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My bangs were a recent change. I’d never had them before, and somehow, just after Christmas, I’d let my hairdresser talk me into bangs for something different. The bangs swept from left to right and most of the time the hair above my eyes just annoyed me.
After nearly an hour in Starkles, I’d selected three wigs. The first wig was the color of liquid copper. It was a wavy style that framed my face and sat just over shoulder-length. The second was a blonde bob, similar in shape to the black one I owned. The third was another blonde one with long hair that nearly reached my bra strap.
They cost a fortune, but if my year was to play out as planned, then I needed them. Before I left with my purchases, Tania made me promise to re-visit.
I was on a roll; however, time was getting away from me, and with my new purchases swinging in my hands, I headed to Woolworths to do what I came here to do. Boring grocery shopping.
Normally, grocery shopping was incredibly mundane. But after all my recent trysts, I found myself looking at people with more interest, men in particular.
If I’d learned anything during the last nine weeks, it was that men were as insecure as women when it came to sex. Another surprise was that out of the nine men I’d met in the last nine weeks, it was the ones I’d least expected that had turned out to be the most interesting.
Armed with my shopping cart, I strolled up and down the aisles, selecting my usual grocery items. It was a perfect cover. As I selected one item or another, I pretended to scrutinize the product of interest, yet I could discreetly perv on any man standing nearby.
The Gold Coast offered a smorgasbord of men, and the men in the grocery store didn’t disappoint.
It was strange; suddenly I was looking at the world with my eyes wide open. I’d heard there was a code single men used to announce their status while shopping, but I couldn’t remember if it was a bunch of bananas facing up meant they were single or bananas facing down. I had no idea. It was fun guessing, though.
Gold Coast men came from all walks of life. Young. Old. Extremely fit, and unfit. Shabby and chic. Attractive and not so much.
By the end of grocery shopping, I’d purchased much more than I usually would, and my cart was just about overflowing. With the amount I’d bought, it would be impossible to catch the tram home.
I loaded my things into the trunk of a taxi, and we arrived at the Hot Horizon Hotel within ten minutes. The driver helped me dump all the bags onto the roadside, then I paid him, and he drove off.
Now for the juggling act.
I gathered one bag after another onto my arms, and I was nearly there and ready to lift when a man sidled up next to me. I noticed the cowboy boots first, and when I smelled leather and spice, I braced to look up at him.
“Would you like a hand, ma’am?” I just about crumbled to the pavement at the sexy voice. Holy smokes. . . Billy, my urban cowboy.
It took all my concentration to both speak and try to disguise my voice. “No, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not fine. Here, let me help you with those.”
Billy’s arm brushed against mine, and his casual touch shivered through me. He eased a couple of bags off each of my wrists and gathered the remainder off the ground. “So where are we going?”
The hot flush coursed through my body, and I was either going to melt into a puddle or pass out. I needed to get this over with quickly. “Just into the lobby. Thanks.”
Rushing like a crazy woman, I headed toward the steps with the bags on my arms weighing me down.
“Are you here on holiday?” His voice was one of the sexiest I’d ever heard.
Phew! He didn’t recognize me. But how was I to answer? Maybe I could pretend I was a tourist, just flown in for a holiday or something. Yes, that would work.
“Hey, Jane.” My head nearly exploded as I glared at Marjorie, the hotel afternoon manager waving at me from behind the reception counter.
“Are you on holiday here?” Billy must have assumed I hadn’t heard him.
“No, I ummm . . . I live here.”
He cocked his head, and I fell into his molten molasses eyes. “Really? Do you work here?”
My shoulders sagged under the weight of the groceries and my brazen deception. “Yes. I’m Jane Nichols, the night manager.” I scoured the marble expanse for a luggage trolley, but of course, there were none around.
Deciding I had no choice, I led Billy to the lift, pressed the button, and we stepped into the elevator together. My stomach churned as we rode past the mezzanine floor and up another three floors.
We were nearly there when he cleared his throat. “Maybe you can help me with something.”
His eager expression convinced me I knew exactly what he was about to say. My stomach twisted, on the verge of throwing up.
