Bonjour Cherie (9 page)

I finished my shift at 6 o'clock and arranged to meet the girls at the local cinema around 7:30pm. Slipping into my comfy jeans, oldish jade top and flats, I put on minimal make-up. I was just going to have a nice time with the girls, regain some ground with them and totally forget about men in general.

We decided to go to a rom-com, certainly not something we could get any guys to go to—at least not any guys we knew. And that probably included André, I thought, who seemed pretty masculine to me, but just not in an obvious macho way like someone else I knew. Oops, wasn't going there. I turned my attention to the movie, which was light and funny, just what I needed tonight.

‘You know,' I said to Lisa, ‘this is nice, just being with you girls.' I passed her some hot buttered popcorn.

‘Yeah,' she said, taking a handful, ‘sometimes simple is good.'

‘Shh,' said Kirsty and she took a sip of her diet Coke, a big concession for her as usually she didn't take any soft drinks.

Afterwards we decided to go for a coffee at the Coffee Club around the corner, which stayed open later than the other local cafés. Finding a comfortable booth that had a good view of the rest of the place, we ordered and then sat down.

‘Can you believe that customer in the Deli today?' Kirsty said, sweeping her blond hair back with a hand and leaning forward.

‘Why? What happened?' I asked.

‘He wanted 100g of ham, that's hardly a slice, and 180g of jarlesberg. Not worth even cutting. I gave him a look, I can tell you.' Kirsty took things like that almost personally and she was one of the most persuasive workers we had. Customers often came away with more purchases than they had intended after she gave them the benefit of one of her megawatt smiles and hard sells on the cheeses and meats on offer. It was why Bob kept her in the Deli. He wasn't stupid. If she ever did go into sales on a bigger scale, she'd make a fortune in commission.

‘Not to mention someone knocked over the display of Cup-a-Soups I spent ages arranging,' Lisa complained.

‘What about the line after line of customers I served today? My feet were killing me by the end of the shift and I hardly had time to even go to the washroom,' I added, not to be outdone.

‘Working on the till is tiring,' Lisa conceded.

‘But at least you get to meet some interesting people,' I said, thinking of the day I'd met André. ‘Plus, you get to see what they buy. It says a lot about people.' I thought again about the differences in purchases between Zach and André. That, if anything, emphasised the difference
between the two of them. I had been right to let Zach go. We were moving in completely different directions.

Our orders came and I sipped the skinny cappuccino, which I hoped would make up for the buttered popcorn I was beginning to feel I'd had far too much of. We had lapsed into a comfortable silence, when some more customers came in. It wasn't very crowded tonight, being a weeknight. I looked up casually to see who it was, and nearly choked on my coffee.

Zach, looking completely hot in a fitted black shirt and tight jeans, came in with a very slim, petite girl with jet black hair and Angelina Jolie lips.

Lisa noticed at the same time I did. ‘Who's that? Don't tell me it's another one of his sisters.'

‘Don't think so,' I managed to say.

‘No, not by the way he has his arm around her waist,' Kirsty added.

Zach happened to look in our direction and gave a cool nod before he turned his back on us and led his date to a corner out of our line of vision.

‘Still want an introduction?' I asked Kirsty, half joking. A part of me would have loved to go over there and ruin their
tête à tête
(the French phrase seemed so apt for what I was sure was happening right now). Another part of me felt like I was in an elevator that had just crashed down twenty floors at the speed of light.

‘Don't think they'd welcome any intrusion at the moment,' Kirsty said. ‘Did I think he was interested in you? Sorry, Beth. He clearly only has eyes for her.'

I said nothing, but thought that could have been me if I had played my cards right. Only last night he had been at my house and if I had said the right thing, perhaps we would be together right now.

But who was I kidding? Zach probably had a string of girlfriends that he kept on standby, and I would have just been one more. I put my coffee cup down with a slam, suddenly feeling very depressed.

‘Oh well,' Kirsty shrugged, ‘he was probably out of my league anyway.'

‘What do you mean, out of your league?' I looked at her in surprise.

‘He's probably into more educated chicks if he's doing French and all. And he clearly has the looks to get anyone he wants.'

It was amazing how different people's outlooks could be. Never in a million years would I have imagined that Zach Mills was into ‘educated chicks'. He had been interested in me, sort of, hadn't he? And there was no way anyone could call me educated, even if I was into all things French.

‘We should probably go,' I said, ‘work in the morning and all that.'

‘Yeah,' Lisa said, ‘I'm getting tired and tomorrow is late night shopping.' She groaned.

We gathered our things, got up and headed for the exit at the front of the shop. Zach and his girlfriend were over in the corner, probably gazing into each other's eyes. Other than a quick sideways glance to see where he was, I wasn't going to look any further, that was for sure.

But life is unkind. There had been a spillage on the floor and I just happened to step in it in my most slippery shoes. Of course, I was so caught up in trying to ignore Zach that I hadn't seen the little yellow sign that told me the floor was wet. In less time than it takes to blink I had slipped and was on my backside, right in front of, wouldn't you know it, Zach and Miss Pouty
Lips. Zach jumped up and gave me a hand. There isn't a shade of red deeper than the colour my face must have been at that moment.

‘You okay?' he said.

I scrambled to my feet, ‘Yeah, thanks. I'm fine.'

When he saw I was all right, he gave me a look of amusement that said it all. ‘I seem to be in the habit of rescuing you.'

‘Slippery floor,' I mumbled, stating the obvious. ‘Thanks again. Please don't let me keep you from your date.' She was looking at me as if I was something she stepped in on the pavement. Ridiculous, that's what I looked like and I knew it.

Lisa and Kirsty closed their open mouths and came to my rescue. ‘Come on. Let's get you to your car.' Kirsty took charge of the situation and led me out the door as if Zach didn't even exist. I loved her in that moment and forgave everything she ever said or thought about me.

Once outside, I groaned loudly. ‘I can't believe I could be so stupid. What must I have looked like?'

‘It could happen to anyone,' Lisa said kindly.

‘But it was bad timing,' said practical Kirsty. ‘Never mind. He doesn't matter. He's just a guy. Don't stress. Even now he's probably staring into the eyes of Miss Lipsy Titsy and not giving you a second thought.'

I giggled, and suddenly we were all laughing. I felt better. I might have looked like an idiot to Zach Mills, but at least I had my friends back.

Saturday morning and I was making a little
ragoût
of lamb, baby potatoes, carrots and pumpkin for dinner tonight when Mum and Dad would be home. I had the weekend off, rare for me, so I was going to make the most of it. I planned on popping out to the markets in Eumundi to get some fresh fruit and croissants from the little organic bakery there after I had finished the stew. If the weather held, I might even pack my bikini and head to the beach for a quick swim in the afternoon. Mum and Dad weren't getting home until around five or six so I had plenty of time.

On my way there, I turned up the radio full blast, mainly to keep my thoughts from drifting back to that disastrous night when I'd slipped in front of Zach and his girlfriend at the Coffee Club. My face still burned remembering it. I didn't think I'd ever be able to face Zach again. Now I was hoping he would
never
go back to French class. But what bothered me even more (and this was a surprise to me) was seeing him with another girl. I had thought he was interested in me, at least a little. But it seemed Zach had moved on quickly. Or maybe he just liked to play the field. Whatever. I wasn't sure if it was my ego or something else that was damaged right now. All I knew was that it hurt to think about it—and this damn radio wasn't helping one bit.

Saturday mornings were busy at the markets, even though, at nearly noon, the crowds were thinning. I made my purchases quickly and decided to go for a coffee, when I saw an Isolde Interiors store on the main street. On impulse, I ducked inside. Perhaps I'd see something nice to buy Mum for Mother's Day. The shop was small but stylish, going for an autumn theme with gold and orange pillows and scarlet throws. The young sales assistant shot me a hopeful smile but I preempted her question by saying, ‘Just having a browse thanks,' so she politely withdrew and left me alone. I was debating whether to choose a small coloured glass vase or a set of place mats with Impressionist reproductions on them, when I heard a voice behind me say, ‘Beth?'

I turned and saw Charlotte Mills, immaculate in grey trousers and a pink tailored blouse.

‘Charlotte, what a surprise! So you're here again visiting?' I managed to say. She was the last person I expected to see, but at least it wasn't Zach—though I was pretty sure he wouldn't be caught dead in a shop like this.

‘I had a free weekend so I thought I would fly up. I love to get home when I can. How are you?'

‘Good, great,' I said, trying to sound perky. No way did I want her telling Zach she'd seen me and that I had looked depressed.

‘Hope you're keeping that brother of mine out of trouble,' she said and smiled.

‘We're just in French class together, that's all,' I said, hoping she would get the hint that there was zero going on between us.

‘Oh, then it was very nice of you to give him that help to catch up,' she said. There was a look on Charlotte's face that said she clearly didn't believe me, but she wasn't going to push it. I
wondered what Zach had said, or not said, to give her that impression. ‘So, what are you doing this morning?' she said, in an effort to change the subject.

‘Just picking up a few things from the market. I was about to have a quick coffee before I headed off again.'

Charlotte glanced at her watch, ‘I'm due for a break now. Mind if I join you?'

What could I say but, ‘Sure, that'd be nice.'

She glanced over her shoulder at the assistant and said, ‘Mandy, I'll be out for a while. Back in around half an hour if anyone calls.' She turned back to me, ‘I'll just get my bag from the back. Won't be a minute.'

As we walked to a nearby café, I said, puzzled, ‘Do you work there? I thought you lived in Sydney.'

Charlotte seemed flustered. ‘I do, live in Sydney that is. Also I guess you could say I work at the store, from time to time. I know the owner.'

Something clicked inside me as I remembered Lauren's text about the Mills family. I looked at Charlotte, ‘You are the owner, aren't you?'

She coloured, ‘Well, to be precise I guess you could say that Zach and I are major shareholders and manage the company that owns the chain. Our parents started it—it was actually named after our mum, Isolde. When they died, we took over. But Zach likes to keep it quiet and lives a low-key, normal life—except that I think he works too hard sometimes. I gather he never told you what he does.'

I shook my head, realising I had never even asked him. We reached a coffee shop and went inside. After we placed our orders, we found a table and sat down. I was still in shock. Zach Mills owned one of the biggest chains of specialty shops in Australia. Yet he lived in a modest brick house, drove a ute and had a dog named Dave.

Charlotte continued, ‘Zach manages the business here in Queensland, where Isolde Interiors originated, and I look after the southern states, where there are fewer shops. Of course, we have other people to help us, but we like to keep a hands-on approach. It was something we learned from our parents.'

‘I see,' was all I could manage to say.

Charlotte tilted her head to the side. ‘I'm sure Zach didn't deliberately keep this from you. I just assumed you knew. My brother is such a private person and he hates all the trappings of a privileged life. That's why he bought his present house a few years ago, rather than live in our parents' house. We mainly use that for offices now or hire it out occasionally for business conventions. Gee, I hope this doesn't spoil anything between you two.' She looked concerned.

‘Nothing to spoil,' I said.

Charlotte shook her head, ‘That's not the impression I got from Zach. But, I shouldn't interfere, I guess. Blame it on Big Sister Syndrome.'

‘I know all about that. I've got one too,' I said. ‘A big sister, that is.' But that was about the only thing we had in common. I certainly didn't have a multimillion dollar empire to run.

‘I'm sure she isn't as meddlesome as I can be,' Charlotte said.

‘Much worse … not that you are, I'm sure,' I said. ‘But she means well.'

‘As do I, although Zach doesn't always see it that way,' she said and grinned.

Our coffee came and we started to talk about other things. Charlotte told me how though she was based in Sydney, she really missed the laid-back lifestyle here and came back as often as she could. ‘And not just to help out Zach. I have a lot of friends here still and it's always nice to get back and see them.'

I told her a little about my dream to go to France, but not quite the extent of my obsession. I didn't want her to think I was a freak or anything.