Secrets (Hope Bay) Read online

  She waited, conscious of the low murmur of café patrons in the distance, grateful for the semi-privacy cast by the big pot plant.

  Shane took a deep breath. “I’ll be blunt, because I’m certain if I try to mince words you’re going to think I’m hiding something. Can I be totally honest without you getting offended?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” He nodded again. “I think you’re fine just the way you are. I never meant to make you feel self-conscious about your body. I was wrong to react the way I did when you said you could do to skip a few meals. What you choose to do concerns me, but it isn’t really my business unless it affects your health.”

  Emma arched an eyebrow at that.

  “All right.” He sighed. “It isn’t my business unless you come to me as your doctor.”

  “Which you aren’t,” she pointed out.

  “But a concerned friend would say something.”

  “You aren’t my friend.”

  “I want to be your friend. I actually thought we were becoming friendly.”

  Disconcerted by the direction of the conversation, Emma gave a ‘come on’ gesture. “Let’s get back to your explanation.”

  After a few long seconds of watching her, Shane picked up his drink, took another swallow and set the glass back on the table. “Right. The explanation.” He leaned back in his chair, linking his hands loosely against his stomach as his elbows rested on the armrests. “I worked in a GP practice a couple of years ago and one of my patients was anorexic. It was hard for her, I could see that. I saw the photos of her when she was larger. Or she thought she was larger. Privately, I thought the photos of her were nice - a woman with womanly curves, a bright smile, happiness, but beneath it all was a woman who didn’t see herself for who she was, a woman unhappy with her body. A woman who became caught up in selfies, social media, gossip rags. Fad diets. Celebrities, the contradictions fed to men and women by magazines. Her realistic goals became an obsession, and I had to watch as a healthy woman spiralled down a pathway I couldn’t stop. She skipped meals more and more, grew thinner, unhealthy, sick. Her job suffered, her life suffered, she suffered.” Shane’s expression was sober, a little grim. “She ended up a walking skeleton, sick, and still she couldn’t see what was happening to her. Her family suffered, blamed themselves. No one could get through to her that she had so much to live for, so much to focus on.” A muscle in Shane’s jaw bunched then released. “I felt so damned helpless. Her family begged me to help her gain weight, she begged me to help her lose more. She was literally fading before my eyes.” He went quiet, his eyes gazing into the distance as he remembered.

  His words rang true. Emma had seen it herself, young girls caught in a vicious spiral of dieting and self loathing, comparing themselves to the rich and famous, the photos on social media, the models on the catwalk, the pressures of a contradictory world, eventually believing that their world could be as wonderful if they could only be as thin as their idols. And while they strove for this, their families worried, relationships fell apart, health deteriorated.

  “What happened to her?” Emma asked.

  “She died.” Shane sighed. “She attended several specialised clinics but the pressure once she was out…well, she eventually went into multiple organ failure, was hospitalised, and died.” He focused on Emma. “It’s not just a disease affecting women, I’ve met several young men with the same thing.”

  Emma nodded her understanding.

  “When you said you could do to skip some meals, I thought… feared…hell, Em.” He sighed. “I had a flashback and all I could see was you, healthy and happy, falling into that bloody trap, and I spoke before I thought it through. I never meant to make you feel bad.”

  Crap, now she did feel bad, but for a totally different reason. He’d been concerned about her. True, it wasn’t technically his business what she did with her body, but as a nurse, she could understand why he reacted the way he had. “Shane, I had no idea.”

  He gave a small smile, a slight shrug. “You couldn’t know.”

  “I’m sorry. I jumped the gun.”

  “Nah, you had every right. I’m the one who jumped the gun.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “You said something as a joke and I let my bad experience side-swipe me. No wonder you went all frosty when I mentioned saving you a big slice of cake.”

  “Yeah, well…” Emma gave him a lopsided grin in return.

  “I meant it as a gesture of goodwill. Saving you a big slice. Just because, you know, Mum makes the most delicious cakes.”

  “The offer was nice. So was the thought behind it. I just got the wrong thought.”

  “Apparently we both got the wrong thought. Thought the wrong thought.” Shane frowned. “Got it all wrong?”

  “I don’t think grammar matters when it comes to apologies.” Emma held out her hand. “I apologise for getting upset and thinking the wrong thing.”

  Shane looked at her hand, then grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling engagingly as he took hold of her hand. “I apologise for upsetting and thinking the wrong thing.”

  They shook.

  But he didn’t let go after. The warmth of his palm was comforting, his long fingers and bigger hand clasping her hand gently but firmly.

  A little fissure of something tickled along her veins, her breath catching in her throat as she slowly shifted her gaze from their joined hands to his face.

  To his eyes that were watching her so warmly.

  Everything so warm. His touch, his eyes, his smile. His warmth that was seeping into her to touch little things deep inside her.

  “Um…” Clearing her throat, she gave her hand a little tug.

  He didn’t let go.

  “Shane…”

  “Emma.”

  She indicated their still-clasped hands.

  “One more thing.”

  “Yes?” She could feel the heat in her cheeks.

  “I do want us to be friends.”

  “Okay.”

  “No. I mean it. I want to be your friend. Not just your boss, but your friend.”

  That was a little unexpected. “Is it wise to be friends with your boss?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “I’d say it brings benefits but I’m afraid you might read that the wrong way.”

  Her cheeks went hotter. “Um...what benefits are you referring to?”

  “Apparently we hang out with the same mob of people.”

  “We do?”

  “Katie, Daz, Danny, Steve and Mitch. It means we’ll hang around together at different times too, seeing as I’m their friend as well. In fact,” he added happily, “it means we have no choice but to become friends.”

  “It does?”

  “Yeah. Hope Bay is a small place. Everyone knows everyone. I’ll be embarrassed if you avoid friend get-togethers with the mob just because I might be present.” He paused. “Like last night.”

  “Ah.” Embarrassed at being caught out, she sighed. “I was angry with you. Because, you know…”

  “I know. And in future if I do something to make you angry, tell me.” Humour fled to be replaced with sincerity. “Em, I’m your boss, but I’m not unapproachable. We won’t agree on some things, but I’ll treat you exactly like Doc does, that isn’t going to change. Your position is safe. You’re a nurse, I’m a doctor, you work in Hope Bay Clinic. That’s it. But outside we can be friends. Just friends hanging out with other friends.”

  They did share friends, it was true. It wasn’t like she could avoid Shane, was it? If she withdrew from her social circle he’d notice, and that in turn would create all sorts of difficulties. Besides, if she were truthful, she had begun to like him until the eating issue had reared up.

  Besides, if things got a little awkward she could always take a step back now and again. It wouldn’t be hard to keep a line between them, to know when she shouldn’t step further across it. She could be friends, be friendly, be in the same crowd as him, and still keep a line separ
ating personal and work relationships without him knowing.

  Yeah, she could do that. Besides, she was living here, working here, Hope Bay was her new beginning and she loved it here, had friends, a life.

  Yeah, she could do it.

  Slowly, she smiled. “Okay.”

  His smile was bigger. “Okay.”

  Giving her hand a hearty shake, he released her, grabbed his cold coffee and raised his glass. “To friendship.”

  She raised her Diet Coke. “To friendship.”

  She’d half expected a little awkwardness following this, but Shane steered the conversation to other things.

  “So, CK.”

  “My CK?”

  “Yeah. What does CK stand for? Or is it just, you know, CK?”

  “It actually stands for Cute Kitty.”

  Shane paused.

  “She is cute.”

  “Oh, sure,” he agreed quickly.

  Emma narrowed her eyes. “Befriend me, you befriend my CK.”

  “Ah. You come as a package deal?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll come around and express my admiration for CK the first opportunity I get.”

  Emma rocked the fork up and down at him. “CK has high expectations.”

  “I’ll bring cat nip.”

  “Do you even know what it is?”

  “Sure. It makes cats high.”

  She tsked. “And you a doctor.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re happy to make someone high just to impress them?”

  “I see what you mean.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Steak?”

  “She’s partial to chicken.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Roast chicken.”

  “Mum can do that.”

  “She likes friends who can cook.”

  “How does a cat know who cooks?”

  “She has ways of knowing. Secret ways.” Emma tapped the side of her nose.

  “Sniffs it out?”

  “No. It’s like kitty hoo-doo magic stuff.”

  Shane blinked. “Pardon?”

  “You don’t question her ways, you just accept them.”

  “Right.” He took a bite of quiche, chewed, swallowed, then, “Are you serious?”

  “About the chicken?” Emma leaned forward. “We never joke about chicken in our house.”

  “I seriously have to cook it?”

  She smiled.

  “Really?”

  Still smiling, she bit into a slice of gherkin.

  “Damn.” He shook his head.

  “Love me, love my cat,” she said blithely.

  He gave her a funny look.

  “Package deal,” she reminded him.

  Shane sighed. “All right. I’ll cook a crummy chicken.”

  “Roast.” Highly amused, she corrected him. “Roast chicken.”

  “Fine. I’ll roast a crummy chicken.”

  “No crumbs. CK doesn’t like crumbs.”

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “You have no idea.” She laughed.

  “I had no idea you were such a tease.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I let you almost talk me into the chicken.”

  “Oh, Shane,” Emma said seriously even while laughter bubbled inside her. “I’m serious. CK likes chicken. You want to win her heart? Her friendship? Be a part of our package deal?”

  “Yes? No!” Shane actually looked stricken. “I mean, yes, I want to be part of your package deal, but no, are you really serious? I have to roast a chook for the cat?”

  Holding up her hand, Emma linked her forefinger over her middle finger. “Me and CK.”

  With a heavy sigh, he hung his head. “Okay. Okay, you win. I’ll roast a friggin’ chook for the cat.”

  Laughing, she continued eating.

  He scowled at her. “You don’t breath a word of this to any of the others.”

  “They’d love to-”

  “Not one word.” He stabbed a finger in her direction. “I even hear a whisper that you told them and I will hunt you down.”

  Daz rounded the pot plant. “Hunt who down?”

  Emma didn’t get a chance to open her mouth before Shane gave her a warning glower and retorted, “Nothing.”

  Daz looked from her laughing face to Shane’s warning expression. “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t ‘uh-huh’ anything,” Shane said. “And we’re not finished, so bugger off.” To Emma, he explained, “I can’t stand waiters hovering around, ready to swoop down and rip the plate from under your nose before you’re even finished.”

  “I just thought you’d like to know that you both were due back to work five minutes ago,” Daz drawled, and strolled away.

  Emma checked her watch, Shane doing the same, and they both bolted to their feet.

  “Crap!” Emma grabbed her bag. “Where did the time go?”

  “Recriminations.” Shane grabbed her elbow. “Let’s go before Harriet comes looking for us and drags us back by our scruffs.”

  As they hurried from the café, Daz called out, “I’ll send your doggie bags to the clinic for your arvo tea!”

  “Stick it on my tab!” Shane called back as they bolted through the door to the footpath outside.

  Emma came to a sudden stop, Shane ploughing into the back of her.

  He almost knocked her over, but his arm appearing around her waist to haul her back against him stopped her momentum forward.

  For several seconds she was braced against him, her every curve mashed up against his harder, more muscular frame, and she felt the breadth and height of him against her like a brand.

  For one wild second she wondered what it would feel like to have his hot, naked body pressed against her back, only to immediately shove the tantalising thought way down deep in the gutter of her mind where it belonged. He’s my boss! And friend!

  The arm around her waist disappeared as Shane stepped back, the cool air invading the space between their bodies washing the warmth of him away while bringing clarity to her mind.

  “What’s wrong?” Shane asked as she turned around to face him.

  “I have to sweeten the deal for us being late,” Emma explained almost breathlessly. Pushing past him, she shoved the door open to call out, “Daz!”

  Two plastic containers in hand, he looked up. “Yeah, love?”

  “Two extra slices of quiche!”

  “Buttering up time?”

  “Big time.”

  “I’ll send it over as well. Now scoot.”

  As soon as she shut the door, Shane bustled her across to her car in which they’d come. “Let’s go!”

  As bustling went, she couldn’t help but like the sensation, especially because Shane was partially behind her, his body nudging hers along, his hand hooked around her arm.

  He practically threw her into the driver’s seat before taking a run and hitting the bonnet lightly, sliding across it with an expertise that had her gaping. Dropping onto the other side of the car, he yanked open the door, dropped into the passenger seat and said, “Floor it, sister! Before Doc knows we’re late and grounds us!”

  ~*~

  Saturday was nice and sunny, the sea breeze filling the air to ruffle Shane’s hair as he turned into Danny’s driveway and rode up to the veranda, hopping off the push bike to rest it against the rail. Easing the backpack straps off his shoulders, he climbed the two steps onto the veranda and knocked on the door. “Oy! Numb nuts!”

  There came a muffled shout from the depths of the house, followed by a shriek.

  Oh shit, he’d recognise that shriek anywhere, but it was too late to back-pedal now. Not when the door swung open to show Mitch clad in holey old cargo shorts and tank top with a very curvy figure slung over one broad shoulder.

  Yep, Shane would know those wildly waving legs anywhere.

  “Hey,” Mitch drawled.

  “You’ve got something over your shoulder,” Shane pointe
d out.

  “Yeah.”

  “Put me down, dickhead!” Katie yelled.

  “It talks,” Shane added.

  “It’s noisy,” Mitch agreed.

  “Should I ask…?”

  “Up to you.” Mitch gave the door a shove to keep it open, swung around on his heel and strolled back into the house.

  Hands braced on his hips, Katie managed to shove upright enough to call out breathlessly, “Hey, Shane.”

  “Katie.” Following them inside, he snicked the lock on the security screen.

  It said a lot that now he’d got over his initial surprise and disconcertment, he took this in stride. In fact, it was perfectly normal behaviour as far as he was concerned. The mob he’d grown up with - apart from Daz, who hadn’t grown up in Hope Bay - rarely surprised him anymore. Especially Mitch and Katie.

  Strolling along behind them through the hallway, he watched Katie struggling and cursing before finally giving up and, well, basically just hanging resignedly over Mitch’s shoulder, her arms swinging to and fro with his steps, her dark hair sweeping backwards and forwards.

  Entering the kitchen, he saw Danny sitting with his bare feet crossed and up on the table, toes of one foot curling and uncurling, the heel resting on the table rocking side to side as he read the book he held, head nodding in time to the music coming from the radio. He didn’t look up as his three friends entered.

  Plugging the kettle in, Mitch switched it on.

  “Mitch…” Katie sighed.

  “Not yet.”

  “Argh!” She subsided, muttering, “Bloody great arse.”

  He affectionately slapped hers lightly, only to yelp and jump when she pinched his in turn.

  “Serve you right,” she said, still hanging limply upside down.

  “Should I ask?” Shane asked again.

  “If you want,” Mitch replied.

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “You going to ask?”

  “I am asking, drongo.”

  “No, you’re asking if you should ask, you’re not actually asking.” Pointing a finger at Shane, Mitch winked and clicked his tongue. “Two different things.”

  “I told you,” Katie said. “Great arse.”

  “A lot of girls think I have a great arse.”