'Lizzie, do we have any tables left for Christmas Eve?' The pub's young waitress, Kimberley, called out to her, and it snapped Lizzie right back into the middle of the pub. Kimberley had the phone pressed to her ear, her hand covering the mouthpiece while she waited for an answer.
'Tell them sorry, we're fully booked. And for New Year's Eve as well. And no, before they ask you, we can't possibly manage to squeeze in an extra table.' This year, for the first time in a decade, Lizzie wished she didn't have to work those nights. Sure, the pub was closed on Christmas Day and on the first of January, so she got to crash after the exhaustion of those shifts. But it felt like she had some special people to share those special times with this year. Joe was back and Julia was back, too, the first time in fifteen years she'd been in Middle Point for Christmas.
The big doors opened and Joe walked in with a big breeze at his shoulder, a smile creasing his face as he found Lizzie at the bar.
'Hey, Stinkface.'
'Hey, Mosquito.'
'Want a beer?' Lizzie asked.
Joe thought for a minute. 'Ah, what the hell. I'm on holidays.' He found a stool and leaned on the bar.
Lizzie poured him a drink in a frosty glass, getting the right ratio of foam to liquid, and placed it in front of him.
'So what's it like to be back? Has the old place changed much?'
'You kidding? I hardly recognise it any more. There's definitely more money in Middle Point than there used to be.'
'That's so true. Wait until you see Ry and Julia's house. It's massive. It's right next to Julia's mum's old place, the green one that Dan bought.'
'Who?' Joe wasn't a journalist for nothing and Lizzie cursed herself for mentioning his name.
'Dan McSwaine.' Lizzie looked up to the carriage clock, the front door, the crowded tables. Anything to avoid Joe's stare. 'He works for Ry. He's working on a project with me here at the pub.'
'Why are you blushing?' Joe grinned at his sister, leaned over and ruffled her hair, a modified version of the ponytail yanking he did when they were little. That made her laugh out loud and that's the sound Dan heard when he pushed his way through the pub doors from the street.
There she was, laughing, happy, her face all-smiling. And trained on some tall blond guy perched on a bar stool.
His fists clenched involuntarily. He knew he had no right to feel pissed off. But that didn't stop the hackles rising or his anger flaring.
Dan strode over to the bar.
CHAPTER
16
Lizzie's smile and laughing eyes disappeared the minute she realised it was him. The happy face she'd been sharing with whoever the hell she was flirting with became a blank when he marched over to the bar, placed his splayed hands on it and checked her out with an intense glare.
For a moment, they did a Mexican standoff, neither saying a word.
Lizzie finally broke the silence. 'Hello Dan.' Her mouth was set in a determined pout and she lifted her chin with a sharp inhale of breath.
'Elizabeth,' he managed with a growl.
The guy who'd been talking to her put down his beer and cocked his head in Dan's direction. Dan could see his grin from the corner of his eye. Lizzie was biting her lip and tapping a finger on the wooden bar.
She looked from Joe to Dan and back.
'Joe, this is Dan McSwaine. He's … he works for Ry and he's helping me with the car park renovation.'
Joe turned, nodded, held out a big hand. 'G'day.'
Lizzie cleared her throat. 'Dan, this is Joe. My brother.'
Her brother.
The one who'd run off when his sister was barely a kid, leaving her to cope all alone as their mother was dying? Dan held out a hand, wrapped his fingers around Joe's in a fierce grip. He bit back the overwhelming urge to punch the guy in the mouth.
'Dan.' Joe quickly lost the grin, pushed off the bar stool and stood, which was when Dan realised he didn't have a height advantage over the guy. And he looked fit, so he probably didn't have an advantage there, either. He eased off on the handshake and let go.
'Joe. Blake. Are you telling me your name is Joe Blake?'
Lizzie watched as Joe rolled his eyes. 'Yeah.' He sat back down, sipped his beer.
'Joe Blake,' Dan repeated.
'Yeah, bring it on,' Joe said. 'You think I haven't heard that joke before?'
Dan smirked. Slammed a hand on the bar. This was simply too good. 'Joe Blake. The Sydney snake.'
Anyone who ran out on their sister the way Joe had done was a snake in Dan's eyes. A snake in the grass. It didn't take Dan ten seconds to decide that he didn't like the guy.
'Elizabeth.'
At the sound of her name, Lizzie reluctantly met his gaze. Shadows smudged her eyes and her face had lost its blush. She looked tired.
'I don't mean to interrupt but I'm here to do some work on the car park.'
She grabbed a messy pile of menus and began stacking them neatly with little taps against the bar. Her small silver earrings jiggled a rhythm with every movement and Dan's fingers itched to reach over and caress the soft skin by the nape of her neck. Why did he get the feeling it would be totally unwelcome?
'The electrician should be here this afternoon,' Dan told her.
'Great,' she replied. She acknowledged him for about one-tenth of a second. It wasn't enough for him.
'How many stallholders have registered for the first market?'
'Ten, so far. There's lots of interest.' Her answer was directed at Joe, as if he were the one asking the questions.
And apparently he was. 'Do you surf, Dan?'
'Sorry … what?' Dan was thrown by the randomness of the question and the tone of his voice barely disguised his annoyance.
Joe had propped an elbow on the bar, his chin in his hand. 'I'm looking for someone to go surfing with. Thought you looked like a surfer.'
Dan averted his eyes. 'Nope. I didn't grow up down here like you guys did. Now, I don't … ' He stopped, stepped back from the bar, swallowing the words that were right there on the tip of his tongue. I don't think I can. He searched Lizzie's face one more time for a connection, waited for her to look at him. Nothing. He checked the time on the clock over the bar. 'I'll ring the sparky. See when he's due on site. I'll let you know, Elizabeth.'
There was another flicker in his direction, this one slightly longer, her blue eyes washed out and pale.
'Thanks,' she said quietly.
With a nod in Joe's direction, which he figured was more than the bloke deserved, Dan turned and stalked down the corridor, uttering a satisfying curse with every step until he was out through the back door and standing in the bright sunshine.
Lizzie dumped the menus on the bar.
'Elizabeth?' Joe exaggerated her name with a smirk. 'No one's called you that since Nanna.'
'Yes, well. That's Dan for you. Always looking for new and interesting ways to piss me off. And he's very successful at it, if you must know.'
'How long have you had a thing going with him?' Joe asked casually, sipping his beer.
Lizzie felt the heat rise in her cheeks. 'A thing? No thing. Never was a thing. Never will be a thing.' Lizzie grabbed a cloth and began wiping the top of the bar furiously.
Joe chuckled. 'Give it a rest, Lizzie. He nearly cut off the circulation in my fingers when we shook hands. And he seemed to enjoy calling me "the Sydney snake" a little too much. Interesting guy, your Dan.'
She ground her teeth together with a satisfying clench. 'First of all, he is not "my" Dan. He is someone else's Dan, if you must know. And second of all, don't you dare turn all nosey, inquisitive, put-words-in-my-mouth journalist on me. That stuff may work for you in Sydney, but I'm not playing.'
Joe lifted his beer, swirled the froth around inside the glass. Thinking time. 'What I find interesting is that first he looked pissed off because he didn't know I was your brother. And then when he found out I was your brother, he looked even madder.'
Lizzie let out an exasperated sigh. She'd never been able to keep any secrets from Stinkface. Neither had half of Sydney, apparently.
'It's a long story, Joe.'
He waved a hand dismissively. 'No one's got time for long stories these days. Can you tell me in 140 characters? Hit me with the Twitter version, Mosquito.'
Lizzie threw the damp cloth on the bar in frustration, planted her hands on her hips, looked Joe dead in the eyes. Her bottom lip began to quiver. 'I think I'm in love with him. Hashtag worst idea ever.'
'Ah hah,' Joe replied, his eyes narrowed in bemusement. 'That's good news, isn't it? It's been a long time between drinks for you, am I right?'
She took a few deep breaths and wished away the tears. 'No, it's a disaster.'
Once she'd convinced Joe to go home, on the ruse that he should go have a cup of tea and discuss politics with Harri, Lizzie returned to her desk and continued planning for the Christmas market. She had some stallholders booked and was waiting on responses from four others. She sifted through her emails, responded halfheartedly to a dozen of them, filed some hard copy invoices and sorted out the glitches in the January roster.
Anything to distract herself from the knowledge that there was only a two-foot thick stone wall separating her from Dan McSwaine. She didn't have a miraculous sixth sense when it came to the man. After an hour of solid procrastinating, she'd crossed the corridor and snuck into the kitchen, pushed the chef aside, stood on tiptoe to peek out the back windows to see what he was doing.