CHAPTER 4 #2
He just shakes his head at me but he’s grinning, so I take that as a win.
We’re just about to give up and head somewhere else when the tour guide spots us, and I suddenly see another way around our dilemma.
Because that right there is recognition in his eyes, and I am certainly not above using fame in my favour if needed.
And I have a need for it right now if it means I can get Harrison Thornfield inside this building.
“Casey Calloway,” the tour guide says, smiling up at me broadly. I am a hundred percent used to people back home recognising me, but I have a level of anonymity in this city that I have so far been enjoying. But not if it is going to get me something I want.
“In the flesh,” I beam back, smiling as Harrison rolls his eyes beside me.
“You looking to join a tour?” he asks conspiratorially, glancing over his shoulder to ensure he’s not overheard.
“We were hoping to do a tour. Didn’t realise we had to book a year in advance,” I sigh.
“Tell you what. You sign my hat for my kid and you can jump in with us now. Just don’t tell the boss,” he says.
“I’ll sign whatever you want,” I assure him, taking a black marker and his hat from his outstretched hands. I sign my name with a flourish and then Harrison and I squeeze in with the tour group and get our own personalised tour of the Opera House.
“Well, look at you,” Harrison says as we step into the foyer. “Looks like you have more success batting your lashes at the men than the ladies.”
“I do like to keep an open mind,” I wink back at him.
I expect more teasing, but he just clears his throat and walks away from me so I drop it.
Honestly, I know there’s a lot of homophobia in sports circles but I have never had any issue with who people love.
I had a huge following with the rainbow supporters back home in Melbourne and I loved taking photos with that crew because there was not an ounce of judgement amongst the lot of them.
Besides, I’ll flirt with anyone if it means I get to see the way Harrison is looking up at the vast expanse of the concert hall like he’s doing right now.
We make our way through all the theatres and halls and studios and then the tour guide whisks Harrison and me backstage after the rest of the group head outside.
We see the dressing rooms and the rehearsal spaces and then he sneaks us onto the stage where I of course simply must misquote Shakespeare and Harrison laughs at me.
Afterwards, we take a ferry over to Watsons Bay and walk along the clifftops before stopping for lunch on the wharf.
We eventually return to Circular Quay which is where we stumble across the promised souvenir shop, complete with rows of requisite stuffed Australian animals that are all made in China, and we try to find the kitschiest gift for each other in the store.
“Ah ha!” Harrison yells triumphantly as he discovers a display case full of clip-on koalas.
He buys a whole set and then ceremoniously clips them all over my top before he stands back to laugh at me.
Me with my t-shirt full of colourful clinging koalas flying little Australian flags.
I get my own back when I find a fake Akubra hat threaded with plastic shark teeth and a set of dangling corks.
“I look like Crocodile Dundee,” Harrison grumbles when I push it on his head. Pity about all those delicious curls being squished but needs must.
“Welcome to Straya, mate,” I grin, snapping a selfie of the pair of us in our hat and clip-on koalas.
I even manage to find a couple of green and yellow bumbags decorated with boxing kangaroos.
Harrison lets me clip his around his waist, pretending to sigh the whole time.
We look patently ridiculous, but I love that Harrison will play along with me as we snap more selfies that I guarantee will be going up on my Instagram.
There is still time left in the day so I drag Harrison over to The Rocks, attracting a fair bit of attention in our cute getups on the way.
“This is one of the oldest neighbourhoods in Australia. Goes right back to the First Fleet,” I tell him as we wander through the old heritage buildings.
“Mate, I come from England,” Harrison laughs. “This is not old. There’s a Saxon church near my village that was built in the eleven-hundreds.”
“Hmm. You make a fair point,” I mull. “How about we just go get a drink instead.”
“That sounds like a plan I can get on board with,” Harrison grins at me from behind the swinging corks on his hat.
How a guy can look so adorable while wearing a fake Akubra hat and swatting away swinging corks is beyond me.
“Just don’t forget we have an early start tomorrow so just a couple of drinks. ”
“Gotcha,” I agree. “We’ll keep it in on the DL.”
“Let’s go then.”
“Fair warning. I cannot guarantee that you will not be hit on a multitude of times dressed like that,” I say, sweeping my hand down his body.
“Is it the shoes? Are they too much?” Harrison mulls.
“It’s definitely the shoes,” I laugh, clipping one of my spare koalas onto his top and slipping my arm through his as we set off in search of a decent watering hole.