Someone Like You Page 7

  ‘No.’ Ry shook his head. ‘I won’t need to sign all the cheques. But I’m going to give you someone who will.’

  Lizzie felt a cold, hard lump of reality forming in her stomach. Why did she know what Ry was going to say?

  ‘Danny Boy.’

  Yep, he’d said it.

  ‘He’s more used to handling projects worth hundreds of millions, but I’m sure he can get used to taking a few zeros off the end of the cheques.’

  Lizzie didn’t speak. If she knew him better she would have said, ‘You. Are. Shitting. Me.’ And then slapped him on the shoulder. Instead, she just stared at him to determine if he was serious.

  He was dead serious. ‘He’s the one you need, Lizzie.’

  Lizzie could see she was stuck between a rock and another rock. She loved this idea. She wanted it. And getting it meant she had to work with Dan. Up close and personal. Did she love her idea that much? Hell, yes. So Dan was hot. He clearly didn’t think she was or, if he did, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. She sucked in a deep breath and held her shoulders strong. ‘Okay.’

  ‘And here’s the kicker.’ Ry grinned as he finished his glass of water and put it back down on the table with a satisfied plonk. ‘You’re going to ask him. And you’re not going to tell him it was my idea.’

  Most days, (oh, who was she kidding, every day), Lizzie found swearing like a shearer to be immensely satisfying. But on this particular day, it was doing zilch to alleviate her frustration. That look on Ry’s face when he’d told her what she had to do? Smug self-satisfaction, that’s what it was. He’d boxed her into a corner and he knew it. He knew she knew it. And he’d enjoyed the squeeze.

  Lizzie stomped her way along the esplanade to Dan’s, knowing the seagulls hovering overhead wouldn’t be offended by her exclamations of outrage. The very fact that she was about to ask for his help created a little pearl of annoyance in her gut. Ry had left her with no specific instructions about how she should broach the whole thing with Dan, which she knew meant that he didn’t have a clue. While he might have a brilliant business mind, Lizzie realised Ry had no idea about helping his best friend.

  Lizzie decided she could present it to Dan as a business proposition. This was simply a job, two people working together, bringing their particular skills and talents to a project with a defined time frame and a clear end point. She’d been clear with Ry and Julia. She didn’t want to do therapy or handholding or pity. Business she could do. Keep it professional. She would put it to Dan and let him decide.

  When Lizzie reached Dan’s house, she knocked fiercely. The hollow sound it made on the rickety wooden door took her back twenty years. She’d practically grown up in this house when Julia had lived here. With only a roadway and the low dunes between it and the beach, it had been the perfect summer hangout for teenage girls. She and Julia had roamed the sand hills and the cliffs of Middle Point every summer, suntanned, sun-screened and seriously boy-crazy. Chasing boys and being chased by them.

  Lizzie sighed at the memory. The only blokes who chased her these days were pensioners on the hunt for the specials menu.

  She knocked again, wishing Dan would hurry up and open the damn door so she could get this over with, quickly. She hadn’t specifically rehearsed what she might say. She was going to wing it. Once she opened her mouth, all sorts of things – planned and unplanned – tended to pop out anyway so she figured there was little point in careful preparation.

  Finally, the door creaked open. The hermit of Middle Point stared down at her, wearing what appeared to be his standard uniform of boardshorts and an old T-shirt. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth humourless.

  ‘Dan,’ she said firmly, in place of hello or anything friendlier.

  He didn’t move or speak, simply looked right into her eyes. From inside the house, she could hear canned laughter and then the loud blaring of a TV ad.

  His silence forced her to respond.

  ‘“Hi Lizzie, how are you? I’m great, thanks Dan.”’ Her charade won a reaction. He appeared to be trying hard not to smile.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ she said, her stubbornness rising to the surface as her chin lifted.

  Dan remained still.

  Lizzie gritted her teeth, almost at the end of her tether with the staring and the nerve-jangling and the handsome.

  ‘Would you rather we do this out here? Or,’ she pointed past his shoulder into the living room. ‘In there?’

  CHAPTER

  6

  Dan McSwaine knew women. Understood exactly what Lizzie was up to. Could sense her game plan just by that glint in her eye. She wanted to drag his arse inside and tear strips off him. At least she deserved some credit for not doing it on his front doorstep. The women he’d known, city types with sky-high heels and even higher expectations, wouldn’t have given two shits about where they did it or who was listening. In fact, they’d probably go one step further and try to rip his balls off. Through his jeans.

  Her baby blues and determined mouth were locked on him but he hadn’t moved, hadn’t given her an inch yet. Did he deserve a bollocking? Hell yes, he knew he did. And now she wanted to come inside and ‘talk’. Which meant she wanted to rake over the night before and his no-show, play the guilt game and twist the emotional knife into his chest.

  Yeah, sweetheart. Get in line.

  Lizzie let out an exasperated sigh and crossed her arms, which did something kind of interesting to her breasts. Not that he noticed.

  ‘So Dan, are we gonna do this here or inside? It’s totally up to you.’

  Dan knew he should probably shut her down right there. He didn’t need his arse kicked by a woman, not when he was so busy doing it himself, day after day, night after sleepless night. So he straightened his shoulders, prepped his armour to fend it all off. He tried to find a smirk.

  But when he opened his mouth to speak, something about the look on her face cut him off at the pass. There was something in her expression that threw him for a loop. When he looked at her, really saw her, she didn’t give the impression of being someone who wanted to tear strips off him. There was no anger in her eyes. The only flash of heat was in her cheeks. When he dipped his head to look closer, he realised she looked…was that embarrassment? And that made him feel six kinds of shitty.

  Then, it got real hard, real quick. He should have turned her away. Shut the door this time, not slammed it. But a part of him, a part he barely recognised, couldn’t do it. Not to her. Not again.

  ‘Step right in,’ Dan announced, aiming for don’t-give-a-shit nonchalance. He stood aside to let her pass and Lizzie strode in resolutely. He caught her scent as she brushed against him, flowers again. In the middle of the room she stopped, turned and clasped her hands together in front of her. That move drew his attention to her skirt and then to her curvy arse. What the hell, he figured with a mental shrug. He’d already checked out her breasts, so where was the harm in making it a trifecta?

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you and I won’t keep you long.’ Lizzie swept her eyes over the room, took in the inane chatter coming from the TV, a week’s worth of newspapers spread all over the kitchen table, dishes in a precarious pile next to the sink. ‘I can see you’re busy.’

  ‘Sarcastic as well as beautiful. What a winning combination.’

  Her proud chin lifted and she took a deep breath. Again, it did interesting things to her breasts. This time he didn’t care if she saw him looking.

  ‘I’ve got a proposition for you.’

  Dan found the remote and jabbed it at the TV, before tossing it onto the orange vinyl sofa. It bounced off and landed with a crack on the floor. Damn it. His aim as well as his judgment was totally out of whack.

  ‘Did I hear you say you want to proposition me?’

  Lizzie’s eyes widened and she nibbled on her lower lip. Man, that was distracting.

  ‘In your dreams, Dan. I said I have a proposition for you. Ry’s agreed with my plan to renovate the car park at the pub and he’l
l pay for it, the whole thing and we need to do a whole lot of work and it needs to be finished by Christmas.’

  ‘Elizabeth, slow down for a second.’ Dan pushed the hair off his forehead, hoping if he could see her more clearly he might understand what she was talking about. ‘What plan? What car park?’

  So this wasn’t about last night and his no-show? Wasn’t she gonna bust his balls? Or at least shout a little? Could she really be letting him off the hook so easily? The realisation didn’t fill him with triumph.

  She met his eyes. ‘Dan, the long and short of it is…I need you.’ And then just as quickly, the flush of red in her cheeks returned and her eyes shot open. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I need you to project manage the renovation at the pub.’

  ‘Whoa. Stop.’ Dan raised a hand and shook his head. ‘I feel like I’ve walked into a movie halfway through. What are you talking about?’

  ‘Oh keep up, Dan. The pub. The car park.’

  ‘You want to renovate the car park?’

  ‘Yes! I don’t know if you’ve ever been out the back—.’ Her words fell from her lips in a tumble before she could stop them. She took a step forward, her hand on her mouth, as if she didn’t trust what might come out next. Dan dropped his eyes to the rug. She knew what the answer was. Since the accident, he hadn’t been to the pub at all.

  ‘It’s bitumen and incredibly hot and, frankly, a total waste of space. We can do so much more with it, turn it into a real community meeting place on the weekends. Ry’s agreed with the whole thing. We’ll have a market on Sundays, put tables and chairs out there and do breakfast.’

  He was relieved when she stopped to take a breath. He felt exhausted just listening to her.

  ‘The problem, you see, is that I’ve got all the brilliant ideas and I know exactly what I want, but I don’t know how to manage the trades or where to order materials. Ry says you do. Julia’s going to work on some publicity and help massage it through the council. And Ry’s paying for it all.’

  When he took a long look at her face, beaming with infectious enthusiasm, Dan was hit with a realisation so big it felt like a punch to the gut. Not everything is about you, McSwaine. Lizzie hadn’t been working out ways to get stuck into him or plot some painful revenge. She had a life, one that didn’t revolve around him and whatever shit he was going through, and she was simply getting on with it. Whatever had happened between them – or not happened – she’d moved on. She was so much smarter than he’d given her credit for. And he was a dumb arse.

  Dan rubbed his beard. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.’ And he wasn’t just talking about the pub.

  ‘I have. Everyone’s on board. Except you. That’s why I’m here. To ask for your help.’

  This was Elizabeth, who’d brought him food but never judgment. She’d never looked at him the way he imagined everyone in Middle Point did, with pity. It was none of their business, the accident, how he was feeling. He didn’t want to have to explain anything about what was going on in his head because he didn’t have a clue himself. She hadn’t been hovering, watching and waiting for him to fall apart. And as he watched her, the excitement lighting up her face, he realised something. If anyone else had asked, he would have turned them down flat. Even Ry.

  But he couldn’t say no to this woman. Whatever he was going through, he’d be damned if he could say no to Elizabeth Blake.

  ‘I’m not sure I can do any of the real work,’ he said gruffly, needing to clear his throat all of a sudden.

  ‘Oh,’ Lizzie said.

  ‘It’s been a while since I picked up my tools, got my hands dirty.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she replied and that flush was back in her cheeks. ‘I need your brains, not your body.’

  Dan found a smile, despite himself. ‘Brains I can do.’

  ‘So, that’s a yes?’ Lizzie’s eyebrows rose in a question and damn it if his fingers didn’t itch to stroke her cheek, to feel that soft skin under his fingertips.

  ‘It’s a yes.’ Dan held out his hand to her.

  In his old life, a deal was never real until you shook on it but Lizzie did nothing for what seemed like minutes. Her eyes darted from his face to his hand and he felt like a goose standing there with his arm outstretched. Just as he was about to withdraw it, she stepped closer and put her hand in his. She held on with a strength and determination that didn’t surprise him. He already knew there was so much more to her than met the eye.

  ‘It’s a deal then,’ Lizzie finally smiled.

  Man, that one got him right in the solar plexus and Dan couldn’t stop himself from grinning too. ‘Yeah, it’s a deal.’ Then he added, ‘Partner.’

  ‘Great.’ Lizzie’s fingers twitched and she pulled them from his grasp, turning quickly towards the kitchen. ‘So where’s your coffee? Lizzie’s mum used to keep it up here in the cupboard by the stove.’ She reached out to open the door but stopped, and looked back at him over her shoulder. ‘Sorry, old habit. I forgot for a minute that this isn’t Julia’s house anymore.’

  Dan walked over to her, stood close, filling the space behind her with his body, wedging her between his chest and the cupboard. Seeing her across the room was one thing, but up close like this was something else. Her blonde hair looked good enough to run his fingers through, silky and smooth, and delicate silver hoop earrings bobbed by the soft skin of her neck. He slowly reached over and around her, opened the high door and found a jar of instant coffee. Lizzie turned to face him and her eyes were on his mouth. Damn it if she didn’t nibble at that lip again.

  He handed Lizzie the jar and she studied the label.

  ‘You can’t be serious. Instant coffee?’ She screwed up her nose and a teasing smile crinkled her eyes.

  ‘Since when is a small town girl a coffee snob?’

  Lizzie tilted her head to one side. ‘Since when does a city boy drink instant?’

  Dan shrugged his shoulders. ‘Take it or leave it, baby. It’s all I’ve got.’

  ‘It’ll have to do, for now.’ Lizzie moved past him, squeezing her way out of the space between his body and the cupboard. ‘But there’s no way we’re going to get this job finished in a few weeks if we don’t have real coffee. I’ll put it on the list,’ she announced as she crossed the room, grabbed a notepad and pen from her handbag, moved to the kitchen table and sat down. She flipped open the cover and tucked the pen behind her ear. ‘I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I’ve already sketched out some ideas.’

  Back to business.

  ‘Of course you have,’ Dan smiled. As he pulled out a chair across the table from her and lowered himself into it, he wondered exactly what he’d let himself in for.

  CHAPTER

  7

  ‘Mayor Graham, I understand.’ Julia paced up and down in front of the gleaming stainless steel appliances in her designer kitchen, her mobile phone pressed to her ear, winking at her best friend. Lizzie was perched nervously on a steel chair on the other side of the huge marble breakfast bar, watching her reflection in the oven, her stomach in knots. She’d been serving drinks to Mayor Jessie Graham for ten years at the Middle Point pub – always and only a champagne cocktail – but now Lizzie felt anxious. Everything about this situation was way more serious. Julia had been on the phone to her for ten minutes, trying to convince the mayor that the redevelopment was a good idea.

  ‘I know, parking will be an issue for people living near the pub, you’re right. But did I mention that the extended dining area will only be open for business during summer?’

  Julia stopped her pacing and repositioned the phone under the curls by her other ear.

  ‘What’s she saying?’ Lizzie whispered.

  Julia shooshed her friend with a wave of her hand. Lizzie had never seen Julia in her professional mode and the part that wasn’t a bundle of nerves was enjoying the performance immensely.

  ‘Exactly. We think it will keep people here in Middle Point. We won’t have to watch them drive off to Goolwa or Por
t Elliot for Sunday brunch and a bit of shopping. And as you know, most of Middle Point is an easy walking distance from the pub.’

  Julia closed her eyes, trying hard to listen to the mayor down the line.

  ‘Exactly, Mayor.’ Julia gave Lizzie the thumbs-up. ‘And imagine how convenient it will be for you to meet with your constituents when they’re all gathered at the market on Sunday mornings. Who knows, we might even get you cooking the bacon and eggs.’

  Lizzie smiled at her friend. Damn, she was good.

  ‘Thank you so much. I appreciate you talking to me about this on the phone. We’re on a tight deadline to get the first market up and running before Christmas. Do we have your support? You don’t think we’ll have any problems getting the parking issue through Council? A temporary permit? I’ll take it. Thank you so much. Yes, we’ll be sure to let you know the date of the first market.’ Julia winked at Lizzie. ‘Perhaps we could invite you to do the official opening. Fancy cutting a ribbon? Wonderful. I’ll be in touch.’

  Julia ended the call and calmly placed her phone on the marble bench.

  ‘Sorted.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘She loves the idea.’

  ‘You are brilliant, you know that?’ Lizzie was still perplexed as to how Julia had sweet-talked the mayor so quickly.

  ‘Me? You got this ball rolling in the first place, Lizzie. It’s always easy to sell a great idea. It’s going to be amazing.’ Julia reached over and grabbed Lizzie’s empty coffee cup. ‘You want another one?’ Julia was very much enjoying using Ry’s expensive European coffee machine and Lizzie was very much enjoying drinking the real coffee.

  ‘So, how are things going with your project manager?’

  Lizzie glanced at her watch. ‘Why, Julia Jones, I believe that is a record for you. I’ve been here for a full half hour and this is the first mention of the elephant in the room. What self-control you have.’

  ‘This casual thing I’ve got going on?’ Julia shimmied her hands up and down in front of her and rolled her eyes. ‘It’s all a front. I’m dying on the inside.’ With a flick of a button, steaming hot coffee poured out of a silver tube on the coffee machine and filled Lizzie’s cup. Julia topped it up with hot, foaming milk and slid it across the bench.