Page 30 of Chasing Blue
He shakes his head as we stare at each other in silence for a long moment. I break it with a nervous, “Huh, right, so yeah, let’s get all this inside then. We’ve a lot to get through.”
Turning back to my car, I start pulling the rest of my stuff out.
“What can I help you with?” he asks, and again . . . my vagina winks at him, making it known she’s ready for some attention.
“Uh, you’ve no idea,” I mumble.
“Oh, I think I do.”
When I turn to look at him, there’s zero space between us. My face almost pressing into his chest. I swallow before looking up to meet his green gaze, which is burning a path toward my mouth.
Thump.
Thump.
My heart kicks so hard against my chest, he can probably feel its beat.
I clear my throat. “Could you grab the timber samples please?”
I step aside so he can reach them. Jack moves closer to me than necessary, pulls them from my car, and winks at me before turning and walking back towards the bar.
I grab my laptop bag, and with my head and upper body still leaning into my car, I take a moment to pull myself together.
“Eighteen years,” I whisper. “Eighteen years. Do not let him walk back in and undo all the work you’ve put in.” I nod to reaffirm what I’m telling myself, close my boot, and follow the boys inside.
* * *
Jack’sat the bar with Finn, my boards and samples spread out in front of them as they whisper in what appears to be a somewhat heated exchange, which I choose to ignore.
“I’m glad you’re here, Finn. I’d like some input on what I’ve come up with for the bar area as it’ll likely be filled with kids more your age,” I announce, sounding chirpier than I feel.
“See, Boomer, I’m the relevant one. You can leave if ya like.” He smiles at his dad cockily as he speaks.
“Harsh,” I say, reaching the bar. “Your dad’s only a couple of years older than me. We’re Millennials. Our generation, along with the Boomers and Gen Xers will be spending our money next door in the restaurant.”
Once I slip into work mode, I’m in the zone. All thoughts of sex with my client, or his son, kinda disappear. I forget about past events, stop worrying about the future, focus entirely on the now, and sell them my concept.
“The polished floor will work in both areas. It’s economical, hard-wearing, and hygienic, and if we go with the basalt colour, it’ll pick up the greys, greens, and blues of the ocean, and seat coverings. This isn’t Palmers Bay. Raw timber and sawdust work there, but not here. We want coastal, not beachy, there’s a difference.”
“Looks cool, especially with the Victorian ash timber,” Finn states.
“And, I think a huge bluestone fireplace will look good at the far end of the bar, at the opposite end to the stage area. We could get a nice big leather sofa, a couple of armchairs for that area. I’m thinking a dark tan colour,” I pull out a leather sample swatch as I talk, “to tie in with the colour of the sand. I want to bring the beach and the ocean in, but in a way that’s cool in summer and warm in winter. If we keep the tables a mix of the Vic ash and Tassie oak, we create warmth. The concrete and bluestone will keep things cool. By using a combination of downlights and timber-look ceiling fans, we finish the bar off with a contemporary look that screams upmarket but on point and trendy. Does that work for you, Finn?”
I’m conscious of the way both father and son have eyes on me, only looking away to follow the direction of where I nod or point. Jack has been mostly silent as I’ve talked through my proposal for the bar. Hopefully, that means he likes my ideas and agrees with Finn’s input.
“It’s sick, so cool. This place is gonna go off, Dad.”
I watch as Finn shoulders into Jack, who in turn throws his arm over his kid and leans in.
“Lucky you turn eighteen before we open,” he tells him.
“When’s your birthday?” I ask without thinking about how much the answer might hurt.
Jack’s eyes slice to me, and he straightens as Finn replies, “In four weeks, the twentieth of July.”
My brain does the maths. I scream at it not to, but it ignores me. And as I lean against a bar in a building I’m helping to create a business owned by the man who broke me, not just my heart, but all of me, so many years ago, I do the maths.
With his eyes pinned to mine, the realisation that Eden was four months pregnant on the night we had our fuckfest ripples through me. Jack’s eyes widen as he shakes his head, but I’m not sure what it is he’s saying no to.
