The Maxwell Sisters (11 page)

‘You first,' she declared. ‘Where are you from?'

‘The Barossa. I was a winemaker there for five years.'

‘So why did you leave?'

He smiled a little sadly. ‘Things got complicated. Your turn. Where do you live?'

‘Perth. I'm a chef for a restaurant called Margareta's.'

‘So I heard. But didn't you used to head up the Tawny Brooks restaurant with Spider?'

‘Yes,' she snapped.

‘What happened?'

‘Things got complicated.' She smiled back.

He shook his finger at her. ‘You're smarter than you look.'

‘Much smarter,' she agreed. ‘So why does my mother like you so much?'

He winked at her. ‘What's not to like?'

‘Please.' She rolled her eyes. ‘Are you ever serious?'

‘I try very hard not to be,' he admitted. ‘So what do you think about this wedding?'

‘I think it's great,' she said, hoping he didn't hear the squeak in her voice. ‘What do you think of it?'

‘I'm not a big fan of weddings,' he admitted rather cautiously. ‘But that's all right. I probably won't be invited to this one.'

‘Not invited!' Anita broke in on their conversation, surprising them both. ‘Of course you'll be invited, Adam.'

Eve blushed. At what point had her mother started listening?

‘Phoebe,' Anita shouted down the table, ‘you'll be inviting Adam to the wedding, won't you?'

Phoebe smiled rather helplessly and Eve had a feeling she hadn't even thought about it.

‘Don't let her put you on the spot,' Adonis assured her quietly. ‘I was definitely not expecting an invitation.'

Her sister's face softened. ‘Of course you should come. Especially if you're helping us redo the restaurant.'

‘Face it, son, you're one of the family now,' John told him. ‘Might as well just toe the line. It's not too bad. I've been doing it myself for years.'

There was laughter and as the chatter moved away from them again, Eve gazed at Adam apologetically. ‘Sorry, did I just serve you up?'

He peeked up at her from the contemplation of his plate. ‘Like a trussed turkey.'

‘My family is not very good at the whole personal space thing.'

‘Actually, I'm quite sure they don't know it exists,' he smiled. ‘When I applied for this job, I didn't realise how fully integrated into the Maxwell way of life I would become.' His blue eyes took on a wistful look. There seemed to be less teasing behind his words this time. ‘Honestly, I came to Yallingup to be alone. To be silent. And instead, I've never had so much noise in my life.'

‘You didn't have to stay tonight,' Eve assured him. ‘My mother would have understood. You could have left.'

‘Really?' His eyes fairly danced at her. ‘I had a choice, did I? Then put that piece of bread back now.
Go on!
I dare you.'

‘All right, I take your point.' She grinned.

‘You're very lucky to have them, you know. Your family.'

Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘
I am?
'

‘As it turns out,' he said as he cut another piece of moussaka, ‘quiet was not what I really needed at all.'

Natasha had a strong feeling that when dinner was finally over everyone was relieved. They'd got through it! Now they could all finally retire to their bedrooms, close their doors and not have to deal with anyone until morning.

Lucky them.

Not so much for her.

As far as she was concerned, she was heading off to the most stressful part of the evening – private time with Heath. Too private for her liking.

There were five bedrooms in the house. The master bedroom for her parents. The three bedrooms that she and her sisters had used as kids and a guest bedroom containing a queen bed for visitors.

Patricia and Graeme naturally got the guest bedroom. Natasha and her sisters were to sleep in their old bedrooms with their respective partners. The seven of them made the trek down the hall to the back of the house. Phoebe and Spider were at the front, all happy and holding hands. In their wake were Patricia and Graeme, who spoke in subdued but comfortable tones. And then there was Eve. Quiet, head downcast as she followed them to her room – the only person sleeping alone.

The desperation to grab Eve's arm and whisper, ‘Can I bunk with you?' was almost uncontrollable. Pride stopped her in the nick of time.

Pride and common sense. After everything she had accused Eve of being, how could she beg for her help now?
Especially
on the back of her own failure. They'd had a small moment at dinner but she wouldn't say it was enough to erase the words they'd flung at each other the morning Eve had decided to leave Tawny Brooks – a day after the fire. The memory of her own contempt sliced through her. She had judged and condemned all in the one sitting.

Or should she say ‘standing'? The argument had happened outside, next to Eve's car. Her sister had been packing it to leave, filling it up with her suitcases and a crate of cookbooks, when Natasha had run up to stop her.

‘So you're leaving, just like that?' she'd demanded, breathless.

Eve had looked back at her blankly, her eyes red-rimmed and unseeing. ‘I don't know what to say to you, Tash.'

‘How about “I'm sorry for being so selfish”?'

‘What?' Eve's voice had been faint as she closed the boot. ‘I told you not to take Dad's money. I told you you weren't ready for a responsibility like that.'

‘So what do you want me to say, Tash?' Eve looked up, already beaten. ‘You were right? Fine, you were absolutely correct. I was destined to be a failure and now I am.'

‘You still have a chance,' she'd argued. ‘Stay and clean up your mess.'

‘I can't.'

‘Of course you can,' she remembered saying in disgust. ‘Replace the floor and start over.'

‘I don't want to.'

Natasha's mouth had dropped open. ‘
You don't want to?
Why not?'

‘You may not have noticed but in the last couple of months we've been losing diners anyway.'

‘Then fight for them. Change tactics, mix it up, I don't know. Anything but quit.'

Eve was silent for a moment, her face strangely vacant. ‘I just don't think I can.'

‘Don't be silly.'

‘I'm not like you, Tash. I can't do it. I just need to go.' She would have turned then and climbed into her car but Natasha had grabbed her by the shoulders.

‘Stop thinking about yourself. You've spent all of Mum and Dad's retirement money on that restaurant, you can't just abandon it.'

‘Tash, you need to get off my case.'

‘No, I should have pushed harder when I had the chance,' she swore. ‘I knew they shouldn't have given you the money.'

‘Really?' Eve looked stricken. ‘And why is that, Tash? Because you knew it would be a dead loss?'

‘No, Eve, because you run at the first sign of trouble. Look at you now.'

‘I've spoken about this with Dad. He's fine with me letting the restaurant go for the moment. I may come back to it eventually, I don't know, I haven't looked that far in advance. I don't want to think about it.'

Natasha had lifted a hand to massage her temple. ‘I don't believe this. How can you take advantage of him like that? You know how soft he is. Hell, you knew that from the beginning, otherwise you wouldn't have demanded he give you all his life savings.'

‘I didn't demand it,' Eve protested.

‘But you certainly had no guilt about asking for it,' Natasha threw at her.

‘Worried about your own inheritance, Tash?'

‘No,' she'd responded. ‘What if there's an emergency? What if they need the money back? I wanted our parents to have choices in their old age. Choices that you've taken away from them, and for what?'

‘It's none of your business.'

‘Of course it's my bloody business. You don't just get to burn the restaurant down and walk out.'

‘It was an accident.' Eve's voice shook ever so slightly. ‘It's not like I left those candles burning on purpose.'

‘It doesn't matter,' Natasha softened the accusation. ‘You need to ring the insurance company. You need to fix this.'

‘You can't tell me what to do, Tash.' Eve opened the door to her car.

‘Come on. Don't be a fool. You're better than this.'

‘I've got news for you.' Eve had cocked her head, a rather hysterical gurgle bubbling up her throat. ‘I'm not.'

‘I swear to God, Eve, if you drive out of here leaving our parents high and dry I'll never speak to you again.'

‘Then I guess this is goodbye.'

The car door slammed. Eve started her engine and drove off.

And true to her word, that was the last time they'd spoken. In the days that followed, Natasha had tried to help their father. If Eve wouldn't stay to salvage the restaurant then she would. But her determination was stymied when her father told her the restaurant wasn't insured – a fact that made her even more angry at Eve's irresponsibility.

She asked Heath to take a look at the damage and give advice on how to rebuild. Neither of them thought it would be that costly to replace the floor even if it wasn't covered by insurance. But their father had been adamant that the restaurant was to stay as it was until Eve was ready to return. Natasha had never felt more frustrated in her life.

‘But it's such a waste,' she had protested. ‘You're killing your own investment, Dad. Making it worse.' All that equipment they had purchased, the furniture and the decor. Was that all to go to waste? What about the staff? Were they to be fired?

Apparently so.

She should have known that her father would choose the ‘Mad Maxwell' path rather than the rational one. He'd never had a head for business. It was always their mother who had looked after the administrative side of things. For her father the vineyard was far too ‘spiritual' for him to be logical about it. And she guessed the restaurant fell into the same boat. If her father's heart wasn't in it then neither was his money.

And so the Tawny Brooks restaurant became the Tawny Brooks white elephant, remarked on by tourists as ‘bad luck' and by the locals as ‘bad blood'. After twelve months it wasn't talked about at all. Now, in hindsight, without the anger distracting her and the benefit of her own terrible secrets, she had to wonder what she should have asked years ago.

Why couldn't Eve handle staying? Was there something she didn't know?

Natasha tore her gaze from her sister's back as it disappeared down the hall. No exchange of ‘goodnight' had passed between them while she had been lost in her own thoughts.

Damn it. I hope she didn't think I snubbed her … again.

Perhaps if she had reached out, Eve would have responded like she had at dinner.

‘Tash.' The unmistakeable voice, with its rich timbre, sounded behind her and her breath caught in her throat. Heath was holding the door to their room open. It was not the first time she had slept in her childhood bedroom with him. When they had been happy, they had visited her family home quite a few times. She had been on just such a visit when the fire in the restaurant occurred. All the old single beds had long since been replaced with queens. In her room the bed was in the centre, adorned with a gorgeous white doona – an intricate vine-leaf design weaved in delicate dark green thread across it. The light wooded headboard perfectly complemented the timber flooring.

Heath wheeled in her suitcase, which he had insisted on bringing in from her car earlier, to the corner next to his. She looked at the two suitcases sitting side by side next to the bed, practically a photograph from their honeymoon. Her jaw tightened.

This is just awful. I don't want to be here.

As if to mock her words, she heard the click of the door behind her and spun around.

‘Let me out.'

‘Don't be ridiculous, Tash. Where are you going to go?'

‘Away from here. Away from you.'

‘What will that solve?'

‘It'll solve the problem I'm having right now.'

She put a hand to her dry throat as tears smarted. She held her breath like it was a lifeline.

‘Tash.' He came towards her.

‘Don't,' she squeaked, taking a step back. ‘How could you do this to me? Humiliate me like this in front of my family, in front of my hometown.'

He tilted his head sadly. ‘In what way have I humiliated you, Tash? Tell me in what way I've wronged you and I'll make amends.'

‘Where should I start?'

‘At the beginning,' he said. ‘Or should I say … the end.'

Her gaze flew to his. ‘You can't just waltz back into my life like this. My parents don't know anything about us, or the separation. And I don't particularly want to break their hearts right before my sister's wedding. When I do tell them I want to do it on my own terms and in private. Not while they're having a freakin' house party.'

‘I didn't come here to make you tell them,' he said slowly, a muscle twitching above his jaw. ‘The truth is, I haven't told anyone yet either. Not any of my friends. Not any of my work colleagues.'

She didn't know why this gave her comfort but it did. Maybe she wasn't such a coward then. It was so incredible to believe that this was where they were now.

‘When Phoebe called asking for my assistance, how could I say no?'

‘Very easily.'

‘Not without telling her the truth,' he sighed. ‘I thought you'd be pleased about this. You were so adamant after the fire that the restaurant should be restored.'

‘Restoring the restaurant isn't going to do Tawny Brooks much good if it doesn't have a chef.'

‘What about Eve?'

‘I don't know what Eve wants,' Natasha snapped, perhaps a little too harshly. ‘And I don't think she's going to listen to any advice from me. That ship has sailed.'

‘So what do you want me to do?' He stood there, at least a couple of metres away, regarding her steadily. Why did she feel like all of a sudden she was being put on the spot?

‘What do you mean?'

‘Do you want me to go?' He folded his arms. ‘In my view there are only two options here. One, I go home on some vague excuse and Phoebe finds some other engineer on short notice to supervise the restoration of the restaurant. Or, two, I stay here and pretend to be your loving husband and the dutiful brother-in-law who has offered his skills for both the betterment of the family business and the upcoming wedding.'

‘That's not fair.'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘What's not fair?'

‘Your options. Of course I'm not going to choose to ruin my sister's wedding. She'll never find another engineer at such short notice.'

‘Well, it's settled then,' he shrugged indifferently. ‘I guess I'm staying.'

As if to confirm his intention to make himself completely at home, he walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down. He lifted his foot onto his knee and began to unlace his shoes.

She glared at him. ‘What do you think you're doing?'

‘Getting undressed.' He didn't look up. ‘I was going to take a quick shower and go to bed.'

She felt the muscles in her neck tighten. ‘Not in this bed you're not.'

He sighed and finally looked up at her again. ‘Really, Tash? Do you honestly think I'd make a move on you or something?' He watched her impassively as he began to unbutton his shirt. ‘I think I know better than that.'

After they'd lost Sophia, her lack of interest in him sexually had been another wedge between them – a circumstance that he had battled so determinedly in his campaign to win her approval. She wished he had put that energy towards healing from their loss instead of trying to seduce her back to his bed. In all honesty, intimacy had frightened her back then. It just reminded her of everything that had been taken from her. His touch had not been a source of comfort, it just made her want to run. And she did. Many times.

‘I –' The words dried up at the sudden appearance of his bare torso. She looked away as a shudder rippled through her.

She wasn't aroused. Couldn't be. It was shock.

She hadn't seen him like this in nearly a year, more than that if you counted the time they were living in the same house but not sleeping together. Besides, she hadn't expected him to just whip off his shirt like she was no more than a lamp in the room.

‘Do you mind?' she muttered.

‘Mind what?' He stood up and she couldn't resist another peek at those washboard abs.

‘Can't you … I don't know …' She pointed at the walk-in wardrobe. ‘Get dressed in there?

His eyes darkened as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pants. For an awful moment, she thought he was going to whip them off as well. But in the last second his mouth pulled into a hard line. ‘Fine.' He turned around, swiped his suitcase off the floor, walked into the walk-in robe and shut the door.