Liam rubbed fingertips over grainy eyes. The two hours sleep he’d had didn’t count as a full night’s rest. The abrupt way he’d left Clover didn’t sit well. He never left people — women — like he had. He inwardly cringed as he went over the way he bumbled his way out of the kiss and her house. Clover had called it a mistake. The thing was, it felt more right to him than anything else.
He should have had more strength than to let things progress the way they had. He had never given into temptation like that. Had always thought of the future, every step carefully evaluated. Last night was totally out of character for him and it had been so easy to succumb. His reasons and evaluation had been a mere blip, something to step across without thought, surrendering to his basic physical needs.
He needed to do something to take his mind off Clover and all she represented. Best not to dwell on things you could ever have. He sighed, rubbed his eyes again, knowing that he had to endure this sweet torture until the time came for him to find the next city. The next Upper Crust to build and deliver to Sinclair and Sons. Work to the never-ending cycle of one business after another.
For the first time, that was a chore.
One he’d happily thrown himself into after Tania. Once he’d thought she was the one. They made plans for a future together, but it all fell apart that night he’d caught her and his CFO in bed together. He’d gone to yet another business event, then turned back half-way, needing to feel Tania in his arms, the wrap of her warm body and her love around him. He’d stopped for chocolates and flowers on the way home. Had been excited about surprising her.
He’d been the one to be surprised. It wasn’t so much the look of shock on her face, but the anger she spat at him for barging in on her. That was something he’d never get over. He’d lost his future life, and the woman he wanted to grow old with, and she was angry with him for coming home early.
She defined the term gold-digger.
His father had told Liam what women were like, but he’d preferred naivety over reality. His father had been proven right. Every time Liam looked at his father, he saw ‘I told you so’ written on the old man’s face.
He’d listened to him ever since that disaster, and he’d keep listening him for the rest of his life. Anything to escape the heartache Tania had subjected him to.
He opened the packet of aspirin and took two with a gulp of water. The onset of a headache pushed behind his eyes. His brother and father were due any minute. He checked the knot in his tie, brushed the plaster dust from his shoulders and walked through the door to wait for them outside of the shop.
‘Mr. Sinclair?’
Liam turned. It was Jordie, his head tradesman. He been so lost in the turmoil of his thoughts, he hadn’t seen him approach from across the street. Liam purposefully pushed the headache from his immediate worries and concentrated on the burly man speaking to him. He needed to present himself as the man in charge, not as a love-sick fool. There was no way his father would abide that. ‘Yes?’
Jordie handed over a piece of paper to Liam. ‘There’s extensive work to be done in the house. The burst pipe was the tip of the ice-berg. We can fix that today, but…’
‘What is it, Jordie?’
‘The pipes in the house are a century old. I don’t know how they’ve held out so long.’ Jordie scratched his head.
Liam had some idea. A woman who was as good with a wooden spoon as a spanner. He nodded, prompting the tradie on.
‘If we fix the pipe, with new fittings, I don’t know if the rest will cope with the extra pressure. I mean, that pipe will be new and work perfectly, but it might cause the older pipes trouble.’
Liam read through Jordie’s list. It seemed the entire house needed to be plumbed. He couldn’t leave Clover and Gloria with a band-aid fix. ‘Do whatever you need to do. Fix the whole house.’
Jordie took the paper back. ‘If we do that, I’m not sure how long the fit-out to the shop will take.’
‘Do you have extra plumbers available?’
Jordie nodded.
‘Fix the pipe today. We need running water in that house. Then get a team together to renovate the plumbing, starting tomorrow. Get anything you need for the repair and put it on the Upper Crust account.’
‘Ok, Mr. Sinclair. I’ll get on it now.’
Jordie turned, taking his mobile phone from his top pocket.
‘Oh, Jordie, if any sinks, basins or anything need to be replaced, just ask Gloria, the lady that lives there, what she’d like, and replace that too. If you’re going across the road for lunch, just, ahh, don’t get Clover involved in this. Better still, don’t let her know what’s going on. Let the other boys know, too. Think of this as kind of a…surprise.’
‘Sure thing.’ Liam caught a smile, before the tradie turned to do his job.
* * *
Clover was tired. More tired than usual. Lack of sleep often did that to her, compounding the effects of a physical day. She’d been unable to go to sleep because of a kiss she hadn’t wanted or asked for and still couldn’t seem to push from her mind. Clover checked the bread in the covered bowl she’d set aside that morning. She always liked the smell of raising bread in the morning. Made it more earthy.
It had been a nice kiss, well, a great kiss. She rolled the risen dough onto the floured surface and started kneading. Hell, it had knocked her socks off. Left fist. Exactly what she hadn’t wanted. Right fist. Clover blew a strand of hair from her face. Making dough usually let off steam, but this morning it didn’t have the desired effect.
She rolled the soft dough into a long sausage. The dough would make great lunch rolls. She’d add them to today’s menu. Take the rest to the shelter at finish time.
She knew exactly what she wanted to do and where she wanted to be. No diversions. She’d never got so caught up before. Now the sausage was too thick, so she had to start again. This time less force. She just didn’t need a man in her life, no matter how good he was at kissing. She certainly didn’t need to feel so damn good because of it. She picked up a broad-bladed knife and chopped the sausage into sections. Chop. Chop. Chop. The blade made a satisfactory thump on the cutting board. What was it about Liam that had her all confused about her simple life’s rules?
‘Man trouble?’
‘Huh? Clover looked up to see Holly lounging on the doorframe. Holly looked from the knife in Clover’s hand to the small blobs of dough scattered over the bench. ‘Are you planning to make rolls for dwarves?’
Clover kept in the sound of frustration as she gathered the bits of dough and started kneading. Again.
‘I’m okay. Just couldn’t sleep last night,’ Clover said.
Holly locked her arms over her chest and rested a hip on the bench. ‘Ah-huh. Any reason you want to particularly share?’
Clover opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again. She didn’t want to tell Holly about the kiss. She would get it into her match-making head that there was something between Liam and herself and go all out to get them together.
‘No reason.’ The kiss wasn’t the problem. It was the fact she’d let him do it. Just stood there, waiting for him to plant his mouth on hers. She hadn’t the will power or the inclination to stop him. And it had been so nice to let him do it to her. So nice to feel desired, wanted. Nice to give in to what she craved. Just for a moment. A nano-second of bliss.
Then reality had stepped in. Knew where a kiss could lead and that she couldn’t let it pull her into its sweet embrace. The nagging weight of responsibility pushed on her shoulders and she had listened, like she always did. Responded by letting him walk back out her door, angry that she had let it happen in the first instance. Besides, she’d be getting into bed with the enemy. She just couldn’t do that.
‘No reason, or something happened and you don’t want to share?’
Clover looked into her friend’s eyes and recognised the perceptive light glimmering in them. Liam had admitted to the error of that kiss. A mistake, something to pretend hadn’t happened. Maybe that was the most hurtful thing.
She knew he was right. That he would eventually leave town and she’d probably never see him again. Maybe that was all right. Maybe she could have cut herself some slack for a time, let her body find the relief it craved, then he would go and she could get back to looking after all the things she had to look after. Competitor or not, she might have been able to deal with that. But he hadn’t given her the opportunity to even contemplate it.
Just stepped away from her, mumbling something about too much wine, making her feel as though she was some sort of leper. A poverty ridden leper. Well, money, or lack of it, didn’t make a person. But he was rich, and the rich didn’t mingle with people like her. Her father had found that out and it had cost him. Had cost them all.
In those dark days after her father had died, when she didn’t know where money would come from and how the bills were going to get paid, even in all that uncertainty, people came to help. And the way they helped was with a meal. Lovingly cooked with their own hands and a great deal of empathy. Made her feel she wasn’t all alone in the world. She knew just how good meals like that could taste. How loved she could feel. How it transformed not just her day, but her life.
That was why she made too much food during the day. Just in case someone needed her food. It was her way to pay it forward. That was something Liam Sinclair would never know the meaning of.
She punched the dough, leaving a fist mark in the soft, gooey centre. She didn’t care about money. She just wanted enough to get by on, look after her mother, repair the house. She had no interest in being stinking rich. Where did that get you as a person? Money was a means to an end. She just didn’t seem to have enough of it right now, but hard, consistent work would see that change.
Liam had different ideas. Being connected with someone like her wasn’t in his social scene. She’d had plenty of experience from people of that kind, carrying on about laws and litigations on food they couldn’t sell. The worry, the false claims it would hurt their business too much. She knew how to ignore it. But today, knowing those things went on hurt more than usual.
‘Why are you asking?’
‘The way you’re pounding that dough. I know something’s up. Spit it out.’
She plonked the dough into a metal container, wrapped some cling wrap to the top and set it aside to rise. ‘Nothing has happened. A water pipe burst in the kitchen last night. I had to take a cold shower.’ What she’d needed in more ways than one. ‘That’s all.’
‘Seen Liam this morning?’ Holly tilted her head to the side.
‘I have been too busy to even think about him.’ Clover took the bag of flour and measured some into a bowl to start on the muffins.
‘So you didn’t see that big black limo drive up across the road?’
‘No. And I don’t care. Maybe it’s some stinking rich business partner come to see the damage of that stupid shop.’
Holly pursed her lips. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’
‘Nothing is going on. Nothing. I’m just extremely busy and very tired and I don’t have time to look out for limos. And I don’t care who’s in them, and I don’t care what they have to do with Liam Sinclair.’
‘You’re going to tell me about whatever’s happened, because something clearly has. But for now, I thought you’d like to know about the limo and Liam’s specials guests, because the three of them are heading over here now.’
Clover bolted past Holly, knocking the bowl of flour to the floor. Flour billowed through the kitchen, covering the bench and the floor in a halo of white. ‘Oh, no!’ Clover gasped.
‘You got whatever it is bad, girl,’ Holly said, reaching for the broom.
Clover peeked around the kitchen door frame and three men stepped through the front door. One of them she recognised and her stomach twisted on the spot. Her breath pulled in her lungs and for an instant all she could think of was how fantastic his mouth felt kissing hers. Then her lungs began to function and the room came back into focus.
One of the men looked to be a little younger than Liam, the other older. All had the same distinct facial arrangements. Defined jaw, long, straight nose and unruly, light brown hair.
The older man had a small paunch, but otherwise looked to be very fit and lean. His eyes scanned the small area, noting everything in a single glance. Her heart hammered when she saw a slight scowl to the set of his lips. He adjusted his belt and put his hands on his hips, an arrogant gesture.
She liked the younger man immediately. He looked about him with open curiosity. There were crinkles around the edges of his eyes, and the tips of his mouth turned upwards. He leant towards Liam, spoke and then laughed. The sound filled the café. Heads turned and Clover noted that several female faces paused. The three men together looked a powerful, masculine force and Clover didn’t blame them for looking. They were an attractive bunch. They weren’t to know what one of the men was like beneath his handsome exterior.
‘Go out there. Tell them we don’t have any room available,’ Clover hissed to Holly.
As though on cue, a table of giggling girls left, making room for the men in the busy café. ‘Looks like fate is having a say,’ Holly said.
Clover spun, stopping Holly. ‘You can’t let them in. I can’t cook for them. Tell them we’re closing…’
Holly made a clucking noise, then said, ‘Chicken.’ She gave her an all knowing look, moved past her and greeted the men.
As Holly approached, the younger man’s eyes lit with interest. With her white hair with pink highlights, elfin features and wispy figure, she could pull attention. But when she led them to the recently vacated table and the younger man’s eyes followed her, all Clover could do was roll hers. It seemed flirting was in her blood.
Holly took their orders and cleared the table. A large smile lit her face and every joint in her body. ‘You wouldn’t believe it. Those are Liam’s father and brother! And he brought them here. Isn’t he handsome?’
‘Who. The father?’ Clover asked.
Holly lifted a dainty brow. ‘The brother. His name’s Connor. Doesn’t he look like a Connor, all Scottish and highlanderish and rugged and…’
‘And eyes off. Take my advice, if he’s anything like the brother, you’d be best to stay away. Emotional cripple doesn’t start to define them.’
‘You’re going to tell me what happened last night.’
‘No can do. Busy filling orders.’ Clover took the order from Holly. ‘This’ll be ready in ten.’ The faster she started, the faster they would leave.
All three plates were ready and piled with the sweet smell of freshly made food. Clover peeked out from the kitchen. ‘Holly. Service.’
From behind the coffee machine, Holly picked up a coffee mug. ‘I’m busy with coffee. Can you bring the order out?’
Clover shook her head. ‘No. I have more orders to fill.’
Holly clucked again and headed outside with a filled tray with coffee mugs without another word. Clover bit her lip. The food needed to be delivered while it was hot. Taking a deep breath, she balanced the plates, and carefully relaxed her features. If she knew how to face a school full of bullies because she wore second hand clothes, she knew how to face Liam Sinclair and his family.
She reached the table, placing a genteel smile on her mouth. She was, after all, the proud owner of this café. ‘Calamari with a salad of fresh herbs, chorizo, Kalamata olives and smoked paprika aioli. Roasted rare beef baguette, rocket, shaved Parmesan, caramelised onion and mustard aioli. And the Salmon gravlax citrus cured, roasted baby beets, goat’s curd, walnuts and orange glaze.’ She carefully avoided Liam’s watchful eyes as she arranged the plates on the table. ‘Enjoy your lunch, gentlemen.’
‘Clover, wait.’
The words caught her just as she was about to start her hasty retreat. She turned, looking calmly down at Liam. She needed to remain professional, despite her heart looking to hammer its way from her chest. As she rested her eyes on Liam, a lick of flame heated her throat and all she could think about was the word ‘mistake’. Heat flared in her cheeks. She daren’t move, careful not to break her brittle exterior of professionalism and bland politeness. She couldn’t speak. The heat from her throat was turning to glue in her mouth.
All she became aware of were a pair of intelligent cinnamon eyes that contained a heady mix of emotion. ‘I’d like to introduce my father, Henry Sinclair. And my brother, Connor.’
She pulled herself together enough to smile and nod to each of the men. ‘Good afternoon.’ She was surprised she sounded so calm, when inside she was ready to spit and curse and tell Liam how she felt. But that wasn’t going to get her anywhere; besides he’d made himself perfectly clear, and nothing she could say was going to change that.
‘Liam tells me that you’re the owner of this cafe.’ Henry nailed her with an astute appraisal. She felt as though she were in the middle of a job interview.
‘Yes. We’ve only recently opened.’
‘Looks like you’ve got a good crowd already.’
Clover nodded, pleasure crossing her features. ‘It seems like it’s going well. I hope it continues.’
‘Nervous about the Upper Crust opening across the road?’
It seemed that Henry wasn’t backwards in coming forward. Then again, he was a multi-billionaire who ran Australia’s largest building corporation. There was no way he’d hop around a subject in a boardroom or anywhere else. Clover clenched her jaw, before responding.
‘No. Not really. We make a stand here at Four-Leaf Clover. Enough food for everyone. That’s my motto.’ She ignored Liam’s sharp gaze, keeping her eyes locked on his father. If they wanted confrontation about what they did, what she didn’t like, she’d stand up for the voiceless, no worries.
‘Dad, I haven’t seen you in nine months. Let’s just eat lunch and leave the business talk until later,’ Liam said. Clover gasped. Nine months and he hadn’t seen his father? That was something she found hard to understand. Her gaze slipped to his brother. How long had it been since they’d been together?
‘I think this is appropriate conversation. She’ll be affected.’ Henry indicated Clover with a jerk of his thumb. ‘I want to know what she thinks about Upper Crust opening. About these new food laws working in parts like this. You seem very — interested — in what we do with the bread we can’t sell. It’ll affect you too, you know.’
‘Those laws stating that restaurants need to dispose of their food in a locked rubbish bin instead of feeding hungry people?’
Henry regarded her with cool, almost colourless eyes. Here was another corporate who didn’t know the meaning about what they were trying to stop. She felt heat creeping up her neck.
‘Yes, those laws exactly. We need standards in Australia,’ Henry said. ‘What would happen if you were sued by someone who suffered food poisoning from your café? That could happen, and you might lose everything. Doesn’t that scare you? Losing something you’ve built because someone sees an opportunity to make some easy money?’
Heat flared her cheeks. She knew she was being baited by Henry, but she also didn’t want to step down.
‘What about starving children? Just because they’re poor doesn’t mean they should starve.’
She was aware of Liam’s sharp gaze on her. It was so intense, her eyes flew to his. Her breath caught. Instead of seeing anger, as she’d expected, she saw…compassion. And understanding.
And…respect.
She didn’t expect that. She licked suddenly dry lips.
‘It’s just that a business like Upper Crust can make a stand. You could make a big difference. If you change, it would set the standard for more large businesses to follow.’
Henry shook his head. ‘That’s a very naive statement, young lady.’
‘I think it makes good business sense,’ Liam said.
Clover went numb all over. It was all she could do but stare at Liam. He was standing up for her. Could it be he…agreed? She could hardly contemplate the thought.
‘How so?’ Henry brows shot upwards on his handsome face.
‘Good PR for a start. Upper Crust has been in the paper for the wrong reasons lately, whether we like it or not. It would make sense to change our inner business model.’
As far as Clover could see, Henry only waited for Liam to finish talking. The man had already made up his mind.
‘Too costly for a start. And do you actually think it’s good business to take on government. Think about the man-power. Think about the legal fees if we go down that track. That’s not what this business is about. We might be big, but the government is bigger.’
‘That’s an excuse,’ Clover said.
Henry turned his attention back to her. ‘You’ll see soon enough. This is new for you. You’re full of ideals. But wait for the years to tick over and see what people are like. If I can give you any advice, it’s that people will take whatever you can give. And they will, mark my words. Then you’ll be crying and wonder where all your hard work went. What do you think about that?’ Henry’s face was as red as hers and she fleetingly wondered what had happened to make him so hard.
Henry wasn’t open at all to change anything. In fact, it was as though she’d not spoken at all for all the consideration he was giving her.
‘I know what she thinks about it.’ Liam rested his eyes on her, unwavering and knowing. Then he looked back at Henry. ‘We didn’t come here to argue something that should be spoken about in a board-room. I brought you here to eat lunch. Clover is a very good cook. You’ll be impressed. That’s why I suggested coming here. To enjoy lunch with my father.’
‘Not much impresses me nowadays, my boy. I’ve eaten at the very best. I’ll let you know if I think she’s a good cook or not.’ Henry’s sharp gaze flipped from Liam to her.
‘If you’ll excuse me.’ She had had enough. She walked back into the kitchen, trying not to stamp her feet. For all the impact she’d made, a brick wall would listen more. But Liam had understood. More than she’d given him credit more. A tiny chink chipped away from her heart.
And she panicked.
She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t think that maybe Liam understood. He looked at her as though he did. He’d understood. She’d seen it on his face. The compassion. The understanding. She didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to know it. She didn’t need this now. Or ever. He’d assessed logically. That’s all. Good PR. That’s all it would be to him. Nothing more. A way to make Upper Crust stronger in the public eye. A means to make more people buy from him.
And take away her own customers away from her business. She hadn’t thought about that, had she? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
With shaking legs she managed to make it outside where she sagged against the wall out of sight. She didn’t want to talk to Liam, she didn’t think she’d have the strength. She dropped her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.
‘I need to talk to you about last night.’
Liam’s masculine tones hit the soft centre of her heart. She reeled from the wall, opening her eyes. It had started raining and she was cold. She rubbed her arms, wondering how long she had been out here.
‘I thought you said all you needed to say to me last night.’ She hugged herself, warding off the chill. He stood close to her, his masculine scent chased away the smell of the rain. Or was the damp air helping to surround her with it? Either way, it was making clear thinking hard.
‘I don’t want animosity between us,’ Liam said.
He looked so sincere, if she was more of a fool, she just might believe him. Her defences rose.
‘I’m not the one to call a kiss a mistake.’ She wanted to forget what happened last night, but she’d brought it to the fore.
His gaze dropped to her mouth the way it had last night before he’d kissed her. His face hardened. Hungry. He swallowed. Clover watched his throat move.
‘We both can’t afford anything to develop between us.’
Funny how those words tore into a little section of her heart. She nodded stiffly. ‘That’s right.’
‘I wanted to tell you I don’t usually act like that. You won’t have to worry about things like that from me. You can expect me to be professional. On all levels.’
She didn’t know what to expect from him, but his admission left her strangely deflated. Professional was what she wanted. What she’d been talking to herself day and night about. It was the only answer to their behaviour. Yet besides all that, she felt her forehead pull into a frown.
She was so significantly affected by him, even the scent of him set her insides rolling. This, whatever this was, was something that had nowhere to go. Things had never been so unclear in her life. Before she’d met Liam, life had been busy and simple, now it was just plain complicated and busy.
She caught his gaze. ‘Good. See that it is.’
Liam held out his hand. It was there right in front of her — a gesture of understanding. She pressed her fingers into his hand. There was not the slightest hint of anything else besides a firm, business-like handshake. Just what he’d promised. The only course of action that could happen between them.
A little voice deep down inside protested. Resolutely she ignored it.