Cracking the Dating Code (13 page)

Lena sighed. Trig said nothing.

‘This is where you say, “No, you won’t, Pop,”‘ said Poppy helpfully.

‘No offence, Pop,’ offered Trig, ‘but I’ve watched you turn into wallpaper in the company of strangers for close to thirty years now. Just tell him you’d rather meet them one on one, maybe a year apart.’

‘I don’t think it’s going to work that way, Trig,’ said Lena, fine frown lines forming between her eyes. ‘Poppy says his company started out as an offshore rig troubleshooting crew. They’re tight. Almost an assault team. Total trust. He’s not going to be able to back off from them in order to accommodate Poppy’s neuroses. He needs her to be able to cope with them and the work they do. I’m betting he’s had women turn tail and
run
once they’re exposed to his world.’ Lena turned to Poppy. ‘You can stay a little bit reserved. You always do. But you’re going to have to cope.’

‘I know.’ Poppy looked past the pool, past the garden to the beach and ocean beyond. Sink or swim. ‘It’s a test.’

Poppy dithered for an afternoon, stared at the airline company’s website for far too long,
and then finally pressed the confirm button on a flight to Darwin and then another flight from Darwin to London via Singapore. The following day she found herself in Darwin. Stinking hot and still only nine in the morning, but the views over the red channel country of Northern Australia had been spectacular, and she’d have travelled a lot further to feel the utter contentment she’d felt when Seb had wrapped his arms around her at the airport and just stood there.

‘I fly on to London tomorrow,’ she murmured when finally he let her go. ‘I need to get back.’

‘I’ll get you back here in time to catch that flight,’ he told her. ‘I’m not asking you to neglect your work in my favour. Much. I just need you to know what you’re getting into. With me. Before we get in too deep.’

Poppy could have told him it was already too late, that she was already in too deep, but she held her tongue as they walked through the car park and he handed her into a Land Cruiser and drove her to his apartment.

Nice place. Lock on the door for which the man had keys. He liked comfort and had the money to make it happen, but she’d known all that from her stay on the island. No surprises for Poppy there. ‘My Oxford flat’s a lot
smaller,’ she said as he showed her around. ‘Just so you know.’

‘Smaller can be better,’ he murmured. ‘Sometimes.’ Not something he had to worry about, though, and his smile said he knew it. ‘You want the bedroom tour next or the workplace one?’

‘Is that really a question?

Apparently it wasn’t. They did the bedroom tour first and only after they were sated did Sebastian sit up with a groan, scrub at his face and say he had to go to work and did she want to come and see it and then maybe head off and do some solo sightseeing while he put in a few hours’ work. Or she could stay here and suit herself. Or borrow his car and go where she would. No pressure, but he had to put in an appearance at work.

So she went with him to work and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Seb was pleased by her decision.

Step one: commit to taking a tour through his world. Step one had been accomplished. Step two: impress the people who inhabited Seb’s world, and if she couldn’t quite manage that, she’d settle for having them not think she was a freak. Lena had given her a whole list of platitudes and Poppy ran through every one of them in her head as she and Seb
walked towards a low-set cream-coloured building that backed onto a marina.

‘More boats,’ she murmured. Just what she needed.

‘Get you where you’re going, though, don’t they?’ he countered with a wry grin.

‘Just for the record, this visit to your world doesn’t involve a trip to an offshore oil rig, does it? Because while Trig may have expressed delight at the notion, I, on the other hand, am quite happy to look at some pictures, fire up the imagination and take it from there.’

‘Ladies’ choice,’ he said, and pushed open the heavy glass door and ushered her inside.

Sebco’s Darwin base had a wickedly expensive-looking conference room as its showpiece. The conference room was empty. Poppy liked it at once. Alas, the workplace tour got a whole lot more complicated after that. Admin areas, monitoring areas, planning and design areas, Wendy’s area.

Wendy of telephone fame. The one who’d got a whole lot friendlier once Poppy had mentioned that she was a friend of Seb’s
brother.
Using Wendy’s phone voice and manner as her reference point, Poppy had imagined the woman as some kind of cross
between Mae West and Margaret Thatcher, and she wasn’t far wrong.

Wendy was gimlet of eye, grey of hair and gave off the unmistakeable vibe of a woman who didn’t take orders from anyone.

‘Hello, Poppet,’ said Wendy.

‘Poppy,’ said Poppy. ‘Or Ophelia.’ Wendy’s eyebrows went up. ‘West.’

‘The one from the island?’ said Wendy. ‘Tom’s friend?’ But this time, Wendy did not grow more friendly by the moment. ‘How’d you get Seb to give you the tour?’

‘I, ah, don’t know,’ said Poppy. Had Sebastian not told them she was his…whatever she was? Obviously not. ‘He just offered.’

‘Yeah, well, he usually knows better.’ Wendy fixed Seb with a glacial glare. ‘You have a meeting with Roan Corp at 2:00 p.m. There’s a report on your desk and unless you want to get screwed over, well and good, I suggest you get your head back in the game and read it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘The Roan Corp meeting’s off unless they agree to the list of contract amendments I sent through to them this morning before you got to work. If they want more time, give them two days. If they can’t get back to us by then, blow them off.’

‘Oh,’ said Wendy. ‘My pleasure. Joel’s in,
and he wants to see you. He’s going over the Carter rig’s maintenance schedules again.’

‘Why?’

‘No idea. No one tells me anything around here. It’s enough to make a woman quit. But I suggest you get in there and ask the man what his problem is fairly soon, because if you don’t he’s going to blow. You’re not the only one who took Cam’s death hard.’

‘You sound busy,’ said Poppy to Seb. ‘There’s no need to give me the tour. I can just go.’

‘Car keys,’ said Seb and handed them to Poppy. ‘House keys as well. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, leave without me. I’ll meet you back at home.’

Seb left. Poppy stayed. Wendy stared.

‘Is the Carter rig the one the accident took place on?’ asked Poppy.

‘Know about that, do you?’

Poppy didn’t know how to answer that one, so she said nothing. Had Seb spoken to her in confidence about it? Were people supposed to know anything about it? Poppy didn’t know. She didn’t know what to do with Seb’s car keys either.

‘Tom around?’ asked Wendy.

‘Tom’s in London.’

‘But he was with you on the island.’

‘No. Tom’s a work colleague,’ offered Poppy. ‘I just borrowed the island for a bit. He and I aren’t close in the way you might be thinking.’

‘And you and Seb?’

‘Met last week.’ What was she supposed to say? That she’d met and fallen in love with him within a week? That she was now his girlfriend? Seb wasn’t here to guide her and he certainly hadn’t told Wendy anything about her so Poppy erred on the side of caution. ‘He’s a good host.’

Wendy looked at Seb’s keys and her lips narrowed.

‘Does Seb have an office I could wait in?’ asked Poppy. ‘I don’t want to interrupt you.’

‘Second door on the right. Make yourself at home.’

Poppy found Seb’s office, shut the door behind her with a gentle click and closed her eyes. So Wendy wasn’t shaping up to be a big Poppy fan. Nothing to worry about. She headed for the visitors’ chair at Seb’s desk and sank into it. Paperwork covered most of the table. Some sort of data printout, by the looks of it.

She tried ignoring it. She tried estimating the area of the wall, based on the number of concrete bricks. But the data just kept calling
to her and eventually she turned it round and took a look. Hydrostatic pressure. Drill rates. Flow rates. Pipe weights. Times.

Interesting.

At some point she must’ve picked up a pencil.

Because that was how Seb found her. Knee deep in data and running averages in her head.

‘Hi,’ she said.

‘Joel Grainger, meet Poppy West,’ said Seb, his gaze sliding from her to the data stream and back. ‘Poppy works with my brother.’

‘The mad genius?’ said Joel.

‘She’s his boss.’

‘She’s nosey,’ said Joel.

‘I was just passing the time.’ Poppy looked to Seb. ‘I really should go. You’re busy.’ He hadn’t introduced her as his girlfriend. Why hadn’t he introduced her as his girlfriend? Was it implied? Was she supposed to do something non-verbal like kiss him on the cheek on the way out the door? She didn’t know. She never knew these things.

‘Let me show you round first, then you can go,’ said Seb. ‘No point dragging you here for nothing. Ten minutes.’

Partner Joel scowled but Seb was unruffled. So it was meet the rest of the admin
staff—three women and two men. Smile. And then meet the engineers—only three of them in the complex this morning. Smile. While Poppy’s palms grew damper and her face began to freeze.

This place was jam-packed with vibrant, squabbling people and Poppy was not one of them. Warm smiles turned cooler at the stiffness of her responses. Seb’s gaze turned sharper and he rubbed at her back as if to warm her up.

‘Need some coffee?’ he asked finally, because it had become blatantly obvious that she sure as hell needed something to get her through this meet and greet.

‘And a bathroom. Please.’

A short time later Poppy stood in the three-cubicle ladies’ room staring at the watchful, blue-eyed woman in the mirror. So far not good, but there was still time to relax and mingle and make a good impression.

She went into the centre stall and shut the door and put the lid down and then sat down and closed her eyes.
Ask someone a question about themselves or their work. Pick a friendly face and flirt. Well… not flirt, exactly, but open up and be responsive.

Fight her innate fear of being labelled outcast,
because outcast was what she’d be if she couldn’t change her ways.

Time to go, but then the outer ladies’ room door creaked and Poppy heard footsteps and chatter.

About her.

‘Hasn’t got much to say, has she?’ said one voice. ‘Wonder what Seb sees in her?’

‘Pretty face,’ said another voice.

‘Yeah, but boring clothes,’ said the first voice. ‘Skinny too. I thought Seb went for curves.’

‘Guess he’s changed diets,’ said the other voice. ‘Wendy says she’s some kind of brain. Maybe she’s intellectually stimulating.’

‘For that she’d have to talk.’

Someone laughed. ‘Wait till Roarke gets a load of her. Reckon he’ll make good on his promise to steal Seb’s next woman?’

‘Technically, it was not Seb’s fault that Roarke’s weekend fling took one look at Seb and wanted to trade up. Seb never touched her. All he did was expose her for the money-grubbing little whore she was.’

Whoa. Not exactly inclined to mince words, these two.

Poppy leaned forward and stared at her shoes as the women occupied stalls either side of her.

She could still do this. She could.

She hit the flush button, gave her hands the fastest wash in history and went to find Seb.

She wasn’t coping. And Seb didn’t know if it was because she hated his world and the people in it or because of her innate reserve and shyness, but the woman who’d enslaved his body and captured his soul was drowning in a sea of people and they hadn’t even noticed.

He went with instinct as he went to her and handed her his coffee. She eyed him uncertainly. ‘About that data set in your office,’ she said. ‘Was it from the well that blew?’

Seb nodded.

‘Does it tell the right story?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I noticed a lot of trends in the data.’

‘There are. That’s what we monitor. Trends help predict kicks and other issues.’

Joel had come upon them again. Seb hadn’t cottoned on to what it was that was bothering Joel yet, but he would, and soon. Poppy gave the man an uncertain smile.

‘I’d like to have another look at the data, if I could,’ she told Seb, continuing the conversation. ‘And the programming behind it.’ Burying herself in maths again because she
didn’t know how to deal with people. On the other hand, if focusing on the work helped her find her feet in this environment, Seb was all for it.

‘Why?’ asked Joel.

‘The hydrostatic pressure calculations towards the end of that data set were so consistent. Be good to know why.’

‘Because the well was being controlled,’ snapped Joel.

‘I think it’s worth another look.’

‘Are you serious?’ said Joel. ‘Is she serious?’

‘Usually,’ said Seb.

‘And you’re actually going to indulge her? When did she become the expert? When did
you
stop leading with your head?’

‘It’s not as if you have anything to lose,’ said Poppy coolly.

Joel glared at her, and then turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Seb sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Actually, he does. Joel’s the software engineer for our data monitoring systems. That’s his baby you want to examine.’

‘Oh.’ Poppy shot him a glance full of apology. ‘I didn’t realise I was treading on toes. Still.’

‘You’ll get the data, Poppy. But I’d better
go and speak to him. I still don’t know what’s eating him. Something sure as hell is.’

Poppy nodded, but not before he’d seen the brief flash of outright terror in her eyes.

‘Go,’ she said.

‘You’ll be all right here for five minutes?’

‘Of course.’

He wanted to believe her.

‘Go,’ she said gently.

‘If a man called Roarke comes in, he’s probably going to try and come on to you,’ said Seb. ‘It’s a long story. I’d kill him but he’s saved my life a couple of times and I love him, so you’re going to have to make him see the error of his ways on your own.’

Poppy nodded. ‘Okay.’

Seb left after that.

Poppy took a calming breath and pretended herself back on the island. Nothing but the clouds in the sky and the sun on her face. No people to insult. No one to judge her. No vengeance-motivated suitors.