by Loretta Hill
But he didn’t wish to be excused yet – he was enjoying this conversation far too much. There was something about this woman that just lit up the room, and he wanted to stay by her side a little longer to bask in the glow. As she turned her iPad back towards her he said, perhaps a little unwisely, ‘Maybe I could help you with that. I mean, since your friend isn’t coming.’
‘How could you help me?’
‘I’m an unbiased third party. My opinion is valuable.’
She snorted. ‘You wouldn’t know the first thing about a long-term relationship.’
‘Yes I would. I was married once.’
An awkward silence fell between them.
Why did you her tell that?
You don’t tell anyone that.
Damn it, Owen, keep your bloody mouth shut.
‘Oh.’ Her mouth formed a delicate circle as her eyes flicked towards his ring-free hands. ‘But not anymore.’
‘No,’ he said curtly. ‘She … she left me.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’
‘You probably think I’m naïve,’ she muttered, ‘but I do believe in happily ever afters. For everyone.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Everyone?’
‘I know relationships can be hard. Believe me, I know.’ She nodded. ‘But I have to have faith that there is a person out there for you. Someone to share life’s joys and tribulations with. Maybe I’m too idealistic.’
‘Maybe,’ he agreed, and then prayed with real sincerity that some bastard from the Internet didn’t break her heart or scar her for life.
His gaze fell back to her iPad. She had finished her profile and was now scrolling through matches. ‘So these are the potentials? They don’t look half bad.’
She forgot her initial reluctance to accept his help and glanced up hopefully. ‘Really?’
‘No, I’m pulling your leg.’
‘Be serious.’ She turned the iPad around. ‘What about this one? He’s an architect. He loves Thai food and windsurfing.’
He shook his head at the cheesy photograph beside the profile. ‘Trying too hard.’
‘And this one?’
‘He’s a soldier.’
‘Hence the great body,’ she said brightly.
‘But he’ll be away a lot and could potentially die.’
‘Okay, fussy. What about this Earnest Bentton?’
‘Don’t like his name.’
‘Sam Hardgrave?’
‘Too old.’
They argued over a few more until she finally said crossly, ‘Okay. Obviously you’re not going to approve of any of my choices, so you pick one.’
He scrolled down. She had fifty-three matches. There had to be one decent guy in there somewhere, surely.
‘Aha!’
‘You found someone.’
‘Tom Beresford. A thirty-year-old accountant from South Perth. Loves animals, hiking and old movies. Looking for a young, independent woman who knows what she wants.’
‘Hmmm.’ Sarah glanced at his photo.
‘Okay, so he’s not Brad Pitt, but he’s not ugly.’
‘No,’ Sarah agreed reluctantly, ‘I guess he looks all right. His eyes are nice.’
‘Forget his eyes,’ Owen scoffed, ‘this guy is the real deal.’
‘You got all that from his three-sentence teaser profile?’
‘Well, he’s thirty, so he’s done his dash with women. He’s played the field and he’s ready to settle down.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘Hang on a minute, how old are you?’
‘I’m thirty-five, but I’m not a good example.’
She blew her fringe. ‘Tell me about it. All right, go on.’
‘He’s an accountant. So he’s got money and probably has some savings – property or assets.’
‘Money isn’t that big a draw card for me.’
‘Really?’ His mouth twisted. ‘That’s refreshing. Anyway,’ he looked down at the page again, ‘he loves animals, so he’ll probably want kids some day, and the old movies thing, that’s shorthand for good, solid, traditional values.’
She squinted. ‘Are you sure about this?’
‘As sure as I can be without meeting the guy. Besides, doesn’t the last line just draw your attention? He wants a young, independent woman who knows what she wants.’
She looked worried. ‘Do I know what I want?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘A date for Valentine’s Day?’
She shook her head as though clearing cobwebs. ‘Oh yeah, of course. So you think I should contact Tom?’
He took a breath and then, surprisingly, the question made him pause. He had picked this guy, so why was he hesitating? He didn’t want to date her himself, so why shouldn’t he pass her on? Suddenly the game wasn’t quite as fun now that it was real. Thankfully, he was saved from responding by another phone call. This time it was his own phone that was buzzing.
‘One moment.’ He reached into his pocket and then pressed it to his ear.
‘Dad!’
‘Oh, hi, sweetie.’
‘Where are you? I’m getting hungry. You said you were bringing home pizza tonight.’
‘Yeah, yeah, of course.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll be right there.’
When he got off the phone, Sarah was giggling. ‘Forget you had a date tonight, sweetie?’
Before thinking it through, he said defensively, ‘No, that was my daughter. She was expecting me home by now.’
‘Get out of town!’ She grinned. ‘You have a daughter?’
Damn! He hadn’t meant to tell her that either.
‘Yes.’
‘And you’re raising her on your own?’ she prompted.
‘My mother used to help out but she’s out of town at the moment.’
Sarah’s eyes widened as though she was impressed. He tried to ignore the warm feeling it gave him as she asked her next question. ‘How old is she?’
‘Thirteen.’
‘Wow, a teenager. How are you handling it?’
‘I’d rather not talk about it.’
She tilted her head innocently. ‘Why not?’
His mouth twisted. ‘You don’t understand. I don’t talk about my daughter with … with women I’ve just met.’
‘You mean with the women you pick up.’ She nodded knowingly. ‘But we’ve already established that you and I aren’t romantically compatible.’
His eyes narrowed, not quite agreeing with this in the strictest sense but knowing that overall she was right.
She smiled. ‘We could just be friends?’
He blinked. ‘I don’t have friends who are women.’
‘Really?’ she said with some interest. ‘Is that a general rule or just the way things turn out?’
‘Just the way things turn out, I guess.’
‘Well, maybe this will be good for you then.’
‘What’ll be good for me?’
She turned off her iPad, put it in her handbag and stood up. ‘Given Amy’s not coming and you need to leave, I might as well go home and email Tom. I’ll let you know how it goes, okay?’
‘Er, okay.’ He stood up too.
‘See ya.’ She wiggled her fingers over her shoulder as she walked off and he felt like a pin that had just been hit by a bowling ball.
Had she suggested that they just be friends?
Before he’d slept with her?
Was that even possible?
Whatever the case, he had a feeling he’d just been signed up to some club that he’d never had any intention of joining.
Chapter 5
Week 1, Day 3: First Contact
Sarah slept in late on Saturday. Rising at eleven o’clock for brunch, she found a number of urgent voicemail messages on her phone. All were from Amy who wanted to know if she was okay and whether she should come over that morning to run through potentials. Sarah yawned as she put the kettle on.
The truth was, she’d already shot Tom Beresford an email last night. Her
chat with Owen Black had left her energised so she’d wanted to just get on with it before she lost her nerve.
It had taken her the better part of an hour to compose the three-sentence email, with a subtle link to her profile, introducing herself and inviting him out for a drink.
Frankly, this was a big deal.
She had never asked a man out before. She usually waited to be approached, thus making herself the choosee rather than the chooser which, in hindsight, might be part of the larger problem. After much fingernail-biting and deleting, however, she believed she had achieved a message with a good balance between casual and flirty without sounding too desperate.
It was very empowering.
She wondered what Owen would have thought of it if he had read it. Her heart jumped in her chest as she recalled looking up to find him sitting there contemplating her with those dark chocolate eyes. He seemed to have this incomprehensible knack of making her feel boneless. In general, she never went for guys like him. Men who were too sexy often knew it and Owen Black was definitely no exception to that rule. As weak as her body might be, her brain was certainly still functioning. She was insanely attracted him. The key word there being insanely.
A lack of sense was no basis for a mature relationship.
If she was going to save her job and break the Valentine’s Day curse, she had to be smart about this.
She jumped at a loud knock on the door.
‘Sarah, are you there? It’s Amy. Why aren’t you answering your phone?’
She put her mug of tea down and went to open the door. Amy sprung into the room like a Special Ops commando looking for enemy soldiers.
‘Are you okay?’
Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘Of course I’m okay.’
‘When I didn’t turn up last night I thought you might have done something stupid, like pick up some random guy from the bar.’
Sarah blushed.
Amy’s eyes widened. ‘You didn’t.’
‘Not exactly.’ Sarah looked away.
Amy took her by the arm and dragged her to the couch. ‘What do you mean, not exactly.’
‘I spoke to Owen Black last night.’
‘Owen? The hot bar manager?’
‘Yeah. I left my tampons at The Blue Saloon the other night and he returned them to me.’
‘You left your what, where?’
Sarah wrinkled her nose. ‘Long story, but just cutting it short, he came and sat with me and –’
‘He sat with you?’
Sarah felt herself blush again. ‘Are you going to repeat everything I say?’
Amy tilted her head so she could look down her nose. ‘Was he chatting you up? He was, wasn’t he?’
Sarah raised her chin and schooled her tone to rational.
‘He was very flirtatious but, no, he was not chatting me up. In fact, the exact opposite. We decided that we were not romantically compatible.’
‘Who decided that? You or him?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘A great deal.’
‘I can’t remember.’ Sarah frowned stubbornly. ‘The point is, he was actually quite helpful with going through my potentials on Soulmate.com.’
Amy snorted. ‘What would he know about long-term relationships?’
‘Well, that’s what I thought initially,’ Sarah agreed. ‘But it turns out he was married once and he has a thirteen-year-old daughter who he cares a lot about and –’
‘How long were you talking to this guy?’ Amy gaped at her.
‘About an hour.’
Amy slapped her palm to her head. ‘You have the hots for him, don’t you? He’s got under your skin.’
‘No.’ Sarah was horrified.
‘Do you know how dangerous this guy is?’
‘Of course I know.’
‘That man will break your heart faster than a stone through a window.’
Sarah squeezed her arm to hush her. ‘It’s not what you think. We’ve just decided to be friends.’
Amy smirked. ‘I don’t think Owen Black has friends who are women.’
‘Actually, he admitted that,’ Sarah conceded. ‘But I’m not going to let it prejudice me. He seemed rather jaded, like he could use a low-pressure relationship in his life.’
‘Honey, that’s not your responsibility and you’re deluding yourself if you think you can play with fire and not get burned.’
‘I don’t have the hots for Owen Black,’ Sarah announced crossly and stood up. With arms folded protectively over her chest, she walked back to the kitchen. ‘In fact, I asked someone else out last night.’
‘Get out.’
Sarah grinned as she picked up her tea again. ‘His name is Tom Beresford and he’s an accountant from South Perth.’
Amy gasped. ‘He was at The Blue Saloon as well? Why didn’t you tell me that to start with?’
‘No, he was on Soulmates.com. Owen thought he’d be perfect for me.’
‘Oh, well then he must be,’ Amy retorted with heavy sarcasm.
‘He is.’ Sarah lifted her chin defensively. ‘I can show you his profile.’
She went to her handbag to withdraw her iPad but when she turned it on she saw that an email had already come through. ‘Oh wow. He’s responded.’
‘Really?’ Amy stood up.
Sarah clicked on her mail file and opened the message. She read the words out loud. ‘Dear Sarah, thanks for your email. You seem like a really nice person. I would love to catch up for a drink at The Blue Saloon. How does Sunday at five o’clock sound?’
She looked up and said with a squeal, ‘I have a date! I have date! Maybe I really could have a boyfriend before V-Day.’
But Amy was looking at her with her hands pressed firmly on her hips.
‘What?’ Sarah demanded. ‘You’re meeting him at The Blue Saloon?’
‘Why not? It’s my favourite bar, the place I’m most comfortable.’
‘But Owen Black could be there.’
‘So? What’s that got to do with anything?’
As Amy continued to regard her sternly, Sarah put the iPad down on the coffee table with an exasperated sigh.
‘How many times do I have to tell you? I do not have the hots for Owen. And he’s not going to give two hoots if he sees me there with Tom, particularly since he picked him out.’
‘All right, all right.’ Amy held up her palms. ‘I just wanted to make sure you were aware. It’s your date. Do what you like.’
‘Thank you.’ Sarah nodded. ‘I will.’
‘Well, it looks like after rushing all the way over here,’ Amy sighed, ‘you’ve got everything sorted. You don’t even need me.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Sarah grinned. ‘I have absolutely nothing to wear for Sunday. Let’s go shopping!’
In the end, Sarah was really looking forward to her date the following night. She bought a lovely new camisole-style top made out of a silky blue material that draped well on her slender frame. Coupled with a knee-length black skirt and heels, she thought the overall effect was fun. Enough, she hoped, to interest an accountant from South Perth. She got to The Blue Saloon early and was both relieved and disappointed to see that Owen wasn’t working that night. It might have been nice to show off her date, but at the same time not being under his watchful eye did take the pressure off.
Now, where to sit?
The Blue Saloon was fairly quiet that night, there weren’t many people around. If she chose a table, Tom might feel pressured to stay for dinner. The bar, on the other hand, was definitely drinks-only. She chose two stools right at the end of the counter. This way they had maximum privacy and if things weren’t going well she could cut him loose as soon as their glasses were drained.
Of course, she grinned, if things were going fantastically there was always the option of suggesting they move to a table and order food.
Two dates for the price of one.
It was the perfect plan.
Tom Beresford was right on time. She saw him approach
ing from across the room and her body relaxed. He was easily recognisable from his profile picture. Tall and lanky with longish brown hair. He looked nervous too, which immediately made her feel better.
‘Hi,’ she said, holding out her hand when he arrived by her side. ‘I’m Sarah Dubert. Lovely to meet you.’
‘I’m Tom.’ He clasped her hand. ‘Nice to meet you too.’
He was very sweaty and she had to wipe her palm on the side of her pants.
Not a big deal.
Hadn’t she just thought he looked nervous? He was probably sweating because of that. He’d calm down soon.
Tom took the seat beside her. ‘It was so great to get your email. This is just what I needed.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ She smiled. ‘Shall we order drinks?’
‘Sure.’
She lifted her hand to hail a waiter over and saw Owen sauntering down the bar. Her breath caught in her throat. So he was working tonight after all. As she was finishing the thought, he winked mischievously, causing her stomach to drop through the stool. She wiggled in her chair, mentally pulling herself together.
You’re on a date with Tom. Remember that.
She averted her eyes from Owen and turned back to her date, but didn’t have a chance to re-open the conversation before the bar manager was standing on the other side of the counter in front of them.
‘Hi, Sarah,’ he said, making it impossible for her to ignore him.
‘Hi, Owen.’ She gave him a loaded look, which he totally ignored. ‘And you must be Tom.’
‘Yes.’ Tom seemed surprised as he looked from one to the other. ‘Do you two know each other?’
She jumped in quickly before Owen could. ‘Yes, we do. I love this bar.’ She gestured around the room. ‘I’m in here all the time. That’s how we met.’
‘Makes sense,’ Tom nodded and then said to Owen, ‘May we order some drinks?’
‘Sure. What would you like?’
‘I’ll just have a Hahn Premium, thanks,’ Tom responded. ‘Sarah?’
‘Cranberry and lime sparkler?’ Owen murmured without looking up.
She blushed, oddly flattered that Owen remembered what she had ordered the first time they’d met. ‘Yes please.’
‘No worries.’ He stepped back from the counter to fix their drinks but Sarah was still conscious of the fact that he could probably hear most of their conversation from where he was standing. First dates were always a little uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted was someone listening in and judging –especially someone who could be counted on to make fun of her afterwards. She wished he would hurry up, serve their drinks and move on.
