He scowled. Rotten insurance companies.
‘One of the local radio stations put a call out to tradesmen for help and they were flooded with offers. Apparently the advertising the tradesmen received was worth the work they did. We could do something similar. We could create a bewitchingly irresistible press release and send it in to the station of our choice.’
That had potential. ‘I have a contact at one of the radio stations.’ His heart started to thump. If they could get a fumigator and an electrician free...
For a moment he was tempted to seize her face in his hands and kiss her. He took a gulp of his drink instead.
She shimmied in her chair, her eyes bright. ‘Do you have a contact at the local television station?’
Why wasn’t he the one bubbling over with ideas? Once upon a time... He shook the thought off. ‘You’re thinking of getting someone to interview me, you, some of the staff?’
‘I’d prefer to remain in the background.’
He remembered her ex-boyfriend and beneath the table his hand clenched. ‘Right.’ He frowned. ‘Look, I’ve spoken to the press a lot, Neen, and I have no problem with that, but some of the boys are barely articulate.’ If they did a television interview they’d need to show the boys to their advantage or they’d be doing more harm than good.
Her lip curled. ‘Aren’t you sick of all those earnest ad campaigns?’
He shrugged. All he knew was if you stuck a puppy, kitten or a baby in front of a camera you received ten times more funding.
‘Why couldn’t we do something fun? Use humour?’
He recognised the fire in her eyes and momentarily envied it. ‘Like...?’
She suddenly laughed, and it hit him that she smelled of the crisp alpine air that could be found in Tasmania’s Southwest National Park. A place he hadn’t visited in over...
Ten years.
He swallowed and kept his eyes on Neen’s laughing face until the darkness started to dissolve and lose its hold.
‘Why couldn’t we show a motley bunch of teenage boys walking the streets and looking threatening and scary, with a voiceover that says, “Do you want these boys prowling your street?” There could be elderly people rushing into their homes and locking their doors in a really over-the-top way. And then we could pan to the café, with all the boys gainfully employed and serving coffee and scrummy cake to all those previously scared residents. The voiceover could then say something along the lines of, “Help us get them off the streets and gainfully employed”.’
Rico had to laugh at the picture she’d created.
‘We wouldn’t show them actually doing anything illegal. There’d just be a whole gang of them, and they’d be pushing and shoving each other and yahooing like teenage boys do. For some reason people seem to find that intimidating.’
But she didn’t?
He remembered the way she’d bellowed at Monty on the beach and shook his head. Of course she didn’t. He frowned, though, when he remembered the way she’d jumped when that car had backfired. Was that just to do with her ex?
‘It’d generate interest.’
‘It’d cost valuable money...and time.’
‘But if it brings attention to your cause...?’
She had a point.
‘Anyway, let’s move on. As far as an advertising campaign goes, that’s your lookout.’
He marvelled at her energy.
‘I think once we have the occupational health and safety approval we should organise a working bee. We could do the whole radio call-out for help, but can you convince your teenagers to work for nothing?’
‘Some of them, yes.’ Some of them desperately wanted work, wanted a chance. More than he could possibly employ this time around.
‘If they help paint and decorate the café I expect they’ll start to feel invested in it. Especially if we reward them with free pizza.’
‘That’s an excellent plan.’
She sipped her beer. ‘And one you’d already thought of, I see.’
It was something of a relief to know she didn’t have a monopoly on good ideas. ‘Promise teenage boys free food and they’ll be there—wherever there is.’
She laughed. ‘This is probably something else you’ve already considered, but...’
‘But?’
‘We will get tradesman who’ll offer us their time free of charge—painters and carpenters—if we put a call out. Are there any likely suspects among your boys who’d welcome an apprenticeship in those areas?’
He was already on it, but... ‘Darn, you’re good.’
‘I also think we need to build up hype for the café’s opening. Could we raffle or auction tickets to attend lunch on our opening day?’
He rested his elbows on the table. ‘I think it’s a great idea, but I still want to open the café a week Wednesday.’
She pursed her lips, and he almost laughed at the way she hauled in a breath.
‘So we’re going to be busy next week, huh?’
‘Flat out. I’d rather advertise a gala event for a couple of months down the track. I’d like to invite restaurateurs, managers of catering firms, hoteliers...anyone who might be interested in hiring our trainees.’
She clapped her hands. ‘We could work towards a Melbourne Cup luncheon. That gives us plenty of time to get the boys up to scratch.’
And it would give them time to create a snowball effect in the local media too, with the clock ticking down the days. ‘Excellent!’
He sat back. Instead of hard work and an endless round of bureaucratic red tape, Rico started to envisage the fun of the project, the satisfaction of achievement...and the knowledge that he could make this project work.
He could get boys with too much time on their hands off the streets. He could give them a sense of direction.
He stared at Neen. Again he had to fight the urge to reach across and kiss her.
He rolled his shoulders. Gratitude. That was all it was.
He drained the rest of his squash. ‘Neen, I’m impressed. I knew the moment you walked into my office that you were the right person for the job.’ Which begged the question, why had he ranked two other applicants higher? Why hadn’t he trusted his gut instinct?
‘But?’
‘It’s only now I’m seeing exactly how right you are for it. When you refused to sign the two-year contract I questioned your commitment, but I was wrong.’ He sat back. ‘Exactly where have you come by all your energy, your ideas?’ Because if he could he’d bottle it.
Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She ducked her head to hide them and his chest clenched tighter than a politician’s handout.
‘What...?’ He swallowed. ‘I was offering you a compliment.’ Or at least trying to. ‘What did I say wrong?’
* * *
The red sting took Neen completely off guard. She forced herself to breathe through it, though the effort left her throat bruised and her eyes aching. She gave thanks that the pub was dim and quiet.
‘What did I say wrong?’
She was barely acquainted with this man, but she knew down to the last detail the frown he’d be wearing. She went to say it was nothing, that she was just being silly, but the words refused to come.
To be perfectly frank, she didn’t feel like lying. Not to Rico. He might be driven, and wholly given over to his good cause, but beneath it all he was a nice man. He saw a problem and searched for a solution.
Except for that brief moment back in the courtyard earlier. Then he’d looked as if he could sleep for fifty years.
She glanced up and winced at the concern in his eyes. She didn’t want him turning her into some paragon and sticking her on a pedestal titled ‘Exemplary Employee’. She’d only disappoint him. She expected that enough of his job was thankless as it was.
She didn’t want to add to his load.
She forced back a sigh. ‘You asked me where my energy and my ideas came from...’
‘The question was rhetorical. I was trying to praise you.’
‘I know, and I appreciate it. You made me feel I was doing good work, making a difference in a good way.’ It had been a while since anyone had made her feel like that.
‘But...?’
She leaned towards him. She almost reached out to touch his hand. At the last moment she pulled back, though she couldn’t have explained why. ‘Rico, my dream is to own my own café. For three and a half months I thought that dream was about to become a reality. I was scouting out premises. I was playing around with prospective menus. I got talking to people in the know about prospective staff. My mind was buzzing with ideas. But...’
She couldn’t go on. Her dream had been delayed indefinitely and its promise tarnished. Maybe forever. And...
A weight bore down on her, threatening to crush something good and pure inside her. She stiffened her spine and fought the urge to drop her head to her hands.
‘But it’s had to go on hold while the will is sorted out?’ he murmured.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘And my café is reaping the rewards of your disappointment?’
He did understand.
He reached out and clasped her hand. It flooded her with warmth and something else she couldn’t name.
‘Neen, it’s only a delay. You’ll get your café eventually. You’re smart and capable and—’
‘Rico.’ She didn’t want him to think she was wallowing in self-pity. ‘I’m grateful for the chance you’ve given me. If, at the moment, I can’t put my plans for a café into action, then running yours is the next best thing.’ It would keep her busy. It would distract her from the shambles her life had become. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m not fully focused, or that I’m going to let you down. Regardless of what happens with the will, I’ve promised you a year.’ She wouldn’t renege on that.
‘I’m not questioning your commitment, Neen.’
She nodded. ‘I don’t want you thinking I’m promising more than that either, though.’
He sat back. He removed his hand from hers. It was only then she realised how much it had anchored her, and that made her frown.
‘I hear what you’re saying.’
His face had become a mask, and her heart protested at his withdrawal, but she told herself it was for the best. She didn’t want him thinking she meant to take his cause up as her own.
She had dreams. People with causes would no doubt consider those dreams selfish. Acid filled her mouth. It was exactly what her parents had told her last night. They were too fanatical to recognise their own self-absorption.
She shook the thought off, along with the memory of last night’s dinner. It did no good to dwell on it. She needed to focus on something else.
‘When will I meet your boys?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘I asked a few of them to meet us at the community centre this afternoon.’
The community centre? That didn’t sound too bad. It was better than a skate park or a basketball court.
‘Do they use the centre as a meeting place?’ Community centres ran programmes, didn’t they? She crossed her fingers. She really hoped Rico’s boys were serious about working hard and taking this chance they were being offered rather than looking for ways to scam the system.
It wasn’t a charitable thought, but she refused to get her hopes up. Disappointment had figured too prominently on her personal landscape lately. She wasn’t opening herself up for more.
Still, if they worked hard she’d give credit where it was due. If not... Well, then, Rico would hear about it.
‘There’s a free gym attached to the centre. They use it fairly regularly.’
So no taking part in literacy or numeracy programmes, then? But she couldn’t help noticing the way Rico’s face softened as he spoke about them.
Those dark eyes of his suddenly narrowed on her face. ‘I want you to give these kids a chance, Neen. They’re rough around the edges, but they’ve had things tough.’
She raised her hands. ‘I have no intention of prejudging them.’
He didn’t look wholly convinced. ‘Most people expect the worst of them. I try to expect the best.’
No wonder he looked so darn tired. Her heart suddenly burned for him. ‘I hope these kids know how lucky they are to have you as their champion.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘How did you fall into this line of work anyway?’
The light in his eyes seemed almost to go out. ‘There was no falling involved. It was very deliberate.’
She waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. She swallowed. Right. She nodded once, hard, and reminded herself that she was an employee and nothing more. Even though she now had a brand-new screen door and top-of-the-line security system. What was it he’d said? He was protecting his investment. That was all.
She had to remind herself that she didn’t find men driven by a good cause the least bit attractive either.
And even if she did, a relationship, or a fling, or anything the remotest bit romantic was the last thing she’d contemplate. She’d gone searching for love and look where that had landed her. She’d learned her lesson on that score, and nobody could accuse her of being a slow learner.
‘Okay, then.’ She rose. ‘Take me to this community centre of yours.’
* * *
Neen met four of the boys Rico had tagged to work in the café. She was supposed to meet five, but one of them didn’t show up. They mumbled hellos and were relatively polite to her, and respectful of Rico, but with each other they were rough-and-tumble and utterly foul-mouthed.
‘What did you think?’ Rico asked when they left the community centre forty minutes later.
She glanced at him. ‘I think I need a coffee.’
He stiffened. ‘They’re not that bad.’
‘I didn’t say they were. Why are you being so defensive?’
His reactions to and relationship with the boys had utterly confounded her. He was such an advocate for them that she’d expected him to have an easy, big-brotherly relationship with them. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Oh, each and every one of the boys she’d just met respected him—there was no doubt about that—but Rico held himself at a distance, at one remove from them, and she didn’t understand why.
She shook her head. Understanding Rico wasn’t part of her job description.
She turned to him. ‘There’s a coffee shop nearby that I wouldn’t mind showing you. I wouldn’t mind chatting to you about the boys and the physical logistics of the café itself too.’
He frowned. ‘In relation to each other?’
She nodded, and set off in the direction of the coffee shop.
His long legs caught up with her before she’d gone three paces. ‘I have no idea how your mind works,’ he grumbled.
That made them just about equal, then.
‘You wanted me to meet the boys, fall in love with them then tell you that your café plan was going to go without a hitch and be a roaring success, didn’t you?’
His lips turned down just for a moment, and then the humour in his eyes made her pulse skip and dance. He looked younger when he smiled. He should do it more often. She couldn’t help wondering why he didn’t.
No curiosity!
‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
She stared at his firm, lean lips before snapping herself free.
‘But it would’ve been nice,’ he went on. ‘Instead you’ve been imagining problems and disasters.’
She raised an eyebrow. It seemed he didn’t have any problem whatsoever with figuring out how her mind
worked. ‘Along with possible solutions,’ she said.
He stared, and then shook his head. ‘Of course you have.’ But he said the words almost to himself. ‘Sorry.’ He rubbed the nape of his neck. ‘I’m so used to having to defend these kids that I automatically...’
His sentence trailed off. She didn’t bother finishing it for him. She led him into the café instead.
‘What do you think?’ She waved a hand around at the décor while they waited for their coffees to arrive.
‘Nice,’ he said finally. ‘It’s charming and homey...cosy.’ He swung to her. ‘It’d be great if we could create an atmosphere like this.’
She bit back a sigh. That was never going to happen. ‘Our coffees are ready. I want you to watch the waitress.’
They both thanked her when she slid their cups in front of them. ‘What was I supposed to see?’ he asked when the girl returned to the counter.
‘She’s tiny, right? And quite graceful?’
‘I suppose.’
‘Now look at the amount of space between the tables. It’s small, yes? Now think of the size of those boys you just introduced me to.’ She looked at him. ‘I’d forgotten how awkward and clumsy teenage boys can be.’
‘They’ll learn!’
‘Oh, Rico, will you stop being defensive for just one moment? I’m not saying they won’t learn. What I’m trying to say is if we want to show them off to their best advantage we need to create an environment where we can do exactly that.’
He stared at her. He tapped a hand against the table. ‘So when potential employees drop in to scope out the talent...?’
‘Precisely.’ She leaned forward. ‘I think we’re better off going for clean lines and fewer tables rather than this cosy country-comfort feel. We should take advantage of the history in Battery Point and do the whole colonial convict thing. That looks great when it’s kept lean and spare.’
He leaned forward too, his eyes intent on hers. Dark eyes that could beguile if they chose to.
Her heart thumped. She doubted the thought had ever crossed his mind.
‘Did you like the boys?’
Work! She had to keep her mind on work. ‘Impossible to tell on such a brief acquaintance.’ She frowned. ‘Actually, I really liked Travis.’
The Redemption of Rico D'Angelo Page 5
