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“What’s it got to do with you?” he sneers. “What are you, her boyfriend?”
“Yes,” I say, going with the momentum and hoping she won’t mind as I slip a protective arm around her shoulders. “And you’ve just ruined my girlfriend’s dress. Now, the thing is, I know how much it cost, because I paid for it. It was a special birthday gift. So, if anyone’s going to be paying anything, it’s you. Do you have a couple of thousand dollars on you?”
His expression falters a sneer that doesn’t quite have enough gas to stay in place anymore. “What? It’s not my fault. She wasn’t looking!”
“Thing is, I was,” I tell him, gesturing over in the direction where I came from. “I watched you walk right into her because you were so busy looking at your phone. Now, come on. We haven’t got all day. Are you going to do a wire transfer, or have you got the cash?”
He stutters, turning a deep purple color. “I’m not paying you anything!” he says.
“Then,” I say, leaning in close to his face. “I suggest you get out of my face before I decide to make you pay.”
His mouth moves a couple of times like he wants to say something else. But I guess he can’t think of anything, because a moment later, he directs one last glare at the girl and then stalks away, angrily striding out of the station.
“Are you alright?” I ask, taking my arm from around her shoulders and turning to look at her. I don’t want to lose that contact between us – I could feel the heat of her skin against my bare arm, and I wanted more. But I don’t want to come on too strong and scare her off, especially not after coming up against that asshole.
“I, um,” she says, swallowing hard. Looking at her now, I can’t help but think she looks a little familiar. Is it just because I’m staring at the woman of my dreams? I don’t know what it is about her that rings a distant bell in my head.
But that thought can wait – because she obviously isn’t alright.
“Are you staying somewhere near here?” I ask. “Your hotel?”
She looks up at me blankly, then down at herself, as if she’s taking in the coffee stain again. We’re not getting anywhere. I remember passing by a nice little café a couple of streets away, back out of the main tourist area by a short walk. She needs to sit down, get something sweet in her, and maybe some water. I take a chance and reach out to touch her forehead, lo and behold, she’s burning up.
That could easily explain the confusion before, and the fact that she’s deep in shock now. She’s dehydrated.
“Come with me,” I say, using the same authoritative tone that I use at work. It seems to get through to her because when I turn to lead her away, she comes with me.
Time to get some fluids in my mystery girl, and with any luck, I might actually get to learn her name – and maybe even her number.
Chapter Four
Candace
I feel like my brain is broken.
I must be hallucinating, or maybe I’ve just totally lost my mind and this is all happening in a dream. There must be some explanation other than reality.
There I was, dealing with this awful guy who spilled his drink all over me, a shock of ice to my overheated body. I couldn’t work out whether it was welcome, or a nightmare. And then this man strides over to rescue me, like something out of a movie.
This extremely handsome man in a black suit, jacket slung over one of his arms and an expensive-looking black briefcase in one hand, a black tie loosened around his neck. He has a shock of dark hair with a small touch of grey above a chiseled face, so much taller than me and well-built. I would probably think he looks like Batman if it wasn’t for the fact that I know exactly who he is.
Sean Fogarty.
And that’s where it all starts to fall apart. Because I know there’s no logical reason at all for me to run into Sean Fogarty, of all people, in Melbourne. And there’s definitely no reason for Sean Fogarty to look at me first like a stranger, and then put his arm around me and claim that I’m his girlfriend.
So, I’ve lost my mind. But I might as well go with it. I don’t know if I have any other choice. It feels like my brain isn’t working at all, and at least this man did just save me from being threatened by a stranger. Whoever he is.
I follow him when he commands me too, feeling exhausted by it all. I just want to sit down and rest, but I don’t complain. For some reason, I feel as though I can trust him. Maybe it’s because my brain keeps telling me, against all the odds, that this is Sean. My Dad’s best friend.
