Chapter Eight

After Liam took Henry through the fit out and schedules, Henry rounded on him. ‘Tell me about the girl who runs the café.’

Liam went into protection mode. He didn’t want to tell his father about Clover. What possessed him to introduce Clover to Henry was now beyond him. He should have known Henry would have nothing complimentary to say about her. It had been this way after Tania. Maybe he’d just gotten used to it so much it had taken meeting Clover to see how often his father chipped away at the same judgment.

He’d wanted to show her off. Make his father see her as a person without blemishing her as another Tania. He decided to keep it about business, see where Henry would take his comments. He shrugged his shoulders, playing non-committal. ‘She owns it. I thought you’d like the lunch.’

‘Lunch was perfectly acceptable if you like that type of thing. The trouble with these cafes is that they don’t get down to the basics. People like basics. Like Upper Crust. None of that fancy stuff, just bread, rolls and such.’

Liam almost choked. ‘I thought you liked that kind of food.’

‘What was so urgent you needed to talk to her?’ Henry purposely avoided Liam’s statement and he knew it. Henry never offered explanations about what he did or what he said.

Liam ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Nothing.’

‘Let me tell you about girls like her. She’s a worker. Probably a hard worker. But that’s what she’s used to. People like her don’t feel comfortable with people like us.’

‘Who are people like us?’

‘People with money. And people like her like people like us because of money. They know what they do well enough, but they can’t see a way out of it unless they use someone else’s money to get rich.’

‘She’s not like that at all. She’s off every night to the shelter. She feeds people who can’t afford to pay her.’ The picture of Clover kissing him, or doing anything more with him, to get his money was the most out-of-place thought. It didn’t make sense. That wasn’t what she was about.

Henry grunted. ‘Not much business sense then.’ He laid a hand on Liam’s shoulder. ‘I’ve seen it all, son. They make you believe anything, but they have their eye on the one goal. And it isn’t you. It’s what you can give them. That girl has a life of hard work ahead of her. Don’t you think she’d do anything not to?’

‘I find that very hard to believe about her.’

‘Believe it or not, it’s true.’ Henry narrowed his eyes at Liam. ‘Is there anything between you?’

Liam slowly shook his head. That was what the turmoil of last night was about. Not to have anything between them.

‘Good, you keep your eyes on the big picture. The most important picture. Upper Crust. It’s the only thing that’s going to stand by without ripping you off. Don’t forget about what happened last time.’

How could he forget when his father reminded him at every chance. Liam sighed. ‘Dad, I want to talk to you about the food litigation…’

‘That dammed girl’s gotten under your skin. I thought as much. Listen to me. We will not change what Upper Crust is dong about food litigation. We are throwing out our food into locked bins no matter how many people are supposedly hungry. I don’t want the bad publicity and I don’t want the ligation. Do you understand?’

Henry pinned Liam with a lasting stare, then wandered over to the tradies for their reports. They stood in a line, nervous and attentive. Everyone stood to attention when Henry Sinclair was in.

He understood. Everything went Henry’s way, and when people disagreed, Henry still got his way. It had been like that all the years he could remember. It was only now he’d seen it and what a hard nut to chew it was.

Liam watched his father speaking with Jordie. His father knew how to read people. He hadn’t got so far in business without that ability. And still, Henry’s accusation sat uncomfortably in his mind. Henry all but accused Clover of money-grabbing. The idea was ludicrous.

She had a café to pay off, and a house that was in desperate need of restoration and she still gave whatever she had away. Outwardly, Clover did need his money, but she’d made no mention of wanting it. She hadn’t even said a word about his obvious wealth.

But still, his father was always right when it came to people — make that women. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. His headache had pushed behind his forehead, pounding with every beat of his heart. His father always saw in worst in people, and that was his best quality. It had steered him well through all these years, avoiding bad financial decisions and the global financial crisis. Upper Crust had progressed from strength to strength and it was because of Henry Sinclair. He just had to trust his father might be right in this instance too. No matter how badly it sat.

A slap on his back had him blinking daylight into focus.

‘I like her.’ Connor’s cheery face made him return the smile. Connor always had a way of cutting through the crap and make him brighten out of whatever mood he was in.

‘Nothing’s going on.’

Connor rolled his eyes. ‘Of course something is. As soon as she stepped by our table you never took your eyes off her.’

Liam went to run his hand through his hair, but stopped himself. ‘You’re seeing things.’

‘I know when you’re interested. She is too.’

Liam paused. ‘How do you know?’

‘You should have seen the two of you. You couldn’t take your eyes off her and she did her best not to look at you. Interest was written over both your faces.’

That was what had set his father off. If Connor noticed it would have been a red target for Henry. ‘Seen the optometrist lately?’ Liam queried.

Connor threw his head back and barked a laugh. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but I know when you’re interested. You were the same way with Donna Haybury.’

‘Donna…Hay? I was eighteen years old!’

‘And totally in love.’

‘Connor, I’m an adult now. I’ve grown up since then. And can control myself a little better than I did back then.’

‘C’mon. Hiring a quartet to play at the dinner you took her to for her eighteenth birthday was a very thoughtful gesture.’

Liam made a face. ‘Don’t remind me.’ He felt his face heating. He had wanted it to be a romantic date, but Donna’s parents thought differently. While he and Donna ate at one table, Donna’s parents had booked another to watch over them. Even though Donna had told him she loved it, the quartet had only served to embarrass the hell out of him. ‘Two’s company. Four’s plain overcrowded.’

‘You are such a romantic. It’s great. I’ve always liked that in you.’

‘Look who’s the romantic around here. Are you proposing to me, Connor?’

‘No, but can you tell me about the white-haired girl working at the café?’

‘She’s off limits.’

Connor held his hands palms up. ‘Hey, everything above board. Not going to step on any toes. But she’s really cute.’

‘The whole café is off limits. No going there again.’ He was stupid enough to take his father there once and that raised enough angst; the last thing he needed was Connor stirring up more trouble. One Sinclair had caused enough emotional anxiety.

‘Okay, whatever you say.’

Liam was about to retaliate when Henry strode towards him. ‘Where’s that Ray fellow? The one that does your marketing. I want to talk to him before I go.’

Liam had seen Ray wandering around. He asked Jordie to find Ray.

‘He’ll be around tomorrow if you don’t catch him today. What do you want with him? I can answer any questions about marketing.’

‘Change of plans. Have to head back to Sydney. Emergency meeting with one of the franchisees that can’t wait.’

Liam carefully controlled his features. He’d become practised at hiding disappointment. Even though he didn’t show it, he still felt the sting. ‘I thought you’d be staying tonight. I’ve booked a restaurant for the three of us.’

‘Business doesn’t wait for anything.’

‘That means there’s room at the table?’ Connor asked.

‘Don’t get any ideas,’ Liam said.

‘Me? No.’ Connor said.

Liam pursed his lips. His brother always had a way around him. He never could say no or stay angry at Connor. But in this instance, he wanted to remain firm.

‘You wanted to see me, Mr. Sinclair?’

Henry rounded on Ray. ‘Yes. Glad you’re here.’ He took his shoulder and tucked him against his side, leading him away into a corner. Liam watched the hushed conversation, not liking the look of it. He wondered what on earth his father would want with Ray, and why Ray looked so damn uncomfortable. Eventually his father laughed and slapped Ray on the shoulder. Looking pleased with himself, Henry headed back to Liam.

‘Well, that’s me finished. I’m heading back. Good to see you, Liam.’

‘Good to see you too, Dad.’ More than likely it was going to be another nine months before he saw his father again. Resignation swamped the stabbing hole of disappointment. He should be used to his father flitting in and out, feeling like the hand-me-down son, but he had thought that maybe this time, Henry would stay a night.

Henry shook his hand, leaving him standing in the middle of the half-finished shop. Liam watched his father fold his tall frame into the backseat of the limo and close the door. He already had his mobile to his ear. He didn’t look back.

‘You’ve got me for a week,’ Connor said.

Smiling, Liam turned to his brother. ‘That long? I don’t know if I’ll be able to cope.’

‘Ha ha.’ Connor slung his arm around Liam’s shoulders, just as he always had and it seemed like old times. Just the two of them.

And that’s all he needed.

Wasn’t it?

* * *

‘Mum. I’ve got lunch.’

The sound of hammering greeted Clover as she walked through the front door. The hammering came from the kitchen and she wandered down the hallway, clutching the container with her mother’s lunch. The next thing she noticed was two tradesmen taking up space in her kitchen. Her mother was at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in her hands, watching them.

‘Hello, love. I didn’t expect you here.’ Her mother beamed at Clover.

Clover eyed the burly men. ‘Hi, Mum. Did you ring for some help?’ She felt slightly sick. She handled the finances, her mother long past having the ability to cope with that, and they weren’t going to stretch to include the help of two tradesmen for a day.

‘No. They just appeared and asked if they could fix the pipe in the kitchen. I thought you had organised it.’ Her mother’s smile faltered. Her eyes slipped uneasily to the tradesmen.

The last thing Clover wanted to do was frighten Gloria. She set the container on the table. ‘I’ve brought you some lunch from the café.’

‘So thoughtful. Joe? Ben? I’d like you to meet my daughter, Clover.’

Joe and Ben respectively turned from their jobs and said a polite hello. Clover recognised the logo on their front pockets immediately. A quick flash of anger twisted in her stomach and exploded in her mind. She stifled the urge to order the tradies from the kitchen, knowing that her tirade would cause undue concern for her mother. Who, in hell, did he think he was? Come into town, come for dinner, kiss her senseless and flash his money around at the first sight of poverty? She was no charity case. The bitter pressure-cooker of fury was about to blow, but she was going to take it out on the right person.

‘No need to worry, Mum. These guys are OK. Can you please let me know when you’re finished?’ She was amazed her voice sounded so controlled.

‘Sure thing,’ one of them smiled.

‘I’ve got to go, Mum. Enjoy the lunch.’ Clover kissed Gloria on her cheeks and stormed out of the house.

* * *

Work was going on loudly in Upper Crust. This was the first time Clover had been so close to the shop. It was taking shape fast. A myriad of tradesmen carried on with their tasks making sure that the inevitable would happen quickly. When she thought of the time she’d spent renovating the café herself, the hours, nights and weekends, she was more than a little jealous of the speed extra hands could generate.

She glanced at the men, and only saw one face she knew. He was working at the half-finished counter, absorbed in his task so much so that the noise around him didn’t seem to disturb him. She stepped through the door, hoping to make the least bit of interest, and headed inside.

She tapped Ray’s shoulder and stepped back out of his personal space. ‘Would Liam be here?’

Ray spun, surprise registering in his eyes. He shut down the screen of his computer a little awkwardly, his hand fumbling as he kept his eyes locked on her. ‘Err…no. I haven’t seen him for a while.’

She swallowed down the whip of irritation. She was going to find him, even if she had to walk all the way to his hotel. Years of self-control held her vice steady.

‘Oh. Is he still around town, do you think?’

‘I think he’s around somewhere. He should be back soon.’ Beads of perspiration collected on Ray’s upper lip. He was practically squirming with her here. Her subtle sixth sense raised its aerial.

‘Looks like it’s all coming along?’ Clover glanced at the shop. Even though the fit-out looked like it had exploded, she saw the trademark sleek white tiles were on the walls and floor, and focal points of shining silver metal on the outside of the counter.

Ray squinted around him like it was the first time he’d laid eyes on the activity. ‘Yes. We’re going to be ahead of time.’

Clover swallowed the bitter taste that rose in her mouth. How could Liam have calmly eaten dinner with her mother last night, all the while knowing how the fit out was coming along and how it was going to affect her — professionally as well as personally? There was more than her business at risk. ‘How…when do you expect to open?’

Ray shrugged. ‘Depends on the ovens and the testing. Three, maybe four weeks.’

‘Oh.’ Now there was a deadline to add to the stress.

Ray dabbed at his wet forehead.

‘Feeling OK, Ray?’ she asked.

‘You really shouldn’t be in here,’ Ray blurted. Clover eyed his computer. He hadn’t taken his hand from the top.

‘If you see Liam, let him know I want to have a chat with him?’

Clover made her way to the door, feeling Ray’s sticky gaze on her back. She recognised a couple of the tradies who had eaten religiously in her café and offered a nervous smile, which they returned. At least not all of Liam’s staff were insufferable snobs. Whatever Ray’s problem was, it was Liam’s concern. Not hers.

The café was in a lull time, but the laughter from the end table greeted her. The threesome at the end looked at her as the door closed. Her eyes went to a familiar striking pair of cinnamon, then slid to the sheepish ones of blue. ‘Glad you’re here. Just in time for coffee,’ Holly said. She went to stand, but Clover held out a hand and shook her head.

As Clover walked to the table she saw that they all had a half-drunk coffee in front of them.

‘Great coffee!’ Connor greeted her with a smile she couldn’t help returning. He had an easy way about him that was in stark contrast to his older brother. It would be nice to see Liam looking as carefree. It would suit him.

‘Thanks.’ She looked to Liam. Her heart gave a little tumble as she drank him in. She squared her shoulders. Even a glance had her responding to him, whether it be a little tweak in her gut to a full-blown hedonistic stomach-churning lurch. She cleared her throat, hoping it might clear her mind at the same time.

‘Could I talk to you, please?’ Her voice came out all husky, which was not how she wanted to sound.

‘Sure.’ He indicated the chair opposite.

‘In private?’

Liam brows arched, but he silently followed her into the kitchen. She felt his intense physical presence behind her. She spun and came nose to his chest. She took a quick step back, knocking a pot on the stove.

‘Look out!’ He grabbed her arms, steering her away from the stove.

The heat from his palm travelled all the way up her arms and pooled low in her stomach. She swallowed. Hard.

‘Uh. Thanks.’ She tipped her head back and was struck by the mix of emotion she read. There was tenderness, confusion, caring and…longing. So much longing.

‘You wanted to talk to me?’

She blinked. Yes, she did. But…he wanted her. So evident. No-one had ever looked at her like that. With such tenacity, so much ardour. But she was angry with him, because…

His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her lips went all tingly. She ran her tongue over her lower lip hoping to ease the sensation.

His mouth firmed. The fingers around hers imperceptivity hardened. Not a lot, but still she felt the strength in that hold, the idea that he would never let her go, and it felt…good. Right, that he should be like that to her. Not like a possession, but a person to be cherished.

‘Clover?’ His voice was a drug. The way he said her name, like it was silk, slid under her skin and switched her buttons to attention.

She swayed towards him helplessly, like a moth to a flame. Was she seeking warmth, or was she flirting with being burned? There was no answer. Right now it didn’t seem to matter. Both were good.

Answers…she needed them. A whisper of lucidity sharpened her mind. ‘My mother…’

His gaze hardened, eyes narrowing as he watched her. Guarded now. She wanted the heat back. Wanted them to look at her like they did a moment ago.

‘Yes?’

Like she was the most cherished woman he’d seen. There was a shaving nick on his chin. As though having a mind of its own, her hand snaked to his jaw. She touched the pad of her thumb to the cut, winding her fingers around his nape. Her thumb slid over his skin, moving upwards to his jaw. He moved his head so that his cheek filled her palm. He bent his head towards her, moving so slowly, as though asking a question.

‘Clover…’ His rough voice settled around her like a seductive blanket. Embracing her with primal need. Making her forget what she shouldn’t do. Mustn’t…

His arms moved around her back, his hand pressed into the small of her back, the other arm entwining around her shoulders, compelling her to move towards him so that they touched. The light was back in his eyes. The light that told her he wanted her. Badly. As she did him. And there was nothing that was going to stop the yearning, could extinguish the fire until he kissed her.

She sighed as he bent and claimed her mouth, and all pressing thoughts of her mother, the house, the tradesmen — everything — flew from her mind against the satisfaction of his kiss.