by Loretta Hill
‘You’re not that much bigger than me,’ Natasha protested. ‘Besides, it’s stretchy. It’ll fit all sizes. In fact, I think you’ll probably look better in it than I would.’
‘Not possible.’ Eve’s voice was slightly strained.
‘It’s true,’ Natasha protested. ‘The world knows I have no boobs to speak of. You’ll fill it out much better than me. You should have it.’
‘But I –’
‘Please, Eve?’ The desperation in her voice was so blatant that even she was embarrassed to hear it.
‘I don’t know.’ Eve’s voice was uncertain. ‘Why can’t you wear it?’
‘Long story.’ She shut her eyes. ‘Look, I know we haven’t been on the best of terms lately.’
‘Try twelve months,’ Eve returned levelly, making Natasha cringe with remorse and then shame at trying to sweep it under the carpet just so she could get her way.
‘Okay fine. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You take the bathroom first.’
She started to back away, while Eve continued to watch her silently. There was a heavy sigh and her sister shut the door to her bedroom and held out her big t-shirt.
‘Okay, you win. Take it.’
‘Seriously?’
‘I’m the girl who can’t say no, remember? Now take it before I grow a brain.’
They exchanged clothes. ‘Okay, I’ll wait for you,’ Natasha said.
‘No.’ Eve shook her head in the dark. ‘There’s no way I’m walking out of that bathroom in this getup in front of an audience. You go.’
Natasha smiled in both gratitude and affection. ‘You won’t know yourself, Eve.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
She giggled, spontaneously kissed her stunned sister on the cheek and then made a beeline for the bathroom.
It didn’t take long to shower, tie her hair up and slip on Eve’s t-shirt nightie that had the words ‘Born to Cook’ sprawled across it in big pink letters, along with a cartoon of a woman juggling pots and pans in a colourful kitchen.
A few seconds later she was wheeling her suitcase back into her bedroom and was disappointed that Heath had not gone to sleep as promised but was sitting up in bed, still shirtless, reading a book.
She shut the door and wheeled her suitcase to the wall again.
He looked up and took in her shirt. ‘Wow, how much did you pay Eve to give you that?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She refused to look at him and made some show of trying to arrange her suitcase neatly, all the while dreading having to get into bed with him. When she finally turned around, however, he was still looking at her with that crooked smile of his, which unfortunately still had the power to set her heart beating faster.
‘So I have rattled you,’ he murmured.
‘Hardly.’ She tossed her head with all the confidence she didn’t feel.
‘Then why couldn’t you wear your own nightie tonight?’ he enquired silkily.
She rubbed her eyes. ‘Heath, I can feel a fight coming on and as much as I’d like a trip down memory lane with you, I’m tired and I want to go to sleep.’
‘I wasn’t picking a fight.’ His eyes returned to the book as she walked slowly towards the bed. ‘I was just trying to talk to you.’
‘Talk to me?’ she scoffed. ‘That’ll be the day.’
His brow wrinkled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, you never want to talk about anything. That’s why we’re in this mess.’
‘Talking and dwelling are two completely different things.’ He looked up sadly. ‘Why focus on the depressing when you can get on with rebuilding your life?’
She held up her hand. ‘Okay, I’m going to stop you there. This is hard enough without opening old wounds.’
‘Old wounds?’ He sighed. ‘This house is full of them. They’re like ghosts in the walls.’
Her eyebrows twitched together. ‘Why do you say that?’
He did not lift his eyes from the book he was reading – a volume ironically titled The Art of War.
‘Go on, Heath,’ she prompted. ‘You obviously think you know something.’
He looked up cautiously. ‘How are you and Eve getting on? Best friends again?’
‘Not really.’
‘Yeah, I noticed.’ His mouth twisted. ‘I’m surprised she gave you her nightie tonight with the tension between you two.’
Heat infused her as his gaze slid rather thoroughly over her braless chest. Baggy as her sister’s nightie was, there were still some things she couldn’t hide and she suddenly felt quite naked in it.
‘I don’t see how that’s any of your concern,’ she croaked, realising for the first time that being in the bed under the covers might actually be better than standing beside it, unprotected. She flicked back the doona on her side, trying not to notice the part of his body she’d briefly exposed. He was wearing a pair of boxers, exactly how he used to sleep when they’d lived together.
‘Still too proud to forgive, Tash?’ Heath asked, flicking to the next page in his book. He had always been a champion of Eve’s when it came to the restaurant, protesting that Tash was too hard on her sister.
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ She lifted her chin, trying to slide into the bed nonchalantly. ‘I’m not angry at Eve any more. I forgave her a long time ago. Now I just want to move on.’
‘Really?’ His voice seemed testy. ‘You just want to move on?’ He closed the book with a snap and put it on the chest of drawers beside him. Then he too slid down into the bed.
‘Just cut to the chase, Heath. What point are you trying to make?’
His lip curled. ‘I’d rather not say. As you said, we don’t want to fight tonight. But there is something else that has been bothering me since I arrived. Something, in hindsight, I think I should have told you about earlier.’
She blinked in surprise, momentarily forgetting how close he was and the warmth that was radiating from his body. ‘What is it?’
‘I feel like this grudge you’ve got against Eve is partially my fault. I thought you would have made up by now.’
She groaned. ‘Heath, you were there the day of the fire and the next day when she left. You know what happened.’
‘You’re right, I do know what happened. I knew when I went into the restaurant to inspect the damage. I know. But you don’t.’
‘What?’
He sighed, finally turning his face towards hers. ‘The fire was no accident, Tash.’
Her nose wrinkled. ‘Yes, it was. Eve left the candles burning.’
‘Tash, the fire was lit by kerosene.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because it burned down through the floor instead of up through the roof. And I could still faintly smell the stuff in the ash when I went in there to examine the damage.’
Certain pieces of the puzzle began to click into place. That’s why they hadn’t been able to claim insurance. Not because they didn’t have any but because there were suspicions of arson.
Her eyes widened. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this a year ago?’ she asked accusingly.
‘Your father asked me not to.’
She sank back onto the bed, confused. ‘Why would he do that?’ And then almost immediately, the answer came to her. She clutched the blanket at her chin tightly. ‘He knows who lit the fire, doesn’t he? Oh no. Was it Eve?’
‘No, Tash.’ He rolled over, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at her.
‘Then who was it?’ she whispered. She didn’t know what to be more fearful of – his proximity or his answer.
‘It was Spider.’
Chapter 12
Eve couldn’t sleep.
Apart from the fact that she was wearing Tash’s indecent scrap of lingerie that was far too tight around the bust, she couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened that day.
Phoebe trying to pull everyone together. Her father drunk on more than just life. Her mother trying to
compete with Patricia. Tash acting more strangely than she ever had.
Adonis showing up and then, surprise of all surprises, trying to flirt with her.
He wasn’t flirting with you, she corrected herself. He was warning you off. Asking you to just be friends. He told you so explicitly.
She cringed under the covers as she relived some of their exchanges. Why was it that men always wanted to joke around with her but not date her? Did she have ‘I will make a great pal’ tattooed on her forehead or something?
For once, just once, it would be nice to be treated like a … like a woman. Or was that just too much to ask?
With this wish her thoughts immediately turned to Spider and his latest text message, still left unanswered on her phone. Should I be mad about this?
He’d sent the message right after Phoebe had done her school teacher routine, by dividing up their wedding into jobs for everyone to do. Eve could certainly see why Spider would be put out by it and it wouldn’t have been what she would have done. But she wasn’t sure she should play best friend in this instance and take his side. Apart from the fact that her feelings for him were still on the slightly inappropriate side, Phee was her sister. She should not get involved in their spat.
She felt awkward enough as it was! At least there was one blessing that she thanked God every day for. Spider did not know how she felt about him and never would. With everything she’d lost, at least there was one thing she could still save – her face!
All Spider knew was that she was his best friend – had been for the last eight years. For about two of those years they had both been focused on the Tawny Brooks restaurant. He had rented a small two-bedroom place in the neighbouring town of Dunsborough and she had moved back in with her parents. Together, they had planned and orchestrated the design and construction of the restaurant, worked out the menu themes, developed recipes together. Then, due to an accidental fire and damage to the restaurant, they had decided to take a break from it. She had moved back to Perth to climb the ladder in a reputable upscale restaurant and he had found a new calling in the public eye. So, satisfied with their lot, neither of them had thought of coming back.
If only reality were that simple.
It was so much more complicated than that. The restaurant had been her dream, yes, but she never could have done it without Spider. He had been the catalyst for everything. Not just the love of her life but the arrow in her bow. Without him urging her on, she never would have asked her father for the money and without him she never would have had the guts to build a bloody restaurant from scratch. He had been an integral part of it all. By his side, she had felt like she could accomplish anything. Then he’d started dating her sister and had become distracted by a new career direction. Eve and the restaurant had dropped to second in his life plan and everything had fallen apart.
Yes, the fire had sealed the fate of the restaurant but it was only the final nail in an already fully built coffin.
When Spider had started focusing on other things, so had their customers. In the few months before she’d stupidly left those candles burning, they had already been steadily losing business. Left to run the restaurant mostly on her own, she hadn’t been able to keep pace and an awful truth had started to dawn on her. She couldn’t do it without him. Eve Maxwell, sole owner and manager, just didn’t cut it.
After moving to Perth, how many times had she thought of coming back? And each time her own cowardice had stopped her. If she hadn’t been able to do it on her own then, how could she possibly do it on her own now? This doubt was compounded by the fact that she was the one who had brought the restaurant to its knees with those stupid candles. She just didn’t trust herself.
That sort of mettle belonged to Tash, not her. She was a cook, not a manager, and she’d proven that in spades. But along with her lack of confidence, she just couldn’t face the memories. There were too many of her dreams in that restaurant, and every single one of them included Spider. When she thought back on that time they had both worked there, she wondered how she could have been so unaware that their intentions were so far apart.
She put the Eve in naive, that was for sure.
When Phoebe came home after she finished her teaching degree at university, Eve hadn’t even noticed Spider taking an interest in her that was more than friendly. Phoebe had always been the bubbly over-enthusiastic type. Of course he would warm to her immediately. Everyone did.
They had both got on well when they ran into each other on the property and Eve remembered only thinking how wonderful it was that Spider enjoyed such easy relationships with her family. She’d even added this quality to the ever-growing list of reasons why she and Spider would eventually end up together.
So when Phoebe had said to her one night at dinner with the family, ‘So Spider’s pretty cute, isn’t he?’ she had thought her sister was hinting at her own crush on him, not declaring an interest in him herself. She had merely blushed and said, ‘Do you think so?’
Phoebe had nodded enthusiastically. ‘I do! Don’t tell me you’ve never been tempted to cross that line, Eve?’
Given her parents were also sitting right there, she had not wanted to make any rash declarations. Unlike her sister, Eve had always worn her heart close to her chest, not on her sleeve – to protect herself against humiliation, embarrassment and rejection. She hadn’t been as lucky in love as Phoebe had.
Men were never swept away by Eve’s charm. She almost never got asked out and on the one or two occasions that she had been, the relationship had not lasted. Her focus was her work, and Spider. No other man compared to him. And she had thought that if she just waited patiently enough, he would realise it. Phoebe, on the other hand, dated regularly and indiscriminately. She was all about having fun and living in the moment.
So her comment about ‘crossing the line’ was very in character. Her father, who had, at first glance, appeared to be absorbed in his meal, looked up at that point to wink at Eve.
‘Your sister is not like you, Phee. She likes to play it safe.’
Eve’s face had only heated further as she wondered if her father had already guessed her feelings, though she had tried so hard not to be obvious about them.
‘I know,’ Phoebe groaned as though this quality in her had been a great source of frustration over the years. ‘Sometimes I really wish you’d just live a little, Eve.’
‘Not everyone is preoccupied with their love life or how best to have fun, Phoebe,’ her mother had reprimanded her from across the table. This lecture was nothing new. Phoebe had been getting it her whole life but particularly recently when her only plan for the future was to take an indefinite break, bumming around down South before applying for a teaching job. This scheme did not meet with her mother’s approval at all.
‘Eve is very serious about her business.’ Her mother had gone on to set her up as the good example. ‘She doesn’t want to be distracted by anything else. Do you, darling?’
What could Eve do but agree? And then aware of her sister’s dubious expression and her father’s smirking amusement, her defence mechanisms had made her add, ‘Spider and I have been close friends for years. I think I’d know by now whether we were going to be a couple or not.’
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
In her mind, she thought she’d have plenty of time to retract that statement later. Surprise them all with a romantic story about them both finally realising the true nature of their feelings. There was no need to make any embarrassing declarations to the family right then.
In hindsight, she realised she’d basically given her sister the green light. Not that Phoebe was on the lookout for signals. She loved her sister immensely but she often wondered whether the reason Phoebe was so happy all the time was because she took no notice of what was going on around her. She literally bounced through life, never pausing to stop and smell the roses. Though, to be fair, it wasn’t like Phoebe went after Spider like a femme fatale set on her prey. No, that was not her style ei
ther. It had all happened so naturally and so quickly that Eve really didn’t have reason to blame anyone.
The day her eyes had been opened still played on her mind, as though if she relived the moment enough times it would somehow explain how she had missed all the hints and clues that had gone before it.
At the time, the restaurant had been open for six months and it was enjoying the tentative success of a new business. She and Spider had their evening ritual pretty much sorted. When the last customer left for the day and the other staff had all gone home, they would sit down in the kitchen and pour themselves a glass of her father’s dark crimson shiraz. With wine in hand, they would perch on the stools by the window and debrief.
How close had she come to spilling her guts on those quiet nights?
Too close.
The comfortable silence, the serenity of the country air, the headiness of success – it had given her a completely unrealistic sense of intimacy.
Thank goodness for her tongue-tied shyness and her inability to get to the point, otherwise she never would have opted for the ‘letter’ approach over a verbal confession. She’d typed it up on her dad’s computer because at the time her hand was bandaged from an accident in the kitchen. The night she had intended to give him the note ended with the usual glass of wine in the kitchen.
‘Well done, Eve,’ Spider had said, passing her a glass. She’d taken it and followed him to the window seats, lifting the wine to appreciate the aroma of dark cherries and different nuances of spice and anise.
‘You were here too, you know,’ she protested as they sat down.
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But you came up with the menu and, I gotta say, those dishes were inspired. Especially the pork belly. Heaven!’
‘It’s Dad’s wine that really brings out the flavours.’ She shook her head modestly.
‘Trying to pass off credit to your father now?’ He looked at her so fondly she felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. ‘Come on, Eve,’ he teased, ‘when are you ever going to realise your own worth?’
She didn’t need to realise it, if someone like Spider did it for her. Licking her lips, she glanced nervously at the earthenware jars on the counter. She had hidden her confession there. Was now the right time to give it to him? To boost her courage, she took another sip of shiraz. The tannins were silky and seamless, leaving her marvelling once again at her father’s skill.
