Short Soup (4 page)

Pearl nodded at him. “You can’t make these wonton in a restaurant anyway. At home I mix ingredients by hand, not a machine. Tastes much better.” She eyed her daughter calculatingly. “Maybe I teach you while you’re here.”

“Dion’s the cook, not me.”

“What about when I’m gone?”

Toni’s mother didn’t look like she was going any time soon. Toni shrugged her shoulders. “Well, Dion can make wonton, then.”

“Maybe Dion too busy.” Pearl fixed her daughter with a steely gaze. “Maybe Dion not always around for you.”

An awkward pause developed. Toni glanced at him, surprise flickering across her face. Was that because she couldn’t imagine him
not
being around? All her life she’d taken him for granted. He couldn’t blame her; he had been the same way with her, once. Not any more. He wanted her to sit up and take notice of him. He stared at her lips still moist from the soup. Maybe he should just put his arm around her waist right now, pull her into him, and kiss that damn delicious mouth of hers. That would get her attention.

Toni dipped her head, almost embarrassed, and he wondered if she’d read his mind. “You’re right, Mum,” she murmured to her mother. “I should take a few lessons from you.”

Pearl nodded, pleased. “Once you know, it’s not hard at all.”

Toni shifted about in her chair. He felt her pulling away from him, maybe uncomfortable by what she’d seen in his expression just then. He didn’t mind. At least she sensed things between them were different now.

After dinner, Toni and Dion cleaned up as usual. They stacked the dishwasher, packed leftovers into the fridge, wiped down the table. The parents had moved to the living room, where they settled down to a few rounds of mah jong. Falling into the habits of a lifetime, Toni and Dion retreated to the back porch. Here her father had fitted flyscreens to the open sides, hung up baskets of ferns, and put in some chairs and benches. Dion stretched out on a banana lounge. Toni took a folding chair near him.

“You want more wine? A beer, maybe?” she asked, noticing the can of Coke in his hand.

He shook his head. “Coke’s fine. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

Nodding, she took a sip of her own soft drink.

“Just like old times, huh?” Dion said after a few moments’ silence.

“Yeah.”

When their parents played mah jong she and Dion always hung out together. She would usually have her nose in a book. Dion wasn’t that much into books. He’d read a comic or practise on his guitar or cajole her into playing board games with him. She leaned her head against the wall. From the house came the faint sounds of the mah jong players – the clicking of tiles, the occasional cries of “pung”, the “ahs” as someone declared mah jong followed by a rushing chatter as tiles were washed and walls rebuilt. The sounds were embedded in her psyche, the backdrop to her childhood, as familiar to her as the taste of her mother’s cooking. She ought to be completely relaxed, but she wasn’t. In fact she’d been jittery ever since she’d opened the front door and saw Dion standing there looking devastatingly attractive.

She sneaked a sideways peek at him. The simple navy blue shirt fitted snugly across his shoulders, tapering down to his trim waist. His pressed cotton trousers hugged the length of his legs. His hair was crisp and dark, and his skin glowed like polished copper. Her stomach tensed as something swirled low in her belly. Dion had always been good looking, confident without being arrogant, but since bumping into him this afternoon it was as if she was seeing him in a new light. Suddenly he wasn’t just the friend she took for granted. Now he was a drop dead sexy hunk wreaking havoc with her senses. A gorgeous man who had her all a-flutter, who made her want to reach out and touch him, badly.

She must be turning crazy. This was Dion, for heaven’s sakes, the boy who’d once stuffed a grasshopper down the back of her shirt. The boy who’d tried to convince her a bottle of pee was lemonade. The teenager who’d preferred to go surfing with his friends than study with her for their finals. How could she have the hots for him?

Biting her lip, she looked away. It made no sense. Her body was out of control. Maybe it was just a post-divorce hormonal thing. Maybe she just needed to spend a few more
days in Dion’s company for her confusion to die down. Yes, that was it. She hadn’t seen him in ages, and she’d forgotten what he was like. A few days hanging out with him and she’d quickly realise he was just the same old Dion she’d always known and whatever he was stirring in her would naturally calm down.

The silence between them was becoming more than awkward. She cleared her throat. “So, tell me about the restaurant. How did you manage to wrest control from the parents?”

He threw a brief glance towards the house before lowering his voice. “To be honest, it was time for a drastic change. Business has been getting worse these past few years.”

“Oh.” Toni frowned. “I didn’t know that. My parents haven’t said a thing.”

Dion tapped the top of his Coke can, his expression thoughtful. “Years ago we had the only Asian restaurant in Piper Bay, but there’s a lot more competition these days. Now there’s Thai, Japanese, Korean. Plus, the clientele has changed. They expect something different.”

She nodded in agreement. Their parents were good cooks, but when they’d first opened the restaurant they’d adapted their food to suit more conservative palates, and over the years they’d stuck to the same formula. “I guess fewer people want Westernised Chinese food these days.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them for the past two years. It’s taken me that long to persuade them to give me a chance. I learned so much during my time in Hong Kong and Beijing. I want to serve food that’s authentic, fresh, locally produced where possible. I think that’s what people want these days.” He paused. “I’ve sunk all my savings into the renovations and hiring of new staff. In return I’ll be getting a third of the profits, so I hope you don’t think I’m unfairly muscling in on the business.”

She sat up straighter. “I don’t think anything of the sort. I’m glad you’re taking over the restaurant.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. If you ask me, a third of the profits in return for all the hard work you’ll be putting in seems like a poor return.”

His lips quirked. “Maybe I should’ve got you to negotiate a better deal for me.”

“Maybe you should have.” She smiled back at him. “I’m amazed at your entrepreneurial spirit.”

“Never thought a slacker like me had it in him, right?” His tone was teasing, but there was a gentle bite to it.

“Um, I’m just glad you’ve found a job you enjoy.”

He leaned back in his banana lounge, tucking his hand behind his head. “Yeah, me too.”

Silence lapsed once more. She emptied her can of Coke, set it down next to her feet, and smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress. From inside the house came the sound of her mother laughing gleefully as she won a game.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Dion’s voice cut through the quiet.

He’d sat up and was leaning towards her, an uncharacteristically sombre expression on his face. She gave a brief laugh. “Gee, usually you don’t ask permission first.”

He didn’t return her laugh. His brown eyes held hers steadily. “It’s about Nick.”

“Oh.” She fidgeted with her dress. At the back of her mind she’d always known they’d have to have this conversation. “What did you want to ask?”

“How long had you known the two of you were on the rocks?”

“What, you didn’t hear about the explicit text messages and photos I found on his phone?” she retorted bitterly. “You don’t think that qualifies as being on the rocks?”

His mouth tightened. “You know what I mean,” he continued, his tone patient. “There must have been something before that, something that led to you checking his phone.”

She picked up the can again and squeezed it, her heart as cold and brittle as the metal. “You’re right. God, where do I start?” Blinking, she breathed in and out slowly as she tried to regain her self-control. “Looking back now, I can see all the warning signs, but at the time I just swept our problems under the carpet. Nick fancied himself as some sort of Svengali figure. He saw himself as sophisticated, and me callow, and he enjoyed ‘moulding’ me.” The memories caused her to wince, but she made herself continue. “I was too naive to see the imbalance in our relationship. I was in love with him, and I thought that was enough. I hoped as I matured we’d become closer, but instead the opposite happened. The more I strove to be what he wanted, the more he criticised me.”

Dion scowled. “He sounds sick to me.”

“Nick only feels good about himself when he’s making others feel inferior,” she said sadly. “He didn’t like it when I became more his equal because it made him feel inadequate. That’s when he started noticing the summer student on his team. She was fresh meat to him.”

It had been particularly humiliating to find out that Nick’s secret mistress was someone Toni had seen at work every day, someone who sat just a few desks away. The young woman had reminded Toni of herself in her university days – wide-eyed, eager, gullible, and completely susceptible to Nick’s debonair charm. The student had been on Nick’s project team, which made for a convenient excuse when Nick told her he had to work overtime. The fallout of the affair hadn’t just been the end of her marriage. Claims of inappropriate behaviour had seen Nick stripped of his team leadership role and transferred to
another division. He’d been more furious about that than the implosion of their relationship. Not surprisingly, he had blamed everyone for his demotion except himself.

“Things weren’t right between us for a long while,” she continued. Now that Dion had got her started she couldn’t stop. “I realise that now, but at the time I thought it was normal. Nick was my first serious boyfriend. I didn’t have anything else to compare us with.” She glanced across at Dion. “It would’ve been good to have you there, telling me the ugly truth. I had other friends, but I’d only known them a short time. Not like you. You wouldn’t have pulled any punches, would you?”

His eyes were heavy on her. He didn’t give her the flippant answer she half-expected. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I wouldn’t have wanted to burst your bubble. You were … crazy about Nick. I’d never seen you so nuts over someone.”

Sheesh, Dion had only seen them together a handful of times, but he’d known she was completely enthralled by Nick and oblivious to his faults. That hurt. She pushed to her feet and walked over to the flyscreen to stare out at the night. “Did I seem stupid to you? Was I a pathetic, clinging girlfriend?” The image made her grimace.

“You’re never pathetic.” His warm breath wafted over her bare shoulder. He’d risen too, she realised, and was standing just behind her, close enough she could feel the heat spreading off his body.

A shiver ran down her spine, even though the night was humid. Turning to face him, she said, “Those few times you met Nick, what did you think of him?”

His gaze flicked over her face, focused as a laser beam, as if he’d never seen her before and wanted to memorise her every feature. “I shouldn’t really say.”

All the air seemed to be trapped at the bottom of her lungs. She caught a faint whiff of his scent – soap and shaving cream. Had he always smelled this enticing? It shocked her to think she’d never noticed before. She gulped and said tightly, “Sounds as if you never liked him. Is that true?”

The outline of his shoulders grew rigid. She sensed him tensing as if he was about to tell her something disagreeable, but then he softly expelled his breath. “I hardly knew the guy.”

Frustration welled up in her. “Come on. Since when did you start tiptoeing around the truth? Remember when I had that massive crush on Corey in Year Ten? You told me not to waste my time with him, and you were right. You’ve never bothered hiding your opinion about anything. So why start now?” Clenching her fists, she glared up at him. “Is there something you knew about Nick? Something you didn’t want to tell me? Huh?”

He didn’t step back from her open hostility but stood there, solid as granite, hands on hips. “I didn’t know the first thing about Nick.” His voice was rough, impatient. “All I knew was that you were head over heels in love with him. That’s all, and that was enough for me.”

She studied his glowering expression, trying to winnow out the truth. Dion had never sought Nick out, never tried to forge a friendship with him. Dion wasn’t shy about anything. If he’d kept Nick at arm’s length it had been for a reason. An uncomfortable possibility spiked through her thoughts. Maybe Nick had made Dion feel inadequate. Everything was a competition to Nick, and he loved being top dog. With his looks, money, and career, Nick regarded himself a winner, whereas Dion was just a laidback cook in a Chinese restaurant with no ambitions except to enjoy life. Yes, she could just imagine Nick having a few digs at Dion on the side, just to make himself feel superior. Typical of him. Indignation on Dion’s behalf swelled up.

“Well, I’m not in love with him any more,” she declared a bit too loudly. “That’s for sure.”

“Yeah?” He lifted his eyebrows.

“Nick is an insecure, cheating, no-good bastard.”

“But you loved him once.”

It sounded like an accusation. For no reason her body started shivering and her head began to ache. “Yes, I loved him. How could I be so dumb?” The words came out on a wail.

He cupped her face between his hands. “You’re not dumb. He’s the dumb one for not realising what he had.” The calluses on his palms were rough against her cheeks. Rough and infinitely comforting.

“If only you’d told me not to marry him.”

“Huh. And you would have taken my advice?”

“I might have.” She gulped. He began to circle his thumbs over her cheeks, the action almost absentminded, but she was hyper aware of his touch. The feel of his fingers sent darts of heat through her body. She’d never realised how gentle and sensual his work-roughened hands could be.

“You would’ve told me to mind my own damn business.” His voice lowered, growing husky. His eyes were the colour of molasses.

He shifted closer until there was less than an inch between them. She could have wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. She wanted to, but something paralysed her. Her breathing shortened, and she couldn’t stop staring at Dion’s mouth. He had wonderful lips, she realised. They looked soft yet firm and very kissable, and they were so close to her she only had to stand on tiptoe to reach them.