Blackpeak Station (13 page)

Jeez — when you put it like that … She exchanged a glance with Nick. His said,
told you so.

‘Dinner at eight okay with you?’ said Luke. ‘Why don’t I pick you up?’

‘No,’ said Nick, before Charlotte could reply. ‘We’ll meet you there.’

There was a moment’s silence.

‘Right — you know the Wagyu?’

‘Sure.’

‘Do you really know it?’ Charlotte asked, surprised, as they walked back to the car park.

Nick shrugged. ‘I’ll look it up when we get home.’

‘You don’t like him, do you?’

‘Who, Crompton?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘No, Luke.’

‘I don’t like either of them much, to be honest.’

Charlotte was silent. She wasn’t sure she did either — so why couldn’t she stop thinking about Luke? That look he got in his eyes, the one that dared her to take him on. She’d had a horse like that once. She never had managed to break him.

‘So, are we going to tell Mum?’ Nick asked, as they climbed into the truck.

Yikes. How much was their mother going to freak? ‘How about we wait for a bit — you know, till we’ve actually got a deal.’

‘Okay.’ There was a smile in Nick’s voice. ‘You know, she might surprise you. She was really good when I told her about me going to work for the Sammartinos.’

Of course she was, thought Charlotte sourly. You’re her golden-haired boy. And she can understand people
not
wanting to stay at Blackpeak.

‘What are we going to tell her we’re doing tomorrow, then?’ he asked, when the silence had lasted a couple of blocks.

‘Going out with a couple of friends?’ She shrugged. ‘They’d better be yours — she won’t believe I’ve got one.’

Nick sighed. ‘I suppose you want to go and look at tractors now, do you?’

Charlotte smiled. ‘Always.’

After a busy day battling the Show Day crowds, Charlotte and Nick got to the Wagyu Café fifteen minutes late the following evening. They’d had to park three streets away, and the new high heels her mother had made her buy to go with her Cup Day dress weren’t designed to cover that sort of distance. In fact, she really had to concentrate to walk in them at all.

The restaurant was packed and noisy. As the waiter showed them to their table, she could feel the other diners staring at her — was it that obvious she was struggling with her shoes? Was her face bright red from the walk? She fought the urge to tug down her old shift dress.

She could see Luke already seated up ahead, and to her horror, he seemed to be staring at her shoes, too. It took a moment for him to look up and recognise her. As she arrived, he got up hurriedly.

‘You look stunning.’

‘You look stunned,’ she heard Nick mutter under his breath, behind her.

‘Michael’s on his way,’ Luke explained, as they took their seats. He leaned in towards her. ‘Can I order you a drink? A cocktail to start? They do a great mojito here.’

A drink — God, yes. What had he called it? ‘That sounds good.’

‘Excellent.’ He smiled into her eyes. He didn’t look quite as innocent as he had at the office — in fact, he was downright … ‘Nick? How about you?’

‘Who, me?’ said Nick. Charlotte nudged at him with a tortured foot, and he raised his voice. ‘I’ll take a glass of red.’

‘Hi, sorry I’m late.’

‘Michael!’ Luke’s eyes left Charlotte’s at last. ‘Can I pour you a glass of pinot? I ordered the Craggy Range.’

‘You know me too well.’ Ignoring the waiter, Crompton
pulled out his own chair. ‘Nick, Charlotte, good to see you again.’

‘You too,’ she lied absentmindedly, wavering like a pin just released from a magnet. Her cocktail arrived, and she took a long drink, making an effort to pull herself together. Was Michael Crompton staring at her breasts? Surely not.

‘So,’ he said, looking up and into her face. ‘Since I’m investing in this station of yours, I guess I’d better come and see it.’

Charlotte flinched. ‘Sure,’ she managed. ‘Whenever you like. Just let us know.’

To her horror, Crompton began checking his
smartphone
. ‘I’m tied up in Auckland all next week. Then I’m in Wellington … I could make it the week after that, maybe — oh, no — I’m in Sydney.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll get my PA to sort something out.’

‘You should take Erica and the kids down,’ Luke threw in. ‘Have a break — they’d love it.’

‘Good idea. About time they saw a sheep.’

‘You have kids?’ Charlotte tried to sound enthused. ‘How lovely.’

‘Yeah, two.’ Crompton’s face softened. ‘Bella’s the eldest, she’s just turned eight. And Jack will be …’ He counted on his fingers. ‘Five, this year.’ Tapping at his phone, he thrust a picture in Charlotte’s face.

‘How is Erica, anyway?’ Luke asked. ‘Is she in town with you?’

‘Fine. She’s flying in tomorrow — been over in Melbourne shopping with the girls.’

Perfect, Charlotte thought, finishing her cocktail. Now I’m entertaining Crompton, two snotty brats and a woman who goes to Australia to shop. What have I got myself into?

‘Will we see very much of you at Blackpeak, do you
think? It sounds like you’re pretty busy.’

Crompton laughed. ‘You mean am I going to be down every second weekend sticking my nose in? No, you’re quite right, I don’t have the time — or the inclination.’

Her cheeks flushed. ‘I didn’t mean it like that—’

‘Yes you did.’ He looked like he was enjoying her discomfort. ‘It’s all right, you needn’t worry. I don’t give a crap how you run your farm, so long as you make me a good return — do that, and I won’t interfere.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, hoping she sounded less frightened than she felt. ‘I’ll certainly be doing my best.’

‘Let’s hope that’s good enough.’ He nodded to her. ‘Excuse me.’

As they watched Crompton walk off to the men’s room, Nick let out a long breath. ‘Nice one, Charles. Have another mojito, why don’t you?’

Charlotte picked at her napkin. ‘I really didn’t mean it that way.’

Luke came to her rescue. ‘Don’t worry about it. Michael likes straight-talking — it’s kind of his thing. And at least now you know where you stand with him.’

‘Yeah.’ She grimaced. ‘On shaky ground.’

‘Hey.’ Luke’s hand slid over her knee. ‘You’re doing fine — trust me.’

‘Do you think I should apologise?’

‘No need,’ said Crompton, behind her. ‘You asked, and I answered, that’s all. Nothing to it.’

‘More wine, anyone?’ Luke sounded amused. He topped up Crompton’s glass and, before she could stop him, poured Charlotte one too.

She shut her eyes briefly, wishing she could go home.

‘How long did you say it took to get to Blackpeak?’ Crompton was asking.

Too long, she thought grimly. ‘About five hours or so in a car. The access road can get a bit rough.’

‘You had flooding down there not long ago, didn’t you?’

‘Yeah, a bit.’ Be more forthcoming, she told herself. ‘We usually do, in spring.’

The waiter turned up to take their order. God, the evening was just getting started — she wouldn’t be able to get out of here for hours yet. She took another gulp of wine. She felt like she was drinking a lot, but somehow her glass remained full. Was it her imagination or was Luke sitting closer to her? She tried to concentrate on what Crompton was saying.

Having stamped his authority over the table, he seemed in an expansive mood. Luke was leading him into stories about himself and, thankfully, Nick was now fielding questions, leaving her to eat her entrée and wonder if Luke knew his leg was touching hers. If he did, it didn’t show on his face.

‘Well,’ said Nick, an eternity later, when the coffees had been drunk. ‘I think we’d better call it a night. Shall we ask for the bill?’

‘It’s on me.’ Crompton’s voice brooked no argument.

Luke looked a bit irritated, Charlotte thought, daring a glance at his face. As he looked across the table at Nick, his hand slid possessively over her thigh.

‘After you, Charles.’ Nick held out an arm towards the door. With some difficulty, she got up, and let him sweep her out of the restaurant and harm’s way, his hand under her elbow.

Charlotte woke up the next morning and wished she hadn’t. She groped blearily for her watch. Eight-thirty. How could she have slept so late? Across the room, Nick was snoring gently.

She groaned as last night replayed itself in her head — God, in a couple of hours she’d have to face Luke and Crompton again in the bloody VIP tent. She threw back the duvet and stood up, then sat down again hastily. Her brain seemed to have been left behind on the pillow. She waited for it to catch up with her head.

Nick sat up. ‘What time is it?’ He peered at her. ‘You look awful.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Any time.’ He stretched, and climbed out of bed with disgusting ease.

Charlotte closed her eyes. ‘I don’t think I’m going to make it.’

‘Come on,’ Nick took her arm, hoisting her to her feet. ‘A couple of ibuprofen and a Virgin Mary and you’ll be good as new.’

‘I don’t like tomato juice.’

‘Today you do.’

‘Dearie me,’ her mother observed, when Charlotte crept downstairs in her Sammartino tuxedo dress an hour later. Andrea rummaged in her handbag. ‘You’d better borrow these.’

It was from behind Andrea’s enormous designer shades that Charlotte got her first glimpse of Riccarton Racecourse and the huge marquee, flags flapping wildly in the nor’west wind. She was feeling much better. The tomato juice Nick had forced her to drink was settling her stomach, and the ibuprofen was beginning to kick in.

Overhead, the sun was already fierce. Across the car park, the public stands shimmered, packed with people. Charlotte flinched as a toddler wielding a tomato-sauce-smothered hotdog like a lethal weapon was hurried by.

Taking her arm, Nick steered her towards the VIP tent. It was cool inside. Everywhere, long, spray-tanned women in fascinators and spiked heels were sipping champagne and talking loudly, standing out from the mass of
dark-suited
men like jungle flowers. Charlotte scanned the sea of faces. Luke was nowhere to be seen.

Hijacking a passing waitress, Nick pressed a glass of champagne into her hand. She looked at it, and him, dubiously.

‘Go on — it’ll make you feel better.’

Beside her, Rex hooked a thumb under his tie, working it loose, and stared around him. He didn’t look pleased with what he saw.

‘Well,’ he said hopefully. ‘Think I’ll just pop off for a look around.’

‘Rex!’ But he was already gone. Kath sighed and shook her head at Charlotte.

Andrea waved to a stick-thin redhead across the tent. ‘There’s Diana — come on, Kath, I’ll introduce you.’

Nick raised his eyebrows at Charlotte. ‘Ready?’

‘For Christ’s sake don’t leave me,’ she said, taking a deep breath as they launched themselves into the crowd.

Her path was blocked by a petite blonde. ‘Love your outfit!’ she exclaimed loudly, looking Charlotte up and down as if trying to decide if she were anyone who mattered.

‘Thanks.’ Nick nudged her. ‘It’s Fratelli Sammartino,’ she added.

‘Oh.’ The woman’s brow furrowed. ‘I don’t think I know him — is he local?’

‘Italian.’

‘Oh, of course.’ Spotting someone more interesting over Charlotte’s shoulder, she moved off.

‘What a stunning dress,’ said another voice.

‘It’s Fratelli Sammartino,’ Charlotte said automatically, and turned to find herself looking straight into Luke’s laughing green eyes.

‘Of course — what else would it be?’ he said dryly. ‘It certainly suits you.’

Charlotte blushed. Luke’s gaze roamed lazily over her dress. ‘Just the one button, huh? How … elegant.’ She felt a moment’s panic as his hand extended towards it, but his fingers gave the button only the slightest graze before settling at her elbow. ‘Charlotte, this is a friend of mine, Susannah.’ For the first time, Charlotte became aware of the woman standing beside Luke.

‘Hello.’ Susannah’s voice failed to conceal her lack of interest.

‘Hello.’ Why did she look so familiar? Oh God — it was the
Vogue
blonde he’d brought to her father’s funeral.

Susannah’s condescending blue eyes looked back at her. ‘And what do you do, Charlotte?’ Her perfect smile was no larger than necessary.

‘I manage a station in the Mackenzie Country.’ Charlotte returned the smile with no greater warmth.

Susannah’s eyebrows rose. ‘You work for the railways?’

‘A high country station.’

‘Oh, I see!’ Susannah laughed carefully. ‘You’re a farmer. How … interesting.’

Charlotte took a deep breath and began counting to ten.

‘Where’s Nick?’ asked Luke.

Charlotte looked round. ‘He was here a minute ago.’

Susannah leaned over to remove a long blonde hair from Luke’s exquisite lapel, putting her shoulder neatly between them.

‘Isn’t that Tamsin over there?’ Luke nodded towards yet another blonde.

‘Oh, so it is!’ Waving, Susannah mouthed an exaggerated ‘hi’. ‘Must just go and have a word.’ She disappeared into the throng.

‘You,’ Luke said softly, removing Charlotte’s sunglasses, ‘promised to have dinner with me. Alone. What about tonight?’

‘What about Susannah?’ she returned coldly.

Luke laughed. ‘Oh, don’t worry about her.’ He studied Charlotte’s face. ‘Seriously. Suzy’s just a friend — her father’s Trevor Liddell, one of the senior partners.’

‘Really? You sure his name isn’t Mattel?’

Luke laughed again. He reached out a hand, fingering her satin lapel as if judging the fabric, and then looked suddenly into her eyes. ‘Are you jealous?’ he taunted.

Willing herself to stay upright, Charlotte stared back at him — defiantly, she hoped. ‘Of course not. Why would I be?’

‘Why indeed?’ He dropped his hand to her waist, stroking his thumb over the tuxedo button. ‘You know, this really is beautiful tailoring.’ He hooked a finger inside the lapel. ‘Is it silk-lined?’

‘Charles — there you are!’ Nick’s voice made her jump. She turned, running her hands over her dress just to check it was still there.

‘I found Luke,’ she explained.

‘So I see.’

‘I was just trying to talk Charlotte into having dinner with me,’ Luke said smoothly.