by Renée Dahlia
Zoe’s thumbs were flying over her screen as she texted someone. Her chuckles nearly undid him as she exchanged messages. He leaned in, his scalp brushing against Sam’s head, and they both shared a glance. Obviously Sam wanted to know what Zoe was saying as much as he did.
‘Joanne Andersen ran away with some guy?’ Sam asked. Kiet shrugged.
‘Mate, my friends and I don’t listen to the town gossip.’
‘Her dad didn’t say anything when you went in to do the taxes last year?’
Kiet sneered. ‘Nah, we don’t talk about anything much. I just hand over the files, and I don’t know why he even wants to meet with me. We could do it by email, mostly.’
‘Mostly?’ Zoe looked up from her phone.
‘Well, I give him the petty cash book too, and any paper invoices, that kind of stuff.’
‘Makes sense. Has there ever been anything missing when he gives it all back?’ Zoe asked.
Kiet shrugged again. ‘Wouldn’t have the foggiest. I just shove it all in a drawer. Apparently I have to keep it all for seven years.’
‘I hate to say this, but you’ve made it so easy for someone to scam you. Do you even know what invoices are getting paid each month?’ Zoe held up her hand. ‘No, don’t answer. You trust Mrs Doyle, and she does it all. Far out.’ Her previous smile was replaced by a tight disapproval.
‘That’s her job. Mine is to grow tasty oysters and get them to market nice and fresh. I don’t have time to be doing all that boring paperwork.’
Zoe shook her head slowly, and it felt like judgement. ‘Honestly? You didn’t think that maybe you should double-check what she’s been paying? Especially when you knew … you knew something was wrong.’ Zoe’s voice rose in volume. Next she’d be stabbing him in the chest with her finger, and he’d grab it and pull her close. No. What on earth was wrong with him? She was right and all he could think about was her mouth as she told him off. He felt like the living stereotype of the farmer too badly educated to run his own business. Obsessing about her perfect lips only added to the stereotype. He deserved all the censure she spat at him. Because ultimately, it circled back to one thing. She was right. He should have done the bloody paperwork. He shouldn’t have let it get to this. He ought to have done something when he’d first suspected something was wrong. He wanted to hang his head in shame. Because everything Zoe said was correct. This was his fault.
‘Are you saying it’s not Elizabeth?’ Sam whispered into the silence left after Zoe’s rant. Her shoulders dropped a fraction and her mouth twisted up.
‘I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying that whoever … air-quotes owns Lindsey Transport would be a good place to start.’ Zoe did the air-quotes with her fingers at the same time as she said it. Who says that? Kiet glanced at Sam who was trying to hold back a laugh. He sent him a silent ‘it’s not funny, except it is’ look and immediately an ice-cold lump of guilt formed in his gut. Zoe was trying to help them, and here he was laughing at her gestures like a teenager with a crush. He swallowed. Yep, that pretty much described him. Find something to laugh at, rather than admit to his response to her.
‘Now what?’
‘Now we wait. I should have an answer from my friend at ASIC in the next day or two.’ Zoe rubbed her eyes. ‘I should go to bed.’
‘I’ll take you out on the boat tomorrow.’ Kiet ignored the curious way Sam looked at him.
‘That sounds fun. Thanks.’ She pressed a few buttons on her keyboard and the screen went black, then she stood up and left.
‘You’ll take her out on the boat?’ Sam grinned.
‘What?’
Sam shoved him on the shoulder. ‘And you teased me for falling for Elizabeth. You’ve got it bad for Zoe.’ Did he know how juvenile he sounded? Kiet shushed him—in case Zoe heard—and shoved him back.
‘Lizzy might have been right when she said I need to grow up. But at least I was able to let myself fall in love. Maybe you should try it?’ Sam spoke without irony, and Kiet couldn’t help but wonder if he’d got it all wrong in blaming Elizabeth. He sucked in a shallow breath through his nostrils. No—the timing pointed to her. She’d left soon after Kiet had spoken to Sam about his worries about the money. He should have said something earlier to Sam. Chalk that up to yet another mistake he’d made in this mess. He’d let Rainbow Cove Oyster Farm get scammed for much longer than necessary because he couldn’t stomach facing the difficult conversation.
‘How can you say that? She broke your heart, and she’s not off the list of people who stole from us.’ Kiet couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
‘You can’t shut yourself off from the world forever. Yes, Nok ran away. Yes, our parents died. But that doesn’t mean you have to stop living. There is more to life than the farm.’
‘The farm is all I have left of them. If the farm fails, I’ve failed them.’
Kiet stormed out of the room with his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Didn’t his baby brother know exactly how much he sacrificed to keep the farm and keep the rest of his family together? He couldn’t fail now.
Chapter 10
Zoe put on her favourite wide-brimmed sunhat, trimmed with a yellow ribbon, as she stepped out of the cottage to walk down to the jetty. Kiet had left her a note on the table saying he’d already had breakfast and hoped she’d gotten a decent sleep. Over the past few days, she’d become used to the rhythm of the farm, with both Kiet and Sam starting as the sun rose, working out on the water while it was calm. They’d drop into the house for food around mid-morning—brunch more than breakfast—then worked in the shed doing packing or whatever until late in the afternoon. Because it was the Christmas holiday period, Zoe had yet to meet Mrs Doyle, and the mail hadn’t been delivered either. Living here while she worked out who was defrauding them had a very domestic flavour with the way they went to work and ate food together. If it wasn’t for the way Kiet carefully kept a distance from her, she’d have wondered how they’d fallen into such a household routine. Last night had been frustrating—so close to discovering what had happened with Kiet’s money. Sam’s money, too, but somehow it was Kiet she wanted to help. Or did she want to save him? She ran her tongue along her teeth. He certainly needed help with his business, but that didn’t imply she was some sort of accounting superhero swooping in to catch him as he fell. Being a saviour wasn’t her style, was it?
She stepped outside, and a light breeze off the water ruffled her dress. She loved the colourful fabric on this dress, and the way it fell to her ankles and swirled around her legs as she walked. Who didn’t love flowers? And a sundress covered in bright yellow sunflowers was a lovely bit of happiness to wear. The sun already shone brightly on this summer day, with the breeze pushing away the humidity in the air. Zoe checked her phone—29 December—she only had a few more days left until she had to go back to work. She opened her email app to see several emails from Xander that she probably should answer. Did he ever take a break? Nothing from Narelle. Surely someone at ASIC would be working between the public holidays? She sighed; maybe they wouldn’t get a response until after New Year’s Day.
She tucked her phone away in a pocket and grinned. As if this dress wasn’t perfect enough already, it had pockets. Pockets in dresses was a trend that could stay. She slid on her sandals and wandered down the driveway towards the jetty.
Kiet stood on the jetty doing boat stuff, getting the boat ready for today’s adventure. He bent over to grab a rope and his jeans stretched over his arse. Zoe shuffled her feet on the wooden jetty to let him know she was here, unable to speak. He stood up and turned to face her with his lips parted and he blinked slowly.
‘You look amazing.’
‘Thanks.’ Zoe brushed down her dress over her hips, careful not to draw attention to her plump stomach filled with another group of frolicking butterflies. She cursed her internal monologue—bloody Mum and her nit-picking nonsense—and glanced away from the intense way Kiet stared at her.
‘Here, give me your hand and I�
�ll help you into the boat.’ Kiet held out his hand and Zoe hesitated, caught between doing it herself, and using the excuse to touch him. ‘I won’t bite.’
‘What if …’ She stopped herself before she told him she might want him to … bite. With a short intake of breath, she reached out for his hand. The rough texture of his palm skimmed over her softer skin, sending a little zap up her arm. Her pulse quickened and she forgot to move.
‘Zoe.’
‘Yeah?’ Oh, the boat. She moved towards the boat and stepped from the jetty into the stainless-steel craft with her gaze firmly on her feet. The boat wobbled a little as her foot landed on the seat and Kiet’s hand tightened around hers. She clutched him for balance, grateful for the help.
‘That’s it. When you are steady, you can sit down on the towel.’
She nodded and glanced over to see a blue towel neatly folded on the steel seat. Had he put that there just for her? The thoughtful gesture warmed her skin, more than just the summer sun could. She settled herself onto the towel, tucked her dress neatly around her legs, and smiled up at Kiet. He grinned back, then released her hand to grab a rope.
‘Hold on.’ He threw the rope in a perfect arc to land on the jetty, then jumped into the boat. The boat lurched with his weight, and she grabbed the side of the boat. Kiet sat beside her, as the boat continued to roll back and forth with his movement. He reached behind them and pulled the cord to start the outboard motor. With a roar, they raced away from the jetty. Zoe grabbed her hat as the sudden rush of wind threatened to blow it off her head. After a few minutes she gave up clinging onto the hat, and tucked it between her knees, letting the quick air flow over her hair. Kiet stared out the front of the boat, watching where they were going, with one hand behind him on the engine to steer. He slowed the boat a fraction and the wind didn’t whip away her breath anymore.
‘What do you call this type of boat?’
He glanced at her, then back out to sea. ‘A tinny.’
‘Like lucky?’
He barked out a laugh, and she grinned, pleased she could make him laugh, even if she didn’t know quite why it was funny.
‘Nah. Tinny because it’s made from aluminium, like tin. Not tinny, like tin-arse lucky.’
‘Okay. Does she have a name?’ Zoe didn’t know much about boats, except they were usually feminine.
‘Not you too. Sam thinks we should name the boats.’
‘Call her Lucky Lucy, because of the tinny-tinny pun.’ Zoe’s breath caught in her throat; hopefully he wouldn’t think she was silly. He laughed again, a gentle chuckle this time, and she let out her breath. The wind whipped it away as they kept racing over the water. The slap of the front of the boat on the water sent small droplets spraying around her. Not enough to get wet, but enough to fill her nostrils with the scent of the sea, a reminder of the way Kiet smelled whenever he leaned in close.
‘Sure. Sounds good.’
‘Really? You’ll let me name your boat?’
‘Yeah, why not? It’s a good name.’ Kiet’s approval warmed her in a way she didn’t expect. She’d spent so many years trying to get her mother to approve of her, for things she couldn’t really change about herself. It wasn’t her fault she took after her father’s mother in body shape and wasn’t as naturally trim as her mother. Since she’d been eating properly over the past few years, her breasts had filled out again, and her hips were covered with round flesh. Zoe loved the way her plumper shape filled out her favourite fifties-style dresses. To get approval from anyone when she hadn’t been begging for it was … surprisingly nice. Whenever Kiet smiled, he lost the aura of surliness that usually defined him, and his approval of her body mattered more than he could possibly know because it came honestly. He didn’t bother to hide his reactions, so she knew he meant it.
‘Thank you.’ She tried her best to keep her tone polite, annoyed at the sudden welling of tears in her eyes.
‘I’ll drag the tinny up onto the jetty when we get back and you can paint the name on.’
She blinked rapidly—could she blame the salt spray from the boat if her surprised tears spilled over? It was a bit of an overreaction to cry simply because he liked her idea.
‘Hang on. What?’
‘You’ve named her. Now you get to name her properly.’
‘Are you laughing at me?’
He chuckled. ‘A little bit. Yeah, nah. You should paint her name onto her. It’ll be good.’ He cocked his head to the side slightly, and a lock of jet black hair fell over his forehead.
‘Um … okay?’ She gripped her hat tighter—better that than reach up and brush his hair back off his face. Her fingers tingled at the prospect.
‘What? Can’t you paint? I have a stencil lying around the shed somewhere.’ His grin widened, and that dimple deepened in his cheek. She pushed him on the shoulder, giving up the fight to not touch him. The jolt caused by his strong muscles and sharp collarbone under her palm made her flinch and she pulled her hand back into her lap.
‘I’m pretty sure I could manage to stencil a name onto a boat.’ Zoe tried to sound confident, even though she’d never done anything like that before. The slight hesitation probably gave her away, and she glanced at him hoping he hadn’t noticed. His brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and she could see the reflection of the sea dancing in his irises.
‘Great. And if you enjoy it, you may as well name the other two boats too.’
She grinned. ‘What if I name them something awful?’
‘Like?’
Zoe paused before answering, pretending to think of something he’d hate, while her mind blanked at the way he looked at her—as if she was important and interesting. Her pulse leaped, and her skin prickled in the very best way. If he could just stare out at the distance again, she might be able to think. This pause had gone on too long now and she cleared her throat.
‘You can’t think of anything, can you?’ He did something to the engine and the boat slowed down, drifting along in the water.
‘I can. How about Water Warrior?’
‘Nah. Boats have to be girls.’
She shoved him on the arm again. Harder. ‘Warriors can be girls. And you can take your air-quotes around girls and stick them …’
‘Oh, feisty. No air-quotes for me, and I like the idea of women warriors. Maybe paint one holding a sword beside the name.’
‘You over-estimate my ability with a paint brush.’ She could picture it now. Joan of Arc, or Boadicea, or even better, she could do some research and find a Thai warrior to add to the boat as a nod to Kiet’s heritage. But only if he wanted that—she’d already messed up with assumptions about him. She opened her mouth to ask …
‘Are you side-stepping the challenge?’ He winked and his lips quirked up at the side.
‘Never. I’ll take an art class and learn to paint just to spite you.’ Zoe wanted to cross her arms and glare at him, except he was still grinning at her and she couldn’t help but grin back.
‘That’s a lot of effort.’
She shrugged. ‘Well, if men didn’t erase our achievements, we wouldn’t need to push so hard to be seen.’
‘Fair call. It was a poor assumption from me. Did you know this farm belonged to my mother before Pa came to work for her? She was the best damned oyster farmer I’ve ever met. Always learning, always keen to teach us.’
‘You miss her.’ Zoe’s chest tightened.
‘Every day.’ He stared out at the sea. The light breeze created little ruffles on the water, nothing too rough, just enough to stop it being perfectly glassy and reflective. Zoe reached out to rub his arm but snatched her hand back before she touched him again.
‘I’m sorry.’
He shrugged one shoulder. ‘Thanks. It was a long time ago now.’
‘Grief doesn’t just stop one day. You’ll always miss them.’ For all their faults, Zoe missed her estranged parents. If they hadn’t been so awful to Jade, she’d be able to ask their advice on certain matters. The way they trea
ted Jade had coloured her childhood, and now she saw their opinions as tainted, but she still missed having them in her life. Jade’s opinion was that you could still miss them for who they were before, and at the same time be angry at them for throwing Jade out, just like a divorce—it might have all gone wrong, but at one time those people loved each other. Being estranged from her parents often felt like she imagined divorce would feel like. A good thing gone terribly wrong, and the wrongness tainted every one of her memories with questions. Was her upbringing as happy as she remembered it? Or had it only worked because she’d tried to meet their approval?
‘Yeah. Anyway, take a look over the side. You’ll be able to see the mature oysters. These ones will be harvested in the next few weeks. Soon some rich guy in the city will be wooing his girlfriend with these beauties.’
‘Are you always this cynical about love?’
‘Isn’t everyone?’
Zoe shook her head. ‘No. By your own account your parents loved each other. Don’t you want that for yourself?’ She wasn’t sure what she’d call her parents’ love. Their relationship looked like love from the outside, but the power imbalance didn’t sit right with her. It’d taken her a long time to work out her mother’s role as the supporter of her father’s image. She didn’t want to examine it too closely, but it was probably one of the reasons she’d always stayed single, hiding in work, rather than getting involved with someone who would expect her to bolster him constantly. A slash of colour flashed on Kiet’s cheeks.
‘I’ll never have what they had.’
‘Why not?’
‘Pa was so generous and giving. I’m too cynical for that.’ His attempt at brushing her off made her want to hug him. Instead, Zoe fiddled with the edge of her hat.
‘I’m jealous, you know.’
‘Jealous? Of what?’ Kiet’s black eyebrows raised up, crinkling his forehead.
