by Huston, Judy
“Well, don’t you look scary,” the receptionist said as the boy passed her desk.
“The lady said we were her very last customers today,” he announced importantly.
Josh slung his black leather jacket over one shoulder and strolled out, pausing under the canopy. The sky was still grey but the rain had eased. Along the foreshore he could see the remaining handful of booths being dismantled.
She’d probably left by now. The boy might even have been referring to another face painter.
Although he didn’t think so.
Her style was quite distinctive.
****
“Need a hand?”
Trying to adjust the backpack containing her face painting gear, Dimity swung around with a faint yelp of surprise. At the same time, the descending darkness triggered a nearby streetlight, illuminating the amused face looking down at her.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you. You looked as if you were struggling.”
“I am.” Ruefully she shrugged off the backpack. “I don’t have the shoulder shape for these things.”
“Aren’t sloping shoulders supposed to be a sign of beauty?”
How did he know her shoulders sloped? And were they fated never to have a conversation that began normally? Automatically she started to reach for the sunglasses that she had shoved into the pocket of her jeans as darkness fell, then changed her mind. He had already seen her at her worst.
“Were you – just passing?” She glanced around the nearly deserted area.
“I’m about to head home to Sydney and thought I’d stretch my legs first.” He picked her pack up. “Where’s your car?”
“At the repair place. Why?” The words home to Sydney reverberated in Dimity’s mind.
“The repair place? Oh, the accident. So how are you getting home?”
“With a friend.”
“Is he meeting you here?”
“She. The one I tried to call when – Sandra. She runs a hairdressing salon. I’m going to meet her there.”
Hearing herself gabbling Dimity stopped, annoyed by the awkwardness that seemed to afflict her whenever they met.
Well, as he apparently lived in Sydney, almost 200 kilometres south of Newcastle, that shouldn’t happen too often.
Somehow they started walking back along the foreshore footpath, Josh carrying the backpack with one hand as though it weighed nothing.
“Do you do a lot of face painting?” he queried.
“Just at special events, for the art gallery. It’s a chance to hand out leaflets about workshops they hold for children.”
“You worked at the art gallery?”
“I was their education officer for a couple of years. But I left at the end of last year to start a little gallery of my own.”
“Really? How’s it doing?”
They seemed to be talking a lot about her. But with a million butterflies going mad in her stomach for no reason she could fathom, it was easier to follow his lead than to try to think of other subject matter.
“I had to put it on hold for various reasons. By then they’d replaced me at the gallery so I’m temping for a while.”
As a précis of her working life, her answers hardly covered her with glory. But as their paths weren’t likely to cross again, it hardly mattered.
They had reached the walkway to the shops. Dimity stopped under a street light near the hotel.
“The salon’s across the street. I can manage from here.”
“It’s no trouble to go over with you.”
The offer was almost too tempting to refuse. But as she had told Sandra so firmly, she didn’t need distractions. Anyway, although he seemed friendly she could sense a tension in his manner. He was probably impatient to be on his way. No doubt he was acting only out of politeness. After all, what other reason could he have for wanting to walk across the road with her?
Smiling with as much composure as she could manage, Dimity shook her head.
“You’ve done more than enough. I don’t think I even said thank you properly.”
“No problem.”
His tone was neutral, almost offhand. Once again, he wasn’t going to argue. Whether she accepted his offer or not clearly meant nothing to him. Well, good. Fine. It just confirmed that she had been right to follow her instinct.
“Glad I could help,” he added.
“Glad you were there. I’ve never been so embarrassed.”
Damn! The words had escaped before she could stop them.
“Hey!” His tension relaxed as he half-raised a hand in laughing protest. “Don’t be embarrassed. I have three older sisters. There aren’t many emergencies I haven’t seen.”
“Any split skirts?” asked Dimity hopefully, forgetting her resolution to make a speedy departure.
“We-e-ell, not yet, but I wouldn’t rule it out. Like all women they tend to wear clothes that don’t fit prop –” He broke off.
Dimity couldn’t repress the throaty gurgle that often plagued her at inappropriate moments. His eyes responded, crinkling at her in a most attractive way. It took a serious effort to think of something else to say.
“Did you – um – give the sheet back?”
“Sure did. The woman said she’ll put it through the laundry again.”
Dimity grimaced.
“It’ll probably fall to pieces.”
“I think the company can wear the loss.”
His quick grin was contagious. She smiled back, and again found it hard to unlock her eyes from his.
He continued to watch her while the grin slowly faded.
Forcing her eyes to change direction, Dimity found her gaze resting on his mouth instead. Not too full, not too thin, just right in fact. Sensual, but subtly so.
Gawking at his mouth was not a good idea if she wanted to keep her composure. Her eyes flickered away again, trying to find something else to occupy her attention. Still no rings on his fingers.
“Before I forget.” He handed her a business card. “In case the other one doesn’t turn up.”
“Thanks.” As she took it, her phone rang. She grabbed it from her bag and was about to cut the call off when she saw it was from Shane.
“Sorry. Won’t be a minute.”
“Go right ahead.” He turned away slightly, watching the harbour.
“Where are you?” Shane demanded as soon as she answered.
“Still in town. Why?”
“I’ve been called in to work tonight. I wanted to make sure you’d be home in time to take me.”
Glancing automatically at the card in her hand, Dimity gave an exclamation.
“I know it’s a pain and I’d ask Leigh, but she wants to go to bed early. I can get a lift home, though, so you won’t have to stay up late,” Shane added persuasively.
“All right.” It was easier than arguing. She looked at the card again.
“Thanks. Love you, Dim-Sim.”
He cut the call off.
“Sure you do, when it suits you,” she muttered.
Josh turned as she replaced the phone in her bag.
“I’ll have to go,” she said.
“Okay.” He held the backpack for her to put her arms through the straps. Then he lifted it, settling it carefully.
“It’s too heavy for you.”
“It’s fine, really.” She glanced over her shoulder, recoiling slightly when she found his face closer to hers than she had expected. “Do you live in Sydney?”
He seemed to brighten.
“I’m based there, but –”
“Oh, great.” Unable to prevent her voice resonating with relief, Dimity saw him stiffen. “I mean it’s a great place. Sydney. Well, it’s been really nice meeting you. Thanks again.”
She took off across the walkway with as much panache as the bulky backpack would allow, her exit somewhat spoiled when she stumbled on an uneven section of the walkway. Recovering, she charged onward without looking back.
“Easy to see why you’re sti
ll in town,” said a voice behind Josh.
He looked around sharply. Malcolm had emerged from the hotel, eyes narrowed lasciviously as he watched Dimity’s rapid retreat. “Wouldn’t mind having her at the other end of a function table.”
For the first time in his life Josh enjoyed the thought of smashing someone’s nose to a pulp.
“Time I was heading home. Nice meeting you,” he added mendaciously.
“What happened to her eyes?” queried Malcolm, uninterested in the niceties.
“Car accident.”
Malcolm’s eyebrows rose.
“That could mean her car’s out of action. Might see if she needs a lift.”
“Someone’s taking her home.”
“Pity. I wouldn’t have minded a souvenir like yours.”
“Meaning?”
“Lipstick on the collar. Or was it somewhere else?”
Thrusting his hands into the pocket of his jacket out of temptation’s way, Josh returned Malcolm’s stare. If this creep followed Dimity, he’d be right behind him.
Perhaps Malcolm read his thoughts. He gave that annoying click of his fingers and turned towards the hotel.
“Forgot something. Give my love to head office.”
“I’m going down to the car park. I’ll walk in with you.”
Josh loitered by the reception desk until Malcolm disappeared in the direction of the restaurant. Only then did he take the stairs to the parking area.
He didn’t drive out immediately. Some instinct told him to sit quietly for a few minutes, lowering the stress levels Malcolm had succeeded in raising.
Dimity’s attitude hadn’t helped, either.
He’d thought she seemed pleased to see him again, but he must have got it wrong. She’d been elated to hear that he didn’t live locally and had bolted before he could even ask for her phone number.
Well, she had his card. If she didn’t lose it again.
Or throw it away.
As he finally started the engine he hoped she’d reached her friend’s salon by now. It wasn’t much of a night for wandering around town.
Not that it should matter to him.
But he would have liked to know for sure she was safe.
****
Sandra rang before Dimity reached the salon.
“Dim, I’m sorry, but I’d forgotten I had a bride coming in at six for a make-up trial. Do you want to come here and wait?”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll get a bus. Shane needs a lift to work.”
“Honestly, Dim, the way you wear yourself into the ground for that boy makes me grind my teeth, sometimes.”
“But his foot does hurt, Sandy.”
“I’m biting my tongue,” Sandra told her. “It’s your brother. His girlfriend. Their dog. Tell me to mind my own business.”
“Mind your own business,” said Dimity more sharply than she intended, then was immediately contrite. “Don’t take any notice of me, Sandy. It’s been another of those days. Come for dinner and hear the latest.”
“ Will do.”
Heaving the backpack into a more comfortable position, Dimity retraced her steps across the walkway to a bus shelter opposite the hotel. A timetable on the wall told her the next bus was due in ten minutes.
The shelter was dark and far from fragrant. She lowered her backpack to the ground and stood outside rather than taking advantage of its fairly primitive facilities: a wooden bench surrounded by three acrylic glass walls topped with an aluminium roof. When the rain resumed, forcing her inside, she huddled against one of the transparent walls, feeling like a goldfish in a bowl whenever the beam of headlights swept past.
In spite of her sweater, she was cold. Thinking the rain had stopped, and expecting to travel home in Sandra’s car, she had put her parka in the backpack. It now seemed too much trouble to get it out, especially with the bus due soon.
As a car drove past on the other side of the street she thought she glimpsed, in its headlights, a figure standing near the hotel’s entrance, facing her way.
Probably just someone waiting to cross. Nothing to worry about.
For a minute or two there was a break in the traffic.
Whoever it was could have crossed by now. But nobody appeared although, as far as she could see through the rain and darkness, the area in front of the hotel was now deserted.
Maybe she had imagined it.
She looked up the street, willing the bus to appear.
CHAPTER THREE
Lights from a car leaving the hotel’s underground parking area flooded the shelter for a few seconds. Dimity pressed even closer to the wall, trying to make herself invisible.
The car travelled to a break in the median strip, did a quick U-turn and drove back, stopping at the shelter. A tall figure emerged, striding towards her through the rain.
With the knuckles of her hand pressed to her mouth, Dimity gave an audible gasp of relief when she recognised Josh.
“What happened?” His tone was more abrupt than she remembered. She saw his nose wrinkle at the shelter’s aroma. “I thought someone was taking you home.”
“She’s working late. It wouldn’t have mattered – I mean, I could have waited but I’m going out later so I wanted to get home –”
Even her teeth were chattering. Pulling off his jacket, he cut through the babble talk.
“Here, you’re freezing.”
Dimity wasn’t sure if she was shivering from cold or reaction. Either way it was immensely comforting to feel the leather jacket around her shoulders.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
She hesitated.
“I don’t want to take you out of your way.”
Eyebrows raised, he eyed her with a hint of the same impatience she had noticed in the hotel corridor.
“Would you rather wait in this stinking place or drive home in comfort?”
She took a deep breath that she hoped he wouldn’t see.
“You’ve talked me into it.”
Heads down against the rain they hurried to the car. Dimity got into the front passenger seat while Josh heaved her pack into the back. He closed both doors and went around to the driver’s side, giving her a rueful grin as he slid behind the wheel.
“Didn’t mean to be high-handed. I was just trying to make it clear that refusal was not an option.”
She found herself grinning back.
“Are you always so persuasive?”
“Always. A cattle prod helps, too.”
He glanced up the road, the smile lingering on his lips. Drops of rain gleamed on his dark hair.
“Want to navigate?”
Dimity jumped. She’d forgotten why she was there.
“Straight ahead for a while. I’ll tell you when to turn.”
They were silent as he drove through the Saturday evening city traffic. From the corner of her eye, hugging the jacket around her, Dimity watched his long, lean fingers controlling the steering wheel. Her eyes drifted to the supple wrists, catching the slight play of muscles revealed by the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms.
She could still feel a warm trail across her shoulders where his arm had rested for an instant when he put the jacket around her. The memory evoked an involuntary shiver.
“The heater should kick in soon,” he said. “ I was just leaving when I spotted you.”
“I’m glad you did.” She hesitated. “Did you notice someone near the hotel entrance?”
“No, but I wasn’t really looking.” He glanced across at her. “Why?”
“I thought someone was watching me. Probably my imagination.”
Josh frowned.
“Malcolm said something about seeing if you needed a lift. But he doesn’t strike me as the type to stand around wondering.”
“No. Well, I’m glad he didn’t find me. I’d much rather –”
Dimity almost bit her tongue off to stop herself adding “go home with you.”
For goodness sake, Dim, settle down! she told he
rself sternly. He’s only giving you a lift.
“By the way,” he said, changing lanes to pass a lumbering bus, “I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you at first yesterday when you brought the sheet back. You looked different. More ordinary. No, sorry, I mean–”
For a Mr Cool he sounded unexpectedly embarrassed. Dimity felt her tension unwind. Embarrassment was something she could relate to.
“More – conventional?” She tried to choke the gurgle back but failed.
“Let’s say – comfortable.” He gave her a sideways grin as they stopped at a red light. Those brown eyes had a life of their own. She felt her own dancing in response.
“Sandy was practising on me for a hair colouring competition while I took a lunch break from the face painting,” she explained. “Then a recruitment agency rang, giving me half an hour to get to – um – to a job interview. There wasn’t time to go home and change so I borrowed an outfit Sandy had at the salon, and let her do my makeup.”
She paused, recalling the results.
“Sandy’s tastes can be – well, bizarre,” she added.
“No kidding.” Josh maintained a deadpan expression. Dimity giggled.
“And we’re different sizes.”
“My sisters are like that. They swap clothes all the time. The size thing doesn’t seem to worry them.”
“Do you have any brothers?”
“One, younger than me. He’s had his moments but he’s a great kid now. How about you?”
“One younger brother. Shane. He was working as a chef in Sydney but the restaurant folded. He’s back home with his girlfriend until he finds something.”
“The brother with the unusual CV.” He was grinning broadly.
“Sandy’s work again,” Dimity said wryly. “She’s always trying to match me up. She printed that stuff out on my computer and I picked it up by mistake.”
“That explains it. I didn’t think you’d need to go searching the internet for a partner.”
His quick look made her stomach do that darned flip-flop thing again.
“Turn left at these lights,” she said, glad of an excuse to change the subject. “Then straight ahead to the roundabout and turn right. That takes you down a steep hill.”
“You weren’t kidding,” Josh commented a few minutes later, easing the car down an incline that seemed almost vertical. “I wouldn’t want to try this without brakes. And I wouldn’t want to live there,” he added, nodding at a brick house facing them directly across the road from the T-intersection where the descent ended.
