“If we did both, we might get another two tables in, that gets us close,” said Arch, sketching new tables on the plan with a pencil.
“We could, but we’d make it too hard for the kitchen and the wait staff, they need room to get between the tables to serve,” I said. “What about an annex, another tent attached to the side?”
“That would work, but there is no line of sight to the stage and we’d need another generator and lighting grid. We could do it, but they’d be the cheap seats. I think we’d have to charge less to make up for it,” said Arch.
I looked to Helen and Cathy, “What do you think?”
“Well that might work, and it’s better than what we’ve got now,” said Helen, looking to Cathy for affirmation.
“What we really need is a mezzanine,” said Rush. He’d been listening intently to the flow of the conversation, sitting forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, chin on his clasped hands.
“You mean a second level?” I said.
He straightened up, “Yeah like a balcony here,” he reached between Helen and me to indicate a space on the plan. “We’d need scaffolding and a half wall here,” he tapped the plan but focused on me.
This was another of Rush’s great ideas. He had a way of coming up with creative and unique solutions. “We’d need to take a couple of tables out here and probably here,” I said, striking a pencil through a few tables, “To make room for stairs.”
“We could get another sixteen tables on the balcony for the sacrifice of say, maybe three tables downstairs,” he said.
“And no need to lose dance floor space,” I said, getting excited by the idea.
“Or compromise conditions for the caterers,” Rush said. “Can we specify it in time?”
“I think so. Anyway it’s worth pulling out all the stops.”
Rush raised his hand for a high five and I joyfully met him in it. Slap went our hands, both of us coming to a stand. He then offered me a low five, holding his hand at knee level and I met him in that too, another slap sounded. The third move in the sequence was a shoulder bump, he went left, I went right, so far so good, but he came in too hard and when he bumped me I lost my balance and staggered backwards, he grabbed my arms to steady me and we were both laughing.
“Ladies, do you get the feeling we’re redundant,” said Arch coming around the table and putting his long arms around Helen who blushed and Cathy who giggled. “How about I buy you lunch?”
23: Runaway Emotions
Later that day we had the architect’s blueprint of the hall open on the dining room table.
“It meets the standards and even with the extra wing and the glass partitioning, it still maintains the heritage specifications,” said Carl Fosby, the council planner.
“But that glass will need to be specially graded. I can’t do it in the budget,” said red-headed Lloyd Jones the builder.
“How much more do you need?” asked Rush, leaning forward in his chair.
“We can’t do it, we can’t add to the costs. We just won’t be able to raise that much money, even with the extra tables to sell,” said Cathy.
“I can take on the additional cost. I love the design, I don’t mind kicking more in,” said Rush.
“That’s not the deal,” said Cathy sharply. “You’re doing enough, more than enough.”
“It won’t be that much more,” said Rush.
“No. We have to find another way,” said Cathy, looking pointedly at Lloyd.
Rush stood walked round the table to where Cathy was sitting, went down on one knee and said in a Cockney accent, “Wot ‘ave I gotta do ta make ya take me money, Cathy?” to a round of laughter.
“Oh get away with you,” she said, with mock annoyance and a girlish giggle.
“Ah darlin’ you’re breakin’ me heart,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him prayer like.
“Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen I say,” Cathy pushed him away and winked at me.
“Ah Cathy, that one, our Andi, she’s the Queen of mean. She won’t ‘ave a bar of me. She thinks I’m an ‘orrible sort,” Rush said, in a stage whisper in Cathy’s ear that we could all hear loud and clear.
“Hey, didn’t you used to be Cinderella?” asked Carl, with a chuckle.
“Don’t change the subject,” I jumped in. “The glass goes.”
“I’ll have to re-cost,” sighed Lloyd.
“The glass stays and you can give me the costs,” said Rush, standing and back to his normal voice.
“If I’m the Queen of mean, you’re just a big bully who’s used to getting his own way,” I said.
“So,” said Rush with a big grin.
“So,” I said, trying to appear stern and failing miserably.
“So we keep the glass,” said Cathy, looking from Rush to me and back again in confusion and everyone laughed.
When the meeting broke up, Rush walked Carl and Lloyd out and I took the new costing through to the kitchen where Brick was completely the budget spreadsheet.
“Andi, Rush wants to call me my real name, but I don’t know if I want him to,” said Brick.
Ah interesting. I really hoped Brick might be willing to go back to his real name one day. “It’s your choice. You can be called whatever name you want.”
“Rush is a good man. Helen wants to kiss him. Cathy wants to kiss him. Do you want to kiss him?”
“Ah! No, that wouldn’t be very professional,” I laughed. Talk about cutting to the chase.
“Not very professional.”
“No.”
“Andi,” Brick whispered, “I think Rush wants to kiss you.”
“Why do you think that?” I aimed for a whisper too but it came out a surprised squeak.
“He told me.”
“Oh.”
“He said you’re beautiful.”
“Oh.”
“But that’s not very professional.”
“No.”
Did I want him to kiss me? I remembered the way I’d caught him looking at me, that open appraisal that made my skin itch, and that moment at the sink when out of nowhere, I’d thought about him kissing me. But I was still angry with him then. I wasn’t angry anymore and the thought of being near enough to him to touch in that way was a thrill.
“So what is it with you two? If you’re not up to something then you bloody well should be,” said Cathy, when I rejoined her in the dining room.
“We are just working together, he’s my boss,” I said.
“If you pull the other leg it plays Jingle bells.”
“Seriously, he’s my client and even if I wanted to I couldn’t and besides he’s technically married.”
“That’s all excuses that is. That’s one hunk of man. He’s handsome, rich, smart, he’s on the market, and he‘s obviously interested in you.”
“What do you mean?”
“He looks at you like you’re Christmas dinner,” sighed Cathy.
Did he? Really? Me? Cathy and Brick were drinking the same cool-aid.
“You’ve got rocks in your head if you don’t do something about that,” she said, wagging a finger at me.
I’d have rocks in my head if I did.
Rush came back in with Shane, Arch and our production planner, Sally Evans. Sally was tanned, blue eyed and very blonde. Had she not been so natural, she’d have been Malibu Barbie. She had legs that seemed to go forever and her body was toned and muscled courtesy of serious attention to Pilates.
I’d known Sally professionally for a few years and I knew she was a skilled operator whose friendly manner masked a sharp mind. She’d been a popular addition to the team with her sunny disposition, easy smile, ready laugh and engaging manner. Sally’s job was to produce the show and manage the event schedule from staging construction and equipment delivery to packing up again in the early hours of the morning.
Cathy took one look at Sally and gave me a nudge, “You don’t do something, someone else sure will.” I could see she was right. Sally’s smile at Rush couldn�
�t have been more effervescent. She said something to make him laugh and slap the table and as she talked him through the schedule, she had her hand on his forearm possessively.
I took my seat but couldn’t concentrate on what Sally was saying, something about an on-site first aid station. I was watching Rush watching Sally. Watching Rush flirt with Sally, because that’s surely what he was doing, when he bumped her shoulder and when he stole her copy of the event schedule to write a note on, when he raised his eyebrow at her and tucked her pen behind his ear. And it hit me, Sally was exactly the sort of woman who should have been Rush’s Cinderella not me. She was gorgeous, without trying, she was smart and funny and she was definitely more than just convenient.
“Earth to Andi, earth to Andi,” said Arch, leaning against me.
“Sorry, what did I miss?
“We need a decision on the absolute number of tables,” said Sally, smiling at me.
The meeting went on for an hour or so and when we wrapped up it was early evening and Simon had a barbeque planned. “Stay for dinner Sally,” he said, with tray of prawns, fish fillets and steaks in his hand.
“Have we got time for a swim first?” asked Shane and when he got an ok he flashed Sally a smile, “We’re not formal here, we don’t mind underwear in the pool.”
“What if I’m not wearing any?” laughed Sally, causing a chorus of groans.
Shane looked to Arch and Rush, shook his head, “Promises, promises,” he stripped off his t-shirt. “Last one in, you know the drill.”
“Sally, I’ve got a spare pair of swimmers if you’d like to borrow them,” I said.
“Oh that’d be terrific,” she said, and on the way to my bedroom added, “I can’t thank you enough for hiring me for this job, it’s just extra special. Those boys are hmm, hmm. I don’t know how you’re managing to live in the same house with them without going mad.”
“We’ve had our moments.”
“So you and Rush, it wasn’t real?”
“No, it was just a misunderstanding.”
“Big misunderstanding, I mean world class, wow! Did you think maybe you might like to make it real?” she said with a conspiratorial grin.
While I dug around in the bottom of my suitcase I tried on various responses. There was the straight forward, ‘You bet’, there was the restrained yet intriguing, ‘I’d rather not talk about it’, and there was the more blatant, ‘Keep your hands off, he’s mine’. I settled for, “I think this should fit you.”
A swim really was a good idea. It had been a hot and steamy day and even with the sun low on the horizon it wasn’t much cooler. Sally looked far more glamorous in my powder blue one piece than I did - figures. She did an elegant dive off the edge of the pool and surfaced between Rush and Shane who both shot her admiring glances.
I went to the steps and eased myself in. No wonder they admired Sally, she was exciting, she was great to look at, told fascinating stories, did interesting work and she knew how to make people like her. Contrast me. Sensible and nice. Nothing wrong with sensible and nice, but sensible and nice didn’t light anyone’s fire, not even Michael’s.
“Hey,” a slickly wet Arch surfaced at my side. “You ok? You’re quiet.”
“I’m good. I’m just thinking about stuff. We don’t have much time left and a lot can go wrong before we close the till on the fundraising.”
“Strikes me not much goes wrong you can’t handle,” he flicked some water at me.
“That’s me, rabbits out of hats a specialty,” I flicked back.
“Ok spill.”
“What?”
“Something’s not right. Oh wait, no, you’re not serious?” he chuckled.
“Quit it cryptic.”
“What is that animal in the joke, you know, Simon told it? The punch line is ‘eats, roots and leaves’?”
“A wombat.”
“That’s it,” he said, then he swam in closer and whispered in my ear. “You think Sally is a wombat. You’re worried she is going to eat, root and leave.”
“You’re so full of yourself,” I said, pushing him away with a great swoosh of water.
He waded back in close, “Hah! Nah, you’re jealous. You’ve had us all to yourself, particularly Rush and now there is another hen in the rooster house.”
“Ok, you’re such a smart rooster, what do I have to be jealous of? This is a job for me remember, I’m getting paid to be in the pool with you guys.”
“Oh, you think this is just a job?” he said smugly.
“I don’t just think it.”
“Even without that dumb boot you’re cute.”
“I don’t do cute.” I pushed him away again.
But bugger Arch, he was right, I was jealous. What was wrong with me? The sooner this job was done the better. Something about it was mucking with my head, making crisp and professional, sensible and nice, harder, way harder, to pull off.
24: Mercy
“Dinner is served on the verandah,” said Simon, flourishing a tea towel. “The only dressing you need is on the salad.”
I’m not entirely sure saliva wasn’t running down my chin, the barbeque prawns smelt amazing. I’d given Sally my sarong and I buttoned up a barely knee length white cotton voile shirt that stuck to my wet swimwear. Never mind, Arch and Rush only had towels wrapped around their waists and Shane, last out of the pool, sat at the table in dripping board shorts.
“It’s true what they say about Australians being laid back. I just love how you all dress for dinner,” laughed Shane.
“We’ll be dressed more formally for the show,” said Arch. “I might even wear a shirt for a change.”
“No budgie smugglers,” giggled Simon.
“Budgie smugglers?” asked Shane.
“Don’t go there,” I said, glaring at Simon.
“Yeah, and no thongs allowed either,” laughed Sally, “but I only mean the footwear kind.”
“Glad you cleared that up then,” said Shane, “I’ve been imagining Andi in a thong all week.”
“You have not,” I was determined not to take the bait and Shane huffed.
“So, Andi do you wear a thong?” teased Rush, who was between Sally and I.
“All the time - when I have space boot on the other foot,” I said sweetly and got a round of groans in return.
“Too much discussion about underwear tonight,” said Arch, “but I like it.”
“Too much good wine,” said Rush. There were at least five empty bottles lined up on the table. “Too many good women,” he said, raising a glass in a toast.
“Given your week, good to hear you say that,” said Arch.
“My week has been spectacular,” said Rush and he slurred the s sound. Was he drunk or putting it on? “More wine,” he called, raising his glass again.
“Here we go,” said Shane.
‘He hardly ever drinks. It’s one of many things he isn’t very good at,” said Arch.
“I’ve got my little girl back, and she is my little girl, I don’t care what the DNA says, my fucking fake marriage is finally, legally over. Harriet is out of my life for good,” declared Rush, putting his empty glass back on the table.
He flung one arm around Sally and the other around me, “Brick is going to let me call him Peter, Lloyd’s going to put glass in the roof, I’m going to direct a movie and Andi doesn’t want to blind me with a stick anymore and we’re not echidnas. That’s what Helen said, echidnas.”
“What’s he talking about?” asked Sally, leaning over him to look at me.
“Geez, how much have you had?” laughed Arch.
“Enough to know what a lucky bastard I am. Enough to be grateful for good friends. Enough to know I’m a little drunk,” he sounded surprised and planted a kiss on a laughing Sally’s forehead.
“Coffee?” asked Simon, wide eyed.
“Absolutely!” said Arch and I in unison.
“Will you dance with me Sally?” asked Rush.
“Do we have music?” she sa
id, grabbing for his towel and whipping it off to reveal now dry board shorts.
“Do we need it?” he took her hand and walked her though to the dimly lit entrance hall where he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close.
“I’ll be back.” Arch followed them inside and in a moment he had music flooding through the house and out into the garden. Amy Winehouse’s ‘Rehab’.
“Dance?” asked Shane, holding his hand out to me.
“If you’re gentle?” I was barefoot and had being going bootless for part of the day but wasn’t quite up to anything strenuous.
“Always, well maybe not, but I’ll make an exception for you,” he said. We joined Rush and Sally on the impromptu dance floor and Amy sang, “Love is a losing game”.
Shane held me close and made it easy to balance on my toes without putting too much strain on my leg and soon he was sweating onto my shirt and singing into my ear.
I glanced over at Rush and Sally, she had her head on his bare shoulder, he had his eyes closed and they were scarcely moving. Amy sang, “I told you that I was trouble, you know that I’m no good”.
The track changed, Duffy’s ‘Mercy’ and Shane let go of me swinging me out from his body in a rock and roll move, singing, “You got me begging you for mercy,” I laughed, executed a not very rock and roll shimmy and sang the rest of the line, “Why won’t you release me,” and turned to find Rush had taken Shane’s place.
He didn’t look drunk anymore, he looked like he wanted to eat me as he grabbed my hand and swung me back against his side none too gently. Shane had moved across the room to Sally and through the doorway I could see Arch and Simon sharing coffee.
Duffy sang, “I don’t know what this is, but you got me good, just like you knew you would.”
“You don’t still hate me, do you Andi?”
“Why do you care?”
“I value my eyesight.”
“I wasn’t the one who came up with the blunt stick idea - that was you.”
Duffy sang, “I don’t know what you do, but you do it well, I’m under your spell.”
Rush shook his head, “But that’s what you wanted. You wanted me well away from you and since you couldn’t have that, you wanted to hurt me. Like I hurt you.”
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