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‘Can I get you a coffee? Tea? I’m Mel by the way.’ The proprietress’s smile widened. ‘Welcome to Rabbits Leap. I hear you’re here to help with the festival.’
Wow, word got around quickly in this place. ‘I’m here to do what I can.’ Christian attempted to return her smile, but the painful gut-twist had returned. Like a snake intent on wrapping itself into a knot. Many knots. ‘An espresso would be great, thanks. Oh, and a scone. Extra cream, please.’
Mel leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. ‘They’ve got you stress-eating already? A word of advice. Just hold your ground. Don’t let them boss you about’. She straightened up and sent him on his way with a flick of her hand.
Boss him around? Stress-eating? What did she think he was? A pushover? It would be him doing the bossing. No two ways about that. Christian settled into the chair Mrs Harper had made available for him and gave the women a curt nod. ‘Ladies, let’s get down to business. The festival is three weeks away. It appears nothing has been organised and time is of the essence. But first things first. Jody has resigned as head of the committee. I shall take her place and this whole democracy thing you’ve got going on is out the window. There’s no time for democracy. Although I’d appreciate your connections within the wider community when it comes to booking entertainment and activities.’ Christian nodded in satisfaction and gave the women a tight smile. Job done. They knew the score. They’d be onboard. There’d be no bossing or bulldozing.
A cackle filled the air. High-pitched and hysterical. Followed by the low rumble of a chuckle. They were laughing? At him? He looked over his shoulder to see Mel giving him a pitiful glance. What was going on?
Mrs Hunter was gripping the table and gasping for air. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she panted, as she gasped for air, ‘that you said to Jody what you just said to us?’
Mrs Harper was clutching her sides. ‘You’re hilarious. Who knew the big-city boy would be so very funny? ‘There’s no time for democracy’! Oh my word. Bless your cotton socks, Christian.’
‘Look, dear.’ Mrs Hunter laid her hand on his forearm and gave it a squeeze. ‘I don’t know how you do things up in London. I’m not even sure what you’ve done before. Jody didn’t say. In fact, hiring you is the only thing she’s done without chatting to us about it first, so it’s not like we expected you to be here, and we’re not entirely sure why we need you in the first place… But you have to understand that trying to tell us how to do things in that stern manner of yours is never going to work. It clearly didn’t work with Jody and it doesn’t sit well with us.’
Was that a threat he detected in that sweet and low voice? And why had Jody not consulted them? Surely she’d have had to in order to secure the budget for his services? Not that the price had been that high. But he’d needed to get out of town, it was a paying job, and if he made a success of the festival then his great mistake would hopefully be quickly forgotten. His reputation as the best event manager in London would remain intact.
Christian saw something out the corner of his eye. A young boy with a stick in his hand and a hoop beside him, rolling it down the street. Had he travelled back in time? Was he going mad? Had the stress of the pop-star disaster actually sent him barmy? Was he currently locked up in a padded cell having a delusion?
Two soft thunks and the aroma of rich coffee brought him to his senses.
‘Here’s your coffee, and the scone, with extra cream. Eat up. Drink up. You’ve the look of a man whose blood sugar is dropping at a rapid rate.’ Mel scooted the sugar bowl his way. ‘Pop two of these in, it’ll do you good.’
Christian nodded his thanks and spooned the sugar into the coffee, hoping the women across from him, still snickering away, wouldn’t notice the trembling of the spoon, or the small granules of sugar that fell onto the table.
‘So, how is this going to work then?’ he asked. ‘Will I make suggestions and you poo-poo them? Will you make suggestions and expect me to action them? Am I to be your lackey?’
‘Ooooh, I’ve always wanted a lackey.’ Mrs Harper clapped her hands in delight. ‘Yes, I’m very happy with that idea of yours. Excellent idea. You do as we say. I could live with that.’
‘Now, now, Shirley.’ Mrs Hunter shook her head in mock despair. ‘Give the poor lad a break. He’s here to help us and he must have connections. Why don’t we let him find the musical acts and we can go about telling the Rotary girls what we need for the baking stall. We’ve got the Welly-wanging sorted; Jody had that well in hand. So that should be it. We’re done.’
Christian gripped the coffee cup with both hands, brought it to his lips and sipped, holding the rich and surprisingly delicious liquid in his mouth. Who knew a tiny town could do a better cup of coffee than any he’d had in the city? He swallowed and tried to process what he’d just been told. Did they think a baking stand, some Wellington throwing and a bit of music was all a festival needed? It needed more. Much more. But it wasn’t going to work if he didn’t have a team he could trust working with him. Mrs Harper and Mrs Hunter were loose cannons. They’d likely jeopardise plans rather than bring them to fruition. But Jody? There was something about her he felt he could trust. She was determined, yet centred. Solid. She’d make the perfect second-in-command. But she’d quit. Shit.
He took another sip of the brain-focusing liquid. No, he wasn’t letting these two women smash the career he’d spent his life building into smithereens. He’d left London with his tail between his legs; there was no way he was going back to face the music of his great mistake without a success under his belt. He was going to make this work.
‘Ladies.’ The word came out with a squeak. Hardly the show of strength he’d hoped for. Still, it had caught their attention. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Ladies, I appreciate how hard you’ve worked on this festival. I can see how passionate about it you are. But to be honest, it’s not enough. A festival needs to be fun, it needs excitement, amusement, it needs to be something people talk about all year round as they wait for it to come around again. What you’ve planned is a start. But it’s not an end. No. We’re going to have to work together to make this bigger. To make it better than any other festival in the area. A festival people from other counties come to visit. We’re going to make this festival the biggest little festival in England. Are you with me?’
***
‘I’m an idiot. More than an idiot. I’m insane. I should be committed.’ Jody slapped her hand to her forehead, rubbed it wearily and eyed her brother, who was restocking The Bullion’s wine fridge. ‘What was I thinking using my…’ Jody stopped herself. Tony didn’t need to know she’d used her own money to pay for the event manager. If he knew, he’d offer to help her, and she wasn’t one to accept offers of help. She’d done everything on her own since the boys came along and being a little out of pocket now wasn’t going to change that. ‘I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to hire a person who would come in and just destroy everything we’d put together. Well, what little we’d kind of put together…’ She eyed the bottles of wine lined up in The Bullion’s fridge. Was it too early for a drink? It was after midday, and surely it was five o’clock somewhere in the world. ‘Tony, pour your big sister half a glass. I need to take the edge off. And where is bloody Serena? She said she’d meet me here five minutes ago.’
Tony snickered. ‘Edge off? You’d need a whole bottle of wine to do that, not just a half glass. I’ve never seen you so pissed off. And what’s five minutes? She probably got stuck in a sheep jam or something. Chill out, Jodes.’
Jody stuck her tongue out at her brother. Then laughed when he stuck his own tongue out and crossed his eyes.
‘Seriously? How old are you two? Five?’ Serena set her tangerine-coloured tote on the bar with a whump and slid onto the stool next to Jody. ‘And why haven’t you ordered wine yet? Honestly, what kind of best friend are you? How long have we known each other? You should know by now that if you’re demanding I come to a pub then you’d better have something alcoholic ready for me when I get here. And what’s the big drama? And who’s Mr Fancy Pants? And why do we need to run him out of town, preferably with pitchforks that have sat in hot coals for a couple of hours?’
Jody grinned at her friend. Serena had a way of bringing lightness to even the darkest situations. ‘Tony. Did you hear the woman? Wine. Now.’ She slapped her hand on the bar for emphasis. ‘And bugger the half a glass, make it a whole. Also, could you take some chips up to the boys and tell them they’re not to be playing the violent computer games. And if they do they’ll lose today’s TV privileges. And make sure you impress upon them that if they do play the violent games, I’ll know. And be sure to raise your eyebrows on the “I know” bit.’
‘And they believe you’ll know?’ Serena grinned.
‘They haven’t figured out that when I told them I had secret cameras installed upstairs and all around Rabbits Leap to keep an eye on them that I was telling them a white lie.’
‘Or a blatant lie.’ Tony poured the wine into glasses and slid them across the bar. ‘I’ll go sort out the chips for the boys. Don’t steal anything, I have cameras everywhere too, you know.’ He winked, and then headed out to the kitchen.
Jody shrugged and lifted the glass to her lips. ‘A mum’s got to do what a mum’s got to do,’ she murmured, as much to herself as to Serena. ‘Anyway, you won’t believe the afternoon I’ve had. Actually, no, first of all, how are you?’
Serena shook her head. ‘I’m fine. Forced into farm slavery. Sick of the smell of cowpats, tired of getting up at the crack of dawn to touch a bunch of udders.’ She shuddered. ‘But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about you. So, who is this bloke who’s got your knickers in a twist? Don’t tell me you’ve finally broken that dumb rule of yours and fallen in love? Don’t do it, Jody. Love is a bad thing. Terrible thing. Never ends well. Secure that chastity belt of yours. And double-lock it.’
Jody snorted. ‘Thank God I’m not mid glug right now, because you’d be wearing the wine. Nope, he’s of no romantic interest to me. No man is. You know that. Not until the boys have left home and no longer need me. What he is, though, is the event manager I hired to help get the festival on track.’ She laughed, short and harsh. Regretful. ‘On track? He’s blown up what few ideas we had. There won’t be Welly-wanging.’
‘No Welly-wanging? So? What’s the big deal about that? It’s not like we’re known for it. Haven’t won any competitions or anything. Heck, didn’t Rabbits Leap quit entering them when we came last at our first attempt?’
‘Well… I know… but…’ Jody twisted her wine glass round and round. ‘I don’t know. People seem to enjoy it. Families look like they’re having a good time…’ She shrugged and traced patterns in the condensation on the wine glass. ‘I guess it was a dumb idea. But it was the only idea I was able to get everyone to agree on. I guess it wasn’t so much about him saying no to it as the way he said it. He just dismissed it. Wasn’t even polite about it. He came in and took over, and well… that’s just not the Rabbits Leap way.’
‘So, what are you going to do? Get rid of him for hating the one big idea you managed to get past my mother and Mrs Harper? You did send him packing, didn’t you?’ Serena gave her a speculative look. ‘You didn’t. You bailed. You’ve left him to ruin the town festival. Jody!’ she wailed. ‘You can’t. We need you. You know how to organise stuff. You’ve done those bingo nights. Those book sales. The schoolkids were able to go on a trip to the Natural History Museum in London because of your fundraising efforts. But most importantly, we need a pool! Sure, it only gets used a couple of months a year. But, oh, what glorious months they are. And if we raise enough we could get some fancy heat-making thing to make the pool swimmable a little longer. I can’t believe you let Mr-Fancy-whatever-you-called-him-Pants steamroll you. God, if I meet that man, I’ll…’
A cough, of an undeniably awkward nature, stopped Serena in her verbal tracks.
Out of the corner of her eye Jody could see Christian loitering a few feet away. His hands in his shorts pockets. His gaze fixated on the timber beams running across The Bullion’s ceiling. Heat rushed to her cheeks.
Serena’s eyes widened and her own cheeks flamed. ‘He’s behind me, isn’t he?’ she mouthed.
Jody nodded.
‘Shit,’ she mouthed again and attempted to nonchalantly sip her wine, only to slosh it all over the bar.
‘Hey, Christian.’ Jody said, but the casual tone came out a croak. ‘Are you after a cold drink? Or an alcoholic one? Did Mrs Harper and Mrs Hunter send you round the bend already?’
Christian shifted from foot to foot. Was it her imagination or had his cheeks rouged up? ‘Er, no. Not so much. They are… trying… though.’
Serena snorted. ‘He just called my mother “trying”. Should I throw my wine over him or be happy someone else agrees with me?’
The hint of colour on Christian’s cheeks morphed into a full flush. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your mother. I didn’t know. And if it’s any consolation, she’s much better than the other one.’
Serena laughed. ‘Mrs Harper’s a right handful. I don’t know how the boys haven’t smothered her in her sleep already.’
Jody grinned. ‘You forget that Bo’s a big-time rugby star, so he’s never home. Ridge spends his days and nights with his head under the bonnet of various cars. And Chase… well, he’s the ultimate mama’s boy, so he’d be buggered and bereft if anything happened to her.’
‘True. Pity she’s their mother. Those boys are damn hot. But who’d go there if you had to deal with that.’
Christian stepped forward. ‘And that’s why I’m here. Jody, I need you to come back. I need…’ He paused, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as if something were stuck in his throat and he had to force it out. ‘I need your help to deal with, as your friend so eloquently put it, that.’
Jody swung round on the stool to face Christian, propped her elbows on the bar, leaned back and laughed. Long and hard. The sound echoed around the bar and caused Christian to take the step he’d taken forward back again. Then another.
Jody sucked in a couple of calming breaths, but couldn’t erase the grin that kept returning every time she tried to tame it. ‘What happened to Mr-I’m-in-Charge? Mr I’m-the-Boss? Have you finally realised you’re not in London any more? That we don’t do things down here like you do up there?’
Christian’s chest – broad, she noted, and potentially even muscular – rose and fell. Once, twice, three times. He was either trying to keep himself from raging at her for laughing in his face, or breathing to stop himself passing out. Jody noted the grayish-beige tone to his skin and softened. ‘Here.’ She indicated the stool beside Serena. ‘Take a seat. Can I get you a drink?’
‘Water.’ The corners of his lips lifted in a smile, but his eyes remained unsure. Guarded.
Jody grabbed a pint glass. ‘You look like you need a beer. I’m getting you a beer.’ She expertly filled the glass and passed it to Christian. Their fingertips grazed against each other as the glass changed hands, sending something that very much resembled a tingle up Jody’s arm. Warming the areas it zipped through. Surely not? Her body wasn’t attracted to him, was it? She brushed the idea aside. No, it was probably just static electricity. She caught Christian’s eye and saw her baffled feelings reflected back at her. So, not static electricity then. Strange. Still, Jody mused as she returned to her seat, her body could feel all the tickly thrills it wanted; it didn’t mean she was going to do anything about it. Not now, not ever. No amount of lusty body-feels could make up for the pain that followed the inevitable rejection.
‘This beer’s good. Really good.’ Christian ran his tongue over his lips, erasing the foam that had settled there.
Her body started again. The energy moving a little lower, hovering low in her stomach, warming what she liked to joke about as the ‘cold pit’. Turncoat, she scolded. ‘It’s my brother’s. He brews it. He’s making a name for himself.’
‘He should have a spot at the festival. Did I see a sign for a beer garden?’
Jody nodded.
‘Well, it wouldn’t be a daft idea to do the beer garden up and make it the official beverage stand. Would he be into that?’
Tony walked through the kitchen doors. ‘The boys are sorted with the chips. No violent video games in sight. And would I be interested in what?’
‘Tony, this is Christian Middlemore. The new head of the festival committee. He thinks your beer garden would be an excellent addition to the festival. What do you think about that?’ Jody raised an eyebrow and prayed her brother would do the loyal family thing and tell Christian to bugger off – even though it was a good idea. One she wished she’d thought of herself.
Tony clapped his hands together with enthusiasm. ‘I think that’s a fantastic idea. Best idea yet. The beer garden’s only just been created, needs a bit of a tidy up, a bit of landscaping and whatnot, but this would give me the excuse I need to pull my finger out of my arse and do it. I’m in.’ Tony reached out and grabbed Christian’s hand and shook in vigorously.
Traitor, Jody grumbled to herself. That made two backsliders today. Her body and her brother. The two things that were meant to be loyal.
‘I’m so glad you like that idea, Tony. I think it could be quite spectacular. I was also thinking you could string lanterns across the area. They’d look brilliant during the day and be a real show-stopper at night for those who chose to stay on after the festival.’
‘Great. Love it. I’ll get on to it. Jodes? Why didn’t we hire this guy earlier?’
Christian took another slurp of beer, set his glass down and focused on Jody. ‘Thank you, Tony. I appreciate that you see my worth. If only everyone did. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting the committee to be so…’ Christian paused, his eyes darting from side to side as if racking his brain for the right word.
‘Crazy?’ Tony supplied.
‘What is with you people today?’ Serena snapped, her face lighting up with a grin. ‘That’s my mother you’re talking about!’
‘I stand by my statement. I’d also add nutty, forceful, determined and pretty damn intolerable when given a hint of power. I still can’t believe you agreed to take those two on, Jodes.’ Tony shook his head. ‘You must have been having a moment.’
Or desperate to make up for the past. A lump settled in Jody’s throat. ‘Something like that, Tony. Had myself a wee bit of a turn, obviously.’ She forced a smile. ‘Anyway, I’ve quit, so it’s not my problem any more.’
‘Actually, Jody…’ Christian’s focus remained on her.
Jody tried not to squirm in her seat. Why did he have to keep looking at her so intently? And why did he have to have those warm, roasted chestnut-coloured eyes that could melt steel, or an ice maiden’s vow to herself. Ugh. She folded her arms and pinched the soft underside of her arms in an attempt to pull herself together.
‘…I wasn’t joking when I said I needed your help. I do. And I hate admitting that. But Rabbits Leap is… different… to what I’m used to. The people here are set in their ways. And there seems to be some sort of hierarchy I can’t figure out. Well, I can. At the moment it seems the locals are on top and I’m at the bottom of the pile. Which would be fine, but I need to make this work. I need someone to help me figure this place and its people out. I need you, Jody. I want you.’
Serena giggled. ‘Well, that’s not the kind of declaration a girl hears every day. I think I’d better leave you two alone.’ She slugged back the dregs of her wine, gathered up her bag and winked at Jody. ‘Have fun!’
Frustrated, Jody lowered her head into her hands and sank her teeth into her lower lip. What choice did she have? If she said no, she’d be stuck in the same place she’d been for years – looking for a way to make up for her one night of recklessness that had impacted on so many. But if she said yes? She recalled those flickers of electricity that had danced over her skin when they’d touched. If she said yes, she’d be putting herself in a position she’d sworn never to be in. She’d be opening herself up to attraction. Which could lead to desire. And then the ultimate no-no, love. And, in her experience, that never led anywhere good.
‘We need to get something clear,’ she mumbled into her hands. ‘You are not my favourite person right now. But I’ll work with you. Not because I want to, but because I don’t want this little town to lose its one big dream. So I’ll come back onboard, but you need to understand that I won’t be dictated to. If we’re butting heads, we’ll have to find someone for a swing vote. Understood?’
Christian lifted his head a little, just enough so one half of his face was in view. ‘Mr Fancy Pants understands.’ He gave her a cheeky grin.
Her heart must have discovered a trampoline in her chest because it did a flip-flop. Jody closed her eyes against that far-too-cute smile. It was too late to back out. She’d done the deal. But why did she suspect the price she’d pay would be high?
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e2fde13a-af91-517a-abe7-b0cf9c918103)
Focus.
Christian forced himself to read the words on the laptop, but for the first time in a long time the screes of plans and ideas he had for an event held little to no interest. Not when his mind was filled with images of curling blonde hair that bounced on sun-kissed shoulders, tanned legs so long they looked like they could give The Shard a run for its money, and the tantalising hint of divinely curved breasts.
Damn it! The last thing he needed was to have the hots for a woman he was supposed to be working with. The building blocks to success did not include romance. He’d learnt that time and time again when his previous attempts at relationships had gone south when his girlfriends began to put pressure on him to cut back on the hours he spent at work so they could spend more time together. Further proving his suspicion that having both fairy tale-style love and a career was impossible. The only compromise was partnership, two people supporting each other to further each other’s success. An arrangement his parents had down pat. A united front at work functions. But behind the door of their family home? Short, sharp and dismissive summed it up. The only time kind words were exchanged was when a goal was met. A win had. It was the only way he’d received any attention. Not that his decision to go into event management was taken seriously by them. No doubt when his recent failure became public knowledge they’d pop open a bottle of champagne…
He pulled up a budgeting template and pushed the self-pity away. Self-pity was not what winners were made of. And even though he’d not followed the family into law or medicine as expected, he’d still become the best in his field. And he wasn’t going to let one stupid error derail everything he’d built.
A scuffle outside his bedroom door caught his attention.
‘You’re a cock-up,’ a voice yelled.
‘No, you are. Your face is a cock-up.’ The retaliation was met with another round of scuffling.
What the hell was going on out there? Why was Tony allowing people to fight in his establishment? When Jody had mentioned his accommodation she’d assured him that, despite its being above a pub, it wouldn’t be rowdy.
‘Boys. Do I need to hide your tablet again?’ The stern warning put a stop to the fighting.
Three sharp raps on his door followed. Shit, Jody was here to see him. He peered at the time on the laptop. Of course she was, they had a meeting. Which she’d brought her sons to. Something she’d not mentioned and something he couldn’t condone. If he’d wanted to work with kids he’d have been a teacher.
He marched to the door, his head full of rebukes, pulled it opened, and all his words of chastisement disappeared as the air whooshed from his stomach at the sight before him. Jody’s two young lads, with those matching sandy-blond curls, mischievous grins and knobbly knees peeping out below denim cut-offs, were smiling up at their mum with absolute adoration as she ruffled their curls. Her smile as big as theirs, with every bit as much love. This was what he’d always imagined a family would be like. A proper family. Love, laughter, teasing. Not cold, distant and perfunctory.
Jody looked up in surprise. ‘Oh, that was quick. I’ve only just knocked.’
‘Well, I could’ve heard you coming from two towns away.’ Christian swung the door open all the way and indicated for them to come in. ‘You didn’t tell me you were bringing them.’
‘“Them” have names. Tyler, Jordan, you remember Christian.’
The boys glared at him with open hostility. ‘He ruined our fun.’ Tyler narrowed his eyes.
‘Yeah. We were having a good time until he yelled at us.’ Jordan scratched at a scab on his elbow. ‘How did he not know it was a slide anyway? For an adult that’s pretty dumb.’
A pretty flush of pink hit Jody’s cheeks. ‘Sorry about these two. You’ll get used to them.’
Get used to them? What? Christian shut the door behind them. ‘Um, what do you mean, “get used to them”? They’re not going to be coming with you to all our meetings, are they?’
Jody nodded. ‘Sure they are. We’re a package deal. They go where I go.’
‘But that’s hardly professional.’ The gentle rhythmic thud of Christian’s heart began to pick up pace. This wasn’t how business was done. How was he going to ensure the festival went off without a hitch with two young people getting in the middle of things? And if the festival didn’t go off without a hitch? Goodbye career, hello humble pie.
‘You want me. You want my family.’ Jody’s hands left the boys’ shoulders and flew to her hips, her chin tilted. ‘The boys and I are a unit. We stick together. Also, there’s no one to take care of them.’
‘What about your brother? Or your friend I met earlier?’ Christian had a feeling he was clutching at straws, but wasn’t giving up easily.
‘Tony has The Bullion to run. His fiancée, Mel, helps him when she’s not running her café. Serena is on the farm most of the day and, frankly, I don’t know that she’s responsible enough to handle the two boys. She’d probably take them on a ramble and lose them.’
