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“Look at him blushing. Reckon he’s got it bad,” one said in the front row.
“Pussy whipped,” his mate beside him muttered back.
Happily so, I thought, patting my pocket.
“Settle down, you lot,” Theo yelled, hands on hips.
And they did. Then again, Theo was huge and looked like he could squash any of them with his pinky finger.
“In answering your question, one day I will.”
That brought on a whispered chorus of oohs, and Theo yelled again for them to knock it off and for final questions.
None, thank goodness. I was off the hook. Done and dusted.
Outside, Theo clapped me on the shoulder, grinning like a proud dad. “Good job in there.”
I sighed. “Forgot two pages of my speech. Had my notes in the wrong order.”
“Didn’t matter. It was great. I mean it. One day I’ll convince Blake to do a talk.”
I snorted. “Fat chance of that.”
“Maybe I’ll get you here for a week. Show the boys how it’s done.”
“Maybe I will,” I said, surprised that I meant it.
“Better go back in, and Jet, good luck with Ari … and it.”
My hand flew to my front jeans pocket again. It’s still there, you idiot.
Theo just grinned. “Let me know when she says yes. And I expect a wedding invitation.”
He winked and strode off before I could correct him.
My phone buzzed with a message from the very woman we’d just spoken about.
Ari: I’ll be home late. Got to dash to town before the shops close. Hope your talk went well
Me: I survived. Theo said it was good
Public speaking had left me covered in cold sweat. I patted my pocket again. “I’m not nervous,” I muttered, jumping into my ute and slamming the door. “It will be absolutely fine.”
Two hours later, I swung around the corner of my road to find a real estate agent hammering a ‘for sale’ sign at the front gate of my neighbour’s place. I slowed the ute, lowering the window, and gave the man a wave.
“Going on the market tomorrow,” the agent called out. “If you’re interested, you’d better get in quick. I’ve had off-the-market enquiries already.”
The old MacDonald place had been empty for over a year. The property was slightly larger than mine at sixty acres to my fifty, had two dams that never went dry and had more creek frontage. Previous owners used to run cattle on it, and maybe I could diversify and do that or expand my flock.
The cottage on it was a bonus, and there was an old shed and an old blacksmith’s lean-to with an old forge.
“I expect it will go quick,” the real estate agent hedged, whacking the for sale sign one more time with his mallet.
I nodded, sucking on my lips, trying not to appear too keen. “That’s fair. How much do you reckon it’s worth?”
The agent flashed a calculated grin with an actual gold tooth. He said a dollar range, and I inwardly cringed.
The agent sized me up, and the state of my ute, and narrowed his eyes. “You reckon you’re in the market, do you?”
