“I haven’t let you off the hook yet buddy. You still haven’t explained why I got roped into this extension.”
“You have the expertise. She needed someone she could trust. Who better than my own brother.”
“I presume it’s mates rates then?”
“I’d appreciate it if you would ditch the attitude. A low estimate would be preferable.”
Todd pulled into the kerb at Docklands, stopping behind Patrick’s car.
“You’re okay to drive? Or do you want to stay here tonight?”
“Yes, I can drive. I only had one glass of champagne. I stuck to water. I’ve a busy day tomorrow. Goodnight. Thanks for the dinner.” Patrick closed the door and flicked off a quick salute.
“Goodnight, safe drive home then.” Todd called out of the open window. He drove by and into the apartment’s parking garage.
Patrick grinned as he watched the taillights disappear around the corner. Driving home was the last thing on his mind; not immediately, at any rate.
As soon as he slid behind the wheel, he called Chloe and made a date for the following Friday evening. He recognised the need to strike while the iron was hot, and Chloe, in his opinion was very hot indeed. There had been a spark between them; he couldn’t have imagined it, could he? She’d held onto his hand a little too long. Todd had said there was nothing between them. Some little voice inside his head murmured that Chloe Armstrong was too good for him, too polished, too classy, that she was more Todd’s type. He wanted to prove that little voice wrong.
Thirty minutes later, thrilled with his Lothario expertise, he pulled the car in behind the restaurant they recently vacated. While Todd and Samantha had been perusing the menu earlier, he had been making eye contact with Sharon, their charming waitress. When he paid a visit to the restroom, he also paid a few compliments to the buxom redhead and had secured himself a late date.
“Yes, Patrick you old dog, it has been a very good night.” He reclined the seat, closed his eyes and waited for their waitress to finish her shift.
Todd poured himself a nightcap and silently toasted the success of his plan. Earlier in the evening he had stopped off at Chloe’s house on his way home, expecting Patrick to be long gone. Instead he noticed Patrick’s car was still parked outside. Putting two and two together, and knowing Patrick’s luck with the ladies, he began to worry. He hadn’t considered Chloe would be interested in his unsophisticated younger brother.
The side gate had been left open. He had walked around the side of the house towards the backyard. When he saw them through the unadorned open window, talking and laughing as if they were old friends, he stopped dead in his tracks. Jealousy had burnt in the pit of his stomach, and he backtracked noiselessly to the car. He knew then that he would have to something before they became anything more than friends.
Ironically, he wasn’t aware that his call had been so perfectly timed, changing the course of Patrick and Chloe’s evening. More importantly, he wasn’t aware of Patrick’s persistence in his pursuit of Chloe.
CHAPTER SIX
Chloe perched expectantly on her front steps, dressed in black jeans and a pale blue chambray shirt, waiting to be picked up by Patrick. Lingering inside the house and wasting such a sensational sunset would have been a sin.
As the sun slowly descended into the midnight blue water, a deep red wash adorned the sky directly above the horizon. She gazed at the ribbons of lilac clouds drifting overhead, shot with slivers of dusky pink, which rapidly turned purple. Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight. On such a warm and balmy evening, she wanted to infuse her body with the night air and enjoy the day coming to a close around her.
When Patrick had called earlier in the week, he had suggested an informal dinner at a local hotel. She had taken her cue from the words “informal dinner”, and tried not to read too much into this date. To any passer-by she would appear relaxed; a pretty blonde, her bag by her side, patiently waiting on her front step for her date to pick her up. The reality was she had changed clothes several times before she backtracked and decided on the first outfit she had selected from her wardrobe. Initially she had tried a messy bun, opting in the end for a simple ponytail, more in keeping with the jeans theme. First date nerves had caused her to lose sleep last night. She fervently hoped she would not be too tired to enjoy herself.
In Patrick’s opinion, if Chloe had been going for the “girl next door” look she had nailed it. She rose to her feet when he approached her. Without giving it too much thought, he grasped her shoulders and gently pulled her towards him, kissing her lightly on the lips. She didn’t resist. In fact, she happily responded, visibly relaxing in his arms. Their lips met several times more. Friendly kisses. Soft and teasing. The barest brush of lips, the slightest hint of a tongue sweeping over her bottom lip. Kisses to test the waters. Luscious lips. He pulled back and smiled at her.
“There, that gets the first kiss out of the way. I’ve wanted to do that since we met. No more awkwardness now. Shall we go?”
He clasped her hand as they walked to the car parked beside the kerb, a sleek black Audi sedan, and held open the door until she settled inside the leather interior. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
She turned towards him. A smile lifting the corners of her mouth drew his attention, and he couldn’t resist sampling another quick taste of her desirable lips, before he closed the door. She blushed and lowered her eyes.
Patrick suggested Chloe select the music as they drove. She silently ticked boxes. He demonstrated thoughtfulness and good manners with every gesture. He certainly knows how to tease, those kisses got me interested. They had intensified her desire for more of the same.
Renowned for its eclectic menu and boutique beer, the hotel in Williamstown pulsed with energy. Patrick had intended to keep this evening light to get to know Chloe, and hoped she would enjoy the ambience and the live music. She intrigued him, unlike his usual casual encounters, and he knew there were hidden depths to her worth investigating.
Several local bands played throughout the week. A personal favourite, ‘True Lies’ were playing tonight. Hopefully ‘The Boss’ were not rostered on to play a set. The female lead singer had made a play for him a while back, and might be a little annoyed seeing him out with a tall, attractive blonde on his arm. She had a reputation of being too intense. Not his thing at all. Footloose and fancy-free was more his style.
When they arrived at the bar, they found the stage empty, and located a table in the corner. The conversation flowed easily. No painful silences or pregnant pauses. After consulting Chloe on her choices, Patrick ordered some share plates of antipasto, bread and dips, accompanied by a chilled bottle of sauvignon blanc, and a beer from the extensive menu.
He discovered that Chloe, unlike a few of his recent dates, was interested in travel.
“I would love to go skiing in Canada. Tell me about the countryside. Where did you stay? “
“I travelled to Canada with a couple of guys from uni. We rented a private chalet for a few weeks and skied every day. It was so different to Australian skiing, so surreal on the slopes the first time. Just being there, I mean. A vast expanse of snow and picture perfect, like out of a TV commercial, or a movie. I half expected James Bond to come swooping down the mountain.”
“Yes when I think of the Alps, or any snow-covered mountain, I can see Roger Moore on skis in The Spy Who Loved Me being chased by the bad guys.”
“Are you a James Bond fan?”
“I am, actually. It was the first movie my father took me to. He had to look after me when Mum was shopping. He never considered I would be too young or unenthusiastic about James Bond. He always wanted a boy anyway. Just as well I enjoyed it.”
The band appeared up on stage and picked up their instruments. The female band member immediately registered their presence. She began to strut over to the table.
“This band is really good, looks like they have a new drummer.” Patrick’s head swivelled in the direction of t
he band. His sentence stopped abruptly when the woman reached the table. An awkward few seconds passed. The band started to play the intro to their first number, unconcerned or oblivious to the absence of their lead singer.
This ticked-off female had the Rock Chic look down pat, with her blonde spiky hair, black kohl-lined eyes, and full pouting red lips. For this evening’s performance she had donned a ruby-red sequined push-up bra, a transparent black sleeveless shirt unbuttoned and tied at the waist, and ripped black jeans, exposing a generous slice of toned thigh. Her boots had added notably to her sizeable height. She towered over them both.
“Hey Patrick. Long time, eh? Who’s your friend?” The woman cocked her head and glared at Chloe.
“Scarlett, this is Chloe. Chloe this is Scarlett, the lead singer of The Boss.”
As he made the introductions, he smiled at Scarlett, but she remained unimpressed. She struck a pose, one hand on her hip, and arched her back, pushing her sizeable breasts in his direction.
“Hi Scarlett, pleased to …” Before Chloe could even complete the greeting, Scarlett had turned on her platform heels, and jumped up on stage to belt out her first number. “Belt out” described her singing style to a T.
Every word Scarlett sang pierced the air, like poisonous darts aimed at Patrick’s head. Not overly concerned by Scarlett’s angry demeanour, Patrick pulled his chair closer to Chloe to whisper in her ear over the cacophony. Scarlett’s vocals grew louder and she pranced about the stage, furious but powerless. He kept one eye on her in case she decided to locate a more useful weapon to make her point.
As Patrick talked, his head inclined towards Chloe’s. My God, does he have a death wish? Chloe witnessed the fury radiating off Scarlett in waves, and the tsunami was no doubt headed in their direction. But all too soon Patrick’s closeness counteracted the angry vocals, and her eyes closed involuntarily. The words he uttered sounded indistinct, but his lips connecting with her ear spoke a language all their own. His thigh pressed against hers under the table, the heat and the pressure unmistakable. So intent on Patrick, on him and him alone, so aware of his proximity, everyone around her seemed to fade into the background. She wanted to receive the kiss that she knew waited for her as soon as she turned her head to face him. As she turned her body towards him slightly, anticipation sending delicious incoming signals to every cell, a hand clamped onto her shoulder, effectively stopping her from going any further with that plan.
“Hello you two, mind if we join you?” Samantha’s hand rested on Chloe’s shoulder as she bent down to place a brief kiss on Patrick’s cheek.
Samantha moved to the other side of the table, and a well-dressed man sat down opposite Chloe. He smiled and tipped the waitress who deposited their drinks.
“It’s packed in here tonight. It was a fluke I spotted you two, tucked away in the corner, with a table all to yourselves. After the day I’ve had I didn’t relish standing up by the bar!” Samantha lifted her glass and beamed at them. “Cheers.”
Patrick tapped his glass against Samantha’s, and when she bent to sip her cocktail, he cast apologetic eyes at Chloe.
“Chloe, where are my manners!” Samantha took the man’s hand in hers. “This handsome devil is my husband Malcolm. Mal, I’m sure I’ve talked about meeting Chloe Armstrong. Chloe was a dancer in Paris.”
“Ah yes, Chloe and Todd … Oh sorry, I thought …” Malcolm stopped, looking first at Patrick and then at Chloe, realising his blunder a second too late. His eyes darted to Samantha.
Samantha immediately shot Malcolm a shocked look, obviously willing him to shut up.
Eager to cover the embarrassing faux pas, they all began talking at once. Awkward. Laughter rang out around the table for a few seconds, before they settled into general chitchat. The conversation quickly turned to sports. Mal and Patrick began to discuss AFL players and their prospects for the next season. Samantha and Chloe discovered a shared love of tennis, and watching the telecasts of whomever managed to win their way onto centre court at Wimbledon.
Chloe had reluctantly abandoned any attempt to get know Patrick better. Luckily the small group found themselves immersed in lively discussion, the company, and enjoying the evening. As the night wore on, even Scarlett stopped prancing in their direction and concentrated her attention on a group of more ardent fans in the opposite corner.
Chloe noticed Samantha had become quieter in the last half an hour.
“I wonder if I could ask a favour and grab a ride home with you since you pass by our place on the way. I’m starting to get a migraine. I can feel the jackhammer in my head already. My own fault. I should’ve left earlier when I felt the headache begin.” Samantha’s pale complexion and weak smile was testament to her condition.
“Maybe we should get a taxi, Sam?” Malcolm helped his wife to her feet, and placed a protective arm around her shoulders.
“It’s no problem, Mal.” Patrick offered. “I’ve witnessed Sam’s migraines in the past. It’s probably best to get home as soon as possible. Getting a taxi isn’t as easy as it used to be at this time of night. You don’t mind if we leave now do you, Chloe? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Of course not. Take Samantha and Malcolm home. She looks really pale now.” Chloe stood and picked up her handbag.
“You are a sweetheart.” Samantha squeezed Chloe’s hand. She winced and closed her eyes.
Chloe had clung to the hope that they would spend more time getting to know one another at the end of the evening. She had even toyed with the idea of asking him in for a coffee when he dropped her home. Patrick escorted Chloe to her door, cupped her face in his hands and softly kissed her goodnight. Obviously aware of the eyes boring into his back, he made it quick.
“I’m sorry, Chloe, I didn’t anticipate this. I’m working on a big job near Warragul this coming week, so I’ll be away for a few days. How about we try this again next Friday night? Maybe we could drive down the beach road. If you like Greek food, there’s a Greek restaurant famous for their Friday night lamb feast in Mornington.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Sam doesn’t look well at all. Thanks, I enjoyed myself tonight.” She she noticed his eyebrow arch up. “I really did. Thank you for a lovely evening. You don’t have to make it up to me … however, I would like to take you up on your offer of a second date. Greek food sounds delicious.”
“Great. Friday it is. I’ll call you, okay?” He brought both her hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips. His eyes searched her face. Then he surprised her by pulling her gently towards him and kissing her deeply.
Shivers ran up and down Chloe’s spine as her hands met his rock-hard chest and became sandwiched between them. Goosebumps broke out on her skin. His passionate kiss took her places she had long forgotten. Wow, the man can kiss. Desire flooded her brain, and when he pulled away, she felt dizzy and disorientated. Hey … come back here.
It took a few seconds for her to realise he was talking to her, saying goodnight, backing down the steps and the path, to the car idling by the kerb. She floated inside, locked the door, and made her way upstairs to her bedroom, unaware of Truffle trying to attract her attention by winding through her legs.
She changed into comfortable pj bottoms and a tank top, brushed her teeth and climbed in to bed on autopilot, still thinking of that kiss and her body’s response to it. As she drifted off to sleep, the last thoughts she had were of his eyes, the colour of midnight, as he kissed her hands.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Chloe spread out several drop sheets on the stairs and in the hall on the second floor. Paint tins and rollers had been lined up at the foot of the stairs in preparation for tomorrow’s early morning start. She had just moved the ladder into position on the landing when the doorbell rang. Oh no, he’s early! She quickly stepped over Truffle who had been shadowing her all day. He trotted downstairs behind her.
“Oh. Hi Todd, come in.” She accepted his kiss on her cheek, and moved aside to allow him to enter. “When I heard the doo
rbell, I thought it was Patrick arriving really early. She pulled out the front of her bib overalls, splattered in paint. “As you can see, I’m not ready yet and he’s picking me up for a meal later.”
“I gather you’re preparing to paint upstairs.” Todd gestured towards the rollers, paint pots and ladder on the landing, He took the first few steps and studied the height of the ceiling. “Don’t you think you should call in a painter? It’s a bit tricky to reach those high ceilings.”
“I think I can manage. I have long-handed rollers.” Chloe’s smile faltered.
“I don’t see why you would want to take on all this work yourself. Ask Patrick, since you two seem to be getting along famously. I’m sure he could suggest a reliable painter. A professional could probably get it done in half the time.”
Facing in the opposite direction, he was unaware of the scowl forming on Chloe’s face. Todd rambled on. “Get someone in who knows what they are doing. Look. The walls up here are a bit streaked. It’s not the best job.”
“That’s the first coat, Todd. I might not be the best but I enjoy painting.” She fisted her hands on her hips.
“You’re kidding me … right? Enjoy painting? Why would you get any pleasure out of being on your feet all day, working yourself to exhaustion scraping and sanding, and getting covered in paint?”
Todd ran his hand over the paintwork, his face masked. “You look washed out and tired all the time. We haven’t caught up for a meal or even coffee in days because you’re busy sanding and prepping and painting. You’re living in a renovator’s building site, with the constant fumes and the paint paraphernalia all around you. How could you be enjoying this?” He spread his arms wide.
Todd didn’t see the storm clouds brewing in her eyes until he turned.” What?”
From Paris to Forever Page 6
