Sharp Turn - Marianne Delacourt [55]
It was a blunt and surprising admission that I didn’t know how to answer. Eventually I decided to respond in kind – honestly.
‘You’re a married man trying to keep his marriage on track, Nick. You’re the last person I’d consider seeing. But . . .’
‘But what?’
‘But yes, there’s something there. I mean . . . an attraction. Maybe if we “out” it, it’ll go away.’
Fat chance on my part, I knew.
He thought about what I’d just said. ‘Acknowledgment of a problem is usually the first step to solving it.’
I frowned, not liking being referred to as ‘a problem’. ‘Yeah, I guess.’
He beamed as if I’d just solved an epic puzzle for him. ‘Okay then. Eat up and I’ll drive you home.’
As we turned off the highway towards Lilac Street, Tozzi said, ‘I have someone who could keep an eye on you.’
I shook my head. ‘I’ve got my own security guy.’
‘What? You mean that red-headed guy who looks like a reject from a methadone program?’
‘Wal knows what he’s doing,’ I said defensively.
‘You said he was watching out for Bolo.’
‘Only for a few days.’
‘Well, the offer’s there.’ He pulled up just down from JoBob’s driveway but didn’t turn the motor off. ‘We’re friends, Tara, aren’t we?’
I nodded, albeit a bit miserably.
‘Please let me have someone watch your back.’
I shook my head stubbornly. ‘You helped me out tonight. That’s enough.’
He squeezed the steering wheel in frustration. ‘Fine. Good night.’
I reefed myself out of the car, trying not to look at the stains on the seat, and headed for bed.
Chapter 18
THE DISCOVERY THAT I really did have someone following me weighed heavily the next morning. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get to Hoshi Hara’s for another lesson in self-defence. I also wanted to hole out at home with chocolate but this was my last chance to nose around Team Chesley to see if I could get any feel for trouble.
‘Cass,’ I said as I pulled food containers from the van fridge, ‘I’ve got to do a lot of digging around today. Can you hold the fort? I’ll be back to drop in the orders.’
‘Sure.’
She was already engrossed in chopping salad and prepping the deep fryer, so I left her to it and hurried straight to the Chesley bay.
The roller door was up, and a Kawasaki was out the front, being washed down by a skinny young guy who could have been T-Dog’s brother. George Shakes – jeweller and international gourmand – looked on. His partner, Frosty Hardwick, was nowhere to be seen.
At the back of the garage, a table was laid out with containers of food. Sharee had been right about Chesley having caterers. (In fact, George Shakes looked like he’d had one for a fair while.) I pretended I hadn’t noticed the food and approached Shakes.
‘Hi. I’m Tara from the food van. Would either of you like to pre-order lunch?’
Shakes scowled at me. ‘We do our own.’ His red aura was thick like arterial blood but marred by white splotches – I wasn’t sure what that meant.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Fair enough.’
He scowled a bit harder. ‘Who are you? You look familiar. Have we met?’
Actually, we had. Smits had forced me along to one of Shakes’ jewellery soirées one evening when Henry couldn’t make it. The food had been fabulous but the company not so. I’d spent an hour dodging the sticky hands and whiny voice of Phillip Dewar, the drunken idiot my mother had been trying to hook me up with for years. It was all I could do to corral my desire to punch him through one of George Shakes’ expensive glass cabinets. Fortunately, Smitty caught my mood and had steered me out of there before mayhem ensued.
‘Maybe,’ I said in answer to Shakes’ question.
He nodded as if to dismiss me, but I wasn’t leaving yet.
‘Great-looking bike you’ve got there. Maybe I should put my money on you on Sunday?’ I said in the dumbest manner I could manage.
Shakes’ aura flared with emotion though his face gave little away.
I continued to prod. ‘But I like the black bike too. I can’t decide. That Lu Red’s such a cute guy. Hey, that’s funny, isn