Page 32 of Below Deck Billionaire
‘And then the rains come and everything is lush and green and the creeks flood and the billabongs fill up and the rivers rise and the gum trees flower and the wattles bloom like fluffy bursts of sunshine and it smells fresh and green and lovely.’
‘You miss it.’
The heat of his gaze scorched the top of her head. ‘Yes,’ she murmured, because sometimes she missed it so much it hurt to breathe. ‘And no.’ Because mostly she really didn’t miss all the bloody drama. She turned then to face the sea, resting her bent arms on the edge, a sigh escaping into the sultry Aegean air. ‘It’s complicated.’
Theo turned too, resting his elbows next to hers. They weren’t touching, but Tiffany was excruciatingly aware of the heat pouring off his body. As if sensing she didn’t want to talk about her contradictory answer, Theo scrolled on, the light from the screen illuminating the planes and angles of his face and the way the hollows beneath his cheeks gave way to the granite cut of his jaw.
‘Is this a current exhibition?’
‘No, he has his own gallery he leases in Sydney. Well, gallery-slash-studio-slash-apartment. He lives upstairs in a cramped flat, paints out the back and has a small area in the front where he displays his art.’
‘And does he make a living out of it?’
Tiffany gave a half laugh, thinking about the amount of debt her brother was in. ‘Not yet, no. But he will.’ She’d never had any doubt about that. ‘He’s not exactly a starving artist. He makes ends meet. But it’s tough getting a toe hold in the art space even if you are insanely talented. Especially if you have to split your focus between creating and selling.’
Add to that a relationship that had cleaned him out and a couple of other bad financial decisions when he’d first hightailed it to Sydney, and Mikey had been in quite the hole when Tiffany had started working her first cruise ship. He’d been facing down the possibility of fulfilling their father’s prophecy of doom and returning home with his tail between his legs and, still angry with her dad, Tiffany hadn’t been able to bear the thought.
So she’d offered to help, sinking most of the money she’d earned the past seven years into a gallery that barely broke even.
‘Sounds like he needs a benefactor,’ Theo mused as he scrolled.
‘He has one.’
Of sorts. Maybe that was giving too much away, but she was proud that she’d been able to help Mikey get back on track. And not just because she knew that one day he’d be a super-rich, super successful artist in his own right but because it would be a bigscrew youto their father.
Immature? Sure. But no less valid.
He didn’t say anything for a beat or two but, even looking out into the dark abyss of a moonless sea, Tiffany felt the fan of his gaze like a searchlight on her profile. ‘You?’
Lifting her chin, she turned to meet his eye. ‘I co-own the gallery, yes.’ And she was honoured to be a part of Mikey’s artistic enterprise.
‘That’s very generous of you.’
She shrugged. This was her kid brother; what else was she going to do? ‘It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.’
He chuckled as he handed back the phone, and Tiffany shivered at the low rumble of air despite the warmth of the night. ‘Maybe not but I know how much you earn on a cruise ship.’
It was true; work on a cruise ship wasn’t exactly money for jam, but with no food or accommodation costs, no utility bills to pay, no car to upkeep, no need for expensive holidays when every day the ship docked in a different port, outlays were minimal. And a lot of money could be earned in tips.
‘But I don’t have any real expenses. And I’m hardly going to let Mikey sink when I can help him swim. My father might think that’s okay, but I don’t.’
A slow smile pulled at the corners of his generous mouth and put a sparkle in his eyes. ‘I’m getting the feeling you and your father don’t get… on so well?’
Tiffany found herself smiling at his deliberate understatement and at the deftness of his approach. If he’d asked her outright she might have told him to mind his own business, but that smile slipped under her defences. ‘You could say that.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Tiffany blinked at the unexpected apology. The situation with her father was not his fault, yet there was compassion and empathy in the silky blue depths of his eyes.
‘That must be hard,’ he continued. ‘I’m very close with my father. And it seems like from the little I’ve gleaned these past few weeks that you were once close to yours, right?’
‘Yeah.’ She nodded. ‘I was.’ As she turned back to the ocean, a slight breeze picked up a stray lock of hair that had escaped the up-do and blew across her face. It also wafted a hit of aniseed in her direction. ‘And then I walked in on him… in flagrante in a shed with a neighbour’s wife when I was twelve and it ripped the blinkers right off my eyes.’
‘Tiffany.’ It was a hush, a whisper laced with empathy, and she shut her eyes to squeeze back the hot prick of tears. ‘I’m sorry you had to see that.’
Her breath got tangled around the lump in her throat. Again with the apologising. She knew this man barely at all compared to her father and yet Theo had apologised to her twice within a few minutes about things that were not of his doing. Unlike her father, who had never apologised for anything that had rippled from that day onwards.
‘It probably would have been all right if it had been just that. But he begged me not to tell my mother. He said if nobody knew then nobody could be hurt and that it might break the marriage up, that he’d probably have to leave or that Balmain Downs might even have to be sold and it would be all my fault.’
