Chapter 14
Jordan wasn’t surprised when EJ wasn’t at church on Sunday. He knew it took longer for her to get to the inner-city service than it took him, which was one of the few downsides of living where she did.
But for her not to answer his call about meeting up for lunch like they’d promised seemed a little strange.
He hadn’t gotten the chance to say anything at the wedding.
Harriet was always there; then Aidan and Ben had joined them, and the music got too loud for real conversation.
He’d tried to speak to her, but she’d apologised and said she needed to go.
He’d hoped to maybe say something today, but she hadn’t answered his calls, and he didn’t want to look desperate, so he left it.
Instead, he called his mum for their weekly check-in.
“Hey, Mum, how’s it going?”
“Oh, Jordan. I do hope you’re faring better than we are here. Your father and I both have colds, even despite getting our winter flu injections. One would think they’d keep us from getting sick, but it doesn’t seem to have worked this year.”
“Maybe it’s a new strain of flu,” he suggested.
“Maybe. Anyway, why don’t you tell me what’s been happening in your part of the world? The photos from the wedding yesterday looked wonderful.”
“It was a good day.”
“I saw a picture of you and EJ.”
Ah, that. “She was there.”
“I could see that, Son. Have there been any developments on that front?”
“What do you mean?” She didn’t know about his feelings for EJ—did she?
“Well, I’ve seen a few pictures of her with that very rich man.”
“Oh, you mean Eric Churchill,” he said grumpily.
“My, what a handsome devil he is.”
“That about sums him up.”
“Oh, Jordan, you could at least sound a little bit pleased about it for her.”
“Pleased about what? Look, I have to admit I have a few questions about him.”
“You mean why a man of his status and reputation is pursuing our EJ?”
“Exactly.”
His mum was silent for a long moment. “Do you like her, is that it, Son?”
He closed his eyes. Nothing like being embarrassed by his mum.
This felt even worse than the time as a ten-year-old when he’d gone to school wearing shorts with a hole in the back, displaying his Superman undies to the world.
Except right now he felt like a bigger laughingstock than when the whole population of Wattle Vale Primary School had pointed at him and laughed.
“You know we’ve only ever been friends.”
“Oh, honey.”
He clamped his lips together. Today seemed a day when way too much honesty was spilling. He had no wish for any more. “It’s fine, Mum. Really.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
Could a response be filled with any more doubt?
“So, when do you think we’ll see you at the farm again?”
“I’m hoping to come in a couple of weeks for the June long weekend.” Maybe a bit of fresh air would help clear his head and heart.
“Good.” She sighed. “I still can’t get used to calling it the King’s Birthday weekend. Not when it was the Queen’s Birthday for so long.”
“I still can’t believe we get a public holiday for their birthday, on a date which is neither of their birthdays.”
“Not that you’ll argue with a day off.”
“No.” Work was hard enough he was always glad for a day off.
Even though he’d be fighting the traffic on Friday afternoon along with all the other Sydney escapees longing for the quiet life, then doing it all again on Monday afternoon.
It was guaranteed to be a traffic jam, as inevitably on these public holiday weekends someone had a car crash, holding people up for hours.
His phone buzzed with a message. His heart pricked. EJ. “Listen, Mum, I’ve gotta go. But I’ll call you again soon.”
“Tell EJ I said hello.”
How did Mum know it was her?
“Oh, and please tell her we’re looking forward to seeing her again. And that we’re hoping to have a bonfire on the farm soon. We’ve got all those fallen branches to clear, and I remember she always enjoyed when we had firecracker night all those years ago.”
“I remember.”
EJ had always had a thing about firecracker night.
And while it wasn’t like it used to be, according to his mum, who recalled bonfire nights when fireworks could be let off without needing the permits that authorities insisted on these days, they still had fun.
Toasting marshmallows. The proper Pascall’s pink and white ones, not those cheaper imitations.
His dad always liked to make damper sticks—dough wrapped around sticks or little branches from trees—or toast homegrown apples in the fire, then fill them with brown sugar and sultanas.
Back in the day, EJ had thought such events were for her, because every so often her birthday would fall on the public holiday.
Except instead of being the Queen’s Birthday weekend, or the King’s Birthday, she’d declare it was the Princess’ Birthday.
Which probably went far in saying how she felt about her aspirations—and about how others should treat her.
“Love you,” he said, then asked Mum to pass on a hug to Dad, who was dealing with a heifer that had broken its leg. He hoped that didn’t mean they’d be having steak on that bonfire.
He checked his message from EJ. “Sorry! I forgot we were doing lunch.”
That was it? No explanation, no excuse, except she forgot?
He didn’t want to take this personally. Except it felt very personal. Like she was putting aside the past to chase her future.
He patiently typed out the message his mum wanted to pass on.
“Mum said they’re planning a bonfire party for the long weekend. She hopes you’ll be around.”
Well, Mum hadn’t exactly said that, but that’s what she meant.
“Please tell her I said hi, and that I’m not sure what I’m doing that weekend. But thanks for letting me know.”
He winced. That didn’t sound like a yes. Much more like the opposite. Like she thought such things childish.
Added to the missed lunch and missed calls, it felt like she was blowing him off. And call him insecure, but it felt like their friendship was pulling thinner and thinner. He hoped it didn’t snap.
“All good?” Eric asked.
EJ nodded, as the sights and sounds of Bondi Icebergs surrounded her. It felt a little surreal to be here, with that long, curved slice of famous yellow sand dotted with tourists, even on this last Sunday in May.
Eric’s eyes gleamed. “Let me guess: Jordan doesn’t know you’re here with me.”
“Jordan is not my keeper.”
“Are you sure about that?” he goaded gently.
“Of course I’m sure.” She tucked a wedge of hair behind her ear. “I’m an independent woman and can make my own choices.”
“I like the fact you made this choice today. Thank you.”
His words might have sounded sincere, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he said them in a way to get back at Jordan.
Which, now that she thought about it, made her sound almost as megalomaniacal as Eric could seem sometimes.
Like the world revolved around him. And while she certainly knew the world didn’t revolve around her, she liked how these planets were spinning, and she was getting a taste for the finer things in life that came with getting swept up in the gravitational pull of Eric. The air was different here.
Maybe that was the effect of hanging out with people like him.
She started to see the world differently, grew a little more entitled.
Still, better than staying small-town all her life.
God bless Mrs. Knight, but did she seriously think EJ was twelve and wanted a bonfire for her birthday treat?
Bless her, but no. She’d much rather see what someone like Eric might try to do should she “just so happen” to mention it was her birthday very soon.
Her phone buzzed again. Jordan. Again. “Stay safe.”
She barely refrained from rolling her eyes.
What did he take her for? She wasn’t so naive as to jump in Eric’s car and go back to his place, even though she was still intrigued about how the other half lived.
Lunch with Eric was simply that: lunch. And maybe discussing a few more of the finer details about the app.
It certainly wasn’t a date. In fact, Eric might tease her, but he still hadn’t made any moves that made her think he really did like her in that way.
Which suggested he didn’t really like her in that way.
Which—if she was completely honest—felt a little disconcerting.
“Jordan again?” Eric asked.
“He’s a little protective.”
“What does he want this time?”
By answer, she held up the phone to him, watched his face as he read the message.
“Stay safe?” he murmured. “What does he think I’m going to do?”
“Like I said, he’s protective.”
“Your big brother.”
She shrugged, letting that slide. She might have long regarded Jordan in that way, but the wedding had started her noticing other things.
Like the fact that Jordan wasn’t just her friend anymore.
He was her handsome friend. The one other ladies admired.
And while she didn’t want to act jealous, she also didn’t want to ignore that things between them were changing. And not necessarily for the better.
She lifted her chin. “If it’s all the same with you, I’d rather not talk about him anymore.”
“Let me guess. You’d rather talk about how delicious this Italian food is.”
“It is pretty amazing.” Like, out-of-this-world amazing.
She’d never been to Italy, but this was what she imagined authentic Italian food must taste like.
Certainly not the packet spaghetti and homemade Bolognese sauce that she’d had nearly every week growing up in Wattle Vale. “I love seafood, and this is so good.”
Eric ate another tender piece of ravioli. “Mm. This reminds me of a trip I took to Tuscany. Very delicious.” He drank some wine. “Have you been?”
“To Tuscany? No.”
“Italy?” he prompted, amusement in his eyes.
Her cheeks flushed. “Nor there, either. I am hoping to visit my sister in England in the not-too-distant future.”
“Where is she?”
She spent the next little while describing Olivia’s new life working at a Grade II listed manor house in England’s Cotswold region. Well, right next door to it, anyway. On the southernmost tip of Worcestershire.
He took another sip of wine. “She sounds just as industrious as you.”
“I think we’ve all got that gene. Except for my youngest sister, Katie. I still don’t think she knows what she wants to do with her life.” Which reminded EJ—she really needed to check in with her family and make sure they were all okay.
“What is Katie doing?” he asked.
She told him about Katie’s studies in history, marvelling at the fact that someone like him could be interested in the ordinary family details of her own life.
EJ and her family were boring. He was not.
His life was splashed across tabloids around the world, reported on in documentaries.
So the fact he took an interest in her family softened her heart yet more.
Her phone buzzed again. She turned it over, catching a glimpse of Elinor’s name, which made her pause. “Sorry. I hate that we keep getting interrupted.”
“I’m okay if you wish to answer it.”
“It’s my sister. I’ll just check the message, if that’s all right.”
“Be my guest.”
See? She bet Jordan didn’t realise how gracious Eric could be. He’d been nothing but accommodating.
She hastily read Elinor’s message. “Jordan just invited us to a bonfire for your birthday at Highbury on the long weekend.”
“What?”
“What is it?” Eric eyed her over the rim of his newly filled wineglass.
“The nerve of the man,” she muttered. Then sighed. “Sorry.”
“Is something the matter? Do you need to make a call?”
“Probably.” But she didn’t want to spoil the afternoon by going off to make a phone call that would be unpleasant. “My sister just told me that Jordan has apparently arranged a birthday bonfire night for me in June.”
“It’s your birthday soon?”
She nodded. “It’s always around the long weekend. And we used to have a tradition of going to Jordan’s parents’ place to have a bonfire.”
“That sounds charming.”
Charming? See? Eric obviously thought it was unsophisticated too. “It was charming—when I was ten. Now it seems like something that should stay in the past.”
“What would you prefer to do if you could do anything in the world?”
“You mean apart from visit Tuscany?”
His eyebrows rose. “I’m sure that could be arranged if you really wanted.”
She swallowed. Did he mean to make it sound like he would do the arranging—if she really wanted? Oh, how stupid to think that. Come on.
“As nice as that would be, I think I’d rather do something in the city. See a play or the ballet or something like that.”
“You don’t wish to spend time with your family?” He watched her carefully.
“I’ve spent every birthday with my family.”
“All twenty-five of them.”
“All twenty-seven,” she corrected, then realised she’d just told him her age. Which he probably knew anyway, given his “people” would have dug into her background to find out more about her.
“Well, if you’d like to do something different, say the word. Which day are we talking?”
“The Monday. The actual day the public holiday falls on.”
He nodded. “Well, if you’ll put your trusting self in my hands, I’m sure we could come up with something a little more interesting than a bonfire.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate all the trouble they’ve gone to over the years. But it’s not like I’m ten anymore.”
“No, indeed.” His gaze flickered down from her face, and she was newly aware that her neckline was a little lower than she was used to.
But dressing like this meant she fit in with the glamorous crowd who ate here, and that was the main thing.
And now, having been seen with Eric Churchill a number of times, she didn’t want to embarrass him by being dressed inappropriately.
If only Alissa could see her now, living her best life, with not a secondhand piece of clothing to be seen.
Eric smiled. “I’d be very happy to plan something on that weekend, if you’re willing to trust me.”
That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? She sipped her drink. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I’m happy.”
“You trust me?” he asked, offering a deep look.
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, then nodded.
This didn’t feel like they were talking about a meal anymore. This felt a lot bigger, a lot more real.
“Well, in that case, maybe you need to reply and say you already have plans.”
He waited until she did that. Then he smiled. “And we’ll make sure this is a birthday you’ll never forget. Okay?”
She dipped her chin. “Okay.”