Chapter 4
Eva
“Did you know Coop has a cleaner who does this for him?” Seb asked as he scrubbed another plate from dinner.
“I have one too,” Mum replied with a wink.
“Me too,” I giggled, loving that neither of them had noticed it was already fifteen minutes past my bedtime and for once I was able to join in on this nightly ritual.
“You know what I mean,” my brother grumbled. “I wish we had as much money as they do.”
“Is Cooper rich?” I asked, the naivety of an eight-year-old who was only just learning the value of money evident in my question.
Sebastian spun around, the soap suds dripping from his gloves. “Yes, Evangeline. Like loaded.” His eyes were wide with excitement. “He has a cleaner, his own bathroom, a gardener and a fricken chef.”
“Language!” Mum admonished, and I stifled another giggle.
“Why does he love having dinner here so much then?” I asked with disbelief. He was over all the time and stayed for dinner as often as Mum offered.
“Ouch,” Mum replied. “My cooking isn’t that bad, is it?”
Sebastian shot me his older brother's glare. “Your cooking is the best, Mum. I’m just jealous he has someone to do the bloody dishes afterwards.”
“Language!” Mum reprimanded again and I bit back another smile.
“You know, a cook and a cleaner would be nice, but I bet Cooper wishes he had some of the things you two have.” Mum said in that voice that meant a lecture was loading.
“Like what?” I was both curious and desperate to keep her distracted enough not to realise the time.
“I’d suspect that he wishes he had more time with his parents. More attention. Maybe someone who told him to pick his towels up off the floor or ask him to give the carpet a vacuum to help out.” She knocked her hip into Seb’s.
“Nice try, Mum,” he drawled.
“Okay, maybe not those things.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “But I do believe that young man wishes he could be with his mother each night, even if it was just to do the dishes. Portia and Preston spend a lot of time away for work.”
My brother didn’t answer and when my sudden yawn broke the quiet, I realised my mistake.
“Okay, young lady. Teeth and bed.”
I wanted to argue but I was too distracted thinking about what she’d said about Cooper.
First, if he had so much money why did he spend weekends with us rather than going to every arcade in the country and who the heck would want rice and chicken wings if you could have whatever you wanted from a chef? I was going to have to ask him.
“Argghh, hold up a second,” Xavi interjected, and I rolled my eyes at the way his finger pointed upwards, his lips pursed. “Allow me to summarise and don’t correct me if I’m wrong,” he enunciated, his hands emphasising each word dramatically.
Taking a sip of my mango and mint smoothie, I sat back in my chair ready for the show.
If you asked Xavier, he would say we were friends, but he would add that he acquired me in our very first business lecture at uni. He spotted me “looking sadly tragic and alone” (debatable) and knew my life was in “desperate need of his vibrance” (also debatable).
I would argue he latched on, following me around like a fly regardless of any repellent I wore.
But where we would both agree, was now four years later, we were inseparable. He was the highlight of most of my days with his absurdity and hilarious anecdotes and he said I brought him joy because I could make him sweet treats and I donned the curls he wished he could have.
“So, Evy is it?” He asked and I rolled my eyes again, biting back a grin.
“You go out slaying in an outfit clearly chosen by a fashion guru-” Exaggeratedly, he brushed his non-existent long hair behind his ear before continuing.
“You are groped by an absolute buffoon, the girls lose their minds, then your hottie of a brother’s best friend - who is also the love of your life - arrives clad in leather and sexual heat and loses his mind, beating the shit out of the grabby fucker and his friends? ”
“Yeah, th –” With a sweep of his hand he cut me off, apparently not finished.
“I’m not done, sweetie.” Pausing he moved in closer.
“And then, Cooper-Penetrate-Me-Dane throws you over his shoulder, taking you home on the back of his bike, but not before making sure you were close enough for his arse to rub alllll over your –” he pointed beneath the table accusingly.
“And then you left him on read! I’m struggling to see how he is the problem here.
” He finished. “Other than the fact he didn’t convince you to let him have you then and there. On the back of his bike.”
“Xav, hush.” I snapped, my eyes darting around to ensure no one was eagerly listening. “He broke my teenage heart, remember? We hate him. Regardless of his bangability, he lacks all forms of a moral compass.”
“How so?”
“Well, he beat three men in a blind rage,” I said, exasperated.
“We already established he did that for you.”
“Isn’t that an alert in itself?”
“Yes!” He agreed. “A moisture alert, in our panties.” His unexpected retort sent me into a fit of giggles and his look of revulsion at the smoothie pouring from my nose only made it worse.
Dabbing my face and regaining some form of composure I shook my head, “You will always take his side.”
“Because he is an Adonis. And unless he begins wearing shorts below the knee, I am on his side.”
“Oh, that’s where you draw the line?” I said in mock horror.
“What can I say, I’m shallow with my prejudices. And speaking of –”
My phone interrupted whatever he was about to say, and I mouthed an apology before answering.
“Hey Seb, I’m just at brunch can I call you–”
“Sorry, I won’t keep you, I was just calling to see if you were still looking for that block of work you needed?”
“Sadly, yes. Why? Have you found the solution?” I asked, swirling my smoothie with the straw.
“Maybe. Coop needs someone to run his books at the distillery. I’m going to text you his new number. Shoot him an email today because he needs someone as soon as possible and it’s exactly what you need.”
Xavier was staring at me, most likely because I resembled a fish out of water with the way my mouth was opening and closing with no words escaping.
“Evs, you there?” My brother’s voice seized my attention again
“Sorry, yes. That would be amazing,” I croaked, feeling the complete opposite. Not to mention I already had his number after the other night, although I wasn't going to be able to tell him that when I could barely speak.
Oh my God, I mouthed to Xav who was staring at me with raised brows and no idea why I was flummoxed.
I garnered every ounce of enthusiasm I could muster when I thanked him again and hung up, despite the strange feeling settling in my stomach.
“Soooooooo, I may have somewhere to do my work experience.”
“Elaborate,” he replied eagerly.
“Seb’s friend owns a business and needs a bookkeeper. Not far from the city, which works out well, I guess.”
“So why does your face look like that?”
“Because his friend is the very last person I want to spend six weeks working with or for.” I explained plainly, tilting my head up to the sky as I blew out an exasperated breath.
“Pleaseeeee tell me it is the feisty, bruised knuckle boxer?” He grinned as if all his Christmases had come at once.
“One and the same.” I responded, not finding his corresponding cackle funny in the slightest.
I re-read my email draft. Deleting and re-writing the same four lines, now for the eighteenth time.
Formal or colloquial? Friendly or professional?
He would be my boss, so it should have some form of professionalism to the greeting, but he was also the same boy who ate the crusts off my sandwiches because they gave me the ick.
What was the protocol for emailing your potential supervisor who was also the only man you’d viciously masturbated over on more occasions than you could count?
I had always been far more confident in writing.
A girl in my Statistics class referred to me as acopic, although she also thought the only cows to produce milk were black and white, so her level of perspective was questionable.
Perhaps she was right though. Perhaps I wasn’t up to the task of managing simple social tasks and that was why I gravitated towards bolder, more flamboyant friends because they allowed me to take the passenger seat - to observe rather than lead.
I never wanted to be the loudest person in the room, in fact the very thought made my hands clammy.
Mr Dane,
Thank you for the ride home the other night. I am sincerely grateful for your
Too formal.
Yo Coops,
Seb told me to hit you up regarding possibly comin’ in to help out.
Ugh. Who even am I? That wasn’t right either.
Why was this so hard?
It wasn’t as if my entire scholarship could be riding on him accepting me for an unpaid internship or all my eggs were suddenly in the basket of the last person I had allowed to hurt me.
Well, the last person I’d actually cared about in that way.
Gahhhhhhh. My head hitting my desk hurt more than it should as my glasses dug into my temple. A quiet knock on the door, the only thing to stop me from repeating the action.
“Come in,” I called, my voice muffled against the wood.
“You okay in here, you’re groaning like a water buffalo,” Mum asked and I reluctantly turned my face to see her standing, a washing basket under one arm.
“Fine. Still trying to write this email,” I confessed. She knew all about the genius idea of her son, ever the saviour to anything he thought was a problem for us. She was also far too aware of my long, unrequited crush on the soon-to-be recipient.
“Honey, it’s only six-weeks. Keep it light. Sebby said he was desperate, so it seems to me that he needs you just as much as you need this internship. Besides, you’re the smartest person I know, he would be a daft prick not to accept you. And Coop is not daft, nor is he a prick.”
“Mum!” I admonished.
“Oops. I’ll add a dollar.” She grinned.
We’d shared a New Year’s resolution last year to cease swearing, deciding it was more of a challenge than anything else and I really didn’t think it would last, yet, eighteen months later and I was still going strong.
Externally anyway. Internally, I was swearing like a pirate, especially when assessments were due, or I was coming up to four hours staring at an empty screen with nothing other than the addressee completed.
It wasn’t just the nerves of sending an email to him but that it meant I was finally moving out of home. I'd never cared because I was with Mum. And what we had worked for both of us.
“Cooper is part of our family, darling. You know what he’s like. Plus, it’s time,” she said as if reading my mind. “I’m fifty-five years old, Evs. I promise I’ll be okay.” She brushed the hair from my forehead, the washing basket still firmly held with her other hand.
I made another noise indicating I knew she was right.
Since Seb moved out almost a decade ago, it had only been us.
Other than Mum’s boyfriends who came and went, it was always just the two of us, often going days without seeing each other due to my ridiculous schedule of studying and working part-time, but like two ships in the night, we knew there was someone else out there.
Until she went and got herself a boyfriend, proving how pathetic I really was when her social life surpassed my own.
“Toby’s moving in and maybe we can turn this room into a meditation studio. Yes! I could get some –”
“I haven’t even left yet and you’re re-decorating,” I whined with extra emphasis.
“No more groaning, send it and if he doesn’t accept, we can grow old together like a couple of spinsters.” She joked.
Was I really that person?
Were we going to start crocheting matching slippers as we watched Antiques Roadshow together?
“Okay, okay, writing and sending.” Mum laughed, knowing exactly what she needed to say to get me to suck it up and get things done.
“Once you’re done, come downstairs. I’ve got the mixer out,” she winked before closing my door. She was right. I would send this and then we could bake something delicious, taking my mind off all the reasons Cooper Dane was the last person I should call boss.
Hey!
It’s been a long time, right? Well, except the other night, but that didn’t really count, I suppose. Thank you for the ride home, never been on the back of a bike before. It was quite the experience.
Anyway, I’m emailing to see if you needed or wanted an intern. Seb mentioned you may need someone to help with the books and I’m seeking a six-week placement. I’m a little desperate if I’m honest and don’t have much longer before it becomes a serious problem.
Could be mutually beneficial and best of all, it’s an unpaid internship, so really, I just need someone willing to sign off that I did what was required. Although, I really would work hard and do whatever you needed me to do.
If this is something you could accommodate, please let me know. You have my number if you’d prefer to chat, or I could come in and talk more in person.
Evangeline.
“Girl, you basically just offered yourself to him on a platter,” Xavi said, his face only half on screen as he flossed his teeth.
“What?” I screeched. “How?”
“I really would work hard and do whatever was required, Mr. Dane.” He teased, sarcastic judgement in every single syllable.
“Oh my God,” I groaned. “I may as well have attached some nudes. Why am I like this?” I asked, utterly perplexed at how I was so socially inept yet maintained a Distinction average across every assessment.
“You’re a Mathema-queen. We’re all socially inept.”
“You aren’t,” I maintained. “You’re the life of every party.”
“True,” he replied with no hint of sarcasm to be seen.
Xavier was my antithesis. An extrovert to my introvert and the most confident person I knew – or so it seemed.
We both knew it was a charade for whatever skeletons he had hanging in his closet, but it was an unspoken agreement we didn’t emotionally support each other unless life was dire.
It was our totally unhealthy friendship code, and it worked for us.
“I’ll let you know if he replies. Going to make something sweet and minty.”
“When he replies,” he farewelled before ending the call without so much as a goodbye. Smiling, I plugged my phone in to charge and headed down to join Mum in the kitchen.