Before (3 page)

“I was thinking…” Surprisingly, she hesitated. Mrs. Gee was never lost for words.

“Don’t strain yourself.” I deadpanned and she laughed.

“What I was trying to say, smart arse, was I’m thinking you might want to try your hand at some new recipes? Help me out?”

Touched by her offer, I said, “Why?”

She glanced away, her gaze glistening with the sheen of telltale tears. “Because my daughter’s having woman’s problems in Cairns and I may need to go see her on short notice.”

Not wanting to precipitate tears, or hear more about the delicate workings of the female anatomy that Mrs. Gee would gladly impart if I showed the slightest interest, I focused on her offer. “Sorry to hear about your girl, but you want
me
to be in charge of all the cooking if you go?”

I didn’t add,
are you insane?

What did I know about serving the posh food homestead guests regularly expected?

“You can handle it.” She opened a nearby cupboard, pulled out a stack of cookbooks and slid them across the bench. “Here. I’ve made notes on all my favorites, but I reckon you could choose a few of your own and have a go.”

“But—”

“There are no guests coming bar the Yanks, so it won’t be too difficult.” Her eyes crinkled with amusement. “Besides, if it gets too much for you, just serve them bangers and mash.”

Somehow, I couldn’t see an American politician considering sausages and mashed potatoes gourmet fare.

“You’re serious about this?”

She nodded. “I have full confidence in you.” She tapped her watch face. “You start shadowing me first thing in the morning.”

I’d wanted to shake my life up a little.

Looked like I’d got my wish.

Most guys my age were busy getting a tertiary education, getting a car and getting laid.

Me? I had nothing but a spatula in one hand and a stack of cookbooks in another. Not quite the excitement I craved but hey, a guy had to start somewhere.

JESS

“Drink this.” Chantal thrust a brandy at me. “It’ll settle your nerves.”

“I’m not nervous, I’m freaking furious.” I took the drink and downed it in three gulps, coughing and spluttering as it burned my throat.

“That’s why you should agree to my plan.” Chantal made a scissor action with her fingers. “Castration is the only answer for slimy bastards like that.”

“I’m actually angry at myself.”

And I was. Downright livid, that I’d put myself in the position to be raped. I should’ve been more tuned to the vibes Dave had been giving off, should’ve been more savvy than to enter a bedroom, albeit with a friend.

Mom always said I was too naive. Having to admit she was right stung almost as much as me misjudging Dave.

“You did nothing wrong,” Chantal said, curling up on the sofa next to me. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“That’s the thing. I do.” My voice came out soft and pathetically needy. “I’m clueless when it comes to guys.”

“How so?” Chantal glanced away, like she couldn’t look me in the eye and lie. Because the fact was, we’d both grown up in Craye Canyon. Small town life with a small town mentality. I’d been a goody-two-shoes, trying my best to be the opposite of Mom. Chantal knew this. She’d teased me about it.

Lucky for my brazen cousin, she’d never cared what anyone thought of her and had fled town as soon as she turned eighteen. Now, four years later, here we both were. One of us was a stunning blonde dancer who enticed men for a living. The other one was a dweeby, good girl who hadn’t got to first base with a guy.

“I don’t flirt, I don’t date, I don’t have any freaking idea when a guy likes me or not,” I said, grabbing the nearest cushion and hugging it to my chest. “That’s why I wonder if I kinda brought this on myself.”

Chantal punched me on the arm. “You’re invoking the defense of every rapist on the planet.
‘She asked for it.’
Or ‘
she dressed like a slut so she deserved it.’
” Chantal shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“I know, but…” Dave’s accusations echoed in my head. Had I inadvertently led him on?

“But what?”

“He said a bunch of stuff—”

“That tried to lay the blame on you, right?” Chantal snorted. “Forget it, sweetie. None of this was your fault.”

Chantal’s cell beeped and she hesitated before picking it up.

“Go ahead.” It would give me more time to ponder what the hell I was going to do.

I didn’t want to throw my virginity away on some lowlife, but I wasn’t holding out for the fabled knight in shining armor either. One thing I did know. Until I had sex for the first time, Dave’s ‘frigid bitch’ and ‘cockteaser’ would haunt me.

“That was Reid,” Chantal said, waving the cell at me. “He’s coming over.”

I sat bolt upright. “You didn’t tell him anything?”

Chantal rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’m not a complete moron. I know your bro’s overprotective. He’d probably bash that bastard’s brains out and lose his fast track to the senate.”

So true, and the major reason I’d already decided not to tell Reid about this. I loved my sole sibling dearly but since our dad ran out on us when he was seven Reid took his man of the house responsibilities very seriously.

“Then what’s he doing in Vegas?”

“To see you, apparently.” Chantal shrugged. “He said he’d been to your dorm, you weren’t there, so he checked in here to see if I’d seen you.”

“Why didn’t he ring me?”

“Said he did.”

I patted down the small purse I’d taken to the party, belatedly realizing I’d left my cell in my dorm room. “Damn.”

Chantal poked me in the arm. “Rule number one of savvy women. Keep your cell within reach at all times.”

She was right. I was a moron for leaving my cell behind when attending a party at a new place. Pity my street smarts weren’t on par with my grades.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Gullible idiot,” Chantal added, with a smirk. “You need to find yourself a guy, sweetie. Pronto.”

“Sure thing.” I wriggled on the sofa and pretended to look under it. “Let me just pull one out of my ass.”

Chantal laughed. “Maybe you should make that your summer project. Find a hot guy and let loose.”

I wouldn’t know where to start.

“What are you doing for summer?”

I grimaced. “No idea.”

Chantal’s hand flew to her mouth. “Tell me you’re not spending it back home running around from wedding to wedding as your mom’s lackey?”

“Are you nuts? I’m a sad case but I’m not that desperate.”

Besides, been there, done that, ripped up the veil to prove it. Being an assistant to the most hyper wedding planner on the planet was not my idea of fun. I’d been roped into helping Mom too many times as a teenager. If I saw one more place card, garter or buttonhole rose, I’d scream.

“Then what are you going to do?”

A knock on the door saved me from answering. My brother always had impeccable timing. He was also incredibly astute so I better pull off the best acting of my life to fool him into believing there was nothing wrong.

“I’m not letting you off the hook,” Chantal said, before she headed to the door.

The moment I heard my brother’s booming voice, I wanted to cry. Stupid, but he was the one guy in this world I could count on.

“Hey, Sis.” He strode into Chantal’s lounge room, immediately shrinking it with his presence.

Reid had that effect everywhere he went. It wasn’t the slick suits he wore or his height or his confidence he wore like a badge of honor. Simply, Reid was a guy people noticed because he had that unidentifiable ‘it’ factor. Pity I’d only inherited the ‘shit’ factor.

“Hey you.” I stood and welcomed his hug, swallowing the lump in my throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to find you.” He eased away, held me at arms’ length. “Got any plans for the next month?”

Was this a trick question? Did my powerful politician brother going places know what a loser he had for a sister?

“Why?” My eyes narrowed. “Because no way am I spending my summer in some cramped campaign office in LA folding letters or stuffing envelopes.”

“Do you have plans or not?” His smug grin signaled he definitely knew something I didn’t.

“No,” I said, with a huff. “Not yet.”

“Good.” He pulled a folded document out of his inside top pocket and handed it to me. “Take a look at that and see if you’d like to join me.”

“Hurry up, slow coach.” Chantal elbowed me and I jostled her back as I unfolded the paper. “What is it?”

I sped read the document, not quite absorbing the impact. “This is an itinerary for a trip to Australia?”

“Yeah. One day in Melbourne. Two in Sydney. Then four weeks in far north Queensland.” Reid folded his arms and smiled at me like a benevolent god. “You in?”

My mouth must’ve gaped because Chantal placed her finger under my chin and shut it.

“How? Why?” My brother had never played pranks on me when we were kids and by his benevolent expression, he was serious.

“My boss’s daughter is the widow who runs the cattle station we’ll be staying at in Queensland. He wants me to present a few proposals to facilitate ties between the cattle industries in Australia and California. He wants to get the farmers in Cali onside and some good PR happening for us. It’ll be a huge boost to our next campaign.”

This still sounded too good to be true. “Why can’t he do it?”

“Because he wasn’t so supportive when his only kid left the States to live in the outback twenty-five years ago and they’ve only reunited two years back when her husband died.” Reid shrugged. “He doesn’t want to mix business with family stuff, especially when they were estranged for so long.”

“So you’re his lackey?”

Reid nodded. “Yeah. A very lucky lackey who gets to visit Australia for the first time, all expenses paid, and take his sister because he’s too busy to have a girlfriend.”

“And because he’s a lame-ass,” Chantal piped up, flashing a sickly sweet smile at Reid when he flipped her the bird.

I scanned the itinerary again, not quite believing this was true. “You’re serious?”

Reid nodded. “As deadly as those tiger snakes and funnel web spiders they have Down Under.”

I didn’t give a flying fig about the local fauna. A free trip to OZ? I’d grab my ruby slippers. I was so there.

“I’m in.” I hugged Reid, who squeezed me back. He gave the best bear hugs. “Thanks.”

“Want me to give you a ride back to the dorm so you can pack?”

I shot a panicked glance at Chantal. No way did I want to risk running into Dave and the resultant fallout if Reid was with me.

“When are you leaving?” Chantal slung an arm around my shoulder. “Because we’d planned on having a girls’ night in, so maybe she can pack tomorrow.”

Reid glanced at his watch. “I’ve got the company jet ready to take us back to LA now, Sis, and we fly out tomorrow.” He gave Chantal a noogie. “So your girls’ night will have to wait.”

Chantal mouthed ‘I tried’ behind Reid’s back and I flashed a grateful smile. Hopefully, Dave would be hiding out in his room and we wouldn’t cross paths.

“Okay then, let’s go.” I hugged Chantal, who whispered in my ear, “Aussie guys are hot. Chris, Liam and Luke Hemsworth? Alex O’Loughlin? Simon Baker? Find a lookalike and lose the cherry, okay?”

I stifled a laugh, not sure whether to be mortified my cousin knew I was a virgin or a tad excited by the prospect of being surrounded by Hemsworth lookalikes.

As we left, Reid rested his arm across my shoulder. “Ready for an outback adventure, Jessie?”

“Absolutely.”

A month in Australia, an ocean away from UNLV and Dickwad Dave?

Bring it on.

JACK

“Kid, not only are you easy on the eye, you’re a genius in the kitchen.” Mrs. Gee ruffled my hair as she licked lemon curd I’d whipped off the spoon.

Heat crept into my cheeks.  “Should I be worried you’re unsheathing hidden cougar claws?”

She threw an empty plastic canister at my head in response.

Ducking, I laughed. “So you think I’m ready?”

“Ready?” She gestured at the afternoon tea feast I’d done from scratch, with her supervising. “You’ll have me out of a job if I’m not careful.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her there’d never be a chance of that, since I wouldn’t be sticking around. Putting down roots in one place wasn’t my style, no matter how much I liked learning from her.

“Your scones are light and fluffy. Your apple tea cake is sublime. Your plum jam is the best I’ve ever tasted.” She pointed at the last item, my pride and joy. “And that red velvet cake you made especially for the Yanks is indescribable.”

“Thanks,” I said, my simple gratitude not nearly enough for what Mrs. Gee had done for me.

She’d given me an opportunity, had seen something in me that I never knew I had. The ability to create.

I’d scoured her cookbooks. I’d experimented with recipes. And I’d adlibbed a hell of a lot. The result? I actually believed I could cook. Not just serve rote learned basic meals to the station workmen, but actually cook fancy-schmancy dishes anyone would enjoy. Who knew?

“You did good.” She beamed at me, pride making her eyes gleam.

Why couldn’t I have had a normal mum like her? Not some flake that couldn’t handle motherhood so she dumped her kid in a foster system that made me grow up way too fast.

“When are they arriving?”

As if on cue, I heard the distant rumble of a diesel engine and the clattering as one of the homestead’s 4WDs traversed the metal grate at the entry to the property.

“That’ll be them.” Mrs. Gee untied her apron, dusted off her hands and patted her wiry grey curls. “Doreen wants the main staff to greet them. And what the boss lady wants, we do.”

I turned away to check on the table one last time when she tapped me on the shoulder. “That includes you now.”

What the fuck? I didn’t want to be part of some pansy-arsed greeting party for the guests. This wasn’t the eighteenth century.

“I’ll give it a miss—”