Someone Like You(34)

'No worries, really. Thanks for all you've done while I've been away. I  really appreciate it. Now,' Dan turned to the bar and away from that  awkward conversation. 'I think I owe you a drink or ten. Another one of  the same?'

Luke looked visibly more relaxed. 'Sure, thanks. And grab a bottle of white while you're at it.'

Just as Dan placed his order with the too-cool-for-school waiter with a  tattoo on his neck, Luke hopped up from his bar stool and nudged Dan in  the side. 'Hey, Sarah's here. And check out the friend.'

Dan tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, straightened  his back and turned towards the door. Luke was locking lips with a tall,  red-haired woman who had her hands all over his arse. Standing next to  her was the person he assumed was Rachael. She was about medium-height,  with hair cut in a straight line at her chin and there was a cute little  mouth in a heart-shaped face. Her tight red dress suggested some sexy  curves and she was wearing a pair of very high heels. She smiled when he  met her eyes.

And then he waited for it to kick in. Waited for a line to pop into his  head, a joke, a tease, something flirtatious to say. Where was the rush  of blood that always came with the hint of someone new, the possibility  of what Luke had, what Dan himself had had so many times before.

There was nothing. The ground seemed to shift under his feet.

Six months ago she would have been exactly his type.

Luke grabbed Sarah's hand and tugged her towards Dan. 'Dan, this is Sarah. And Rachael.'

Dan shook their hands in turn, tried again to see if anything flared as  he took Rachael's hand in his. Nope. Not a thing. He jammed his hands  into the front pockets of his jeans.

Sarah looked him up and down, slowly. 'Nice to meet you, Dan.' He  couldn't miss the wide-eyed look she gave her friend. Rachael simply  smiled at him and let her eyes wander over his body, too.

'We've ordered some wine,' Luke said. 'Let's grab a table outside.'

Arm in arm, Luke and Sarah walked out through the door. Dan stopped to  let Rachael through first and she brushed up against his arm as she  passed. Still nothing. A minute later, they were seated and the waiter  brought out their drinks.

Sarah sipped her wine and murmured her appreciation. 'This is divine. I don't think I know that label. Where's it from?'

'McLaren Vale,' Dan said quickly. The name had caught his eye as soon as he'd seen it on the wine list.

'It's quite delicious.'

'Nothing like a good honest riesling,' Dan said and something shimmied up his back. Shit. Where had that come from?

'I know this one,' Rachael said with a quiet smile, and Dan looked at  her. 'I'm rather fond of that area myself. I'm a Willunga girl.'

'Really?' Dan said with a smile. 'I'm living at Middle Point at the moment.'

Her face lit up. 'No way. My aunt and uncle have a beach house down that way.'

'Yeah? Where exactly?'

'At Goolwa Beach.'

'That's Adelaide for you,' Sarah added with a laugh. 'Doesn't everyone know everyone?'

Dan sipped his beer, enjoying the loose feeling in his limbs and in his  shoulders. He'd been a little pent-up when he'd arrived. But a calm had  found him, loosened the frown lines on his forehead and relaxed the  tension he carried in his shoulders. A cool breeze ambled through the  lane, fluttering the leaves on the trees and whispering through people's  hair. In the distant sky, slivered between the tall buildings, he could  just see the daytime brightness fading into deep blues and purples. He  let out a deep sigh and tried not to laugh at his situation.

It was almost a perfect night to be sitting out in the balmy evening with an attractive woman smiling at him the way she was.

Only it was the wrong woman.

'So Dan,' Luke turned to him. 'What are your plans? You heading back to work soon?'

There it was. The million-dollar question. 'We're still workshopping  that, Luke. Things are really cranking up with Windswept and it's been  good for business for me to be down there on site. In fact, I might be  down there a good while longer.'

Dan swallowed the last of his beer and put it on the table. He stood and held out a hand to Luke.

'Good to see you, Luke. Nice to meet you ladies.'

Luke looked guiltily at the two women at the table. 'You're going already? We've only had one drink. The night's young, mate.'         

     



 

Dan laughed and shook his head. 'I've gotta go. I'll call you, Luke.'

He knew he had a big week ahead. And trying to be something he wasn't,  the person he hadn't been for months, was a waste of his time.

He strode away from the table and his old life, and didn't look back.





CHAPTER


18


On the last Sunday before Christmas, a cooling sea breeze blew in off  the ocean and a brilliant blue cloudless sky draped itself over Middle  Point.

Lizzie slipped an arm around Julia's waist and together they took in the scene before them.

'Is it just what you imagined?'

Tears welled in Lizzie's eyes. 'Better, Jools. Look at it.'

Twenty stallholders had set up their wares in the area the two of them  had decided to call The Market. It was a brilliant, mouth-watering and  purse-opening display. There were trestle tables groaning with cherries,  nectarines and peaches; baskets of grapes; loaves of freshly baked  bread; locally-made cheeses and glistening bottles of olive oil.  Children from the local school were proudly displaying their selection  of homemade Christmas cards, and the Naughty Knitters had filled a stall  with jams, pickles, preserves and traditional craft items. Boxes of old  books filled another table and there were summer hats to buy alongside  beautifully made breadboards and bowls.

More than a hundred people were perusing and buying things, enticed by  the aroma of the local service club's sausage sizzle. The air was filled  with chatter and laughter. Lizzie poked Julia and pointed to Ry, who  was wearing a striped barbecue apron with aplomb, while artfully turning  snags and flipping sliced onions on the hot plate. Over at the  bookstall, Joe was poking around in the boxes of paperbacks.

'Well, ladies, this is terrific.' Lizzie and Julia turned to see the  sprightly form of Mayor Jessie Graham ambling towards them, sporting a  huge grin on her tanned face.

'Welcome to The Market, Jessie,' Julia said, taking her arm from  Lizzie's shoulders and slipping it into the crook of the older woman's  elbow. 'Thanks for smoothing the waters for our temporary approval.'

'It was my pleasure, Julia. Haven't you done a marvellous job? Look at  all these people! Where's that fiancé of yours? I need to congratulate  him.'

Julia angled the Mayor in Lizzie's direction. 'Ry may have paid for it  but it was all Lizzie's idea. She's the one you should be  congratulating.'

Lizzie was about to open her mouth to protest but stopped. She was damn  proud of this and would take any and all compliments on offer. With a  gracious smile.

'Well, Lizzie, you sly thing. All these years you've been working behind  the bar, when you are capable of pulling this off? In such a short  space of time, too. It's amazing. You've certainly been hiding your  light under a bushel, haven't you?'

Lizzie felt a swell of pride in her chest. 'Sometimes, Your Worship, you  just have to get the timing right. Now,' she slipped her arm through  Jessie's, so she and Julia were like bookends to the dignitary. 'Are you  ready to do the official opening?'

'Watch out, ladies.' Jessie winked. 'You don't want to get in the way of  a politician and a ribbon cutting. Now, where are those scissors?'

Ry had left his spot behind the sizzling sausages and browning onions and was standing on a low box, microphone in hand.

'Thank you, Mayor Graham, for doing the honours.' The crowd gave a  whooping cheer and she gave them a royal wave in return. 'We won't keep  you long, ladies and gentlemen. We wouldn't want to distract you from  spending your money on all these delightful Christmas gifts.' There was a  smattering of laughter in the crowd. 'On behalf of everyone here at the  Middle Point pub, I'm delighted to welcome you to The Market. We'll  have stalls here every Sunday morning and dining out here on Friday and  Saturday nights through the summer months, so please spread the word.  There are pamphlets on each table, so make sure you take some, stick  them on your fridge and leave them in your holiday rentals.'

Ry found Lizzie in the crowd. 'There are two people I'd like to  especially thank. The Middle Point pub's own Lizzie Blake, who came up  with the idea and convinced me to pay for it.'

There was a hearty round of applause and Lizzie felt light-headed. Too  many faces were trained on her and she felt queasy. Happy but queasy.

'And thanks also go to our project manager Dan McSwaine who couldn't be  with us today, but who worked hard to make sure it was finished so we  could open today.' Ry raised a pair of barbecue tongs in the air in  salute.         

     



 

'To Lizzie and Dan,' he called.

'To Lizzie and Dan,' the crowd echoed back.

'To Middle Point,' Ry shouted above the noise. The crowd followed that too with a huge shout of approval.

Some wag in the crowd called out, 'Beers on the house!'

Ry laughed and slapped his thigh. 'Not bloody likely. Thank you to all  our stallholders who put faith in us and, finally, Merry Christmas.'