Someone Like You (15 page)

In the forty-eight hours since her door slam, he hadn’t texted her and she hadn’t messaged him. He’d talked to the paving guys and knew they were starting work that day. He didn’t need to give her a blow-by-blow account of two young blokes flattening dirt and laying bricks.

He wasn’t going to let the fact that she had the shits get to him. He hadn’t felt this good in months. He didn’t want to let it go. He had to strike while the iron was hot.

That’s why he went to see Ry.

Julia answered the door and damned if her smile didn’t disappear down her throat when she saw who it was.

‘Oh. Hi Dan.’

‘Hey Julia.’ He waited for an invitation to come inside. It didn’t come.

‘Ry home?’ he ventured, peering over her shoulder.

‘He’s on the phone.’ Reluctantly, she stepped back, opened the door wide.

Dan stomped his shoes on the front door mat and stepped in. He didn’t give a crap about sand in his own place but Ry and Julia’s house still looked like a show home. He followed Julia to the kitchen. When she offered him a coffee, he accepted with a simple nod.

He knew women. And he knew damn well when one was shitty at him. Was he going to cop it from the best friend as well? He should have figured Lizzie had called Julia and told her what happened. They’d probably trash talked him for hours. That thought hurt in a place that had been dead for a while. He rubbed his chest absent-mindedly.

‘Look Julia, if I’ve done something to piss you off—’

And oh boy, that was all the ammunition she needed to launch into him.

‘How could you, Dan? To Lizzie. She’s my
best
friend. She works for your best friend. She’s your best friend’s fiancée’s best friend.’ Julia began making very loud noises with the plates. Dan was hoping she’d at least stay away from the knives.

‘Yeah, Julia, I get the complicated community dynamic here that doesn’t go further than three houses within spitting distance of each other. What the hell are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about you. The kiss-and-tell thing. The blabbing about the other night.’ Julia almost tossed his coffee at him, planting the silver cup and saucer on the bench with a clatter, its contents dangerously close to spilling over the rim. Anger flared in her eyes, her mouth was a grim line. He could guess what she was thinking about him right about now.

‘How the hell do you know about that?’

‘That’s not the point, Dan, and you know it.’

‘Ry told you, didn’t he?’

‘I…oh—’ Julia fumed. ‘Get down here, Ry Blackburn!”

Dan crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Well. Who’s the one blabbing now?’

At the sound of Ry’s footsteps on the stairs, Dan and Julia both stopped and turned to glare up at him with accusing eyes. Sensing the tension, he stopped and took a few steps in retreat.

‘Oh no you don’t, soon-to-be-husband of mine.’ Julia called. She aimed a pointed finger at him and curled it repeatedly.

‘I second that, mate,’ Dan added, with ironic emphasis on the last word of that sentence. ‘What the hell, Ry? Whatever happened to “what goes on tour stays on tour”?’

Ry joined them in the kitchen but ignored their questions. He opened a cupboard door, grabbed an espresso-sized cup and made himself a coffee, buying himself some important time to come up with a defence that wouldn’t get him in trouble with either the love of his life or his best mate. Tricky.

‘C’mon Julia, don’t have a go at Dan. You’re the one who wheedled it out of me.’

‘I can’t help it if I have superior powers of persuasion,’ Julia said.

Ry raised his eyebrows. ‘Especially when you’re naked.’

‘You are way too easy. And I was curious. But Dan shouldn’t have told you in the first place.’

‘Yes,’ Ry said, ‘and clearly, I shouldn’t have told you. So I think we’re all in strife.’

Julia pulled out a stool and sat down, dropping her chin in her hands. ‘Lizzie hasn’t called me in two days.’

She glared once again at Dan. ‘I think she’s upset.’ Ry moved next to her, rubbed her back with a caring hand.

Dan felt his teeth clench, an ache in his jaw coming out of nowhere. He got up, pushed the stool in, and started to walk to the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Julia asked, concern in her voice.

‘I’m running away from group therapy, doctor. That all right with you?’ Dan’s smile undercut the abruptness of his words. His footsteps echoed across the enormous living room, about as big as his whole house, he figured, and when he reached out to open the door, Julia called out.

‘Hey, Dan.’

He looked back at her and decided she’d picked up her smug grin from her fiancé.

‘Tell Lizzie I said hi.’

He swore under his breath. He didn’t yet know Julia well enough to do it out loud. But the way she was going, that would be pretty damn soon. ‘What makes you think I’m going to see Elizabeth?’

Julia snorted. ‘Pul-ease.

Ry raised his eyebrows into a smirk, winked at Dan. ‘Nicely done, by the way. You and Lizzie.’

‘Ryan Blackburn!’ Julia covered her eyes with her hands. ‘I can’t believe you just said that.’

‘C’mon, JJ. Don’t pretend this hasn’t been your plan all along. You’ve won. It happened. You’ll be hanging up a new shingle soon:
Julia Jones, Middle of Nowhere Matchmaker
.’

‘Shut up, Ry! It wasn’t my plan for Dan to use her like a pair of disposable undies.’

Dan turned back. The ache in his jaw now tremored right across his shoulders and down his spine.

‘What did you just say?’ He managed to keep his voice steady and calm. Which was the total opposite of how he felt.

Julia hopped off the stool, her fists clenched, defiant. He did a double take when he realised she looked like she wanted to punch him in the face. Ry stood at her side, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

‘Congratulations. It looks like the old Dan is back, the man-whore Dan. Which may or may not be good for you, don’t get me wrong, but it is not what Lizzie needs.’

Dan thought back to his night with Lizzie. The way she’d trembled in his arms and fallen asleep next to him, her face like an angel on his pillow. Julia didn’t have a fucking clue what Lizzie needed. Didn’t have one either about what he needed.

It took every ounce of control he had not to bite back. And that control was about one thing and one thing only. Lizzie. He wasn’t going to get stuck into Julia when all she was doing was going she-wolf and defending her best friend. He got that. It’s what best friends did for each other. But as he saw Julia’s anger in every feature of her face, he thought back over what she’d said. Lizzie hadn’t called her for two days. Julia said she’d found out from Ry. So Lizzie hadn’t called Julia to launch into a character assassination over a cappuccino. He was feeling more and more confused. He couldn’t figure Lizzie out – at all.

Dan brought the conversation back to a place that made sense.

‘Look, Ry, I came here to have a word with you. I want to go back to work.’

Ry looked at him, his eyebrows raised. ‘You mean
work
work?’

‘Yeah, in the job I have in your company. You know, the one where I do all the work and you take all the credit.’

‘Yeah, sure. Of course.’ Ry walked over to him, slapped him on the back a couple of times, football-player style. For a minute Dan thought Ry was going to hug him. Shit a brick. Had Ry ever hugged him? Maybe once, when they’d both been pissed and Port Power had won the AFL Grand Final.

‘Okay,’ Dan said. It was done. And just doing it meant a weight lifted from Dan’s shoulders. ‘I can get stuck in right away.’

‘Work, yeah.’ Ry looked over to Julia, and Dan could tell they were having a conversation with their eyes. Julia’s anger had disappeared and she’d wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes glistening.

‘Look, why don’t you concentrate on getting the pub done so we can get that open for Christmas, and I’ll catch up with you in a couple days, bring you up to speed with Windswept.’

‘The pub’s looking good.’

‘It is,’ Ry said.

Dan looked back at them as he walked out the door, just to check. He’d been right. Damn it if there weren’t tears in Julia’s eyes.

It was mid-afternoon and the lunch trade had thinned out; only a few locals were seated at the bar when Dan walked in. He marched down the corridor leading to the rear of the building and turned left when he noticed a glassed office door with the word ‘Manager’ inscribed in gold lettering.

He grabbed the handle but tamped down his instinct to barge right in. He had to handle this carefully. So he knocked and waited.

As soon as Lizzie saw the big dark shape silhouetted in the glass, she knew exactly who it was. And she knew that she didn’t want to face him. They’d managed to avoid each other for two whole days and that had been working well for her.
Oh, like hell
. She threw her pen down on her desk and sulked. She hadn’t wanted to talk to anybody. Including Julia. She knew that Julia knew what had happened. There was no way on earth the loved-up super-couple of Middle Point would keep secrets that big from each other. Lizzie had been a jittery wreck every time she got a text message and had the tell-tale signs of not getting enough sleep: two smudgy black shadows had come to stay and moved in right under her eyes. All the miracle camouflaging make-up in the world hadn’t worked. And now he was right there, behind that wood and glass door.

She’d spent the past two days hammering out what to say the next time she saw him, of course she had. She was a woman, after all. And so far, she’d narrowed down her options to:

Coming a very distant last was:

There was another knock, a little more insistent this time and her resolve began to feel shaky. In a panic, she picked up her mobile, slammed it to her ear and called out, ‘Come in.’

Dan stepped in to her office and closed the creaking door behind him. Lizzie pointed to the phone, rolled her eyes, hoping that he would get that she was very busy and important and couldn’t possibly hang up on someone equally busy and important just because a handsome man had entered her office. He gave her a nod of understanding and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. She gulped; cast a glance up and down his body, remembering their night together. Oh God,
those
jeans. Her heart thudded in her chest. And then she remembered she was supposed to be pissed off at him, so tried really hard not to think about what he looked like naked.

Dan leaned back against the door, waiting, and Lizzie wondered if he was trying put as much distance between them as he possibly could. Which was almost impossible given that the two of them, two grey metal filing cabinets, an ancient hat rack and a locked wooden door leading down to the cellar were all jammed into an area no bigger than three by three metres. In that confined space, Dan towered over every bit of furniture, dominating the room. As well as every single thought in her head.

Lizzie tore her eyes away from his jeans and tight T-shirt and remembered she was supposed to be on a call. She held two fingers in the air to let him know she’d only be a couple of minutes and then realised she hadn’t invented in her head who she might be talking to.

‘Sure. Will do. Uh huh. Certainly.’ She nodded, wondering just how long she should go on to make it seem real. ‘How many cases did you say? I’m thinking of freshening up the wine list, so that’s good to know.’ She glanced at Dan, whose gaze hadn’t moved from hers the whole time he’d been standing there. It was making Lizzie very jumpy.

‘That sounds great. Talk soon.’ She jabbed at the screen of her phone to end the charade.

‘Hi Dan,’ she said, aiming for breezy. Or perhaps I-don’t-give-a-damn-that-you’re-here.

‘Elizabeth,’ he replied, his deep voice low and quiet in the room.

‘What can I do for you?’

With a flash of awareness, Lizzie realised she’d been so distracted by his body and thinking about it naked and faking her phone call that she hadn’t realised the important thing going on in that room. Which wasn’t the combustible sexual tension she was feeling. It was the very fact that Dan was standing there. In her office. In the pub. He’d actually left his house in daylight hours. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

‘I’ve come to check up on progress,’ he said, matter-of-factly, absent-mindedly rubbing the growth on his chin. It looked like he hadn’t shaved since…in a couple of days, at least. Lizzie stood, walked around the desk, tried not to stand too close to him. Impossible in her little office. She could do this. She could talk business with Dan McSwaine. Easy peasy. She could also pretend it wasn’t a massive leap forward for him to be standing there. She could do that, too. Which didn’t mean she wasn’t still pissed off at him, but that could wait.

‘You wanna see what’s been going on today?’ Lizzie smiled up at him and damn it if those green eyes of his weren’t weaving their special kind of charm on her all over again. He never just looked at her, it was as if he was staring right into her, reaching into her head and spinning her brain around like a plate on a stick until she felt dizzy.

‘Yeah, I do.’ Dan had pushed himself back against the wall to make room for her to pass, but she couldn’t stop her hip and shoulder brushing against his body, all hard muscle and tension, a rigid wall in the doorway. She tried to remain calm, turned left and headed outside.

Lizzie relished the warm December sun on her skin and squinted at the brightness and intensity of the southern Australian light. Dan surveyed the area, taking in the partially completed paving, and looked over at the two tradies sitting in the shade of their truck with their smoko snack of a sausage roll and an iced coffee.

‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ he told her, and loped over to the young guys. Lizzie watched him, one arm resting on the truck’s cab, looking down, talking, pointing to various sections of the site. He took out his phone and made a call, the two guys waiting for an answer he was clearly getting from somebody.