by Iris Blobel
“What are you saying?”
He met her eyes. “Yes, what am I saying? More importantly, why did I say it?” With a shrug, he added, “The whole thing doesn’t sit well with me, but I suppose I worry too much. Or so I’m told. I’d better go. Don’t forget the barbeque tomorrow.”
A smiled tugged at her lips. “Can’t wait.”
Tiffany walked to the bus stop with Steve’s words playing on her mind. Not by choice. Obviously someone had killed Hudson, aka Thomas Terrill. And, why the two different names?
She exhaled a long breath when she saw the bus coming around the corner. Quickly, she retrieved her card and stepped back.
Not by choice.
A shiver ran down her spine, and she tentatively looked around, not knowing, what she was looking for.
Damn the police for involving her in this mess, and damn Steve for making that remark.
****
Mat loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt as soon as he entered the room he’d been staying in at Steve’s. Relieved about the outcome of the meeting with Karen, he kicked off his shoes and threw himself onto the bed while dialling Adam’s number in New Zealand.
“Kia Ora1, my friend. What’s the news?”
Mat smiled. “We’ve got the deal. It’s now up to the lawyers to negotiate the big money.”
“Ka Mau te Wehi! 2.”
Mat rolled his eyes at his friend’s terrible mispronunciation of the Maori words. “Will you stop that, please?”
Adam’s bark of laughter echoed through the phone. It was days like these when he regretted teaching his friend the language. Unlike Mat, whose background was half Maori, half English, and his command of the Maori and English languages fluent, Adam’s parents had moved to New Zealand thirty years ago when he had been a baby.
“I like it,” Adam replied, a chuckle still in his voice. “You won’t be able to teach me for much longer once you move to Queenstown.”
Queenstown. Despite looking forward to moving to the bigger city, his stomach still churned every time he thought about leaving his friend behind. But Adam had settled with his wife just outside Fox Glacier and they were expecting their first child at the end of the year. It was time for Mat to move on, and he was excited about the challenge to extend their business.
Mat gave Adam all the details of the meeting before he hung up. He tapped the phone against his chin as his chat with the mysterious Tiffany drifted into his thoughts. He shut his eyes for a second as he recalled their conversation. Her voice. Her frustration. Or had it been fear?
He lowered his phone and dialled Steve’s number. The phone rang a few times then went to voice mail. Raking his hand through his short hair, another thought came to him, and he got up in search of Steve’s home phone.
It must’ve been his lucky day. Tiffany’s number was stored in the speed dial. Hesitating, he eventually pushed the button and his heartbeat soared with each ringtone, until she finally answered.
“Darling, please tell me you’re going to have a little girl.”
Mat cocked a brow, not sure how to respond. “Should I even bother asking what this is about?”
“What is it with you using Steve’s phone?” she asked, her voice an octave or two higher than this morning.
He gave her a bemused smile. “I was worried about you and wanted to check whether you’re all right?”
There was a moment of silence. “You need to forget that first question, okay?” she almost begged in a whisper.
“Will do. I think if you share a pizza with me, it’ll make it easier to forget.”
Another moment of silence. This one was longer, though, and he wondered if he’d pushed it too far.
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“Nope, only hoping to meet you.”
“For all you know, I could be a bitch. And ugly. And absolutely… absolutely…I could be gay.”
“I’d still like to have this pizza to make sure you’re okay,” he said, surprising himself by his own words, because, truth be told, it wasn’t his thing to date bitchy women or ugly ones for that matter. As for the gay bit, he doubted that very much, otherwise Steve would’ve dropped a hint.
A little laugh escaped her lips. “No wonder the All Black’s just won the World Cup. Persistence seems to be part of your genes.”
“Oh, Tiffany. You like rugby?” He almost drooled.
“With a football-mad-brother I’m not allowed to like any other sport,” she explained with some cheeriness.
He loved the laughter in her voice. And even though there was still the reason she’d been so upset earlier in the day, he was glad he was able to put a little happiness in her voice.
“Are you comfortable enough to give me your address or would you like to meet at the pizza place down the street from here.”
She hesitated. “The pizzeria sounds like a good idea. I could be there in about an hour.”
Excited, he replied, “Deal. I look forward to meeting you.”
She laughed. “This is about the weirdest thing ever. Don’t bring a rose, though. You’ll recognise me when you see a very nervous person coming in.”
“No rose. Got it.”
Mat hung up and made a little fist pump in the air. It wasn’t his first date, so it surprised him how nervous he was. In fact, it wasn’t a date, but a meeting to find out more about Tiffany and to put his mind at ease. After all, she really had sounded distressed earlier that morning.
He had a quick shower and towelled himself off before getting dressed in his jeans, grey shirt, and black shoes. He tried to get hold of Steve on the phone, but again was instructed to leave a message. “Mate, I’m out for dinner. Will catch up with you later. Ka kite.3“
One last check of the time, and he decided it was late enough to leave. The pizzeria was indeed only down the road, so he walked the short distance. As soon as he stepped into the restaurant, the smell of freshly baked pizza, garlic, and fire assaulted him, making his mouth water.
Mat looked around, liking the typical ambience of an Italian eatery. The wooden tables were covered with white and red checked tablecloths, white plates decorated with a green napkin each, and some crunchy breadsticks in a clear glass vase in the centre of the table.
An empty table in the far corner seemed to have a good view of the entrance. After a brief eye contact with the waiter, he made his way to the table, still surprised at the events that led him here.
It wasn’t more than five minutes when a woman entered through the door. Mat knew straight away it was Tiffany and smiled when their eyes met.
Her lips curved into a smile as well, and his whole body was suddenly on alert.
Three
Tiffany knew the man in the corner was Mat as soon as she looked at him. In her mind, his smile matched his laugh.
Yet, she double-checked and stole a quick look around just to be certain, but she wasn’t able to find another single man occupying a table. Her gaze fell back on Mat, who stood as she slowly walked towards him. There was an awkward silence in the air, briefly broken by the noise from the kitchen.
“Tiffany?”
She nodded, unable to speak, a thousand words running through her head, none of them making it to her vocal cords, though. And although her mind was still occupied by the saga with the police, during the occasional moments she’d thought about Mat she’d envisioned him to be the complete opposite. Looking at him, she knew he was trouble.
Good trouble.
Sexy trouble.
And thank goodness, he was from New Zealand, and most likely to return home soon, because she didn’t need trouble. Whether it was good or sexy. But damn, he had a body to die for. His black hair was cut short, his brown almond eyes alive with interest as he held her gaze.
They sat in silence, Tiffany still a bit overwhelmed by the situation. And Mat’s looks.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked at long last.
She nodded and was glad to get a “Cola please” over her lips.
There was a thin scar visible in his hairline, and she wondered what’d happened. When Mat lifted his arm to get the waiter’s attention, she noticed a tattoo on his arm, which disappeared under his shirt, but she assumed it was a Maori tattoo, which usually spread across the shoulder as well. His eyes and bronze skin told her he was probably of Maori origin.
He ordered their drinks and met her gaze again with a smile. It took her a lot of effort not to shiver with lust.
“It’s nice meeting you,” he said and smiled, revealing two small dimples in his cheek.
She let out a little laugh. “I still can’t believe I’m here.”
A broad grin crossed his face, and he winked at her. “I’m glad you came.”
Tiffany exhaled a shaky breath. “Okay, tell me a bit about you.”
Mat snorted. “No way. You’ll run away.”
“That bad?” she asked with a smile.
“Worse.”
“I can’t believe that.”
Warmth spread across his face. “What would you like to know?”
She thought about it. Not wanting to sound too eager, she asked, “Tell me about your tattoo. And your necklace—I like it.”
Cocking a brow, he moved his shirt up a little. “My tattoo?”
“I didn’t want to sound like a mother and ask for your life’s history.”
He shook his head as he laughed. “Technically, it’s a ta moko. It’s part of my Maori background. It used to be a tribal thing.”
“Is the necklace a tribal thing as well?”
“Don’t know much about your neighbours across the sea, do you?”
She gave a little shrug. “Never had a need to.”
“The pounamu toki is a symbol of strength and courage.”
Tiffany reached out and carefully held it with her thumb and finger. “I love it. It’s beautiful.” She met his gaze. “You’re proud of your heritage, aren’t you?”
He choked back a chuckle. “What makes you say that?”
“Not sure, but I get a feeling you’re not wearing it for show. It means something to you.”
“It’s what I am. I’m proud of what I am.” Mat took her hand in his. “Tell me what upset you this morning.”
The waiter brought their drinks, and she slowly removed her hand from his.
“How about we order dinner, ay?” he suggested.
They both ordered a pizza, hers a Hawaiian, Mat chose an Aussie classic, and for a moment their conversation shifted to Steve and how each of them knew him. Mat told her a mirror story of Steve’s about their years in Sydney.
“I went to Sydney a few years back, but it was way too hectic for me,” she told him with a sigh.
“It’s a great place, but it’s not NZ,” he replied.
“Steve told me your dad used to play rugby.”
He nodded. “He was an All Black.”
“Why didn’t you follow in his footsteps?”
Raising a brow, he leaned back to let the waiter place their meals on the table before he replied, “Everyone expected me to be like my dad. I wanted to be me.”
Tiffany took a piece of her pizza, pondering his statement. And liked it. For so long she’d competed with her successful brother, resulting in giving up and leaving school early. It had only been the last few years that she’d realised what she was, all she had become, was because of her own doings, and it wasn’t about competing, but becoming the best at her abilities. That was when she’d started the business management night classes.
“And what is it you do?” she asked.
“I’m a helicopter pilot.”
“Damn,” she exclaimed. “That’s not even close to rugby.”
He laughed as he lifted his glass to take a sip of his drink. “What about you?”
“My life’s boring. Not much to tell.”
He chuckled. “Boring? I have a feeling it’s quite the opposite. Come on. Let me be the judge of it. I know nothing about you except that you’re Steve’s friend, close friend. How do you know him?”
“He’s Liam’s best friend.”
He raised his brows enquiringly. “You know Liam?”
“Liam’s my brother. How do you know him?”
A frown appeared on his face. “How well do you know your brother? He came over for a visit with Steve a few years back.”
“I vaguely remember him travelling to Auckland while I was away.”
“Vaguely?”
“I spent three years travelling around Australia. As much as Mum and Dad tried to keep me up-to-date, they were vague on details.”
He nodded. “Three years on the road. Sounds like a great adventure. My brother had the same intentions at some stage, but life took over.”
“You have a brother? Younger or older?”
A grin stretched across his face. “Nice try. Back to your life.”
“Sorry.” She paused and blew out a breath. “It’s an odd story. A bit complicated as well. And doesn’t leave me in a good light, I suppose.”
Lifting his knife, he joked, “Killed someone?”
She looked past him towards the window to avoid his gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him placing his knife next to his plate before he rested his elbows on the table.
“The trouble this morning?”
Nodding, she bit her lower lip, worried he’d judge her. She wasn’t ready, yet, to not see him again. She studied his face, almost drowning in his eyes. He seemed so perfect in so many ways. Hudson had seemed so perfect, too.
And it scared her somewhat.
****
From the moment Tiffany had walked into the restaurant, Mat had an inkling that she wasn’t gay or a bitch for that matter. Not only did she look gorgeous in her plain tight jeans, a simple white T-shirt, and her kick-arse short haircut, but also her smile was genuine and bright, her blue eyes radiated peace and happiness — except when he’d asked whether she’d killed someone. Not for a second did he believe, though, that she’d killed someone. Her demeanour said differently. Tilting his head, he watched her avoiding his stare, biting her lips as she ran her fingers through her short hair, undoubtedly messing it up.
“Bad?”
Their eyes met again. “No. Not bad. A person I knew was killed and the circumstances…well, less than pleasant.”
“Accident?”
She snorted. “I’d say.”
“In a selfish way, I’m glad I’ve been able to put a little smile on your beautiful face.”
It didn’t get past him that her cheeks flushed a little, and he bit back a grin at his achievement.
“We both have brothers. We both have Steve as a great friend. We both like rugby…”
She laughed. “I know next to nothing about rugby. I know the All Blacks are from New Zealand, and they won the world cup.”
“Okay, fair enough. But you like sports.”
“More watching than being active. I like the occasional swim.”
“Lucky me. At the end of the dinner, I might be able to convince you to take me to a beautiful beach for a swim.”
Now her laugh was half a snort. “Without a doubt, All Black persistence.”
“Job?”
“Yes and no.”
He cocked a brow.
“I’m studying for my Diploma in Business Management. And some nights I work at the pub to get some extra cash.”
Taking a sip from his drink, he eyed her over the rim. “Business management,” he said, setting his glass on the table. “Impressive.”
“Not even close to as impressive as being a helicopter pilot,” she said, yet not looking at him.
Mat became more and more intrigued by her. Her shy nature, the self-doubt that shone through when talking about herself, and the hesitation to tell him more about the person she was.
“Born in Melbourne?”
“Yes, born
and raised in Melbourne. You?”
“Born in Queenstown, lived in Auckland most of my life, and moving to Queenstown soon.”
“North or south island?”
“Auckland is north, Queenstown is south.”
“New Zealand must be beautiful. I’ve never been there.”
Mat grinned, knowing too well, she’d changed the subject away from her again. But he didn’t push it any further and started telling her about New Zealand, a subject close to his heart he could’ve talked about for days. He enjoyed her company, her interest in most things, and the way she soaked up each of his words.
A couple of hours later, Tiffany checked her phone, and said, “I’m really sorry, but it’s time for me to go, but I will see you at Steve’s barbeque tomorrow, right?”
Mat nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
They stood, and he went to pay for the dinner before he joined Tiffany outside.
“Can I walk you to your car?”
With a soft laugh, she said, “It’s right there,” pointing at a red little car about twenty metres up the road. He groaned inwardly, knowing his time with her was about to be over. Placing his hand on the small of her back, they started walking the few metres in silence. Once they got to the car, Tiffany dug in her bag for the keys and pushed the remote to unlock it.
“Thanks for a nice evening,” she said just above a whisper. “It was just what I needed after a shitty day.”
It took all his courage, but he leaned in and gently touched her lips with his. Her soft breath touched his skin and teased his sanity. The taste of cola still lingered on her lips, and he was tempted to kiss her with all he had and all he felt at that moment. An undercurrent of attraction made him aware of how much he’d enjoyed their time together and how much he disliked letting her go already. He leaned back to meet her gaze and, although pleased, it surprised him she didn’t move back or slap his cheek. Unsure about her expression, he was confident, though, that there was no anger, but a hesitant smile, that made him want to kiss her again.
“Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.”
Her cheeks turned a soft shade of red.
“Will you be all right?” he asked.
