‘Thanks.’ Mel gazed down at her hands, where she was picking at her cuticles. ‘Amy? I know I’m asking a lot. And you can say no . . . but I wanted to know . . . did you still need someone to . . . ah . . .’ She raised her mocha-coloured eyes to Amy’s and bit her lip.
‘You want your job back?’ Amy asked gently, fighting the urge to immediately say yes, knowing all the reasons why giving in quickly was a bad idea.
‘Yeah.’
Amy abruptly pushed herself out of her chair, picked up a broom resting against the wall and began sweeping the already clean floor to stop her hands shaking. She hated, absolutely hated, this part of running a business. Confrontation had always been her sister’s specialty, not hers.
‘Amy?’
‘It’s been really hard, Mel.’ Amy kept her eyes on broom running across the floor. ‘If you’d left it any longer, I woulda had to advertise your job. Mrs Sadiq came in last week and I had to turn her away,’ she said, referring to one of her most loyal customers, a Somali matriarch who had been coming monthly for two years.
‘I’m sorry, Amy.’
Amy looked down at the scant pile of hair she’d swept up. ‘Yeah, I know you are, m’love. But you were sorry the other times too. I love you, but I need to know you’re not gonna do this to me again. Every time you and Kate split, this happens. You know, I was a bit worried when you two got together.’ Her eyes met Mel’s. She didn’t say any more, knowing full well Kate had her ear pressed to the door. In Perth’s small lesbian community, Kate had a reputation for being a jaded diva pillow queen, while Mel was in her first serious relationship after an extremely difficult coming-out to her conservative Kenyan family.
Mel nodded, her eyes darting to the connecting door at the back of the room.
‘I just need to know you two can keep your private life separate at work. If you have another fight, you’ve gotta sort it out at home. Not here. I know it’s hard, but you’re gonna have to. I’m running a business here. This is the last time. You understand, yeah?’
Mel nodded again, biting her lower lip, obviously trying not to cry. Amy’s tear ducts activated in sympathy.
‘Can you
promise
me this won’t happen again?’
The ensuing silence was only punctuated by the faint melody of Nat King Cole’s ‘Unforgettable’ from the record player.
‘I promise.’
Amy set the broom aside. ‘Alright. Welcome back.’ She held her hand up when Mel broke into a relieved smile. ‘But you’ve gotta stick to your word. I missed you too much this time. It’s not the same without you.’ She approached Mel, pulling her out of her chair and giving her a warm hug.
‘Thanks, Amy.’
‘You’re welcome, sweetie. Just please, please don’t let me down.’
‘Okay. I won’t,’ Mel said against Amy’s hair before stepping backwards. Unfortunately she stepped back into Gerald, who didn’t move a muscle. Mel landed on her backside with a thump.
‘He
is
an effective guard dog,’ Amy said in amazement, helping her reinstated employee to her feet. They were both chuckling as they checked that Gerald was alright when Kate reappeared.
‘So you gave her the job back?’ Kate demanded, looking from Mel to Amy expectantly.
‘Yes,’ Amy said.
Mel gave her a relieved grin. ‘When do you want me to start?’
‘You free this afternoon?’
‘I should be.’
‘Now would be a good time.’
‘Amy?’ Roslynn poked her head around the door. ‘You back, Mel?’
‘Yeah,’ Mel replied.
‘You needed me?’ Amy waved a hand to attract Roslynn’s attention again.
‘Oh, yeah. Um, while you were out a guy called and booked a last-minute appointment for five-thirty. I told him we closed then, but he said you wouldn’t mind.’
Amy frowned. ‘I kinda do. It’s been crazy busy this week, Ros. I need a break. I think we’re gonna have to cancel this one.’
‘Alright.’ Roslynn shrugged. ‘I’ve left his number for you if you want to do it personally, otherwise I will. His name is Ben something.’
‘Oh! That changes everything.’
Late that afternoon, Amy was humming to herself over the sound of her coffee machine when a warm mouth surrounded by bristly stubble kissed the point where her neck met her shoulder. She spun around, clutching her heart to find Ben standing behind her wearing a five o’clock shadow and a wicked smile.
‘I missed you.’ His words, clipped and incredibly sexy, reverberated up and down her spine a few times.
‘You scared me!’ Her pleased grin belied her words as she ate him up with her eyes. He was standing only a few inches away, close enough for her to smell his wonderful citrusy scent and too handsome for his own good in black jeans and a pale green jumper. She noticed he was holding a rectangular pale pink cardboard gift box in one hand.
‘Did I? So sorry.’ He didn’t look the slightest bit repentant. ‘Let me give you something to make up for it. Here.’
‘Thank you. What is it?’ Amy automatically took the box from his hands before looking down at it, stomach jittering.
‘Something naughty,’ Ben whispered, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on her half-open lips. While she was momentarily stunned, he took the opportunity to pick up the coffee she’d just made herself and took a sip. ‘Hmm, this is good. May I? Thanks.’ He wandered over to a chair and sat down, legs splayed out comfortably in front of him.
‘Naughty? What?’ The man seriously scrambled her brain. She was still thinking about the kiss.
‘Yes. Hurry up and open it so you can put it on and thank me.’ He looked her up and down, pale green eyes intense, no doubt noticing everything. ‘You look . . . fascinating.’
Amy blushed. ‘I hate to break it to you, but that’s not really a compliment.’
‘It is when coming from me.’ Ben shrugged. ‘Are you going to open the box or am I going to have to wait in suspense for–what the hell is that? Some sort of grotesque fur pillow?’ He looked pointedly down at Gerald, who was sleeping next to his chair.
‘Oh. Meet my new dog.’ Amy felt a pang of anxiety and cursed herself for it. Three years before she’d given up joint custody of her sister’s cat, Boomba, because her boyfriend at the time hadn’t liked animals. The last thing she wanted to find out right now was that Ben hated dogs.
‘A British bulldog?’ Ben studied Gerald’s prostrate form before leaning down and giving the dog a scratch on his wrinkled head. ‘It seems I’ve inspired you. Hopefully not in the looks department. Although . . . I have to admit I do sometimes look like this in the morning before coffee.’
‘Yeah? I could see that.’ Amy chuckled. ‘I’m not too sure your influence is a good thing, because I didn’t mean to bring him home. I wanted to get something a little cuter and heaps more energetic, but he grew on me.’
‘We do that,’ Ben replied with a grin. ‘Is it alive?’
Amy could see how he’d come to ask the question. Gerald’s long pink tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth, his face was so folded and scrunched up that his eyes were invisible and other than the random thunderous fart, snore or half-hearted woof, he hadn’t moved all afternoon.
‘Yeah, he’s just saving up his energy. He’s my new guard dog.’
‘How?’
‘I haven’t worked that out yet,’ Amy admitted. ‘I saw him this morning and he looked at me . . . and the rest is history. Do you like dogs?’ She surreptitiously crossed her fingers behind her back.
‘Love them,’ Ben replied. ‘I’ve never owned one though.’
‘Not even as a kid?’
‘No. Can’t own dogs in boarding school and later I was far too busy working to own a pet.’
‘Oh?’ Amy asked, curiosity nearly overwhelming her. This was the first time Ben had openly referred to his career and she wanted to ask questions, but before she could form any his expression shuttered, replaced by his usual sardonic smile. ‘Aren’t you going to open my present?’
‘Present? Oh. Yes.’ She raised the box she was still holding and shook it lightly. A soft sound greeted her ears. ‘Hmm.’ She turned it over to find the opening.
‘Open it, woman,’ Ben ordered brusquely. ‘The suspense is excruciating.’
Amy was completely unfazed by his surly tone. ‘It’s my present. I’ll open it how I want to.’ She made sure she took her time peeling back the tape holding the box closed, enjoying the way Ben’s frown got more and more pronounced and his eyes narrowed. The big scary tiger was worried she wouldn’t like his gift.
‘Do you like it?’
‘I haven’t seen it yet. Oh.’ Amy was stunned as the box came open and an incredibly soft, sheer, pale blue negligee pooled into her hands. ‘Agent Provocateur? Ben! This must have cost a fortune.’
‘Irrelevant. Do you like it?’
‘Yes. My God, how couldn’t I?’ She held it up against her, luxuriating in the softness of the fabric. It was calf length and looked like something Elizabeth Taylor would have worn as Maggie the Cat. Sexy and a little bit trashy. Amy loved it.
‘I hope you don’t think I’m horribly tacky. I was looking for something more respectable but I saw this in a shop window, thought of you, and the rest is history. As a matter of fact, if you consider the number of times I’ve imagined you naked over the last few days, it’s quite appropriate,’ Ben mused, his wry façade well and truly back in place, accompanied by a faint trace of smug satisfaction.
Amy grinned cheekily. ‘You’re easy. I shouldn’t have bothered to strip the other night. I should have just told you to close your eyes and imagine. Anyway. Thanks. This is gorgeous. I really like it.’
‘Don’t thank me until you try it on and see if it fits. If I’d been able to actually see you naked, I’d be more confident now.’ Ben looked her up and down in a completely inappropriate manner that made her feel a little achy all over. ‘Care to appease my curiosity?’
For a few micro seconds, Amy considered it. After all, the salon and barbershop were empty, everyone had gone home . . .
‘Later.’
‘Does that mean what I think it does?’
‘Maybe.’ Amy folded the negligee up lovingly and slid it back into its packaging. ‘Did you come for a shave?’ she asked, deciding a change of topic was in order. Ben was giving her naughty thoughts about things that shouldn’t play out in front of Gerald’s delicate canine eyes.
‘Would you mind? If you haven’t noticed, I’m beginning to look like a cave man,’ Ben said, rubbing his stubble.
‘A handsome cave man. I think the stubble suits you. Not many guys can pull it off without looking scruffy. On you it sorta looks sexy,’ Amy returned before she caught herself, knowing full well she’d just fallen into a trap.
Ben’s grin was devilish. ‘Nice of you to say so. I am a handsome bastard, aren’t I? I’ll pay of course.’
Amy pasted on a thoughtful expression. ‘Hmm. I have a better idea. Why don’t you come to my place and you can work off my services there?’ She waited for Ben’s smile to widen before she continued. ‘Because my bathroom’s a mess and needs cleaning . . . my shower needs someone to go over it with a toothbrush and I’ve got a leak under my kitchen sink. That should be worth half your face.’ She leaned forward to drape a towel and cape over Ben’s shoulders, deliberately pushing her breasts against his arm. She’d never played the tease before but Ben practically invited it.
His smile turned decidedly feline. ‘What about the other of half my face?’
‘We’ll negotiate that later, after your trial run. You gotta do a good job though. Very thorough.’ She gave him a cheeky peck on the lips.
‘I humbly await your command.’ Ben’s voice had a husky edge to it that left Amy’s knees wobbly and her tummy tingling with anticipation.
Chapter 7
Ben inspected a small stone house that was barely visible through a mass of bedraggled gum trees and flowering plants. This had to be Amy’s home. He couldn’t imagine another sane human being who would own a prehistoric hot pink Mini Cooper. Certainly not one that looked like it had been through a series of crash-test-dummy trials before being sold and spray-painted by hand. He allowed himself a wry smile. It appeared the lady had a habit of taking in strays, both inanimate and canine.
He parked in the driveway, locked his Aston Martin DB9 and offered a prayer to whatever gods he hadn’t offended lately that a storm wouldn’t roll in from the coast, causing one of the overhanging tree branches to fall and turn his pride and joy into an expensive silver pancake.
Taking one last look at his car, Ben climbed up onto a dimly lit porch, registering a battered brown leather armchair and a wealth of plant pots ranging from chipped teapots to halved wine barrels, before noticing the front door had been recently tampered with. Along with two shiny new locks, there were a number of deep grooves in the navy-blue paintwork that indicated someone had been very determined to get inside. Making a note to ask what that was all about, he knocked and faintly heard Amy’s voice calling out, along with the sound of feet swiftly moving over creaking floorboards.
‘Hello.’ The door was opened abruptly and Ben was confronted with a vision in a skin-tight, body-hugging art reproduction. She was wearing a velvet dress printed with Monet’s water lilies that was molded to every inch of her delicious little figure. He stared for a few seconds, dumbfounded.
‘You know, I don’t think Monet’s ever looked so good.’
Amy beamed. ‘Thanks. Come in. It’s cold out there. Is that the wine? I could do with a glass. Gerald and I have got everything under control, so you can spectate.’ She plucked the bottle of red he was holding from his hands and led the way into a cosy, postage-stamp-sized living room complete with a sagging sofa covered with a crocheted purple rug, a red bean bag, wood floors and what was either a TV or a stone age artifact. Ben stared at it for a few bemused seconds before his eyes were caught by the plethora of remarkable black and white photographs hanging on the wall behind it. He skirted the sofa and walked over to study them. ‘Watanabe did these?’
‘The photos? Yeah. Scott did those for me. How did you . . . oh, you saw him at the pub that night we met. I keep forgetting he’s famous. That one over there is my sister, Jo.’ She gestured to a portrait of a strikingly attractive, short-haired woman wearing ragged jeans and a white T-shirt. The woman was in profile to the camera as she sat cross-legged on the floor of what looked to be a garage, inspecting the insides of a vintage motorbike.