Page 88 of Last Shot

‘But Nella didn’t?’

‘No. And I think Giovanni is still convinced her legal practice is just a phase. She’s managed to keep the pin in the grenade by still living on the property. I doubt she’ll be able to leave until Giovanni dies.’

‘What about Luca and Frankie?’

‘Luca will eventually concede. He doesn’t exactly have a clear direction at university like Nella did.’

‘Giovanni seems really harsh on him. Is it because of Ariana?’

‘I don’t know how much Giovanni knows about Ariana. And if he does know, he’ll never admit it to himself, because if he did – he’d have to kill them both. I think he just expects more from Luca because on paper he’s the perfect Italian son.’

‘Not Tomaso?’

‘Tomaso is a threat to Giovanni. He’s the most similar to him. He’s calculating and has a business mind. Giovanni acts on impulse, but Tom’s way more controlled – he makes better commercial decisions. If he had full steer of the ship, the Barbaranis could become the Taylor Swift of wine.’

‘Overrated?’

‘Your tough guy tattoos don’t fool me, Conrad. I saw you mouthing the words to “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart” on the drive down.’

‘You got me. Taylor’s the shit. Look.’ Max moved her shirt away from her collarbone and he pushed down the memory of his mouth against the fine-lined mirror ball she was pointing at. ‘It’s from aFolkloresong.’

‘Not going to dignify that with a response.’

‘You knew the song title off by heart.’

‘I also know the Pawlicious Cat Food jingle, because my ears have been assaulted with it fifty million times.’

He stayed quiet, aware the moment was a bubble of sea foam – delicate and temporary.

‘So does Quinton actually care about koalas and hotel developments on wetlands, or is he more interested in a particular Barbarani’s wetlands?’ Max asked.

The bubble burst.

‘How do you know about the wetland protest?’ Grey had thought his damage control on that particular situation was impeccable. He got all the footage of Frankie and her warriors taken down. For a bloody hefty price, might he add. Sophie had helped. And she hadn’t told anyone that particular story, to his knowledge.

‘There’s this site called Earth’s True Redeemers – there’s a picture of her and some guy who looks like Quinton outside the development site.’

‘Fuck. Is she tagged in it?’

‘Nah. It’s only the corner of her hair, but I recognised her shoes. You wouldn’t know it’s her unless you know her.’

‘Good eye.’

‘I just notice people’s shoes. They say a lot about someone.’

‘What do my shoes say about me?’

She laughed. ‘You don’t want me to answer that.’

‘Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.’

She leant back against the headrest, facing him. He felt naked; he’d never been so nervous to hear the response to anything before. How pathetic. He was completely pathetic.

‘You’re a runner,’ she said.

‘Wow, you really are a cop. Did you work that out from myrunnersby the door in my house?’

‘I’m not finished,’ she said. He swallowed. Audibly. ‘Your boots are practical, sturdy – you could hike up challenging terrain in them, which shows you’re always prepared to be doing something potentially dangerous. But they’re a fancy brand and you’ve polished them, which shows military history or time on the force. You’ll think I’m only saying that because I know you were in the military, but I picked up on that before. You’ve chosen a style that doesn’t look out of place in the La Marcas’ winery, which shows you care about what people think of you, even though you don’t like to admit it or be too obvious about it like Raphael. But you do. Oh, and your runners? They won’t last if you’re actually serious about running.’

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