Evie: It’ll help our audience to know you better. A bit of family background is important.
Adam: Okay. (Guarded)
Evie: Your mother lives in Broome, right?
Adam: (Affectionate laugh) Yeah, she does. I miss my feisty little mum. (Turning serious) She insisted on moving to the retirement village when the macular degeneration got to the point where she couldn’t do anything without my help.
Evie: I’m sorry. It’s an incredibly debilitating disease.
Adam: It is. (Sad look) But she’s an amazing woman and she’s doing okay. (Forced smile)
Evie: You must have had an idyllic childhood, growing up in a place like this.
Adam: (Grunt) Yeah. Perfect. (Stands abruptly) Let’s leave it at that. I’ve got work to do.
(End interview)
CHAPTER
3
March 13
Proof that Evie’s first round of recorded interviews with Adam had gone as well as she hoped came in the form of some unexpected praise from her mentor. They’d just finished viewing the footage, seated in front of the main computer in the spare bedroom Neil had taken over for his editing room. Electronic equipment covered every spare surface.
‘Pretty good stuff, Evie. The notes on voice tone, body language and facial expressions are spot on. There’s a lot I can use.’
She beamed. Neil rarely honeyed his words, and to have her efforts validated by this man she respected meant a lot. ‘Thanks, Boss.’
‘Our farmer’s not exactly forthcoming with his feelings, though, is he?’ He pointed a finger at her. ‘Work on that. Pause after each response. Wait for him to fill the silence.’
She couldn’t help a reproachful look. ‘I tried. It didn’t work.’ She stood to stretch her legs. It had been a long, intense session.
‘Keep trying. Our audience needs to know exactly what this guy’s thinking and feeling every step of the way. It’s your job to ensure that happens.’
‘I’m not trying to dodge responsibility, but it’s like he doesn’t have the words to express what he’s feeling.’ A thought struck. ‘Either that or he’s trying to hide something. Those are classic evasion tactics—changing the subject, not meeting my eyes, fidgeting.’
To ease Adam into the recorded sessions Evie had begun each one with small talk. But as her questions ventured into personal territory there was an increasing awkwardness with his answers, to the point where every response became short and curt. The deeply wary look in his eyes when she brought up family background spoke volumes; no way was he going there. Operating on instinct, she tended to back off at that point. Nothing to be gained if he went into lockdown.
His behaviour was probably typical of a lonely man fearful of articulating the extent of his loneliness. Perfectly understandable, especially in front of a camera. But she was patient and single-minded; he’d open up to her in his own good time. If only she could get through to Neil that trust took time to establish.
‘If he’s hiding anything, you need to find out what. And a warning, Evie. Don’t get too friendly. It’ll affect your judgement.’
‘I’m not,’ she fired back.
Her response had been quick, way too quick. Neil peered up at her over the top of his black-rimmed glasses, eyebrows hiked. He didn’t believe her.
‘You’ve injected a lot of yourself into the interviews.’
‘I’ve been trying to make him feel comfortable enough to open up to me.’
‘I get that. And your bites will be edited out,’ he conceded. ‘But it makes my task longer, having to wade through unnecessary footage. We’re on a deadline here.’ He steepled his forefingers and tapped them against his lips. ‘Don’t let me down. I went out on a limb securing you this job.’
He had. Neil was the only person in the last year to offer her a chance to redeem herself with the WAB network executives after that regrettable on-air episode. She owed him. Big time.
‘I won’t, Boss.’
‘One more thing. If you’re serious about a career in this industry, show your professionalism and cut the flirting.’
‘The what?’
He leafed through the transcripts she’d typed up for him then quoted: ‘Adam: Wow. Maybe you’re my perfect mate? Evie: A pity I’m not in the running.’
Neil laid the papers down and looked at her expectantly.
‘A bit of banter, Boss. All part of making him feel at ease.’
‘From the lingering looks, you’re definitely making him feel something, but I don’t know if “at ease” would describe it.’
‘I haven’t been giving him lingering—’
‘I meant Adam.’
‘He has?’ Thankfully, her own stolen glances must have gone unnoticed. ‘Well, I’m probably the first female he’s been anywhere near for some time.’
‘So you’re not flattered? Not attracted to him at all?’
Ooh, tough questions. She tried fending him off with platitudes. ‘Nice guy. Not my type.’
‘Good-looking and charming is not your type?’ He cocked a sceptical eyebrow.
She fought down irritation. ‘That’s exactly why he’s not my type.’
Neil grunted. ‘If you let your feelings affect your judgement you’re no good to me on this assignment.’
‘When have you ever known my personal feelings to affect my professional judgement?’ The words were out before she realised the trap she’d fallen into.
‘Two words for you. Nick Santana.’
The name shuddered through her. She cringed inwardly. Ouch. Did he really have to deal the Nick card?
‘That was not my—’ she started to protest, but he stared her down. ‘Point taken.’
He waved a forgiving hand. ‘I’m not saying you did the wrong thing. Nick deserved it. But it could’ve been the end of your career if there hadn’t been so many people itching to do exactly what you did to him.’
Her cheeks burned at the memory. Discovering that the man who supposedly loved her had been unfaithful had been nothing short of devastating. Of course her meltdown had been correspondingly epic in proportion. But slamming her fist into Nick’s smug features just as he was about to go live to air to read the Six O’clock News had not been her best-thought-out career move.
‘You were taken advantage of by Nick because of who you are, because you want to believe the best of everyone. But working in reality TV requires a thick skin.’ His voice became stern. ‘Toughen up, Evie. Potentially, these three people are going to be involved in some humiliating, painful situations. I know you. You’re going to want to reach out and help them.’ He stood up and stabbed a finger towards her. ‘You can’t.’
This was beginning to take on all the hallmarks of a chewing-out from her father. ‘I can be friendly and still stay objective,’ she said, aiming for the same conciliatory tone she used with her dad during their disagreements.
‘You really think so?’ He shook his head. ‘If you befriend these people, do you honestly think you’ll be able to remain unmoved while one of them cries her heart out to you because she thinks Adam’s falling for the other girl? Do you think you can remain an impassive observer when Adam asks for your opinion on the girls?’
Sudden self-doubt welled inside but she couldn’t afford to let Neil see it, and the sheer absurdity of daring to argue with her mentor was beginning to hit home. ‘Okay, I get what you’re saying.’
‘Good. Relationship between crew and participants must be strictly professional. You’re a fly on the wall, documenting their journey, not playing a part in it.’
A loud rap on the door heralded Cam’s arrival. ‘Got some great location shots for you, Boss. Those sensational sandstone outcrops out the back, and looking up towards the house through the pandanus palms at the bottom of the rise. Man, that beach is something else!’ As he pushed his way in, ever-present camera on his shoulder, the cameraman grinned at Evie and the dimple in his right cheek came into play. She winked at him as she left; his enthusiasm was infectious.
Her bedroom was minimalist but comfortable—tiled floor, single bed, antique dresser, overstuffed armchair and a ceiling fan. Catching a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror, she looked quickly away. Some days it was better not to know what you looked like. Even the oversize T-shirt, boyfriend jeans and flat shoes couldn’t hide the facts. Tall, skinny, gawky. Make that most days it was better not to know. Especially when your sister was an exquisite little doll.
She threw herself onto the bed, distracting her mind from unwanted thoughts of Lulu by reviewing the session with Neil. Her mentor hadn’t been this hard-nosed when she’d worked with him on the evening news. Professionally demanding, yes, but also willing to praise initiative. Talk around the station had it that his marriage was in trouble, which could explain the hardened edge. On reflection, everything he’d said held certain truths. She was a people pleaser, and it did lead to being taken advantage of.
And she did find Adam’s attention flattering, much as she wanted to deny it.
As for being attracted to him, who wouldn’t be when he made Mr December on the Fabulous Firefighters calendar on her fridge look more like one of Santa’s little helpers? And there was no law against looking.
Then again, she’d been taken in by physical attraction before and look how that had turned out. She plumped up the pillow beneath her head and sighed. The reasons Neil gave for maintaining her distance were valid. It didn’t mean she had to completely forgo her ‘gently, gently’ approach—it was the one way she’d found to get Adam to talk about himself—but she’d be careful not to get too close.
No point in ignoring her boss’s advice and risking the future she’d so meticulously planned out in her head. Not when success would bring her the ultimate validation—the love and respect of the man who so often seemed unable, or unwilling, to give it to her. Her father.
CHAPTER
4
March 14
D-Day. The ‘wannabe wives’, as Evie had labelled them in her mind, would be here in a couple of hours. She leaned back into the rattan chair on the veranda, gazing out at a mirror-like sea reflecting a sky almost too blue to be real, and with her legs stretched out in front attempted to fan off the sapping heat with the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly. Bitzer lay sprawled beside the chair, red tongue lolling.
With the boss volunteering to do the run to collect the girls from Broome airport, using the unexpected downtime to regroup was too good an opportunity to pass up. The last few days had been a continuous blur of filming interviews with Adam, being trained in aspects of editing by Neil, and shooting and re-shooting location footage.
She couldn’t help smiling, recalling how crazy it drove Adam when Cam demanded every scene be shot from every angle, and insisted actions and words be repeated half-a-dozen times. Adam would just have to get used to that. It was about to get a whole lot more intense with the girls thrown into the mix.
Unsure how to feel about their imminent arrival, she let her thoughts drift. And dammit if they didn’t head straight for Adam. After spending such a large part of every day in each other’s company, a growing familiarity had steadily been building between them, and the banter arising from their easy camaraderie had become more than a merely enjoyable distraction from the repetitiveness of the technical side of filming.
Not for the first time she found herself regretting that he came with an injunction against involvement. It was so wrong to even think about him, but what hope did a girl’s brain have against those pesky pheromones?
‘Hey.’
She looked up. Adam’s tall, broad-shouldered frame sauntered towards her out of the sun, his face well hidden beneath the brim of the Akubra.
‘Been looking for you.’ His voice sounded genuinely warm with pleasure.
Her heart somersaulted. ‘You have?’
‘How you doing, old mate?’
She swallowed back her disappointment as Adam bent to pat the sprawling mass of hairy limbs at her feet.
Bitzer clambered onto his three good feet, yipping excitedly as if he understood every word and wagging his stump of a tail so hard the entire rump wagged along with it. When he tried to leap up, Adam gently fended him off. ‘Down boy.’
The dog tilted his head sideways in what she could have sworn was disappointment. Then, doleful eyes fixed devotedly on his master, he lowered himself awkwardly until his belly rested on the ground. The stump still wagged furiously.
‘I’ve been meaning to ask what his story is.’
Adam sat, extending his long legs in front of him. ‘Found him by the road a couple of years back.’ His softly powerful voice had turned monotone. ‘He’d been hit by a car. Leg had to be amputated, and that evil grin’s permanent.’ Distractedly, he thumped the dog’s flank. ‘When he finally came good after the accident he’d cower at any sudden move. Obviously been abused. Took him a long time to trust me. We’re mates now, though.’
‘I can see that.’ The dog, wicked smile fixed in place, lay contentedly at his feet.
Adam kept stroking the animal, speaking in a low, calm voice. ‘And if I ever catch up with whoever mistreated him I’ll make sure they get a dose of their own medicine.’ The look in those dark eyes made it clear there’d be no hesitation in that. He had the most honest eyes she’d ever seen.
Bitzer growled his agreement and with a sudden laugh Adam bent his head to receive a wet lick. With the sure instinct she had about most people, Evie understood that the bond these two shared transcended mere friendship.
‘He’d do anything for you, wouldn’t he?’
‘Everything except maybe partner me in a dance.’
Evie nodded with a smile. ‘Three legs might prove a disadvantage there.’
‘His missing leg’s not the problem. It’s the fact he’s got two left feet.’
She groaned at the joke, swatting at Adam with the magazine in her hand. Grinning madly, he shielded himself with a shoulder.
‘I was actually looking for you. I need your opinion. Whaddya think?’ He completed a slow spin, exhibiting the same unforced grace with which he seemed to do everything. Only the crease between his brows betrayed his nervousness. ‘Will I do?’
Savouring every moment, she gave him a once-over. The blue jeans and white short-sleeved dress shirt showed off his long-limbed, tautly muscled physique to perfection.
Oh yeah, he’d do. The phrase indecently handsome hardly seemed adequate.
Or appropriate.
She stood to lean against the railing. ‘You look … good.’ She lowered her eyes, feeling ridiculously rattled. Then, worried her response had given too much away, she added brusquely, ‘Except for that hair. Come on, it’s time we did something with that.’
‘What? Now?’ He settled his well-shaped rear against the wooden railing beside her and the heat radiating from his body made the surrounding air feel almost cool in comparison.
‘Yes, now.’ She pushed off the railing to head inside. If the cold shower she needed was out of the question, she could at least put some distance between them for a few minutes until her body temperature returned to normal.
The bedroom-cum-makeup-room was a little too compact for comfort, but it had the only freestanding mirror. Adam plonked himself down in the chair in front of it and eyed her reflection dubiously. Evie took up a position at his left shoulder, all too aware of how close he was.
Didn’t think that through, did you?
Cutting hair required a steady hand, and a steady heartbeat, and she wasn’t managing either with any great success. The tantalising scent of fresh, clean male was doing things to her that impacted profoundly on parts of her body that, after a year of celibacy, she’d almost forgotten existed.
‘Is it just me or is it hot in here?’ Puffing her fringe out of her eyes, she fanned her face with her scissors-free hand.
‘Definitely warm,’ Adam agreed. ‘But then I’m overdressed.’ He indicated the towel she’d draped around his broad shoulders.
‘I�
�ll have that off you in no time,’ she assured him.
He nodded slowly. ‘Can’t wait.’
She tried to ignore the eyes following her every move in the mirror, and concentrated on the task at hand, running her fingers through his thick mop. His dark hair was as soft as it looked and she enjoyed the feel of it. Lifting a handful, she began snipping.
‘I’m going to take a fair bit off.’ Hopefully her voice didn’t betray the intensity of the butterflies jitterbugging their way around her stomach at their enforced closeness.
A small smile curved his lips. ‘You are?’
‘You need it.’
‘If you say so.’ The smile broadened.
She studied him suspiciously. What was going through that mind of his? ‘You’re okay with that?’
The smile stretched wider. ‘Oh, yeah. You do what you need to do.’
‘O … kay.’ They were talking about the same thing here, weren’t they?
‘Take off as much as you like. In fact, the more, the better.’ A huge grin now dominated his handsome face.
‘What exactly are we talking about here?’
‘Not sure, but I’m having fun with it.’ He laughed.
It was a good sound that made her laugh too, in spite of the embarrassment at where her thoughts had been heading. The images those thoughts conjured up, delicious as they were, were anything but professional.
‘You’re taking a big risk,’ she warned him, ‘giving cheek to a woman with scissors in her hand.’ He ducked as she snipped them menacingly above his head. ‘You don’t know what I’m capable of.’
He gave her a speculative look. ‘True. And you know a lot more about me than I know about you.’
Moving into the space between his long, outstretched legs, she began attacking his fringe. ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ she countered. ‘You’re a hard man to draw out. But I get the feeling there’s a whole lot more to you than you let on.’
She tilted his face up and his velvet-brown eyes met hers. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted and her heart fluttered like it had just been jump-started. She found herself leaning into the pull of him, scanning the face only inches from hers. Was it possible he felt the intensity too?
The Farmer's Perfect Match Page 3
