girls’ weekend in Melbourne, so thank you for noticing.’
‘My name’s Vera,’ she said, and pulled menus from her apron and laid them on the table. ‘The dessert special for moviegoers tonight is sticky date pudding, half price if you hand in your movie ticket, or we have our regular menu available as well.’
She shot a look over to the counter where Poppy gave her a thumbs up. Peace had been restored, and it had just taken a little ingenuity and schmooze. Teamwork. Just one of the many skills she’d acquired since moving to Hanrahan. ‘I’ll be back to take your order in a bit.’
Sixteen mains, the movie-dessert deal for four couples and only one broken glass later, the evening rush was over and just the honeymoon table was still busy: Marigold and Kev lingering over a drunken tiramisu trifle for two.
A deep voice by her side had her jumping so bad she rammed her thumb into the sliding door of her dessert cabinet.
‘You slice a neat piece of tart, Vera.’
Josh. She blamed her racing heart on the start he’d given her. And the three coffees Graeme had made her this afternoon before he’d headed home.
She looked up at him, thankful that Poppy had retired to the kitchen to run crockery through the dishwasher. She’d had time to rethink that breathy moment in the vet’s foyer, and all the sparks of awareness she’d felt the next half-dozen times she’d laid eyes on her young waitress’s dad—and the thoughts had all come to the same resounding conclusion: she didn’t do relationships. Period. Regardless of temptation.
She looked down into her pristine display cabinet. ‘I like to keep things neat and tidy. No mess, no jagged edges, no getting muddled up with the topping on the desserts either side.’
He grinned. ‘You talking about desserts? Or yourself?’
She frowned. Hot and perceptive. It was an unfair mix. She hunted for a change in topic.
‘We’ll be sad to say goodbye to Poppy. She’s worked so hard this week, and the customers have grown very fond of her.’
‘I’m more thankful than you know. To see her here, surrounded by the community, fitting in … it’s just the change from city life I was hoping she would experience.’
She snorted. ‘Hanrahan is definitely not the city.’
He slanted her a look. ‘Where exactly did you move up from? I asked you before, but I don’t think you said. Canberra?’
She didn’t feel quite so defensive this time about answering his questions. Why that was, she wasn’t sure. ‘Queanbeyan.’
‘Huh. You support Canberra or New South Wales come grand final time?’
She smiled. ‘Not everyone’s a rugby league tragic, Josh.’
‘So true. I’m more of a museum and jazz club person than a footie bloke.’
She eyed him over the counter. Was he having a joke? Hadn’t she heard somewhere that Josh Cody had been a sporting star back when he was in high school?
Kev slid in beside them, his wallet in his hand. ‘Now that’s the sort of bare-arsed lie my old gran used to say would bring lightning down on my head, Joshua Cody.’
Josh grinned. ‘Hey, give me a break, Kev. I don’t want Vera to think I’m a philistine.’
He didn’t look even vaguely embarrassed at being called out. The opposite. She watched him pat the old guy on the back and ask him about his prize roses, a subject Kev seemed thrilled to be engaged with. She forgot about the fact she was determined to put Josh out of her head, and instead let her eyes linger on him while he chatted.
His dark blond hair was mussed up. His mouth was quirked in a grin as he looked from Kev over to his daughter who had emerged from the kitchen, pride and amusement clear on his face as he watched her bustle about the café wiping tables.
She felt her resolve to deny temptation waver. Why did he have to be so darned adorable?
&nbs
p; ‘Did you say something?’
Josh was looking across the counter at her, and that indulgent, affectionate smile was now directed—god help her—at her. Crap. Had she said that out loud?
She cleared her throat and returned to her safe subject. ‘How’s Poppy liked working here this week? She’s certainly earning her wages, she works like a Trojan. Washing dishes, clearing tables …’ She smiled. There was no need to guess where Poppy’s people skills came from. ‘Cosying up to the old timers. She’s a natural.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m impressed. Really.’
Were those tears in his eyes? Holy dooley. Why, oh why, now that she’d declared her vow of non-involvement with anyone, good-looking guys in particular, had she run into Mr Perfect, who went all gooey-eyed when his teenage daughter managed to hold down a job for seven days?
She straightened her spine. She had a kitchen to tidy up, and guests to kindly but firmly shove in the direction of the door. Chattering with handsome men was not on her to-do list.
She cleared her throat and turned to Kev. ‘You’ll be wanting to settle up, I expect, Kev?’ she said, running up his bill and swiping the card he held out to her. ‘See you, Marigold,’ she called over his shoulder, then took a step backwards so this counter chitter-chatter with Josh couldn’t turn into a tete-a-tete. ‘Well, I’m on the payroll too, in a manner of speaking, so I’d best get back to—’
‘Vera.’
She paused. ‘Yes?’
‘About the other night in the foyer, when I was a little forward, and you were a little unimpressed.’
Unimpressed? Wow, that was not the word she’d have chosen to describe the moment when Josh had tried to kiss her and she’d turned her cheek. Dazzled, regretful, thrilled, ashamed … all at the same time.
‘Yes?’ she said, cautiously. She eased out of earshot of Marigold and Kev, who were taking their time wrapping themselves in jackets and patting their pockets for keys and inching at a snail’s pace to the door.
Josh didn’t seem deterred. ‘You want to, I don’t know. Go for a walk sometime? A movie?’
Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn. Vera had a brief vision of another world, where she didn’t have a court case hanging over her head with the possibility of incarceration. Where her aunt still knew who she was and didn’t need round-the-clock respite care. Where she worked diligently as a newspaper journalist for a benevolent and avuncular boss who valued her worth and didn’t sleep with her then sell her out. Where she hadn’t lost her trust in people and could accept an invitation to a movie with a gorgeous man whenever she damn well chose.
But that fantasy world was just that: fantasy. And her real world was complicated enough without adding a date into the mix.
‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’
‘You can’t? Why not?’
She frowned, and lowered her voice as Poppy moved past with a tray to clear the Joneses’ table. ‘How is that a tactful thing to ask? I can’t, all right, and I don’t need to explain my reasons.’
‘Boyfriend? Husband?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Girlfriend?’
‘None of the above.’
He nodded, as though the information she had given him was what he’d expected. His next comment was definitely not what she was expecting.
‘You’ve got coconut on your cheek.’
‘What?’
He reached a big hand over and swiped his thumb across her cheekbone. She felt it the way she imagined a steer at a cattle station might feel a brand. She reared her head back.
‘Don’t.’ Her voice was louder than she’d planned, and she felt Poppy’s eyes lift in their direction. Perfect. Now she’d brought attention to herself having a moment with her employee’s father. She must be the most unprofessional person alive.
It was his turn to frown. He held his hands up and took a step backwards. ‘Hey, Vera. I’m sorry if I upset you.’
She drew in a shallow breath. ‘I’m not upset.’ Bitter, angry, disillusioned … yes. But not with him. With herself and her own mosh pit of drama.
‘Dad, is everything okay?’
His eyes, the curious expression she read there, drifted from her to his daughter. ‘Sure, honey. I thought I’d walk you home, if you’re finished. Jane Doe’s tied up to the streetlamp outside. Poor girl needs a break from those eight hooligans she’s given birth to.’
‘Vera? You want me to help you tidy up?’
‘No, Poppy. You go on home.’ And take your handsome father with you. ‘I’ve got this.’
‘Cool. Dad, come on. I’m starving. I’m heading back to school on Monday afternoon, Vera, but can I call you if I’m coming up for a weekend? Just in case, you know, you need a super keen waitress for a few hours?’
‘Sure, thanks honey. Enjoy school.’ Vera watched them leave then turned to the counter and just stood there a moment until a lean, sun-spotted hand reached over hers.
Kev was back.
‘All right, Vera?’
She paused. Fixed a smile to her face, then felt some of her stress melt as he brought his other hand up over hers, holding her there.
‘I’m fine.’
Kev cocked a bushy eyebrow in the direction of the doorway, where a fat brown labrador was leaping up at her fifteen-year-old waitress. Josh was chatting to Marigold and watching indulgently while the dog and the girl behaved as though they’d been separated by stormy oceans for a decade.
‘Your shoulders got all droopy, my lamb. What’s got you and the town sweetheart all lathered up?’
She shot her eyes back to Kev’s face. ‘Excuse me?’ He winked at her, tapped his nose. ‘He’s a mighty fine-looking fella. Reminds me of me when I was a lad. Something else you should know about him, too. He’s loyal. You don’t find that very often.’
Vera could feel a blush staining her cheeks. ‘You’re imagining things, Kev. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a stray cat in the alley waiting for her saucer of milk.’ She rushed through the swing doors to the kitchen before anyone else could drag her into a conversation and read her all-too-obvious thoughts about Josh Cody.
She was so not ready for life in a small town.
CHAPTER
16
Josh ripped off his tie and threw it into the corner of the treatment room. He’d made no progress whatsoever with his heritage works development application, but that was only the first setback of his Monday morning. ‘Next time,’ he ranted at his sister, ‘you’re going to see Barry bloody O’Malley. Two hours I waited before he showed up, Hannah, two hours, and he still wouldn’t tell me who lodged those complaints. There were about a hundred other things I would rather have been doing on Poppy’s last day.’
Hannah had her hand halfway down the throat of a bull mastiff and didn’t look up. ‘I thought you’d been a long time. Lucky we had a quiet day here; I sent Sandy home after lunch.’
‘Yeah, lucky,’ he said sourly.
‘That bad, huh?’
‘Remember Principal Kincaid—made you sit on the bench outside his office for an hour, then when you finally got in to tell your side of the story he actually didn’t give a shit?’
‘Aha!’ Hannah slowly withdrew her arm from the dog’s mouth, bringing a broken-off shaft of chicken bone with her. She tossed it into the rubbish bin and turned to Josh. ‘Unlike you, I never got called to the Principal’s office, Josh. He thought I was an asset to the school. Citizenship Awards five years straight if I recall correctly.’
‘Well, if you’re such an asset, why don’t you take these nuisance complaints up with council?’
‘I don’t own a tie.’
He snorted. ‘You can borrow mine.’
Hannah plunged a needle into a bottle of antibiotics and then injected the fluid into the dog’s neck. ‘Give me a second, here, will you? Rambo’s my last patient for the day, then we can lock up and you can tell me all about it. There might be a couple of beers in the blood fridge if we’re lucky.’
‘Sure. I’ll go check on the patients.’
She looked up at him. ‘Hey, did that kid’s mum ring back about Jane Doe? Those pups are getting bigger by the day. They’re a month old now … we’re going to have to think of fostering them out in a few weeks if an owner doesn’t show. We can’t put them in the dog run out back unsupervised; the other animals will trample them. Or worse.’
‘Nothing so far. To tell the truth, me and Jane Doe have got a bit of a thing going. I’d miss her, especially with Poppy going back to Sydney this evening.’
His sister grinned. ‘Tell me something I don’t know. But no matter how much I love you, which is quite a lot most of the time, and not at all when you’ve been helping yourself to the contents of my pantry, we’re not keeping eight labrador pups.’
He headed next door to the sleepover room where cages lined the walls. Cats ignored him from various small cages on the upper tiers, as did a western black snake who’d swallowed a fake egg, and an overweight mouse doing circuit work on its wheel. The furballs in the big low pen weren’t ignoring him, however. He could hear their beating tails and their yips from the door.
‘Hey, Dad.’
‘Popstar! I didn’t see you there. You all packed? Only a few hours ’til I need to take you down to the train station.’
His daughter had crawled into the pen and was seated in the corner, her lap covered in squirming pups.
‘All sorted. And … I’m so pleased I stayed until the last possible minute, because you will never guess what’s happened!’
‘Try me.’
She spun the fattest pup, the brown male, around to face him. Sleepy eyes stared up at him, then drifted to a snoozy close.
‘No,’ she ordered. ‘Wake UP, Maximus. Show Dad your new trick!’
She plopped him on all fours, and he promptly splayed on the ground like a bag of sand.
‘Come on, Maxie, you’ve got this,’ she urged, and lifted him up again. He teetered on all paws for a second, then staggered like a drunken sailor towards the pyramid of fur that was his brothers and sisters.