I inhale and open my mouth to object, but he continues, “I’m in the middle of something, and you’re being very rude.”
I glance at the woman sitting next to him then. I recognize her… oh! “Wren? Wren Carter?”
“Hey, Aurelia!” Wren rises, and we have a big hug. She’s an old friend of Caesar’s, and I saw her a lot back when they were both at university together, especially the hot summer when we spent nearly every day on the beach. I thought she’d moved to Australia. What’s she doing here?
“How are you?” I pull out a chair, but Marcus clears his throat. I glance at him and he gives me a look that saysDon’t you dare sit down. “Ohhh… sorry. Did I interrupt a tryst?”
“Yes,” Marcus says, glowering.
But Wren giggles. “No, not at all. I’m waiting for Caesar.”
“And here he is,” my oldest brother announces, appearing beside me.
“Where have you been?” I snap. “The mayor wants a photo with you.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “I… uh… had a meeting.”
I blow out a breath. “I’m off to sort out the press packets. Promise me you’ll come and see the mayor when you’re done here?”
“Will do.”
I wave goodbye to Wren and walk away, leaving them to it.
At the edge of the bar, I come to a stop, and Luke pauses beside me. I turn to face him. His gaze skims the crowd around us, then comes back to me. He straightens, linking his hands behind his back.
I make a guess. “You have a military background?”
“Yes. Ex-New Zealand Defence Force, ma’am.”
“Army?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where did you serve?”
“Alongside Allied Forces in Afghanistan.”
“How long have you been out of the army?”
He pauses, then says, “Four months, ma’am.”
It’s not long. I wonder why he left? I’d like to ask, but I don’t want to be rude. Although I’ve snapped at him, I’m annoyed at Marcus, not at him per se.
“So you’re used to taking orders, right?” I say instead.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So if I order you to leave me alone?”
“I’m afraid I only take orders from my commanding officer.”
“Marcus.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“He’s hardly your commanding officer,” I scoff. Then I realize something—when he first approached me, he told meI don’t answer to you, I answer to Marcus. He made that very clear to me. “You called him Marcus,” I say slowly. “Not Mr. Ashford.” He doesn’t reply, and I continue, “Do you know him? I mean, personally?”
He hesitates again, then says, “We went to high school together.”
