Hold On to Me (25 page)

‘Yes I most definitely can.' Stella kicked out her legs and rested them on a pillow on her coffee table, waving off Summer's pleading. She had a glass of sauvignon blanc in one hand, her first taste of wine in a week, and the rest of the bottle in the fridge. She planned to finish it all during the evening. The evening she'd planned to spend alone.

Summer propped her fists on her hips. ‘I'm going to say it.'

‘Say what?'

‘Well … it's just that … you're turning into a nanna.'

Stella chuckled, more at the concerned look on her friend's face than the accusation. ‘See these feet? The ones with the pretty red toenails? I've been on them eight hours a day since the 27th. They ache. I'm too scared to look at them in case I have cankles. I don't actually believe I can feel my little toes any more. They are begging for mercy, Summer.'

Summer plonked herself next to Stella and checked her watch. ‘I simply refuse to let you sit here and wallow. You
need
to come to the Middle Point pub tonight and have a few champagnes. I haven't missed a New Year's Eve there since Ry bought it. It's become the thing. You can't miss out on the thing.'

Stella reached out to pat Summer's arm. ‘Really, Summer, I'm exhausted. I know it's a great night. I was there last year. But you know that the holidays are the busiest time of year for me, right?'

Summer eyed her friend suspiciously. ‘Of course I know that. But that's not the real reason, is it? Something's going on with you. You haven't been the same since Christmas. You've been all mysterious and … I don't know, hiding away here in your cottage at night like a turtle in a shell. Since I came back from Mum's, you haven't wanted to do anything. What's going on?'

Stella looked into her glass, swirled her wine around. She'd shared a lot with Summer over the years, and had even told her a little about Luca in the beginning. But she didn't want to tell her what had happened between them. She was still trying to figure it out in her own head.

‘Nothing's going on. Really. It's just been full on, with the fire and the shop and …'

And Luca. She'd been thinking way too much about Luca Morelli. There was a part of him in every corner of her renovated business. Every time a customer commented on the lovely sunshine streaming into her shop through the new skylight, she was reminded it had been his idea. It was the place they'd stood, her hand in his, and stared up at the brilliant blue sky. It was the first time she'd let someone help her with her business since Sydney. The first time she'd been open enough to see someone else's idea for what it was, instead of as an attempt to control her, trick her. The first time in years she'd let someone else crack open that armour of hers.

And all this thinking had to stop. She hadn't seen Luca since Boxing Day, which was almost a week ago now. Stella felt it like a withdrawal after the close and constant contact they'd had with each other during the renovation. She hadn't realised how much she'd enjoyed him, until she didn't have his company.

But their business together was over and there was no need for them to be communicating with each other any more. The distance between them said it all, really. They'd clearly been on the same page as far as their night together went, too. One night of hot sex. A resolution, the exclamation point on their working relationship. It had been fun: she didn't want to lose sight of that. But that's all it could ever be.

‘And?' Summer enquired with a quizzical expression. ‘What else has been going on?'

Summer was right. She had to stop thinking so much and just … well, not think so much. What would it hurt to down a few champagnes and see in the New Year with her friends? Stella put her wine glass down on the coffee table. ‘You know what? You've convinced me. I'm coming with you.'

Summer's face lit up. ‘You are?'

‘Just let me change into something more appropriate.'

‘You always look appropriate,' Summer teased. ‘You won't regret this, Stella.'

As she walked to her bedroom, Summer's voice grew louder. ‘You need to have fun. Julia promised there would be dancing. I'm dragging you onto that dance floor tonight and I don't care if your little toes hurt. You got that?'

The lights of the Middle Point pub twinkled in the twilight as Summer pulled into a park on the street out the front. She twisted her keys from the ignition and reached for her handbag.

‘Thanks for being the designated driver tonight, Summer. You are a doll.'

She waved a hand. ‘Fair's fair. I dragged you out. Plus you drove last time we had a girls' night out.'

‘God.' Stella had to think. ‘When was that?'

Summer smiled as she undid her seatbelt. ‘July. When we went to Adelaide. Remember that hotel? I've never seen a bath so big.'

They'd both shut up shop, midweek in midwinter, and taken off for three precious days of fun in the city. Stella had spent time window shopping and picking up some ideas from the bigger retailers and some particular boutiques that she kept an eye on, so it wasn't totally a holiday. She'd checked out some of the European clothing retailers who'd opened stores in the capital and bought herself some expensive winter boots in the sales. They'd gone to Adelaide's hippest new restaurants, fended off two extremely keen but slightly sleazy men, and sung karaoke until they were hoarse.

‘It's a date for next July. Okay?' Stella laced her arm through Summer's and they crossed the road to the pub. They could hear the party from the footpath and walked right past the heavy wooden front door and took the back way, down the lane at the side of the historic stone building to The Market at the rear. The whole place looked so different from the way it was on Sunday mornings, when stalls with crafts and produce and books filled the space and the barbeque aromas of bacon and eggs on the grill tempted market goers.

Tonight, candles flickered in the fading light at each table and the area was lit by strings of fairy lights looped from one market umbrella to the next. The sight of them reminded Stella of the photo Luca had sent her, and for a brief moment she wondered what he was doing. He was out with his friends, no doubt, some names she'd heard him mention a few times. Other young people. They were probably in a new pop-up bar in Adelaide somewhere, enjoying hipster meals and young-people company.

She shook off the thought. There was enough delicious food at the Middle Point pub to satisfy even the most critical gourmet. Pickled octopus, local cheeses and sliced meats, olives from McLaren Vale and locally baked bread. Platters of gourmet delights were set on every table and Stella could see the sparkle of glasses at the makeshift bar by the rear wall.

Stella had given herself a leave pass for the night and she needed one. The food, the wine and the company would help her remember who she was and where she was and how far she'd come. She grabbed Summer's hand, manoeuvred her towards the bar and waved when she saw Lizzie and Dan smiling at them.

‘Hello, Style by Stella,' Lizzie called before rounding the bar to hug her.

‘Hi, Lizzie.'

‘This looks incredible,' Summer said, cocking her head at the party.

‘I love our New Year's Eve tradition. Drinks here, the Victor Harbor fireworks off in the distance. It's magical.'

Stella and Summer graciously accepted Dan's offer of champagne, and Stella was momentarily distracted by the bubbles sparkling in the twinkling lights. The night of the official reopening of her shop, Luca had handed her a glass to settle her nerves before her big speech. She never quite figured out how he knew that she'd lost her notes and that a glass of bubbly was exactly the right way to get her to relax.

Then Stella wondered why every damn thing seemed to remind her of Luca Morelli.

She turned her full attention to Dan. The tall, dark and handsome temporary barman grinned at her. Lucky Lizzie, she thought with a smile to herself. Perhaps she had something else in common with the pub's manager: a particular fondness for Men Who Can Do Things With Their Hands. And tall, dark and handsome. And … oh, she really had to stop it.

Dan winked at Stella. ‘You ladies look seriously dehydrated. Get that into you.'

Stella sipped generously and the bubbles tickled her lips. ‘Yessir. Tonight I'm doing as I'm told, aren't I, Summer?'

Summer tsked. ‘You know I had to practically beg and plead to get her here. She was curled up on the couch an hour ago.'

‘It's true. But when Summer accused me of turning into a nanna, I had to fight back. So I put on my most gorgeous frock and here I am.'

Lizzie reached over and touched the silky fabric on the skirt. ‘That is a gorgeous dress.'

‘Why, thank you.' Stella did a little curtsy. It was another vintage find, one she'd brought home with her from Sydney. It was knee-length red taffeta, with a cinched waist, round neck and capped sleeves. It had a full skirt that flounced on her knees as she walked. She knew the red worked well against her black hair and dramatic red lips, and when she wore it she felt a little like a much taller and broader Audrey Hepburn. Maybe two Audrey Hepburns put together.

‘You ready for some dancing?' Julia beamed as she asked the question.

‘I even wore my flat shoes,' and Stella offered up one foot to prove it.

Stella danced and danced and danced. She sang and sidestepped and boogied and bumped butts with Summer during a retro disco track, and eventually Julia, Lizzie and Anna joined them on the dance floor. Three of the five women had men standing by the bar, drinking beer and trying to appear as if they weren't watching every move their partners were making. Stella noticed the critical appraisal and felt slightly deflated that there was no one watching her dance. She turned that emotion into more vigorous dance moves, twisting and jumping up and down on the spot, until she'd danced away all the confusion she'd been feeling about her sexy one-night stand, her increasing sexual tension and the extra worries and responsibilities she'd been burdened with during the previous couple of months.

She sang along at the top of her lungs, her feet having touched every inch of the makeshift wooden dance floor, and attempted to drag Summer back into the crowd when her friend admitted defeat.

‘There's only fifteen minutes to go until New Year,' Stella shouted into Summer's ear above the music.

‘I have a blister and I'm completely sober.'

‘Now who's the nanna?' Stella laughed and spun around and around, letting her skirt fly up with a swish. She closed her eyes, loving the giddy, half-drunk feeling in her head that finally dissolved everything else she'd been thinking lately. About her shop. About her past. About Morelli Constructions.

When she stopped and slowly opened her eyes with a laugh into the night sky, Summer had disappeared. Instead, Stella was face to face with Duncan.

‘Oh, shit. I mean, hello, Duncan.' Stella involuntarily reached out a hand to grasp his forearm, since the spinning and the night air and the champagne had left her a little woozy. Duncan's gaze immediately dropped to the spot where her fingers were clenched tightly around his arm, and judging by the quick smile on his face, he seemed to take her touch as some sort of sign. Stella tried to focus. Duncan had left the suit at home and was instead wearing dark jeans and a casual shirt, which made him look less like a management consultant and more like a scruffy guy who'd wandered in from the front bar. He looked pleasantly handsome. And he still did absolutely nothing for her.

He covered her hand with his and leant in close. ‘Hello, Stella. Can I get you a drink?'

‘Sure. Why not? Champagne, please.'

When Duncan returned, Stella followed him to a table. Her feet had finally given in and she had no idea where Summer was. She scanned the crowd but couldn't see her friend. As soon as the clock did the midnight thing, she wanted to be on her way home. She had to work in the morning. And this would be her final glass, or she would have a sore head when she had to open the shop.

‘So.' Duncan moved close. Checked out her red dress. ‘You look lovely tonight.'

‘Thank you.'

‘How have things been? I haven't see you in a while.'

‘Everything's good. Business is crazy for me at this time of year, that goes without saying.' Stella sipped her bubbles. ‘And what about you? How's your business?'

Duncan chuckled. ‘You still have no idea what I do, do you?'

‘No.' She smiled and clinked glasses with him.

‘I've been travelling a bit. Melbourne, Sydney. I only got back today.'

‘This time of year? Isn't everyone except me on holidays?'

‘I'm setting up some consulting for next year. This is a good time to get people.'

Stella felt weird and uncomfortable making small talk with Duncan. It wasn't that she didn't like him as a person. She did. He was good company and they'd had some fun times together. But now, all she could think about when she looked at him was another man altogether. She'd always known that she would never have that zing with Duncan.

That zing she'd had with Luca the minute he'd stepped into her shop.

‘It's nearly midnight,' Duncan said as he glanced at his watch.

‘Yes,' Stella said, hoping he didn't mean anything by the observation. ‘I wonder where Summer is?'

Luca followed the sound of the party down the small lane at the side of the pub, and made a beeline for the bar. He checked his watch. Five minutes to midnight. Two hours before, he'd been enjoying a fantastic Thai meal in Adelaide's Gouger Street with some guys he played soccer with, and their wives and girlfriends. He'd been flying solo. By choice. The food was great. The beer was ice cold. But it wasn't where he wanted to be.

He wanted to be back in Stella's bed. The past week had gone by in a blur, every night harder and harder to be without her. He'd made a start on his own renovation, half-heartedly filling a skip with the junk the previous owners had left in the small backyard, and he'd spent nights at his desk, trying to distract himself with planning out ideas for Anna and Joe's renovation. He hadn't wanted company, had made a lame excuse not to go to his parents' house for Wednesday night dinner, even though he knew Nonna would give him the double evil eye the next time he saw her. He couldn't be with his family when he was spending every spare minute thinking about having sex with Stella. Yeah, he'd been thinking about getting her naked and having sex. Okay, he was a guy. It wasn't complicated and it wasn't hearts and flowers and romantic bullshit. It was all about the sex. Wasn't it? They hadn't spoken in the past week. His texts had gone unanswered and he'd got the hint she wanted some space. So he'd given it to her, but he was about to boil over with frustration.