Twist of Fate

THIRTEEN

Thirteen

Bel soaked in the scenery, excited to be in a new city. The sky was a gorgeous shade of blue with only a few fluffy white clouds to break up its vastness. A winding, pristine river was skirted by lush green parkland and in the distance was a sprinkling of high-rises. When the taxi finally reached Tate’s apartment building, Bel climbed out, shooed away by Tate and the driver unloading their bags. The gleaming building overlooked the river in what looked like a very upmarket part of the city and Bel itched to explore her surrounds—although possibly after a long hot shower and a sleep. It had been a big day: getting up early, driving to the airport and then lots of waiting. But they’d made it and her adventure was well and truly under way.

Bel followed Tate inside the impressive lobby, and she tried not to gawk like the tourist she was at the sparkling chrome and glistening tiles as they walked across to the elevators.

‘Doing okay?’ Tate asked as the doors slid closed.

Bel nodded and smiled up at him. ‘I can’t believe I’m here.’

‘Better believe it. Tomorrow, we’ll play tourist and you’ll get a proper look at the place.’

Tate held the door open for her to walk into the apartment and Bel let out an audible gasp as she took it all in. It was like something out of a movie. Wide glass windows and sliding doors opened out to views of the river, bridges and wharfs below. Bel stepped outside onto a large balcony entertainment area. A cluster of outdoor lounge chairs sat up one end with a fire pit in the middle then a dining table at the other end. A built-in stainless-steel barbeque gleamed in a modest outdoor kitchen area. Huge pots with lush green palms were scattered around, a row of them stretching off to one side along the glass-panelled balustrade. Four high bar stools were tucked under a timber bar top, the perfect place to take advantage of the stunning, uninterrupted view.

‘What do you think?’ Tate asked, coming up beside her.

‘This place is … Oh my God, I can’t even …’ she stammered, lost for words. ‘I don’t know how you tear yourself away from it to go to work.’

‘It’s not easy. Come on, there’s more to see,’ he said, taking her hand; she followed him reluctantly away from the view. She couldn’t wait to come back out here in a few hours and watch the sunset.

‘Hang on,’ she said, releasing his hand to take out her phone. ‘I’m texting Emma to let her know I got here.’

‘Bel, she’s not your mother.’

Bel glanced up after hitting send. ‘She’s my best friend.’

‘She’s a little overprotective, and seems to have a lot of say in your life.’

‘Emma?’ Bel said with a chuckle. She was surprised to see he was serious. ‘She’s just looking out for me.’

‘Don’t you think it’s time you lived your own life and stopped worrying about what other people think?’

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’

‘Yes, you are, and I plan on showing you how great it is over here.’

He planted a gentle kiss on her mouth that melted into a tender, lingering moment, wiping away her confusion about his comments. ‘Come on.’

Inside, the apartment was tastefully decorated in oatmeal and creams with lots of Tasmanian oak-like timber, giving the interior a light, airy feel. It was beautiful but it wasn’t what she’d call cosy. It was too sophisticated for that. Bel felt a small pang for her little house back in Wessex, but firmly pushed it aside. You’re here now. On an adventure.

The kitchen was open-plan, sleek and modern, and Bel imagined herself cooking dinner as she looked out over the magnificent view.

A hallway behind the living area was lined with doors, and Tate opened one on the right to reveal a huge suite, including a small balcony overlooking the city with a glimpse of the river. A walk-in wardrobe was next to a substantial bathroom with a double shower and a giant sunken bathtub that took pride of place in front of a massive window. Bel eyed it warily, noting the absence of anything as unsightly as curtains or blinds, and wondered if many people in the building not so far across the way had telescopes.

‘Across the hall is the spare room and another bathroom,’ Tate said, cutting into her thoughts.

This place was sophisticated and expensive—exactly the kind of place Jax Lexington would live in. Stop it. She knew she had stop thinking about Jax and making these kinds of comparisons. It didn’t seem like a healthy thing to do to compare your real-life boyfriend with your fictional one. In fact, it was rather delusional, if she were being honest. And yet … at times, she couldn’t help making the comparisons. Both were charming and handsome and had a smile that could melt hearts. It had seemed like Jax had stepped out of a book and turned into Tate. She’d spent so long fantasising about Jax, it wasn’t an easy thing to turn off overnight. She knew Tate wasn’t a storybook hero; he wasn’t an ex-special forces operative who could survive almost impossible odds and walk away from exploding buildings. He was just a man. And so what if Tate hadn’t really done anything outrageously heroic? It wasn’t as if they were living a danger-filled world like the one in the Lexington Millionaires series. This was real life, and these comparisons simply weren’t practical—and were possibly a little bit crazy.

Whether he was the real-life Jax Lexington or not, meeting Tate was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. Taking a chance meant taking risks and trusting that everything would be okay. For way too long, she’d taken the safe road, too scared to let go of what she was comfortable with. Where had that gotten her? She was almost thirty and she hadn’t even lived.

Tate had been sent to her for a reason, and she wasn’t going to throw away her chance at finding her happily-ever-after just because this had happened fast and without much warning. People did wild things for love all the time. Why couldn’t she?

Had she fallen in love? She wasn’t exactly sure. It felt how every single romance she’d ever read said that it was supposed to feel. She had the butterflies in her stomach, and that breathy feeling when he kissed her. Was he in love? He’d asked her to come back here with him. Surely men didn’t randomly ask that of complete strangers? She knew these feelings had caught him by surprise too—he’d said so—but … was it love? What else could it be?

Bel opened her eyes and for a fleeting second was confused. Then all the sensations came crashing down around her. She smelled the clean, fresh smell of new furniture and barely walked on carpet and saw the early morning sunlight filtering in through huge glass windows. She felt the feathery light touch of expensive sheets and the heavier weight of an arm across her torso. She rolled her head sideways and soaked in the image of the man beside her. He was perfection. Seriously, how did he manage to look so damn perfect even when he was asleep? Something no mere mortal could achieve, especially her. When she woke up, she mostly resembled a cockatoo, and she didn’t want her first morning on her new adventure to start out with bed hair.

She slowly slid out from under Tate’s arm, dug out her toiletry bag and tiptoed her way to the bathroom across the hall so as not to disturb him.

She’d intended to climb back into bed and wait for him to get up, but after brushing her teeth and splashing her face with water, she found herself too wide awake to go back to sleep. Instead, she went out to the kitchen, greeted by a view through the ceiling-to-floor windows that was nothing short of breathtaking. The pale pinks and purples in the sky suddenly gave way to a glowing ball of golden light that bled across the horizon and filled the room with a warm yellow glow. She’d never seen anything quite like it before. Sure, she’d seen her share of sunrises—she did have to open the store early every morning—but the view in Wessex was nothing like the view from a high-rise building overlooking a magnificent river.

Bel eyed the coffee maker on the kitchen bench and felt her mouth start to water. She wanted a coffee so bad, but she had the feeling that even if she could figure out how to work this monstrosity of an appliance, it would be loud enough to wake the dead—or, in this case, the hunk of spunk up the hallway.

There was nothing else for it; she’d have to go out. It was still early. She could nip out, buy a coffee and then duck back before Tate even knew she was gone. She looked at the clock. He’d told her once that he liked to sleep in when he wasn’t working. With a final frustrated glance at the coffee machine, she left the kitchen.

She tiptoed back into the bedroom and quietly rifled through her suitcase until she found what she needed, then stealthily withdrew once more. As she dressed, she considered that if she got desperate for a job, she could maybe try her hand at becoming a cat burglar. Or a secret agent. She found the key in the beautiful handblown glass dish on the hall table where Tate had dropped it last night and slid it into the pocket of her jeans, along with her phone, then softly eased the front door shut behind her.

Armed with directions for a cafe from the young man at the front desk, Bel headed outside. There were more people around than she’d expected for the hour, plenty of dog walkers and joggers, and she paused to tilt her head back and breathe in the crisp morning air. The city felt alive.

She located the cafe, noting it was, like most things in this part of town, very fancy. The display cabinet had obscenely decadent pastries and other delicious offerings and it would have taken a will of steel to resist. Bel added a croissant to her order and enjoyed the heady smell of calories that floated around her while she waited.

She had planned to take her coffee straight back up to the apartment, but she decided to take a quick walk first. She walked to Barrack Square and then across to the jetty, leaning against the railing as she listened to the gentle slap of the water against the luxurious yachts. You certainly don’t get this in Wessex . This was like a whole other world.

Tipping her cup up, she was surprised to find she’d finished her coffee. She pulled out her phone, starting at the time. She’d been away longer than she’d intended.

When she opened the door to the apartment, she found Tate standing at the kitchen bench, waiting.

‘Where have you been?’ he asked. His tone was off; not angry, but definitely short.

‘Sorry, I ducked out to grab a coffee and lost track of time. It’s so beautiful out there.’

‘I thought we planned to go sightseeing together?’

‘We did. We are. I only went down to the wharf. I didn’t want to disturb you while you were sleeping.’

‘I thought you’d take advantage of the fact you didn’t have to get up and go to work to sleep in too.’

Bel gave a wry smile. ‘My body clock didn’t get the memo.’

‘I got up to cook you breakfast.’

‘Oh. Great. I can help,’ she said brightly, until she saw him shrug and straighten.

‘Let’s just go out for breakfast,’ he said with a huff.

‘Okay,’ Bel said. ‘If that’s what you want to do.’

‘I don’t feel like cooking now. I’m going to jump in the shower. Will you be ready to leave after that?’

‘Of course,’ Bel said, sending him a smile that he barely saw as he headed for the bedroom. It faded slowly. What had happened to change his mood?

By the time they were both ready to leave the apartment, things seemed to have righted themselves and he was back to his usual, charming self. He took her to a cafe not far from his apartment and they sat outside where they could see the water and watch the growing crowds. ‘Two of the big breakfasts, thanks,’ Tate said, smiling at the waitress after they’d been seated and she’d returned to take their orders.

‘Oh, I don’t usually have too much for breakfast,’ Bel said, startled that he’d ordered for her.

‘It’s the best thing on the menu. Besides, you’ll need it, I’ve got a big day planned.’ He nodded firmly at the waitress, and she scurried off to place their order.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about him taking charge like that—but a take-charge guy was kind of sexy. After all, Jax was that kind of man—confident and decisive. But not once had he ever decided what his date should be eating , a little voice pointed out. Which was also true. She let it go though, he was probably just excited about showing her all the things he enjoyed about where he lived.

Bel was glad for her big breakfast once they started their day. They walked for miles, taking in the parks and the art on the Promenade, then wandering across the Elizabeth Quay Bridge before taking a sunset river cruise and eating dinner down near the jetty.

‘So, what do you think?’ Tate said as they sat on his balcony afterwards and looked out over the river and the lights of the city beyond.

‘Of what in particular?’

‘Of this place. Is it as great as I told you it would be?’

‘It’s amazing,’ she said, absolutely meaning it.

‘Are you glad you decided to come?’

‘I am.’

‘Could you see yourself staying?’ he asked quietly.

Bel moved slightly so as to see his face. ‘Staying?’

‘Yeah. Moving over here. Permanently.’

Move here. She’d been soaking in the atmosphere of the place, taking in everything around her, and envying the people who were lucky enough to call it their home. She hadn’t been imagining herself becoming one of them … until now. A million thoughts began racing through her head. Was it all happening too fast? But then, how could it be too fast when she’d manifested him? She’d been ready to meet her soulmate, to be swept off her feet—and she had been. She was living the Jax Lexington life, minus the espionage and near-death experiences. This is what you’ve been waiting for. But there were other questions, practical ones like what would she do? How would she support herself? Where would she live?

‘I can see the wheels spinning in that head of yours,’ Tate chuckled.

‘There’s a lot to think about. I’m not sure how it would work. I don’t know if I could move in with you.’ It was one thing to do something like a short stay. That was out of character enough, but to move in together, like a couple? She could hear Emma’s voice in her head, demanding to know what the hell she was thinking

‘I’d have to find a job.’ Leave my old one . ‘Leave Wessex.’ Leave home. She was almost stunned by the idea.

‘Would that be the end of the world? I mean, it’s not like you were going anywhere there,’ he pointed out.

Bel felt a tiny ripple of irritation at his words. Jax would never irritate her. He always knew the right thing to say. She tried to think exactly what he would say in this situation and honestly couldn’t. Jax would never be having this conversation.

But Tate was right. Wessex was not going to change any time soon, and her job was not going to get any more stimulating either. But what else could she do? Anything . You could literally do anything else. Which was also true.

‘I don’t know … I guess I could think about it.’

‘I think you should,’ he said, and she looked up into his serious gaze. ‘Because I don’t want to say goodbye to you in a few days’ time.’

‘But … why?’ she asked, genuinely confused by his request. ‘Why me?’

‘You’re stunning,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘and different to anyone I’ve ever met. You’ve got this innocence about you that I know I won’t find with anyone else.’

‘I think it’s probably because I don’t come from your world. I’m not like Larkin and the others.’

‘And that’s exactly what I like.’

‘But you don’t really know me. What if you get sick of whatever it is you seem to like about me? What if you want …’ she trailed off, searching for the right words to voice her concerns, the courage to say them. What happens if the novelty does wear off? What will you do then?

‘All I know is I’ve never been this captivated with anyone. I want to see where it goes.’

His words dripped down her spine like warm honey, melting her uncertainty. She was utterly enchanted by him and when he looked at her with that brooding, almost hypnotic gaze, the heady emotion was impossible to resist. And she refused to let any little niggly concerns that were floating in the back of her mind spoil the moment.

They spent the next three days exploring further afield, places like Fremantle and Rottnest Island, Margaret River and its wineries. Tate spared no expense as they dined and wined their evenings away, spoiling her with amazing experiences.

Bel took extra care dressing for dinner when Tate informed her they were going to a well-known restaurant. She came out only to stop short at the frown on his face. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Where’s the white dress I gave you the other day?’

‘It’s pretty revealing,’ she said, confused by his abrupt question.

‘It’s probably more appropriate for where we’re going.’

‘What’s wrong with this?’ she asked, looking down at the new black satin wide-leg pants and gold halter-neck top she’d brought with her. She felt incredibly chic in the outfit.

‘I prefer you in dresses.’ He shrugged. ‘Go try the white one on for me.’

Bel stared at him for a moment, unsure exactly how to take his request. His frown vanished and that sexy smile of his was back in place.

‘Sorry, babe. No, you’re right. What you’re in is fine. It’s just that, when I booked the restaurant, I was picturing you in that dress.’

Now she felt weird. Maybe pants weren’t a good idea. Her previous excitement over getting ready was replaced with the same nervous anxiety she’d had during the wedding, unsure that what she was doing was good enough compared to the other women, who seemed so confident and graceful. They knew what to wear and how to put on make-up, the kinds of things Bel really hadn’t cared about before meeting Tate. They would have known the white dress was the thing for this occasion without needing to be told. ‘No, it’s okay. I’ll go try it on.’

As she stepped into the slinky gown, Bel tried to push away the disappointment that had gathered in her stomach. What did she know about any of this anyway? The last thing she wanted to do was to be an embarrassment. She tugged at the dress’s neckline, which exposed a lot more cleavage than she would normally be comfortable with, but gave up when it refused to budge. She changed her heels and headed back out.

‘Beautiful,’ he breathed.

She smiled then melted as he slid a hand behind her neck, pulling her towards him for a deep kiss. Maybe she’d been overly sensitive before. Was it really such a big deal to feel annoyed that he’d asked her to change outfits? How could she be upset when he was helping her and when this was his reaction? Jax would never ask any of his women to change their clothes. The thought came from out of the blue, and she quickly pushed it away with another: The women Jax dated would have known what to wear . Tate was wonderful—the perfect boyfriend. He’d been showering her with gifts since she’d arrived. He was attentive and affectionate. He lived in the perfect place with a perfect view. Everything was … perfect, so much so that she often wondered if her alarm was about to go off for work and she would wake to discover it was all just a magical dream.

However, even dreams did eventually have to end. Early one morning, Tate’s phone went off and he was summoned back to work.

‘I’m really sorry, Bel. If I could hand this over to someone else, I would, but there’s been an emergency and I need to go out there and sort it out. It should only be for a night. I’ll call you later,’ he said, kissing Bel and leaving her standing in the kitchen.

She only had three days left until she had to go back, and it looked like she’d be spending almost half of it by herself. But it wasn’t Tate’s fault, so she tried not to mope about. It did give her some much-needed breathing room to sort through the multitude of emotions that had been swirling inside her over the last few days. She couldn’t think straight when Tate was near her. He made everything seem so … possible. It was only now he wasn’t here that she could start to unpack everything and try to make sense of what she was feeling.

Tate made it clear he wanted this relationship, or whatever it was between them, to continue. That just wouldn’t be practical if she was in Wessex.

Only, reality was trying to point out a few details. She’d have to give up her job … her house … her friends. Was a relationship worth all that sacrifice? Emma had her husband and her own family. The Dwyers would train someone else to do her job—it wasn’t exactly brain surgery. Wessex wasn’t going to collapse without her; life would continue whether she was there or not. It was her happiness and future that she should be putting first for once. After all this time, she finally had a chance to do something new.

Around mid-morning, Bel decided she couldn’t stand being alone with the thoughts running around on an endless loop inside her head. She grabbed her handbag, slid on her sunglasses and headed out.

The hustle and bustle of the city was a welcome relief. The energy was contagious—it wasn’t the same busy, impersonal, city-rush of Sydney. Perth had a more laid-back feel which appealed to Bel immensely.

She noticed a number of cafes had ‘Positions Wanted’ signs in the windows and she took down their names. It wouldn’t hurt to maybe do a little reconnaissance, perhaps do up a new résumé to hand in to a few places. After stopping in for a coffee and some lunch at one such place, Bel looked across the street and noticed a bookshop. It stood out among the more modern buildings around it, with its little cottage-type front and brightly coloured flowerpots hanging on either side of its doorway. After finishing her meal, Bel decided to investigate. She never could resist a bookstore—that new book smell wrapped around her shoulders like a familiar friend hugging her and she breathed it in deeply.

She took out her phone and recorded a video showing the cute little store, knowing her followers would be as excited as she was to have a look inside.

The interior was much larger than she’d expected from the street. Shelves lined the walls with new titles, and tables of every size and shape were artistically scattered around the centre of the store. A huge, whitewashed timber table housed a stack of books in shades of lilac and purple, which surrounded a large milk jug overflowing with lavender. Another nearby table, this one lower and round, had a display of vibrant yellow and orange books, while a bookshelf to her left had been filled with books of different-coloured spines, arranged in a rainbow effect. A small room to the rear of the store had a red arched door with red and white spotted mushrooms painted on either side of it. FAIRYTALE LAND, read the timber signpost pointing inside.

Bel could only sigh as she continued to explore.

In the romance section, two women in their mid-twenties were talking quietly as they picked up books and put them back down again.

‘I don’t know which one to buy. I’ve found myself in a real reading slump lately. I want something amazing to reignite me again, you know?’

‘I’m in the same boat. There is literally nothing to read.’

Bel tried to bite back the urge to correct her. There literally was … they were standing in the middle of a bookshop! ‘Excuse me, sorry,’ Bel butted in apologetically. ‘I couldn’t help but overhear and I was wondering, have either of you read Alison Gatsby? She has a series called Lexington Millionaires. I’ve read them cover-to-cover so many times, I’ve lost count.’ She reached to the shelf behind the women and pulled out book one. ‘It’s a great book, if you’re getting a bit tired of the same old tropes and need to shake things up a bit. I think you’ll like it.’

‘Thanks,’ the first woman smiled as she began eagerly reading the back cover. ‘This does sound good. I think I’ll try it.’

Bel found herself smiling. It was always satisfying when one of her posts or reviews about a book or an author struck a chord with other readers—even more so when they came back later to say how much they’d loved her suggestions—and it was even better when she was face-to-face with someone. She could see their expressions and hear the anticipation and excitement in their voices as they discovered a book that had given her so much joy herself—and the fact it had happened so spontaneously made it even more special.

Another woman, about sixty-odd, walked up behind Bel as she turned away from the first two. ‘Excuse me, but do you know where the thriller section is?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t work here,’ she said, but recalled walking past it on her way to the romance section. ‘Although I think I saw it, two aisles over.’

‘Oh. Thanks so much,’ the older lady said as she wandered off.

‘Would you like to?’ a voice asked, making Bel glance to her right.

‘Sorry?’ Bel asked the short-haired, middle-aged man who was leaning against the shelf.

‘Would you like to work here?’

Bel blinked, unsure what he was playing at.

‘I’m Terry Collingwood, owner of Bookish Delights. I overheard your sales pitch.’

‘It wasn’t really a pitch. I’m just an avid reader helping out some other readers.’

‘Seriously, I’m in desperate need of someone who knows their stuff. The last kid I hired stood at the front counter and stared at their phone all day. Do you have any idea how difficult Christmas lunch was after I had to fire my own nephew?’

‘Oh dear,’ Bel murmured sympathetically. ‘Well, I might be looking for a job … if I decide to stay on over here. I only came for a visit, but …’

‘Sounds like fate, doesn’t it?’ He smiled, and Bel’s breath caught slightly at his choice of words.

Yes. Yes, it does.

‘Let me get you a cuppa and we’ll have a chat,’ Terry said, leaving her to stare after him mutely. ‘Come on, we have a coffee station.’

Of course they did. This place was heaven.