Anybody But Him (13 page)

The task of reading applications for her own job was exhausting, but her weariness was more about the fact that she couldn't seem to sleep through the night any more. She woke in the early hours every morning, and couldn't drop off again. She lay there thinking about all the mistakes she'd made. About some more than others.

She hurt all over too. Her eyes were scratchy, even her eyelids were heavier than normal. Her muscles were sore, her bones tender somehow. She hadn't told anyone how she felt, of course. There was really nothing to tell. How could anyone else understand that she couldn't imagine ever being happy again? They'd say she was being absurd, especially as she'd never even had a relationship with the man in question. They'd think she was crazy to feel as if she'd lost something she had no idea how to find again. And rightly so.

She was mid-yawn when Corinne entered the office. ‘I'm so sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me today,' she said with an apologetic smile.

Corinne smiled back. ‘Is this job boring you to death?'

‘The job in general? Not at all. But I'm over all this reading. What can I do for you?'

‘I just wanted to let you know again how grateful I am that you picked up what Hayden was doing. He's confessed everything, by the way.'

‘He couldn't very well argue with the evidence, could he? And you don't need to feel grateful, I was only doing my job. In fact, I should have cottoned on sooner. I could kick myself that I didn't.'

‘Hey, your predecessor didn't spot a thing.'

‘He might have done if he'd let Travis take more responsibility for the reports. Travis worked out that something was wrong with the figures and between us we put the picture together.'

Corinne nodded. ‘He seems much happier under your management. Look, I know you'll probably laugh at the suggestion, but if there was any chance of you staying longer in Redgum Valley, I'd be only too happy to make your position permanent.'

Nicola shook her head. ‘I won't be staying.'

‘No, I didn't think so,' Corinne said as she rose, ‘but I wanted to put that offer on the table just in case, and to say thank you.' She smiled. ‘You'll be missed around here.'

There was no point in telling Corinne that the thought of picking up her old life filled her with dread, that the idea of starting a new job in a large impersonal office in the city held no appeal for her now. If it were at all possible, she'd love to continue working at Birchmoors with people she'd grown to care about, but it wasn't going to happen.

Two weeks later, Nicola paid for Lainey's wine and her beer and picked up the two full glasses. Who knew how long it would be before they'd share a Friday night drink at The Pelican again? And she was going to miss it like crazy. She'd be back in Sydney in a matter of days and her visits to Redgum Valley would be squeezed into a tight schedule between other, more important commitments.

Those commitments wouldn't include boyfriends, though. Damn Blair! It was as if he'd cast a spell on her, rendering her incapable of being a normal, healthy woman around men.
He'd doomed her to look at every man from now on and think that he was unsuitable for her for no good reason, no reason other than he wasn't Blair.

Turning as she left the bar, she collided with a woman, and to her horror, beer sloshed out of the glass in her left hand, straight down the front of the woman's dress.

‘Oh, my God! I'm so sorry.' Hurriedly, she put the glasses back on the bar, and fished in her bag for a handful of tissues. ‘Here, use these,' she said, thrusting the tissues into the other woman's hand.

As the woman mopped at the front of her dress, Nicola watched, giving her a surreptitious once-over. She had style. A little bit rock, a little bit boho. Her white cotton dress clearly came from the expensive end of town – of Sydney, that was, not Redgum Valley – and her hair was the gleaming black of shampoo commercials.

‘Sorry,' she said again when the woman stopped rubbing and looked down at the damage. ‘It's ruined, isn't it?'

The woman shrugged. ‘Hey, don't worry about it. It gives me an excuse to go shopping again, and I don't think my date will dump me because I smell of beer.'

‘Not if he's a typical man, anyway. He'll probably think it's a great new perfume. But it does look … bad.'

‘Does it?'

Nicola bit her lip, then unwound her red and black polka-dot scarf, her absolute favourite, and said, ‘Here, you could wear this. It's long enough to cover the stain.'

The woman hesitated, glanced from the scarf to Nicola's face and back again. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Yes, truly. I feel really guilty. It wouldn't be so bad at the end of the night, but your evening's only just starting. And it's not as if you're local and can just pop home and change. At least, I don't think you are?'

The woman shook her head.

And Nicola knew how embarrassed
she'd
feel about being on a date with a massive beer stain down the front of her dress.

The woman smiled and took the scarf from her. ‘Thanks. I'm Opal, by the way.'

‘No need to thank me, it's my fault that you need it. And my name's Nicola.'

‘So, you're local, are you?' Opal tied the scarf around her neck. Stylishly. It looked heaps better than it had on her, Nicola mused. ‘How can I get this back to you?'

‘Don't worry about that. Keep it. It's the least I can do.'

‘But it's a Marc Jacobs, isn't it?'

‘Wow, that's impressive.' Nicola stared. ‘How can you tell?'

Opal grinned. ‘I know my designers. I'm a fashion writer. It's my job.'

‘
Oh
. I see.'

‘Plus, it still has the label on. Here.' She held up the edge of the silk scarf where the white label was obvious.

‘Ah. I never know whether you're supposed to take those off.'

‘I do. Spoils the look.'

‘Yes, I suppose so. But it has the washing instructions on it, and without them, I'm lost.'

Opal shrugged. ‘I'd rather risk ruining it in the wash than go out looking like I'm trying to flaunt the fact that I can afford a designer label.' She made quote marks in the air as she said
designer label
.

‘Oh, God, do you think that was what I was doing?' Nicola was aghast.

Grinning again, Opal said. ‘No. I didn't mean you. But honestly, some people do that deliberately, and it irks me. And what riles me even more is when people buy a cashmere coat and leave the label on the sleeve that says
cashmere
. Like they need reminding. Do they
forget what their coat's made from? Or are they saying to everybody else,
Hey, look at me, I'm wearing cashmere
?'

‘I've never thought about it.' She'd notice in future, though. And she'd absolutely definitely remove any labels from her clothes. ‘So, what are you doing in Redgum Valley? I think Mrs Wilson might have been wearing a new apron when I saw her the other day, but apart from that, it's a fashion-free zone.'

‘This weekend's purely recreational. Anyway, I insist on returning your scarf, so if you can give me an address, I'll post it to you.'

‘I'll get it back to her.'

Nicola spun around at the sound of Blair's voice.

‘
There
you are,' Opal said. ‘I was going to buy the drinks before you got here, but I got distracted, talking clothes.'

‘What's new about that?' He smiled at Opal, then his face straightened as he looked at Nicola. ‘How are you going?'

‘Good,' she said quickly. ‘Really, really good.'

‘That's good.'

‘It's all good, then,' Opal said. ‘I take it you two know each other.'

‘Yes.' Nicola wasn't sure whether she could say they were friends any more. Probably not, but Blair didn't bother to elaborate either, she noticed. He was more interested in looking at Opal, and who could blame him? She was gorgeous, and Nicola could totally understand his fascination, even if it nearly killed her to witness it.

‘Why don't we sit together, then?' Opal glanced at the two glasses on the bar. ‘Who are you here with?'

‘Er …' Nicola glanced at Blair and knew that he'd much rather be alone with Opal. And it wasn't as if she'd enjoy watching the two of them together. ‘My friend, but she'd prefer
us to sit on our own.'

‘Oh.' Opal looked taken aback at the answer. ‘That's a shame. But maybe some other time? I'm sure we'll be popping in here every now and then, won't we?' She glanced at Blair for confirmation.

Nicola avoided Blair's response by turning to retrieve the neglected drinks. She smiled at Opal, nodded vaguely in Blair's direction, and went off to find Lainey, weaving her way between tables till she reached her.

‘Sorry I took so long with the drinks. I was talking to someone.'

‘Weren't you wearing a scarf when you went to get the drinks?'

She told Lainey about Opal and the incident at the bar.

‘Gosh. And she's with Blair? Lucky him.'

Nicola managed a half-smile. Opal was the lucky one, she wanted to say, but instead she looked away, and caught sight of Blair and Opal heading for the door, his hand resting in the small of her back. She knew how that felt. Her mouth dried at the memory. She would never react to another man's touch in the same way. The spark just wouldn't be there with anyone else. It never had been, and never would be.

Nicola tossed another twig into the river from what had become her spot on the bank in the last couple of weeks. She'd sat here so many times, she felt a claim to it. There was something meditative about breaking up the fallen redgum twigs from around her feet and watching the pieces float downstream. Maybe she was hoping that her grief would float away with the twigs. Maybe it was an echo from her childhood. Was she subconsciously searching for the happiness she'd known back then? Because that was, she'd decided, the last time she'd been truly happy– before she'd become a teenager and hormones had messed up everything.

Or, maybe she simply liked throwing twigs into the river. She sighed. There didn't have to be a deep reason behind everything, did there? She liked the river, she always had. This was her last Saturday here and she'd miss this place between two red gums, where fallen leaves lay so thick on the ground it was like walking through a bowl of cornflakes.

She was going to miss her friends too. Last night Lainey had confirmed that she'd told Daniel to take a hike, and she and Travis were now an item, although they'd agreed to take things slowly. Nicola had been relieved to hear it. Lainey and Travis would be perfect
together. But the contrast between the future she foresaw for Lainey and Travis and the isolation she was about to return to was stark. She'd never felt more alone. A lump formed in her throat and she didn't even try to swallow it. So she envied her friends finding happiness – it didn't make her a bad person, did it? Just a lonely one.

The crack of a twig alerted her to the arrival of another person, and she swung around, ready to give the intruder a look that said that there was plenty of river bank to choose from and they'd be wise to move on. She wasn't prepared for the sight of Blair strolling towards her.

He sat down beside her, and at the same time handed her a fishing rod.

‘What the—' She took the rod from him, studying it curiously. ‘Is this …?'

‘Your old rod, yes. Your father gave it to me. And this is his.' He gestured at the rod he'd laid on the ground beside him before delving into an old canvas bag that brought back a flood of memories.

‘Why would he do that?'

‘Here.' He plonked a plastic box of wriggling gents between them. ‘Help yourself.'

She struggled for a moment to keep her stomach contents in place. She'd had no trouble baiting her hook as a child, but as an adult she'd developed finer sensibilities. Or rather, she now knew that gents were maggots, pure and simple.
Eww
. Back then, her dad had fooled her into believed they were something quite different.

Blair flipped the lid off the box. ‘There's plenty for both of us.'

‘I can see that. How long are you expecting to be here?'

‘Well, that depends.'

‘On what?'

‘Several things. For one, on how well the fish are biting.' He'd finished baiting his hook. He stood and cast his line out into the middle of the river.

As she watched him reel it in and cast it out again into a better location, her stomach did a series of flips. She gazed at his bicep as it worked the rod, at his black curls, at his broad shoulders, soaking it all in.

She cleared her throat. ‘And what else does it depend on?'

‘Whether you'll allow me to stay.'

‘Why wouldn't I?'

‘I think I just had a nibble.' He flicked her a sidelong glance. ‘Yep. Got one.'

He jerked the rod back and wound the reel. She jumped to her feet, jiggling excitedly as he brought the fish to land.

‘One to me,' he said as he removed the hook and laid the fish gently across his hands in the edge of the water, waiting for it kick up and swim away. ‘Didn't take you long to fall behind.'

‘Huh.' She grabbed her rod, baited her hook and cast the line.

He smiled across at her. ‘Nicely done.'

‘I haven't forgotten how.'

‘No, your dad said you wouldn't have forgotten.'

‘Did he?' She frowned. ‘Why were you talking to my dad?'

‘Sorry, can't tell you. Men's business.'

She snorted. ‘Well, what were you even doing at their house?'

‘Looking for you.'

She waited for him to explain, but he calmly cast his line and squinted at the surface of the water.

‘And now you've found me, so what did you want?'

He drew in a long, slow breath, but before he'd said a word, she felt a slight tug on her line.

‘Ooh.' She jerked the rod. ‘I think I got him.'

‘Good one.'

‘We're even.' She reeled in the fish, unhooked it and released it back into the river. ‘How's Opal?'

After a brief hesitation, he said, ‘Last time I saw her, she was fine. That was before we broke up.'

Her heart leapt as she straightened. ‘Who did the breaking up?'

‘Me. Did you find your scarf by the way?'

‘In the box of vegetables, yes. It had bits of onion skin stuck to it. But why did you break up with her? She was lovely.'

‘She was, wasn't she?' He shrugged. ‘Dammit didn't like her, though.'

‘Oh.' She tried not to smirk because Dammit liked
her
. ‘Do you usually consult with your dog before making major life decisions?'

‘Of course. But it wasn't the only reason. I couldn't imagine Opal putting gents on a hook.'

She glanced at him, unsure whether that was a dig at her. She concentrated on repositioning her line, aiming for an area that looked likely. She shot him a glance. ‘You haven't said why you were looking for me. What did you want to say?'

He watched her reel in another fish. ‘You're amazing.'

‘What? I've only caught two fish. Give me a break.' She shook her head at him.

‘No, not because you've caught two fish.' He paused. ‘That's what I came to say– that I think you're amazing.'

She looked up at him while the fish swam out of her hands. Was this a trick? Was he waiting for her to say something lame like she thought he was amazing too, so he could laugh at her? Hadn't they got past that sort of thing?

‘I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for weeks.'

‘Why?'

‘Because you're argumentative, and bolshie and tetchy.'

‘I'm flattered.'

‘You give me a hard time, but you're also funny, and clever. And dead sexy.'

‘Are you serious?'

He nodded. ‘You got into my head, starting painting the walls and moving the furniture around.'

She frowned, uncertain whether that was a good thing.

‘You're the reason I broke up with Opal.'

‘Because I spilled beer on her dress?'

He shook his head. ‘No, you idiot. I didn't really want to date her in the first place. I only asked her out because I was mad at you.'

Nicola realised she was holding her breath. ‘You know I'm leaving on Monday?'

‘Yes.' He grimaced. ‘That's why I'm here now. I didn't want to miss my last chance to tell you.'

‘To tell me what?'

‘That you're the most difficult woman in the world. But I still think you're amazing. I didn't want you to leave not knowing.'

She stepped over her rod and stood in front of him. She stretched up, placed a kiss on his lips, and felt them tremble. ‘You really like me?'

‘God, yes.' He dropped her dad's fishing rod, and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close, so close she could feel his heart beating in his chest. ‘I more than like you, I'm in love with you, and I've dreamed about kissing you since we were kids.'

She gasped. ‘Then stop talking and do it.'

He did. For a very long time. And it was exactly how it had been in
her
dreams.

When she came up for air, she said, ‘I'm not bolshie.'

‘O–kay. I suppose you're not accident prone either?'

‘I'm
not
.'

‘So, I guess I'm going to have to move to Sydney?'

She stepped back and looked him straight in the eye. ‘You'd move there for me?'

‘If it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.'

Nicola felt her throat thickening. ‘You want to—' she swallowed ‘spend the rest of your life with me?'

‘If that's all right with you?'

Her knees wobbled. ‘Yes. Yes, that's all right. See? I'm not argumentative.'

He pulled her in close again.

‘There's a problem, though.'

‘What?' He leaned back to look at her.

‘I don't think Dammit would like living in the city. He wouldn't be able to run free the way he does here.'

‘I talked to him about it. He said he'd make the sacrifice. Only for you, though.'

‘Did he? But I think I'd rather live here.'

‘You're kidding? You hate it here.'

‘No, actually, I don't. Not anymore.'