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“Yeah. They’ve been together a few years now. Hana moved in with me and Caro in our last year at university. Hana—the Korean one—is also an English major. Caro’s an Early Education teacher.”
“You’ve never fancied teaching?”
She shakes her head and pulls a face. “God, no. Not my scene at all. I’ve always wanted to be a writer.”
“How’s your dad?” I ask.
“Not too bad. Very tired. It’ll be good to get him started on the treatment. We’re going to have a very quiet Christmas, no guests or anything. My older sister, Kate, lives in Australia, but she’s home for Christmas with her husband and daughter. It’s nice to have a bit of support.” She clears her throat. “Where are we going?”
“Il Pescatore. Do you know it?”
“Jeez, yes! Seriously? How did you get a table there?” She rolls her eyes. “It’s all right, don’t answer that.”
“You haven’t been?”
“Mack, of course I haven’t. The starters cost more than I make in a fortnight. And now I’m nervous. I thought we were going for a veggie burger or something.”
I grin. “Do you like cocktails?”
“I do.”
“They serve some great ones.”
“Sounds like a perfect evening,” she says.
Her gaze meets mine, and a tingle runs down my spine. She’s taken care over her makeup, and her eyes are dark and sultry, while her lips shine with gloss. If I were to kiss her, I know they’d be slightly sticky.
Jesus. I’m going to spend the whole evening with a fucking hard-on.
“How was your day?” she asks.
“Good. We had the office party.”
“Oh, nice. Did you get to go?” she asks Jamie.
“I did. Everyone had a good time, I think.”
“It was Nadine’s last day,” I say. “She’s off for a cruise around the Pacific islands.”
“How lovely.”
“Yeah, she’s really looking forward to it. She said the main reason she’s going is so she doesn’t have to cook Christmas dinner.”
She laughs. “I get that. What about you two, what are you doing for Christmas?”
“We’re going to our grandparents’ for Christmas lunch,” I reply. “Kuia—our grandmother—refuses to let us spend the day on our own.”
She gives me a puzzled look. “Ourgrandmother?”
“Sorry, I thought I’d told you. Jamie’s my brother. Half-brother, technically.”
She stares at him. “Oh! I didn’t realize. Older or younger?”
“I’m younger,” Jamie says. “And better looking. But he’s smarter.”
She laughs, but I can tell she’s curious about why he’s acting as my chauffeur.
I’m holding her hand, and she looks down at my tattoo, revealed beneath my turned-up sleeve. She reaches out and traces the pattern that I told her represented my journey to New Zealand.
