Wish List: City Love 4

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Wish List: City Love 4 Page 3

by Belinda Williams


  He shrugged. “I won’t charge you for it.”

  How generous of him. I lifted my foot away from the water. “Any idea how long I have to keep doing this for?”

  He joined me in the bathroom. “Can I take a look?”

  I was about to ask him if he was a doctor as well as a plumber, but thought the better of it, and shifted over to make room for him. He crouched down and gently, more gently than I expected, held my ankle so he could angle the sole of my foot up to see underneath.

  He winced. “You’re starting to blister. You need to go to a hospital.”

  I pulled my foot away quickly and placed it back under the water. “I’ll just leave it under here a bit longer.”

  He shook his head. “It’s hard to tell if it’s only superficial. If it’s gone deeper, you’ll need medical attention. The only way you can tell is if someone takes a look at it for you.”

  I knew what he said made sense, but I was just so exhausted by recent events that the thought of the hospital didn’t hold any appeal to me. “Are you sure it can’t wait until morning? Can I see how bad it is then?” I wasn’t sure why I was negotiating with him.

  He shook his head again. “Trust me, you want to do it now. I’ve had several of my boys injure themselves the same way and it can be nasty.”

  It took me a moment to realize the “boys” he was referring to weren’t children, but most likely the men he worked with. I sighed. “I’ll have to call a taxi,” I told him. “I can’t drive like this.”

  “Don’t be stupid. I’ll take you there. The hospital’s not far from here. Have you got someone you can call on the drive over?”

  I tried not to sigh again. The simple answer to that was no, not really. I didn’t keep in touch with my family except for my brother, and he lived in Queensland. I mean, I did have all my girlfriends, but I didn’t want to impose on them for something as stupid as this. The obvious person to call would be Christa, seeing as it was her apartment that had been flooded too, but it was the night of her engagement party, for God’s sake. I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to come and help me if I called her, but still. Maddy would be at home with Ava. Which left Scarlett.

  “Yes,” I told him reluctantly, “there’s someone I can call. I’ll do it in the car.” I reached over to turn off the water and then stood up. Bad idea. A wave of dizziness hit me and I pressed my hand against the wall to steady myself.

  “Whoa.” Dave stepped closer and placed his hands on my shoulders. “You could be going into shock.”

  “No, no. I’m fine. I just stood up too quickly.”

  I let him help me out of the bath and started hobbling across the bathroom floor. Another wave of dizziness hit me. “Shit.” Or shock. It could be shock.

  “Come on.”

  Defeated, I let him prop me up again. We made our way down the hallway toward my bedroom. When we were outside the door, I glanced at him. “Um, I need to get dressed.”

  For the first time, I noticed him look at me. Really look at me. I watched as those brown eyes scanned my bare shoulders, the rise of my cleavage beneath my towel, down to my injured foot. He didn’t let go of me.

  Well, this was awkward.

  He blinked when I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “You’ll need some help,” he told me.

  My jaw dropped open.

  He looked away and shrugged. “I’ll help you sit down on the bed. You need to tell me where I can find some clothes. I think you can manage the rest.”

  Oh. Right. He wasn’t being inappropriate. That would be me. Put it down to my deprived single status. And who was I kidding? Plumber man probably had a girlfriend. Not that I went for plumbers. They weren’t my type.

  He helped me sit on the bed and I considered my clothing options. Pants weren’t a good idea. I’d have to slip them over my foot. “Can you please get me the dress hanging just inside the wardrobe? The green and pink one?”

  He did as I asked and then starting walking toward the door. “Yell when you’re ready.”

  “Can you please grab my phone too? It’s in the kitchen.”

  He nodded and left me. Interesting. I wasn’t used to being waited on hand and foot. Hmm, perhaps every woman could do with a male helper. With benefits, of course.

  “Cate,” I hissed at myself, appalled by my train of thought. I pulled off the towel and slipped the dress over my head, then had to do an odd sort of dance bouncing around on my bed to get it over my hips and bottom. “Ready!”

  Dave appeared at my door a moment later, mobile phone in hand. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 4

  We were quiet on the short drive to the hospital, which was just as well because I was having some sort of flashback to my teenage years. The Holden ute cruised along, its deep purr a reminder that I was out of my comfort zone.

  A few minutes before, when we’d first stood beside his car, I’d actually shaken my head.

  “What?” Dave had asked.

  “Nothing,” I’d replied quickly.

  The truth was, I hadn’t been in a ute since I was about sixteen and still living at home, and I wasn’t enjoying reliving the memory now. In the town I grew up in, far from the sophistication of the city, utes were considered a status symbol. I wondered if Dave felt the same way. The man obviously loved his car. It was one of the special edition versions, and it was painted black with matching black mag wheels. It wasn’t his fault I couldn’t stand the things. Blame that on my brother, Blake, who I no longer spoke to. His best mate had driven a ute. I hadn’t thought about either of them in a long time and I wasn’t going to start now.

  I busied myself calling Scarlett, hoping that by the time I was done the journey would be over. Predictably, Scarlett swore when I told her what happened but agreed without hesitation to meet me at the hospital as soon as she could get there.

  When I hung up, I glanced in Dave’s direction. He had a nice profile. And I had to get a grip. The man was my plumber, for God’s sake.

  “Thanks for going out of your way for me,” I said, eager to fill the silence.

  “No problem.”

  “I mean, the last thing you probably wanted to be doing on your Saturday night is dealing with my hot water disaster, and now you’re taking me to the hospital.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said simply.

  I gaped at him. “You mean you’ve taken more than one of your clients to hospital?”

  His mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “No, I didn’t mean that. I meant working late.”

  Oh. I hadn’t really considered that plumbers would need to do shift work. “Do you work late a lot?” I asked.

  “Can do. Plumbing problems don’t always happen nine to five.”

  “I guess they don’t, do they? I mean, I complain regularly about working late, but suddenly it doesn’t sound so bad.”

  Dave didn’t seem to have anything much to say about that, and we drove in silence for a minute.

  “What do you do?” he asked eventually.

  I wondered if I saw the hint of curiosity in his eyes, but it was hard to tell because it was dark and he was focused on the road.

  I hesitated. It felt strange sharing personal information with a man who was my plumber, but then everything about this situation was strange. He was probably just being polite. “I’m a financial planner.”

  We fell silent again. Gosh, this man was hard to read. Clearly my profession didn’t interest him in the least. Or I didn’t interest him. Stupidly I felt slightly offended, so in usual Cate fashion, I tried to fill the silence. “Can I ask something? How did you get to my apartment so quickly after I left my message?”

  “I was in the area.”

  My brows furrowed. “You must have been really close by. You gave me a fright when you first turned up.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  I sat up a little straighter in the leather seat. “I don’t usually answer the door like that, in case you’re wondering.”

&nbs
p; “Probably a good thing.”

  What was that supposed to mean? I decided I didn’t want to know. Fortunately we’d arrived in the hospital car park.

  “Well, thanks for the lift,” I said brightly. “My agent will be in touch about the hot water heater.” Hopefully sooner rather than later because I’d like to have a warm shower or bath before the end of next week.

  I pushed open the door and swung my legs out of the car. I’d swapped the boots for a pair of sandals and the cool evening air tingled painfully over the sensitized sole of my injured foot.

  I heard the door slam on the other side of the vehicle. Before I could stand properly Dave was next to me, helping me up.

  “It’s OK,” I protested. “You’ve done far too much already.”

  He didn’t say anything, just closed the door behind me and helped me hobble toward the entrance. Inside, he waited beside me while I spoke to the triage nurse. As soon as I said the word ‘burn’ she nodded decisively.

  “Someone will be with you shortly,” she announced. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

  I nodded and hopped over to the waiting room chairs. They were three quarters full. Obviously I wasn’t the only one with a medical emergency late on a Saturday night.

  Dave helped me to sit and then sat down beside me.

  I looked over at him incredulously. “You can go now. Really.”

  “It’s alright. They won’t be long anyway. You’ll find they take burns pretty seriously.”

  While this news was comforting to me, I still didn’t know what to make of the man sitting next to me. It wasn’t like he was here for the conversation. He barely spoke. Or when he did, it was brief. Or about plumbing. It was like he’d decided talking wasn’t for him so he actively avoided it where possible. It didn’t make getting to know him easy. Not that I wanted to get to know him. It was just that considering the circumstances I felt I should at least attempt some small talk.

  “How long have you been a plumber?” I asked.

  He gave me a funny look. “A long time.”

  I resisted rolling my eyes. Talk about vague. By my estimations he was at least thirty years old, but it was hard to tell. He also didn’t know what he was up against. I delved into people’s financial business for a living, I could definitely get him to open up. “You’ve never done anything else?”

  “No.”

  “That’s unusual,” I replied, my determination to hold a normal conversation making me stubborn. “They say most people change careers at least five times during their working life.”

  “Have you always been a financial planner?”

  Question with a question. I narrowed my eyes at him. The man was evading me. “No. I used to be an accountant,” I replied honestly. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide.

  He met my eyes again. “Aren’t they the same thing?”

  “Similar.” It wasn’t the first time I’d been asked a question like that. Accounting and financial planning weren’t exactly considered exciting careers. Most people usually classed them as ‘you work with money’ and figured they were the same thing. “I used to be a tax accountant. Financial planning is more big picture.”

  “Hardly a dramatic career change.”

  “It is when you’re an accountant,” I said, deadpan.

  He blinked and then smiled at my attempt at a joke. My stomach twisted. Good grief. It was the first time he had smiled properly. I was lucky I was sitting down. The expression transformed his face and revealed a row of perfect white teeth. Those golden brown eyes glowed and a series of laughter lines creased his face. They were the sort of lines that did funny things to a woman’s stomach, not to mention other places.

  I bit my lip, and because he was still watching me, I quickly forced a smile onto my face. To my shock and frustration, I discovered I was speechless.

  My phone rang, saving me from any further embarrassment. Scarlett. “Hey,” I said.

  “I’ve just parked. Where can I find you?”

  “We’re still waiting in the emergency waiting area.”

  “We’re?” she asked. I should have known she wouldn’t miss a thing.

  “Long story,” I said softly.

  “It’s a hospital waiting room. You’ll have plenty of time to tell me all about it.”

  I smiled into the phone. Obviously she was just as thrilled as I was about a late night hospital visit, but to her credit, she was dealing with it in usual Scarlett style.

  I hung up and met Dave’s eyes. “That’s my girlfriend. She’s just parked, so you don’t have to stay any longer. Thanks again for all your help. I really do appreciate it.”

  Dave nodded, stretched his legs and then stood up. His jeans were almost dry but he seemed oblivious to the remaining dampness. Maybe it was a plumber thing. “Later, Cate.” He turned and sauntered off.

  What a strange man. He’d barged into my apartment, rescued me from a watery end to my Saturday night, taken me to hospital, and that was apparently the end of it. Other than the fact he was a plumber who drove a ute, I knew next to nothing about him.

  I heard a low whistle, and realized I’d been staring at Dave’s backside while he retreated. I looked in the direction of the whistle.

  Scarlett’s eyebrows were raised in appreciation and she was focused on Dave, not me. “Is that your plumber?”

  “That’s my plumber.”

  “Nice.” She sat down in the seat next to me. “Did you get his number?”

  “Scarlett!”

  “Oh right. You already have his number. He’s your plumber. Well, that makes it easy.”

  “Easy? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I saw you staring at his butt. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “He’s my plumber!” I protested.

  “So? It’s not like a doctor-patient confidentiality thing. He’s looked at your drains. Big deal.”

  “But—”

  “But?” Scarlett crossed her arms and gave me a stern look.

  I blinked, flustered. “He’s my plumber.”

  “Yes, Cate. He’s your plumber. What’s the problem?”

  “He’s not my type,” I said quietly.

  Scarlett leaned in, arms still crossed, and waited until I met her dark eyes. “He’s not on your list, is he?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shot back, alarmed.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re very specific about your type.”

  “So?” I wasn’t going to go the effort to deny it. Scarlett could be exhausting when she put her mind to something.

  She eased back into her seat and uncrossed her arms, satisfied with my reluctant honesty. “Maybe you could loosen up a bit.”

  “And go out with a plumber?” I said, not trying to hide the disbelief in my voice.

  Scarlett placed her hands on her cheeks in mock shock. “Oh my God. He uses his hands for living. How uncouth.” Her expression turned sly. “In my experience, men who are good with their hands are good in other areas.”

  “Scarlett! What would John think?”

  She snickered shamelessly. “He doesn’t care, because he knows I eat at home.”

  I shut my mouth, silenced once again by my friend’s brazenness.

  She shrugged. “Seriously. He was hot.”

  “There’s a lot more to a successful and rewarding relationship than chemistry,” I replied primly.

  She grinned at me. “Chemistry is a good place to start though.”

  “Fine. Chemistry is important,” I allowed, “but there’s still a lot more to it than that.”

  “And I’m sure you’ve got it listed and color-coded in a spreadsheet somewhere, don’t you?”

  Fortunately I was saved from answering her question because a nurse arrived.

  “Cate Harmon?”

  “Yes?”

  The nurse, who appeared to be in her late twenties, referred to some paperwork. “You’ve suffered a nasty burn
to the sole of your foot?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I replied, stifling a sigh.

  The nurse looked up from her paperwork. She appeared more tired than me, but her blue eyes were alert. “Come on. Let’s go take a look.”

  I nodded and Scarlett helped me to stand so I could hobble after her. To my relief, she dropped the subject of my attractive plumber and my list for the rest of the night.

  Chapter 5

  I pretended not to be disappointed on Monday morning when a plumber who wasn’t Dave arrived at my apartment.

  “Miss Harmon?” asked the guy standing at the front door. He had unruly blond hair that fell across his face and looked to be streaked naturally by the sun. Probably a surfer. And he was so young he barely seemed old enough to be out of high school.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Evan. I’m here to replace your hot water heater.”

  I nodded and did my best to hobble-hop out of his way so he could enter my apartment.

  He glanced down at my foot. “Dave mentioned you hurt your foot. He wanted me to ask you how it was.”

  I attempted not to blush at the sweetness of the sentiment. “It’s fine. A little sore, but it was only a partial thickness burn so it should heal without any scarring, I’m told.”

  He nodded with a knowing look on his face. “Lucky. Pete burned his arm not that long ago and he’s going to have a scar.”

  I assumed Pete was another plumber. “You must have to be very careful,” I agreed. “It’s down here, second door on the right.”

  Evan followed behind me politely while I moved at a snail’s pace to the bathroom. When I was outside the door, I leaned on the wall. “It’s in the corner next to the bath. Do you need anything?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. I’m good. I’ll have to turn off the water to the apartment, so maybe get a drink or whatever if you need to, but that’s it.”

  “Thanks.” I hobbled back to my bedroom. It was just after lunch and I’d already eaten so I’d be fine without the water for a while. Inside my room, I settled myself back onto the bed. Even though the burn wasn’t serious, it was still painful and I’d been advised to rest my foot as much as possible. I didn’t have any client meetings today or tomorrow, so I was working from home. My bed had become my office and I’d surrounded myself with paperwork and my laptop. The disorder was very un-Cate-like of me, but it would have to do.

 

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