Page 32 of The Story of Us
Oh, man. This would be good. “You think so?”
“I spend a lot of time helping people figure out their problems. Like you.”
Po-tay-to. Po-tah-to. Because unless he’d changed jobs recently, Ryan was a bartender at one of Melbourne’s swanky nightclubs. Nothing against bartenders—Wyatt was one of her favourite guys in Wattle Junction—but it wasn’t the same thing.
“Only difference is sometimes people buy me a shot while they tell me all their troubles.”
A lesser person might’ve pointed out that there were several other differences, like actual tertiary qualifications and years of observations and practice, but Eloise didn’t bother. It’d been years since she’d spent any real time with Ryan, and from what she remembered, he really enjoyed the sound of his own voice. But the last few years had been rough on him. She should show him some grace.
The instructor called “turn”, which brought her face to face with Nate. His dark brown eyes bored into hers, a wave of awareness washing over her already overheated skin. When Nate’s eyes flicked to the back of Ryan’s head and his jaw clenched, Eloise realised what was happening.
And no. Nope. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.
Nate didn’t want her. He mightn’t have said those actual words, but it was clear from his actions the other night that nothing was ever going to happen between them.
She turned back towards Ryan, looked at him properly. He was an attractive guy. Not her usual type with his preppy style and what she suspected were salon-created highlights, but it wasn’t like her usual type was working out for her.
“I must be in the wrong business,” she replied.
“Not really. The long hours can be a total drag, but I like to think I’m helping people. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”
A chunk of her hair came free, and Eloise tried to blow it off her face.
“Here.” Ryan reached for it and tucked it behind her ear.
“Ow! Nate. My feet,” Bianca cried.
Eloise didn’t need to turn around to know Nate was watching her. His attention was a heavy weight against the back of her neck, her shoulders.
Don’t react.
The music paused.
“What are you doing after this?” Ryan’s question echoed through the room, bouncing off the mirrors.
The real answer was watchingGolden Girlsreruns with Joanie, but Eloise said, “Nothing. Why?”
Ryan tossed her what he undoubtedly thought was a winning smile. “Want to grab a drink?”
In the mirror, Nate’s expression shuttered, his brows pulling low and his mouth flattening. And you know what, if Eloise had been so wrong about Nate, maybe she was wrong about Ryan as well.
“Sure.” What was the worst that could happen?
* * *
For the secondtime in a week, the dining room of the Wattle Junction Hotel fell silent when Eloise opened the door.
“There’s a spot over there.” Ryan pointed to a table underneath one of the stained-glass windows near the entrance to the beer garden. Eloise’s steps faltered. It was also right next to where Alice was sitting with Owen and the rest of the James family. “I’ll grab us a drink and meet you over there.”
“I just remembered I promised to help Joanie with something tonight …”
Ryan slung his arm around her shoulders, and Eloise stiffened. If a room could draw in a breath, there would’ve been a draught in here.
“C’mon, one drink. Also, your grandmother’s over there.”
There was no disguising the question on Joanie’s face. It was echoed on Lulu’s. Her parents’.
I really, really didn’t think this through.
