Page 88 of Third Time’s a Charm

Dropping his head and turning away from us, he murmurs something to Tate we can’t hear. While they whisper frantically at each other, Will sits back down and turns to me with a grin and a wink before schooling his features again.

“I’d like an hour to review the contract, if that would be acceptable?” The lawyer’s tone is resigned.

Will consults his great, big power-symbol watch and shrugs. “You can have forty-five minutes,” he responds before leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, signalling we’re not going anywhere.

Tate, John and the lawyer leave the room. They can’t have gone far because seconds later we hear the slam of a door followed by shouting. A lot of shouting. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I recognise both John and Tate’s voices, and the more modulated, yet no less frantic, tones of the lawyer.

Will and I sit in silence, although I could swear I heard him mutter what sounded like what a limp dick as the three men left. He’s relaxed, scrolling on his phone. I sit immobile, as though I’ve been dipped in cement.

With every minute that ticks by, my frame of mind changes. From hopeful to terrified to confident to uncertain.

“Do you think this will work?” I whisper.

Will chuckles as though he’s enjoying this. “Oh, yeah. They’re toast.”

“You’re not at least a little freaked out?”

“Nah. I love to see a creep like him get his arse handed to him. Bonus points if I’m the one doing the handing. Well done, by the way, you were great.”

Forty-three minutes after they scuttled out the door, Tate Brown, John Mackelden and the company lawyer slink back into the meeting room.

No words are exchanged, but the contracts are placed on the table and signatures are scrawled.

Will flicks through each page to make sure no amendments have been made, slides them into his briefcase, stands, and holds his hand out to the other lawyer, who looks like he’s swallowed a frog. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Turning, he tilts his head slightly for me to precede him out the door before pausing on the threshold.

“A word to the wise, Mr Brown. If I ever hear any whispers that my client’s name is being maligned, or you interfere with her professionally or personally in any way, I will come down on you with the wrath of a Greek god.” His smile gives him the look of the shark his brother described him as. “And none of us want that, do we?”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Jasper

The past couple of weeks have been the best and hardest of my life.

At the outset, I was more than a little nervous someone from Cellar Road would cause trouble. But Tate Brown got on a plane and scuttled off back to the UK, and Mackelden disappeared without a trace.

According to Colin, the tide of opinion amongst the staff was against me when the closure announcement was made. Understandably enough—and probably helped along by a few well-placed comments from Tate—they felt I had precipitated the situation. But Colin managed to turn that around, and Louise has actually been approached for a job by several of them.

As soon as the ink was dry on the release we got Tate to sign, the real work began. Sixteen-hour days. Constant decision-making on issues that felt weighty. Making decisions for your own business is both more exciting, and more nerve-racking, than when you’re just an employee, no matter how committed. Things are moving rapidly, but I love the fast pace and the pressure. It’s an adrenaline rush.

Always in the back of my mind is the spectre of my new visa application being denied and being sent back to the UK. Which is a complete one-eighty from where I was when I arrived. But Australia, and the people I’ve met here, have become my home.

Which brings me to the hardest part, but also the best. Spending my days with Louise.

She’s blossoming. There’s no other way to describe it. Every day her confidence grows. Ideas bubble out of her. She approaches every challenge head-on. And she’s loving every minute of the adventure.

Then there’s my physical reaction to her. The smell of her hair, the glow of her cheeks, the curve of her breasts. I’m in a constant state of emotional and physical arousal.

I might as well be a labrador, gazing longingly at a plate of food that’s just out of reach. Drooling. It’s embarrassing. How she hasn’t noticed is a mystery. But she seems oblivious to my yearning.

I’ve said nothing to anyone, but the guys we’re working with are sharp. And they all have an opinion. Will and Ben say I need to grow a pair and remind her how I feel. Josh says a grand gesture is what’s needed, and given how it worked out for him and his wife, Greer, he might have a point. Ant, who knows her best, says I need to give her time. Colin, who loves a bit of drama, suggests I pretend to hook up with someone else to try and make her jealous. Yeah, nah, as they say in Australia. Not happening.

My instincts tell me the right time will come. But it had better come soon, because I’m likely to combust.

It’s a problem I turn over in my mind constantly.

Until today.