A Whole New Ball Game Page 7

  ‘Hi. You must be Jarren.’ I held my hand out over the table. ‘I’m Zoe.’

  ‘Zoe.’ He stood, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. What? ‘It’s my pleasure.’

  I studied him. Close up, he was less similar to Dean than I’d first thought. His frame was slimmer, and something about the way he held his shoulders reminded me less of my confident boss and more of something softer, more malleable, like a snake.

  ‘Please, sit.’ Jarren gestured to the chair opposite his, and I forced a polite smile and sat, just as the waiter pushed my chair in for me. Where did he come from?

  ‘Can I get you anything to drink, ma’am?’ the waiter asked.

  ‘No thanks, I—’

  ‘Just bring an extra glass. She’ll share from my bottle.’ Jarren winked as the waiter disappeared, as if they were in on some strange joke together.

  ‘That’s very kind of you, but I really don’t want anything to drink.’

  ‘Why not? You allergic to fun or something, eh?’ Jarren guffawed.

  ‘No. I just want to keep things professional.’ Like you should be doing.

  ‘I won’t tell Dean if you don’t.’ He leaned closer and placed his hand over mine. I slowly moved my hand away. What the hell? ‘It can be our little secret,’ he continued, unfazed.

  The waiter arrived at our table, placing a clean wine glass in front of me. Jarren proceeded to ignore my wishes and poured me a glass before the waiter could reach the bottle, the liquid sloshing around the inside as he watched on in glee.

  ‘Are you ready to order?’ the waiter asked.

  No, since I haven’t looked at the menu, but yes, because I really want to get out of here. I grabbed the black folder and opened it, quickly scanning the list. Decadent and intriguing ingredients popped out at me, and my mouth began to water. But instead of looking for the dishes that appealed to me the most, I found myself guessing the cooking time. Which one would let me get out of here the fastest?

  What a disaster. My first and likely only time eating at Number Thirty-Five, and it was ruined by this strange man in front of me.

  ‘She’ll have the scallops. I’ll have the duck, and we’ll share the slow-cooked lamb shoulder for main. No need for dessert.’ Jarren snapped his menu shut, handing it to the waiter.

  I looked up at him, my eyes wide.

  ‘I know the best things to eat here. I’m doing you a favour.’

  ‘I like to make my own decisions,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Ho, ho! Dad said you were a tough cookie.’ He grinned, showcasing blindingly white teeth as the waiter looked at me one last time, as if for confirmation.

  I shrugged, handing him my menu. ‘Looks like scallops and lamb it is.’

  Sometimes it was easier not to argue.

  ‘So, I’m sure Dad’s told you that I will be taking over the house next year so he can spend some time going fishing, playing golf—all that stuff retired men do.’ Jarren waved his hand as if dismissing the notion. ‘He wanted me to get the inside information from you on your role. What you do on a daily basis.’

  ‘Right.’ I straightened my shoulders. This, I could do. ‘My role is to make sure the patients all receive the top care while they’re in the house. Generally speaking, they’re not sick enough to require constant IV drips or anything like that—that’s when they get transferred to the hospital. I just look after things like changing dressings, administering pain relief and, most importantly, monitoring them for any sign of change. As I’m sure you realise, when a lot of these patients have terminal illnesses, the slightest sign can indicate a downward spiral with a catastrophic end.’

  ‘Right. I see.’ Jarren nodded. ‘And there’s just one nurse on duty?’

  ‘One at a time, yes. But I share my role with two other women, Lucinda and Jenny, so we can offer round-the-clock seven-day care.’ Luckily for me, Lucinda was a night owl, meaning I only had to work evenings on the occasional Saturday when Jenny wanted some time off.

  ‘I see.’ Jarren nodded, his face intent on mine, as if he were taking it all in. ‘And are these other nurses as beautiful as you?’

  My blood turned to ice. He may have flirted with the line before, but this was stepping right over it. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘The other nurses. Are they as caring, as beautiful a human as you?’

  I frowned. That wasn’t what he’d meant, and we both knew it. ‘Jarren, it was very kind of you to invite me here for a meal, but I think I’d best go. Perhaps I can answer any further questions via email.’

  ‘You’ll stay right here, thank you very much.’

  ‘No, thank you. I’m done.’ I pushed my chair back to leave.

  ‘Sit down, or I’ll get Dad to rip that referral he’s been writing you to shreds.’

  My referral. My heart slowed to a dull thud in my chest. How did he know about the referral?

  Slowly, I pulled my seat a little closer to the table.

  ‘Dad told me how one of his best staff had asked for a letter of recommendation, and I wondered why on earth he’d give you one when he clearly values you so much. Now I see why.’ He took a long slurp of his wine, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped it down. ‘Because you’re rude.’

  ‘Rude?’ My eyes widened. ‘You have been flirting with me ever since I came to this table—’

  ‘I was being nice,’ he sneered, slumping back in his chair. ‘This is the problem with women in business. They don’t understand how it works.’

  How could he be so sexist?

  Emily.

  I hoped she was long out of the centre by the time Jarren took over. The last thing she needed was a man like that telling her what women could and couldn’t do.

  ‘This is how it’s going to happen. You’ll sit down, and you’ll answer my questions, and when I get home I’ll even give Dad a nice sentence or two about your generous spirit to add to the bottom of your reference.’ He leaned across the table, stabbing the spotless white cloth with a long, thin finger. ‘Or you get up and leave, and I tell him what a rude bitch you are. Needless to say, that doesn’t sound so good on a letter of recommendation, does it?’

  ‘You’re bluffing.’ Why wasn’t my voice as strong as I wanted it to be? He had to be bluffing, didn’t he? Dean wouldn’t do something like that.

  As if reading my mind, Jarren fished around in his pocket before pulling out a shiny black Amex. ‘Dad’s paying for this meal, remember? You’re on the clock. And you’re only ever as good as your last performance.’

  I shuddered in a breath. What was I going to do? Did I really have to sit there and take it?

  A battle waged in my mind, and I hated the final answer I landed on.

  Yes.

  If he tried anything else, I’d leave. If he touched me again in a way that was inappropriate, I’d get out of there faster than the express train to Sydney.

  But maybe he was just one of those sexist guys who thought they ruled the world. The risk of him ruining my letter of referral …

  My mouth dried at the thought.

  I had to go to Africa. After so many years of wanting, it was finally within reaching distance, and I couldn’t let it slip.

  ‘The scallops.’ The waiter slid a large white plate in front of me, some scallops delicately placed in a sea of granita and gel. To Jarren’s credit, it looked amazing.

  ‘And the duck.’ He placed Jarren’s plate in front of him. ‘Can I get you anything else?’

  ‘Just the cracked pepper. And can you leave it on the table, mate? None of this rationing-it-out business. I’m prepared to pay extra if need be.’ Jarren winked, flashing that card one more time before sliding it back in his wallet.

  I ate my meal in silence, listening while Jarren blathered on about his plans for the Happy Families House. At least it wasn’t just me—Jarren was a dick to everyone, it seemed.

  After the lamb shoulder arrived and was devoured by the man who smacked on his fingers at the end of every bite,
he stood and thanked me for my company, a smile on his face, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he really was that clueless.

  He moved to kiss my hand again, and I winced as those slimy fish lips touched my skin, then thanked him for my meal and left.

  I needed a shower. I couldn’t shake the grimy feeling from my body.

  Chapter 14

  Zoe

  All the next day, a sense of restlessness consumed me. I did my rounds, went through the motions, but my mind wasn’t entirely focused. I needed to do something to get all this strange energy pulsing inside of me out.

  I needed to play.

  Eight o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

  I stood on the sidelines, bouncing up and down on my toes to get some warmth into my body before I put it to the test against the cool spring air.

  ‘You sure are perky tonight.’ Aubrey slung her kitbag on the sidelines beside me, stretching her arms up over her head.

  ‘Rough week,’ I muttered. Between the horrid dinner with Jarren and my recent run-in with Sawyer, I didn’t know where I stood. Both men had managed to churn up a storm of emotions I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  ‘Did I hear you went to the finals and didn’t tell me?’

  ‘Oh.’ I stopped my jogging and turned to face my friend. ‘I did. I’m sorry it slipped my mind, but I only had one ticket, and—’

  ‘I was joking.’ Aubrey laughed. ‘James said he saw you in the box.’

  ‘He was there?’ Why would he be at a member of the opposition’s game?

  ‘On TV.’ She shrugged. ‘Their team mightn’t have made the finals this time around, but it doesn’t mean he’s not keeping a keen eye out to see who’ll be the ones to beat next year.’

  I nodded. Made sense. James always was conscientious like that, putting his sport above any and everything else.

  ‘So how are things going with Sawyer Benson?’ Aubrey changed the subject, lifting up one leg to stretch.

  ‘It’s … complicated.’ I made a face, waving to two of our teammates as they walked on field, swinging their arms about. ‘He invited me to the game apparently to give me a souvenir for one of the kids at work. Only I got there, and his ex was in the box with me.’

  ‘The pretty one with the—?’ Aubrey outlined her lips, as if indicated extra-large smackers.

  ‘Yeah. And she thought I was his girlfriend, and I just felt so—so out of place, you know? Like they were all polished and professional, with their hair and their clothes and their nails, and I was just …’ I looked down at my sweat pants, my bomber jacket.

  The thing was, I was comfortable in those clothes. I felt good like this.

  Shame washed over me. Why had I let Ava make me feel so small when I should have known better than to need her approval?

  ‘You know she was probably only mean because she was jealous, right?’ Aubrey said. ‘People like that always are.’

  ‘Maybe. But I just would have liked some notice. And it made me think that Sawyer hasn’t given me the full truth this whole time. That “dinner” he mentioned—I bet it’ll be someplace public. So Ava can see him out on the town with his new girlfriend.’ I screwed up my nose, as if the word smelt bad. ‘He’s not really being honest with me.’

  ‘Isn’t that kind of what you’re doing too?’ Aubrey stood in front of me, arms folded.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘You’re trying out for W.A.R., but you still plan on going overseas. You’re not being completely honest yourself.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’m not going to be selected. It’s not like I …’ I laughed, trailing off, but Aubrey wasn’t smiling.

  ‘The thing is, you have this incredible opportunity to train with one of the most successful men in Aussie Rules at the moment, and you’re treating it as if it’s a joke. Hundreds of women would kill to play sport professionally.’

  ‘And that’s why I’m doing it! To prove to Emily that—’

  ‘That women can try out for a team, let them think they’ll be available, then ditch that opportunity?’ Aubrey frowned. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything before, but you know what? I would kill to have what you have. I would love to train with Sawyer, to get into the W.A.R.—’

  ‘So try out!’ I protested.

  ‘I don’t have your skill. That’s why I’m hiring a trainer,’ she seethed, then took one step back, two. ‘The thing is, no amount of training would make me ready to play pro ball. But you? I believe in you. And you need to start believing in yourself, or you’re going to let a whole lot of people down and make them very miserable.’

  And with that, one of my best friends walked away, leaving me even more emotionally

  drained than before.

  ***

  I threw everything I had into that game. I raced the ball up the field, one hundred per cent focused, driven. Sweat slicked my shirt to my chest, my back, and still I gave more, pushed harder, ran faster.

  At the end of the game, I collapsed in a heap by the sideline, my breath puffing short and sharp. My muscles ached. My mind ached.

  Tired. I was so very tired.

  But somewhere within me, I’d found peace. The voices in my head, the memories of Sawyer, of Jarren, of my career—they’d faded to a dull whisper. Football always had the power to do that for me. It helped me see clearly when the rest of the world lost focus.

  ‘Here.’ Aubrey slung a bottle to me, and I took it, pouring some into my mouth while staring up at the starlit sky. The water burnt my throat on the way down, offering relief and torture all at once.

  ‘I’m sorry, Aubs.’ I pushed to sit, taking another long gulp of water. ‘I was an idiot before.’

  She studied me, her arms folded. She looked so put-together, even after playing for an hour straight. ‘It’s okay. Just … the Zoe I love wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth like this.’

  I flicked hair out of my eyes. ‘I get it. I don’t know when I became so fixated on getting this job, but you’re right. I need to reassess.’

  ‘You do.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I know you’ll choose the right thing.’

  But just which choice was she referring to?

  Chapter 15

  Sawyer

  I didn’t go to the field.

  Zoe had made it abundantly clear that she no longer needed my services.

  Yet, as I sat in front of the television, some mindless show on in the background, I couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing at that moment when we were supposed to be training.

  Was she at the gym, working out? Her long legs pumping up and down on the bike, sweat glistening, highlighting those muscles I’d stared after longingly as she raced up and down the field?

  Maybe she was cooking dinner, preparing some kind of culinary feast in the kitchen.

  Naked.

  Of course.

  Now that was a picture I could get used to.

  My phone chimed with a message, and I swiped it from the coffee table, my feet still up on the end of the couch.

  Zoe: What’s your security code?

  Sawyer: For what, exactly?

  Zoe: *face palm. Sorry, for your building. And I’m going to need your apartment

  number, too.

  I jerked to sit, glancing around the apartment. Zoe was here?

  Sawyer: Are you in my building right now?

  I walked to the window, looking down to the street below, but no tall brunette darkened the sidewalk.

  Zoe: I am now, thanks to one of your neighbours, a Mrs Gallachan. She’s lovely,

  by the way. Says to tell you ‘Go team!’

  Now what’s your floor and apartment number?

  Quickly, I typed them out, then threw my phone on the couch. Shit. The place looked a mess.

  I raced around, shoving dirty clothes in the hamper and grabbing the trash from the kitchen, opening the hall door to slide it down the chute. When I walked back in, surveying the place as Zoe was about to, it felt … better.

  Still not as nice as it was
when Ava lived here.

  I shook the thought away as quickly as it had entered my mind. Ava didn’t live here anymore. And she clearly wasn’t the woman I’d thought.

  Knock, knock.

  I opened the door, unsure what to expect after the onslaught I’d received two days before.

  Zoe looked—damn, Zoe looked incredible.

  Her long brown hair was pulled back, and her sweat pants highlighted her every curve, the sleek lines of her hips and her toned legs. Her tank top was cut low, exposing the bright-pink sports bra she wore underneath. My fingers itched. What would that soft skin feel like?

  ‘Hi.’ Zoe smiled up at me, a sheepish expression on her face. ‘Mind if I come in?’

  ‘Of course.’ I stood back, gesturing to the apartment beyond. ‘Be my guest.’

  She walked inside, and I closed the door behind her.

  ‘Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Just a water, thanks.’ Her eyes were locked on the floor-to-ceiling window, and she stepped toward it, a moth to the flame. ‘Wow.’

  ‘It’s pretty impressive.’ I poured the glass from the container in the fridge, then walked to Zoe’s side. ‘When I first came here to check out the place, I was sold on this alone. I didn’t bother finding out how big it was, how many bedrooms …’

  Bedrooms.

  Thoughts of Zoe in my bedroom raced through my mind.

  Her long limbs twisting in my sheets.

  That pink sports bra on my floor.

  I pushed the thought away. Professional. Focused.

  She was exactly what I shouldn’t want, exactly what I didn’t need.

  Perhaps that was what made her so damn appealing.

  ‘Here.’ I shoved the water toward her, and she took the glass, her fingers lancing mine as she did.

  ‘Thanks.’ She took a small sip, then looked up at me with those big, green-brown eyes. ‘Sawyer, I’m here to apologise.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that. Being unprepared in a situation like that would have been hard.’ I meant it. If I’d had the slightest clue that Ava would have been there, I would have given Zoe a heads up. I just hadn’t thought Braden’d have the balls to bring her out in public when the wound was still so raw.