Operation Valentine (8 page)

Owen's mouth twitched as Sarah's big blue eyes widened further. ‘
What?
' she asked.

With a roll of her eyes, Joanna mouthed, ‘Respect yourself,' and walked off.

‘What was that all about?' Sarah demanded as soon as she was out of earshot.

Owen drew his pizza closer to himself. ‘Don't worry about her. She thinks I'm romancing you while I've got another woman waiting at home for me. Not completely improbable, but not true in this case.'

Sarah frowned. ‘I don't get it.'

‘Joanna is big into women sticking up for themselves and a whole lot of other causes too. I don't think she approves of me.'

‘No, no. That much is obvious. What I don't get is why she thinks Chloe is another woman you're seeing. Doesn't she know you have a daughter?'

Owen picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite. ‘No.'

‘Owen, do any of your staff know you have a daughter?'

‘No.'

‘Why not?'

‘I just don't think it's any of their business.'

‘Maybe not but it's kind of a big thing about yourself to keep concealed on purpose. Why would you do that?'

‘To protect Chloe.'

‘From what? Your staff aren't a threat to her.'

Good point.

He took a swig of beer as he considered her question. Maybe he was too protective of his daughter. But it had been a reflex action since he'd become a single dad – to create a wide perimeter around his child and keep the fence electrified at all times. He just didn't want anyone to get close enough to hurt her.

Like her mother had.

‘Owen?'

He looked up to find Sarah studying him with her hands folded neatly in her lap in that restful way he found both alluring and maddening. He may enjoy being her friend but that didn't mean he had to confide everything in her. Some things were still personal. He stared down at the untouched pizza on her plate.

‘Are you going to eat that?'

‘In a minute, we're having a conversation here.'

‘So I noticed,' he groaned. ‘And I thought women were supposed to be multi-taskers.'

‘Not when it's important.' She shook her head. ‘And this is.'

He didn't know what he was more annoyed at, her astuteness or her unwanted concern. Irritated, he stopped eating. ‘No, it isn't.'

‘Yes, it is,' she said calmly. ‘Otherwise you're pretending to be someone around your staff and then a completely different person around Chloe.'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

‘When I was talking to her on Thursday she said you haven't had a girlfriend since her mother and that you're really shy.'

His heart lightened and he grinned. ‘Well, that's good news. I don't think it would benefit her to know what I really get up to when I spend all night at the bar.'

‘What about your mother? Does she know?'

He baulked. ‘Are you kidding me? She thinks I'm working. You don't tell your mother that sort of thing.'

‘Wow.' She raised her eyebrows. ‘You are a complete liar.'

‘I am not,' he said crossly. ‘Concealment to protect the ones you love is not lying.'

‘Don't you find being a different person for different people exhausting?'

He shrugged. ‘To tell you the truth, I don't even notice it.'

‘Well, I would find it exhausting. I mean, don't you get to be yourself with anyone?'

‘Of course.'

‘Who?'

‘You,' he admitted, and then immediately wished he hadn't said it. It was true, but that didn't mean he should tell her. After all, he'd only just realised himself and wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Nor did he dare ponder too deeply.

‘Me?' she asked. ‘I'm the only person you're yourself with?'

All of sudden the air around them seemed to grow heavy like fog. He felt a tightness in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He picked up a slice of pizza, refusing to meet her eyes. ‘Is that a problem?'

‘No, I guess not.' She bit her lip. ‘I just think there comes a point when you need to let go.'

‘Let go of what?'

‘Your distrust.' She shrugged. ‘This may be jumping to conclusions, but that ex-wife of yours must have pulled a real number on you. What happened when she left?'

His back stiffened. Something in his face must have shown his anger at being asked such a direct question because she immediately apologised.

‘Sorry. I shouldn't have pried. You don't have to tell me.'

‘I wasn't going to,' he couldn't help but retort.

She looked down at her lap, chewing on her lower lip. ‘I just thought you might want to talk to someone about it. You don't seem like the kind of person who opens up unless you're asked to. It must be hard keeping your feelings bottled up like that for years on end.'

She was hitting far too close to the bone and the concern in her voice wasn't helping either. He felt like a corpse on an autopsy table. The doctor poking his insides was remarking to the nurse, ‘Yes, I believe it's been rotting in here for quite some time.'
Damn her!

Why couldn't she keep her opinions to herself?

‘That's a pretty big assumption,' he said curtly. ‘Just because I've admitted that I'm myself around you, doesn't give you the right to judge me.'

‘I know,' she immediately apologised. ‘I'm sorry, I should never have mentioned your wife.'

But even as her eyelashes hid those beautiful eyes of hers while she looked down at her meal, he was not satisfied. By admitting anything to her, he had unwittingly given her a power over him that he had vowed never to give to another women after Amanda had died. Sarah may not be saying anything right now but she was certainly thinking it. Her face, God help her, was such an open book he could tell that her mile-a-minute mind was still ticking away. He was positive she was going to try this again later. That knowledge made him pre-empt her, perhaps unwisely.

‘Did it ever occur to you that the reason I don't try to be someone else around you is because I don't rate your opinion?'

Her eyes flicked up again, her lips parting on a barely perceptible gasp. The hurt in her face affected him like a physical slap and he regretted his hasty words immediately.

‘Oh, well, I guess that makes sense,' she said, her face closing up like a shop front. He ground his teeth against the retraction that wanted to leap out of his mouth.

She glanced at her watch. ‘You know what? It's getting late. I should probably go.' She picked her handbag up off the ground.

Shit.

As she rose out of her chair, his fingers closed tightly over his knees.

‘Sarah, wait. You haven't touched your meal.'

Her eyes flashed. ‘Well, I guess if you'd bothered to ask me, you would know that I don't like pepperoni.' She touched her index finger to her chin. ‘But wait, that's right, my opinion doesn't matter to you, does it?'

‘Sarah, that's not what I –'

‘Say hi to Chloe for me, will you?' she tossed over her shoulder as she walked away.

Good one, Owen. Good one.

She hadn't been to The Blue Saloon since her last date. Luckily, both Mia and Amy had been too busy to meet up mid-week – a circumstance for which Sarah was grateful. After her last conversation with Owen, she had absolutely no desire to run into him any time soon, and getting his help with picking someone else on Soulmates.com was definitely out of the question. All his choices so far had been unequivocally
terrible
. And now she had to wonder whether he'd been doing it on purpose. For some reason, she'd assumed his attitude towards her was different to that of other women. Yet now she knew she was just a slightly different form of entertainment.

Wow
.

He must really enjoy laughing at her naivety.

Nonetheless, the basic facts still remained. The Valentine's Day ball was two weeks and five days away. Mr Penwick was getting crankier and Lucy all the smugger. She still had no clue who she was going to take as her date, only that she had better find them fast.

So on Wednesday she got back onto Soulmates.com to continue Operation Valentine. This time by herself.

She chose a man by the name of Hamish Jones. From his profile he seemed ideal. There was a gorgeous photo of him sitting on the beach with a brown kelpie in his
arms and a huge grin on his face. He had that approachable, endearing look that evoked trust. He was also tanned and fit, which helped. She could tell he spent a lot of time outdoors – something she would like to do more of. Maybe he could help her with that. His written profile indicated that he was a nature-loving, vegetarian surfer, who believed in world peace. How relaxing did that sound? Under ‘occupation' there was a long list too, from bell boy to car washer. This guy seemed to be a bit of an adventurer, which she had no issue with. Stable and boring hadn't worked for her so far. Why not go out with someone a little different from her usual type?

This time she turned up for the date early, choosing a seat by the window but facing the door so she could see him walk in when he arrived. She did not look once at the bar. Owen's whereabouts was not her concern, unless he approached her to apologise. As far as she could see, that was the only way back into her good books. Not that she was even sure she wanted him there. Being Owen Black's friend was turning out to be a far more complicated position than she had first supposed.

Just as she was finishing that thought, a tall blond stranger appeared in the double doorway of The Blue Saloon. He was dressed a little more casually than her other dates but his shorts and cotton t-shirt were a refreshing change. In her opinion it showed that he was down to earth. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't have the body to pull it off. Lifting a hand to catch his attention, their eyes met across the room. She could not fault the connection, it was magnetic.

He walked over to her. ‘You must be Sarah. I'm Hamish.'

‘Great to meet you.' She stood up to shake his hand and then sat back down. She watched appreciatively as he folded his big, lean body into the chair opposite her.

‘You're very pretty'.' He grinned boyishly.

She giggled. ‘Thank you. You're very handsome.' She felt her face heat under his steady gaze.

‘Do you come here often?' he asked.

‘All the time. What about you?'

‘Not much. Only to meet girls like you.'

She blushed again.

This is going well. Very well indeed.

A shadow crossed their table, breaking her mood. She looked up to find Owen standing there with a notepad and pen.

What is he doing? He never waits tables.

His gaze was so intense that it took her a second to find her voice. ‘Er … we're not ordering food yet.'

‘Then I'll take your drink order.'

She pursed her lips. ‘I thought you had to order drinks up at the bar.'

‘We're trying to spruce up the service a bit.' He tapped his notepad with his pen. ‘We've been losing customers lately.'

‘Really.' She folded her arms. ‘That doesn't surprise me. I've found some of your staff members rather rude and insensitive.'

He stopped tapping. Those dark eyes enveloped her like a thick, warm blanket. ‘May I apologise for that.'

Her stomach flipped, despite her earlier convictions to remain unmoved. ‘We both know mere words aren't going to change anything.'

‘Then I will tell upper management you require action as well,' he suggested.

‘Upper management doesn't care about my opinion,' she snapped.

‘Then upper management is a fool.'

Her breath caught in her throat.

Stay mad at him, Sarah. Stay mad. For goodness sake, you can't accept an apology loosely disguised as table service. It's much less than you deserve!

Her date coughed awkwardly. ‘Can I have a Coke please'?'

‘Of course.' To her relief, Owen lifted his gaze from her to focus on Hamish.

Free of his intense stare, she was able to think clearly again. ‘I'll have a cranberry and lime sparkler,' she said firmly, hoping her tone implied that his apology –
if
you could call it that – had not yet been accepted.

‘Coming right up,' Owen responded. ‘If there's anything else you need,' he didn't continue until she looked up to catch his discreet eye-dart at Hamish, just let me know.'

What is he implying? That I'll need rescuing again?

Her back stiffened and she glared at him. ‘That won't be necessary.'

‘Well, just in case –'

‘I won't need anything else from you,' she refuted firmly.

He inclined his head with an amused smile she did not trust and left her side. She watched with dissatisfaction as he weaved his way back through the tables towards the bar. Waitressing definitely didn't suit him, she decided sourly. His command of the room was too apparent and that pad and pencil looked out of place. He hadn't even written their order down, so what was the point of it?

A throat cleared opposite her. ‘Is everything okay?'

Her gaze snapped back to the man in front of her. The man she was
supposed
to be here with. ‘I'm sorry. What were you saying?'

‘Nothing actually,' he admitted. ‘I was just watching you stare at the waiter.'

‘I wasn't staring, I was
glaring
,' she informed him. ‘There's a big difference. But enough about him.' She waved the topic away. ‘Let's talk about you. Where are you working at the moment? Your profile seemed to suggest you're good at a lot of different things.'

He smiled indulgently at her. ‘Yeah, I've tried many different career pathways and have loved none of them. Two years ago I had to sit down and take stock of what I wanted to do with my life.'

‘And did you come to a decision?'

‘Oh yeah.' He nodded adamantly. ‘I decided that working just wasn't for me.'

She blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?'

‘It just doesn't float my boat, if you know what I mean. It's tiring, it's tedious and most of the time you have to deal with people you wouldn't otherwise hang out with. So I decided why force it? I mean, life is too short.'

‘But …' Her eyes widened. ‘What do you do for money?'

His lips curled. ‘Unemployment benefits, I admit, aren't that great. But then again, I don't need much. You see, I don't really pay for accommodation or food because I live with my mum.'

Her eyes widened even further. ‘And she … doesn't mind?'

‘My mum?' He scoffed, swatting his hand. ‘My mum is awesome. She loves having me around, cooking for me, washing my clothes, cleaning my car.'

‘Cleaning your car!'

‘Yeah, until I sold it last week for extra cash.' He lowered his voice confidingly. ‘By the way, I may need to borrow some money later depending on how many drinks we have. I wasn't sure how much fun we were going to have tonight, if you know what I mean?'

She was very afraid she did. Luckily, however, she wasn't called upon to respond to this remark, as at this point her cocktail and his Coke arrived. It was Joanna who had brought it over rather than Owen. She placed the bill on the table between them.

‘Er …' Hamish looked up at the waitress. ‘Could we have separate bills please? I only had a Coke and, no offence,' he directed this second remark at Sarah, ‘but my drink is only three dollars and yours is eleven bucks. There's no way we're going Dutch on this.'

Joanna gave Sarah another long look not dissimilar to the ‘respect yourself,' one she had given her a few days ago. ‘Sure,' she said, and swiped the bill off the counter before walking off.

In the awkward silence that followed, Hamish's phone rang. Sarah was relieved. She had no idea where or even how to move the conversation forward from there.

‘Oh hi, Mum,' Hamish said into his mobile. ‘Clothes? What clothes? Oh those ones. Sorry about that. Yeah, they're dirty, they can go in the wash.' Another pause. ‘No, I probably won't be home for dinner tonight. My date is going really well.' He gave Sarah a suggestive wink across the table. ‘She's really nice, and pretty too.'

Sarah gave him a weak smile before taking a huge gulp of cranberry and lime …

‘Do you want to speak to her?'

… And then nearly spat it out.

He held out his phone.

‘Oh no, I … I couldn't.' She tried to wave her hand in protest but he only shoved the phone further into her face.

‘Go on. She won't bite.'

Gingerly, she took the mobile and held it to her ear. ‘Er, hello.'

‘Hello, dear.' The voice on the other end trembled with age. ‘My name is Eloise. Lovely to meet you.'

‘Nice to meet you too.'

‘Now I'm sure you're very nervous, first date and all, so I won't keep you long. Just wanted to let you know that I'm so pleased that Hamish is getting out and about. He's such a sweet boy and really is wasted at home with his mum.'

‘Er, thanks.'

‘Just a few things though, dear. He's allergic to strawberries. He has to have water concurrently with every meal and don't let him stay up later than midnight because he just can't function the next day. You know how it is.'

‘Oh, I –'

‘Have fun.' With this cheerful instruction she rang off. Sarah pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it in disbelief.

‘Sweet, isn't she?' Hamish commented and took another sip of his drink.

Sarah handed him back his phone. ‘Will you excuse me for a minute?'

‘Sure.' Hamish took another happy sip of Coke.

She got up and headed straight for the bar, where Owen was standing watching her lazily while wiping glasses. His lip quirked as she knocked desperately on the bar with a not so subtle, ‘Psssst! I need you.'

He put the glass and tea towel down with all the speed of an art connoisseur perusing the room. ‘You need me?' He raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought you said you wouldn't.'

‘Forget what I said'.'

‘I can't just forget what you said.' He shook his head. ‘Not when your opinion means so much to me.'

‘Stop it,' she said, biting her lip against the laugh that wanted to escape. ‘I haven't forgiven you on that front yet.'

‘You haven't forgiven me but you need me.' He rubbed his chin. ‘So that would make you … desperate.'

She glanced back at Hamish, who appeared to be putting sugar sachets into the front pocket of his t-shirt. She swung her gaze back to Owen and hissed tightly, ‘Yes.'

He folded his arms. ‘What has that poor man done to be kicked to the kerb so quicky?'

‘Nothing as such,' she whispered harshly. ‘He's just a stingy, chauvinistic, dole-bludging mama's boy who's allergic to my favourite fruit. Trust me, it's not going to work out. I have to end my date with him.' She leaned heavily on the counter so that he could hear her lowered tones a little better. ‘And I know you can help me.'

‘Really? You know that?'

‘Well,' she said rationally, ‘you were so good at getting rid of Tom. I thought you might have some ideas.'

‘I have a few.' He copied her pose by also leaning against the counter so that now their faces, much to her disconcertment, were mere inches apart. ‘But it'll cost you.'

Her eyelids grew heavy, her body lethargic, but somehow she managed to find her voice. ‘I'm not going to kiss you.'

A self-satisfied smile stretched his mouth. ‘Why would you think I was going to ask for that?'

‘Er …' Embarrassment choked her as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. ‘It's not that I … I wasn't … I would never …'

‘Calm down.' He laughed, standing up straight again. ‘What I wanted was your forgiveness for what I said the last time we saw each other.'

She paused. ‘Really?'

‘Yes.'

‘All right fine, you're forgiven but –'

‘Wait here,' he interrupted her. ‘This won't take a minute.'

She gasped in annoyance, first at his interruption of what she deemed a significant moment and secondly for his complete confidence that Hamish would give her up that willingly. ‘It won't be easy, you know',' she protested. ‘He really likes me.'

‘Is that so?'

‘Yes.' She folded her arms with some dignity. ‘He thinks I'm pretty.'

‘You're not pretty,' he said, turning to go. But even as her jaw and arms slackened in chagrin, he threw over his shoulder, ‘You're beautiful.'

She didn't know whether to be irritated or flattered as she watched his broad shoulders confidently navigate the room before arriving at Hamish's table. Much to her disappointment, Owen had his back to her so she couldn't see his face or even attempt to lip read. But his stance was certainly relaxed enough – one elbow rested lightly on the top of her recently vacated chair, while his left leg crooked casually in front of his right.