He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “As you can guess, I have a pretty fucked up relationship with my father.”
“You’re not the only one,” I blurted, then quickly looked down at my coffee. Business meeting, Cate, I reminded myself. This was not an opportunity for a personal bonding session with the hot plumber.
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Dave replied genuinely.
I met his eyes and shrugged. The movement didn’t come across as relaxed as I hoped. “Water under the bridge.”
Dave nodded once. “For your sake, I hope it stays that way. Sometimes my father has other ideas.”
“I won’t talk to him again,” I promised.
“It’s better you don’t.”
*
Plans for Christa and Max’s wedding were pushing forward at an alarming rate. The reception venue was booked, flower arrangements decided on, bridesmaids’ dresses purchased, suits chosen, and invitations were being finalized.
“To one hundred and eighty-eight guests,” Christa told me flatly.
“I thought you said you spoke to Julia?” I asked her gently.
We had both collapsed on the living room sofa after getting home from work late on Thursday evening.
Christa sighed. “I did. At first we managed to cull twenty people off the list. Then Julia added another eight. Basically my plans of a relaxed, intimate wedding are dead.”
Using the words ‘dead’ and ‘wedding’ in the same sentence was never a good thing.
“Are you going to be OK, Christa? Because if this is a really major issue, you need to say something now.” Before it gets out of control, I thought silently. As much as Christa loved Max, we’d all witnessed her failed engagements in the past. Yes, they were perfect for each other, but weddings could be extremely stressful.
“I’ll be fine,” Christa told me. “It’s only one day, right?”
That she was referring to her wedding day in that way made my heart hurt for her. It wasn’t fair, but what was I going to do about it?
“Alright,” I said, deciding on a different tack. “What would your dream wedding be?”
Christa’s nose crinkled as she thought about it. “I don’t know. Elope?”
“If you could elope, how would you do it?”
Christa looked shocked. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Of course not. I’d like to hear what you want, that’s all.”
“Something relaxed. Small. No sit down dinners or long-winded speeches. Maybe a cocktail reception?”
“See! You do have an idea of what you want,” I said triumphantly.
“Fat lot of good that does me. Let’s face it, I’ll just be happy when we go on our honeymoon.”
“Where are you going again?”
“Palm Cove, just north of Cairns.”
“Oh, I’ve heard it’s lovely up there.” I’d never been, but from what others had told me it was a quiet stretch of perfect tropical beach in Northern Queensland with several luxury resorts.
“Anyway, enough about my wedding. I’m sick of thinking about it. Has James called you yet?”
“Not you too!”
“Why? Who else has mentioned him?”
“Scarlett.”
Christa appeared satisfied with this piece of information. “Glad I’m not the only one who thought it.”
“She called him ‘List Man.’”
“Huh! She would, but she’s spot on. Anyway, Max gave him your number. I hope that’s OK.”
“Sure,” I said easily.
“Sure? That’s it?”
“Honestly, why does everyone keep asking me if ‘that’s it’?”
“Probably because you sound very casual about the whole thing.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because he could be the List Man you’ve been waiting for,” she teased.
“Maybe,” I said. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. Do you want another glass of wine?”
I could feel Christa staring at me as I made my way to the kitchen. Both she and Scarlett had a point. Why didn’t I feel more excited by the whole thing? To be honest, I wasn’t sure. Romantic Cate should be jumping up and down at the idea, but it was true – I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I’d been burned badly in the past and wanted to take things slow, no matter how promising James appeared on paper.
Or was it more than that?
Chapter 14
I had to stop doing this. I was as bad as Maddy.
I pushed open the glass doors to the foyer of my apartment complex with a deep groan. Correction. Even Maddy wasn’t as bad as I was lately. With Ava to look after, and Paul sharing the management of their media and marketing business, Maddy was far less career-obsessed these days.
Instead, I was the one doing the late nights. I hadn’t arrived home before nine pm once this week. At least I was consistent. It was Friday night, nine o’clock, my stomach was growling in protest, and all I wanted to do was get out of my work clothes and eat something.
I marched across the foyer toward the elevators. I didn’t realize how much I was in my own little world until I heard a sharp clatter and a female voice swearing.
Startled, it took me a second to register the woman standing by the elevators. She’d dropped some shopping bags and her mobile phone appeared to be in pieces on the tiled floor.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I heard her mutter as she bent down to survey the mess.
I rushed forward. “Here, let me help.”
I started picking up the shopping bags and a few grocery items that had rolled away. I waited while she recovered the pieces of her phone.
“I only got it last week,” she complained. “Sorry. I’m being rude. Thanks for your help.” She stood and met my eyes.
I stifled a gasp.
“What?” She narrowed her eyes at me.
I immediately reddened. I’d seen her around the complex before. She was kind of hard to miss. Her waves of golden brown curls had always caught my eye, but she’d probably thought I was staring at something else. I forced myself to keep my focus at eye level. I knew what I would see if I dropped my gaze: the absence of a hand on one arm.
She was still surveying me suspiciously.
“Your eyes,” I blurted out, wanting to make it clear I wasn’t focusing on her disability.
She frowned, the suspicion turning to confusion. “What about my eyes?”
“They remind me of someone’s.” Oh wow, that sounded ridiculous, even to my own ears. Now she probably thought I was trying to pick her up or something equally far-fetched.
The little flecks of gold in her mesmerizing eyes sparked with recognition. Her whole face lit up. “You’re Cate!”
“Yes?”
“I’m Lauren.”
“Oh, of course,” I said. “Dave’s sister.” Now it made sense. I should have made the connection earlier. Their colorings were extremely similar, but to my disgrace I’d only ever thought of her as the girl without the hand. “Did he tell you about my apartment flooding?” I asked, with interest.
“Not in great detail, but then he’s not exactly Mr. Talkative.”
I couldn’t help myself and grinned. “He’s not, is he? Anyway, he was visiting you when my apartment flooded and I burned my foot badly. If he hadn’t been in the building at the time, I probably wouldn’t have bothered going to the hospital and it could have been a lot worse.”
“Dave to the rescue, huh? Yeah, he’s a bit like that. Hey, would you mind helping me with my bags? I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m impaired when it comes to carrying things. Even with one good arm, I’m still a klutz.”
She was frank, just like her brother, and I liked her straight away. “Sure. Lead the way.”
Inside the elevator, she pressed the button for level five.
“Thanks for this. Have you been working late?” she asked.
“Sadly.”
“Nothing sad about it. Got to earn a living.”
; “What do you do?” I asked, then wished I had kept my mouth shut. I was being nosy, but I couldn’t help myself. Lauren was intriguing not just because she was Dave’s sister, she also seemed like the sort of person I’d want to get to know.
“I’m a writer. I write property and business articles mainly, but my passion is travel. I run a travel blog which is starting to do quite well.”
“What publication do you write for?”
“I’m freelance. Work from home mainly. Means I don’t have to put up with people staring at me while I type one-handed.”
My eyes widened and I looked away, not sure what to say.
Lauren snorted. “I’m joking, Cate. Mostly.”
I nodded and met her eyes again. Her expression was amused.
“How do you manage though? To write?” I asked. Oh, Cate, just shut up, would you? The poor woman was probably sick of people making an issue of her disability.
“I can type one-handed, but I write shorthand the old fashioned way, and there’s some cool dictation software. I manage.”
I believed her. Lauren seemed like she could manage just fine and a lot else besides.
The elevator doors opened at level five.
“Well, thanks for the help,” she said.
“Oh no, let me carry these to your door.”
She shrugged. “If you want.”
We walked down the corridor, which looked exactly the same as mine. We stopped in front of door fifty-eight. Lauren stuffed the bits of her not-so-new-anymore phone into her jeans pocket and then unlocked the door. She used her shoulder to hold the door open and then turned to me.
“Hey, have you eaten?” she asked.
I must have appeared unsure, because she shook her head at me.
“You know, dinner? Food?”
“No, why? Can you hear my stomach growling?”
She smiled. “I thought that was mine. It’s just that I picked up Thai take-out on my way home. You’re welcome to join me if you want.”
I looked at her, still unsure. I’d only known her a couple of minutes but I genuinely liked her. And I was a curious busybody, but politeness still won out. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. I know I’m the sad, single, career-obsessed woman coming home late from work on a Friday night, but I can get my own dinner.”
“Well, you’ve answered that question.”
I stared at her.
“You’re single,” she said. At my confused look, she shrugged again. “What? You could have been out for after work drinks, not working.”
I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe I was more hung up about my single status than I first thought. “Why would you want to know if I’m single?” I asked.
She shot me a dazzling smile. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type. Come on. Join me inside and eat something.”
She marched off so I was forced to leap forward to stop the door slamming in my face. I looked down at the bags in my hand. Oh well. I guess I was joining her for dinner.
Inside, I followed her to the kitchen. The layout of the apartment wasn’t too different to mine, but that’s where the similarities ended.
“I love your place,” I told her, setting the bags on the kitchen counter.
“My sanctuary,” she stated.
Where my apartment was all creams and off-whites, Lauren’s was dusky reds and browns. She had intriguing feature pieces in prominent positions. A series of wooden carvings from somewhere in Asia, and modern artwork with splashes of bright colors hung on the walls.
“Do you own this place?” I asked. There was no way I’d be able to decorate our apartment like this while we were renting.
“I do now. Dad helped me out initially.”
The infamous Michael Worthington. I tried to keep my face neutral.
Lauren studied me. “What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said quickly.
“No, that was something.” Her brown eyes were piercing.
“Are you sure you’re not an investigative journalist?” I joked.
“Nice try. Why did you act funny when I mentioned my dad?”
I shook my head again. “No reason.”
Lauren put her hand on her hip. I was beginning to think dinner was a bad idea.
“Did he get in touch with you?” she asked, investigative journalistic tendencies going strong.
“Briefly,” I allowed.
Lauren dropped her hand to her side. “I knew it! Interfering, old bastard!”
I stared at her. Despite the name calling I had a feeling she was a lot closer to her father than Dave.
“Did he call you at work?” she asked.
I nodded. “I had to tell Dave about it. Professional duty.”
“I bet he was pissed.” Lauren blew out a long breath. She bent down and got a couple of dishes from a nearby cupboard then set them on the counter. I watched, entranced, as she deftly served up the Thai noodles for us with one hand.
“You get used to it,” she said, not looking at me.
I couldn’t believe I’d been caught out staring again.
“Here.” She pushed a bowl of noodles toward me and appeared unworried. “Let’s eat it on the sofa.”
We made our way into her plush lounge area.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about my dad,” Lauren said after swallowing a mouthful of noodles.
“I don’t see how it’s your fault.”
“I’d actually make a pretty crap investigative journalist,” she told me. “I have a big mouth. Huge. Anyway, stupidly I mentioned Dave’s intention to purchase the business a while back. Then I opened my big mouth again last week and told Dad Dave was seeing a financial planner. Bad idea. He wouldn’t let me get off the phone until I gave him the name of the planner, which is you obviously.” She cringed. “Sorry, Cate.”
“Like I said, not your fault. Your dad seems like a … determined man.”
“You’re being too tactful. Did he insist on throwing money at you?”
I stalled and chewed on my noodles. Technically I wasn’t sure I should be discussing it.
Lauren sighed. “He did. Dave would definitely have been pissed.”
“I thought he took it really well.” I looked back down at my noodles again. I hadn’t meant to continue the conversation.
“Dave takes everything really well. Mr. Cool. Inside, he would have been seething.”
Well, if what I’d seen was Dave seething, he certainly was Mr. Cool. “He explained he doesn’t have a good relationship with your dad.”
“Huh. That’s putting it politely.”
“Do they ever see each other?” I asked, curiosity winning out again.
“Rarely. Christmas mainly, but that’s an extended family thing and they usually manage to avoid each other for most of it.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t keep in touch with my dad either, so I know what it’s like.” Why was I bonding with this woman? I should be thanking her for dinner and then returning to my apartment, not getting more and more involved in their family dramas. I was Dave’s financial planner, for God’s sake.
“Yeah, well it sucks. For everyone. Mum and Dave are really close and it breaks her heart. Meanwhile I’m caught in the middle trying to convince Dad not to be such an asshole. As you can imagine, that’s a challenge.”
Despite myself, I smiled. “Are you close to your father?”
“I love the old coot, but I’m not clueless. He can be a bastard. Just usually not to me.”
“It must be hard for you.”
“It’s harder for Dave.”
I ate my noodles and didn’t say anything. From what I’d seen of Dave’s reaction to his father, I hadn’t thought he was all that cut up about it.
“Dave hides it well,” Lauren continued, reading my thoughts.
I suppose I couldn’t deny that. Dave did seem like the sort of person who kept his feelings close to his chest.
I cleared my throat. “Lauren? While I’ve got to admit I am curious about all of thi
s, I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about it.”
“Why?”
“I’m Dave’s financial planner.”
“He likes you.”
My eyebrows shot up and I stopped chewing.
She grinned. “See? Told you. My mouth should be sealed as a community service, but that doesn’t seem fair. Then I’d be mute and handless.”
I couldn’t help myself and laughed. I loved this woman’s unapologetic nature. “Look, Dave seems like a really nice guy,” I told her honestly, “but ours is a professional relationship.”
“Is that what you call it?”
I set my noodles down on the coffee table carefully. In the space of a week, I’d had two members of Dave’s family question my professionalism. “Yes, Lauren, it’s strictly a professional relationship.”
Lauren held up a hand in a gesture of peace. “Steady on. That’s not what I was implying.”
“Then what are you saying?” While my heart thudded in my chest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
She shrugged again, which I now recognized was one of her habits. “I thought he was going to ask you on a date, not ask you to be his financial planner.”
Chapter 15
I watched Ava push her small face into my new living room carpet and then cry out in frustration.
I leapt up, but Maddy grabbed my arm.
“Leave her. Tummy time is good for her.”
I hesitated. “She looks upset.”
“She’s a baby. Besides, this isn’t upset. She’s just being vocal about her determination.”
I sat back down. As soon as I did, Ava pushed herself up and then rolled onto her back. She squealed in delight.
“Good girl!” I cried, clapping my hands together.
Ava grinned and gurgled happily, now content to watch us and look around the room from her position on her back.
“She’s doing so well,” I told Maddy.
“Woman on a mission,” Maddy agreed.
“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” I teased.
“Yep, I think she’s got Paul a little worried. He’s starting to feel outnumbered by the determined women in our household.”
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