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“And here I was thinking you were coming to apologise for your behaviour earlier at the shearers’ quarters. Because all that is entirely on you.”
Rosie straightened and blinked rapidly. “You’re right.”
I raised both eyebrows.
“I … shouldn’t have said … or done …”
She whipped around and stormed back towards the fence, jumping it with ease, jump in her ute and drive off until I could no longer see her.
I didn’t hate her. No. I hated just how much I liked sparring with her. Hated how much I liked that earlier kiss.
Four years on, she still has this effect on me.
If we were ever going to act like civil neighbours running our family businesses, we had to get past this attraction and fast.
* * *
Rosie
I grabbed my water bottle and drank. My headache was still a dull roar.
Not my best day today. It was now official: Rosalba Turner was an out-of-control hot mess.
Maria walked in whistling, and I leapt up from my chair and hugged her tightly. “Welcome home to the basket case of issues and family drama.”
Maria chuckled against my shoulder. “Just another Saturday with the Zanettis, then.”
I released her and Anthea handed Maria a cup of coffee.
“Heard about the fire. Anthea showed me the grapes out back but I hear we’ve lost acres of tempranillo. Mum and Dad look, well, I guess you know.”
“Dad looks so deflated. Mum is a wreck.”
“Before I forget.” Anthea closed the office door for privacy. “I checked in with our new chef after you left. He admitted he cancelled the lamb order, thinking it was saving us money by reducing menu options.”
I groaned, slumping back into my office chair. “I just accused Tom of cancelling his lamb order to spite us.”
“I did think it was weird when Anthea said we weren’t buying Turner meat. That lamb is great quality.”
“I know.” I may hate Tom, but I can’t argue with the quality of the lamb they produce. “I’ll see Dad about it.”
“And how are you doing post-Richard?”
“I took sick leave this week to avoid showing my face at the university. One of my colleagues keeps calling but I just can’t speak to her yet. Heard our department has an Acting Dean. Shit has hit the proverbial fan I imagine.”
Maria and Anthea exchanged a look. “What does that look mean?”
“I meant how areyoudoing? Not how the university was handling their incompetent leaders.”
I let out a shrill laugh. “I’m hungover, I threw my pruning shears at Tom’s face and I’ve humiliated myself in front of my family, friends and neighbours. I’m doing just great.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself, sis.”
“I’m not—”
“Anthea and I want to help.” Maria levelled me with a fond but stern look. “And you’re going to give us tasks.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “You’ve just come off a ten day roster at the mine. You need to rest.”
