‘Rosé sounds nice.’ Cassie poured the two drinks, sat on her hostess’s right and took a slow look around the room. She hadn’t seen it, apart from a quick glance in on her arrival.
The antique mantelpiece, the polished sideboard and two of the papered walls held photographs of family. In here they were casual or celebratory. In the family room, school and sporting pictures covered all four walls. Jack was easily recognisable in many of them.
‘Does Jack call in often?’ She oughtn’t to ask, but couldn’t hold back.
‘It depends on his work. Though he lives twenty minutes from here, most of his regular clients are in the northern and eastern suburbs. You understand the drawbacks of driving that distance.’
Cassie sipped her drink and pondered. Travelling time plus fuel-inflated costs influenced choices, especially for pensioners. Word-of-mouth referrals meant the majority of her clients lived north of Adelaide, as she did. Mel’s insistence she stayed the Tuesday to Thursday nights in her Woodcroft home meant her quote had been favourable.
‘He wasn’t too pleased at your sleeping here. He tends to be cautious where I’m concerned. I told him he should be pleased I wasn’t alone.’
‘It’s good he isn’t sensitive about showing how much he cares.’
‘True, I love that the family are so considerate, just don’t like to be reminded I’m getting older. I’ve warned Jack but he can be tenacious, Cassie. He’ll try to sneak subtle questions into general conversation.’
He already had, and wasn’t subtle at all.
‘He can ask anything he likes.’ She didn’t have to answer.
Sam’s bark echoed from the hall. A moment later he trotted in and curled onto a rug. Jack followed shortly behind, wearing a clean green T-shirt, his boots replaced by black and red runners. Uncapped bottle in hand, he stooped to kiss Mel’s forehead.
‘Sam was pretty keen today; didn’t stop once.’
He sat opposite Cassie, took a deep swig of beer and surveyed her with penetrating interest, causing her to stretch her shoulders. Neither he nor Mel seemed to find it incongruous for him to drink from the bottle at a formally set dinner.
As if reading her thoughts, he carefully poured the remaining liquid into the glass by his cutlery. His sudden grin tripped her heartbeat and sent her pulse racing. She so had to find a way to combat his charm.
‘Maybe you should come with us next time. The way your skin glows, I figure you run on a regular basis.’
He thought she glowed? How could one sentence in a casual tone send tiny quivers of pleasure dancing down her spine? Her fingers trembled as she sipped her wine, hoping she didn’t choke from the sudden tightness in her throat.
Unless all three housemates were home she ate simple meals and salad. This setting was perfect, the grilled steak delicious and the vegetables slightly crunchy, the way she preferred them. This was how she imagined dining in a fancy restaurant would feel, except Jack would be dressed in appropriate attire.
She tried to picture him in a tailored suit and tie and failed. Yet that niggling thought that he projected only what he wanted people to see persisted. His upbringing almost guaranteed black tie in the wardrobe.
‘Cassie, are you with us?’ Mel’s question startled her.
‘Sorry, I was daydreaming, trying to remember when I’ve had a tastier meal.’ She avoided looking across the table, hoping the blush spreading up her neck and cheeks wouldn’t be noticeable under the soft lights of the overhead chandelier.
‘Thank you. We were discussing my granddaughter Janette in Melbourne, whose baby is due in five weeks. I’m going to be a great-grandmother.’
Cassie was acutely aware of Jack’s keen interest, but didn’t understand how that concerned her.
‘That’s so exciting.’ An ideal event to strengthen Mel’s mental recovery.
‘Another sign that life moves on. Deciding to cull my clothes has been freeing for me. I think I’m ready to let go of some items I keep simply because of the past. Would you consider working out a plan to help me downsize in short stages between other commitments?’
Wow, that came out of the blue. She liked Mel and her positive attitude to life, and would happily take on the assignment under normal conditions. Yet Jack’s presence added an emotive element; one she’d have to conquer if she accepted.
He’d be occupied elsewhere during the day and hopefully there wouldn’t be too many evening visits when she stayed over on weeknights. She’d have to be polite and aloof in his company, professional to a T, and avoid any physical contact.
‘I’m sure I can.’ As she finished speaking, she turned as if pulled by an invisible thread to Jack’s enigmatic green eyes.
* * *
Jack hoped his features didn’t reveal his conflicting thoughts. Mel living alone in this big house had worried the family since Bob’s death. Any attempt to discuss sharing or buying a smaller residence had been firmly rejected so the subject had been dropped. If Cassie’s references were as good as Mel claimed, he’d normally have no reservations about her employment.
The problem was him and his instant attraction to her. Hell, he was a mature man and the solution was obvious. Avoid visiting when she was here, and act like the mature man he was supposed to be whenever they met.
‘Won’t that be inconvenient for you?’ He kept his tone as impassive as possible, not easy when her eyes glinted as if she’d read his indecisive mind.
‘Many of my clients are retired, often with health problems. Every contract allows for unforeseen contingencies, and I’ve become extremely adept at rescheduling. There have been times when I’ve juggled multiple jobs successfully.’
She faced Mel. ‘Tomorrow we’ll sit down with diaries and discuss what and when.’
‘Good, that’s settled.’ Mel lifted her wineglass in salute and Cassie clinked it with hers as a signal of agreement. Jack followed suit with his near-empty glass of beer, trying to fathom why he felt as if he’d somehow scored a win.
They debated their favourite television shows over a dessert of fresh fruit and whipped cream. Jack teased Mel about her favourite soap operas, claiming she’d converted many of his generation into avid fans. And wondered why Cassie’s smile at the interaction wasn’t mirrored in her eyes.
He professed not to watch much at all. ‘Sport, documentaries or investigative programmes—whatever’s on at the time. I’d pick you for a movie girl, Cassie, romance or high adventure.’
‘Wrong. Comedies or space sagas, as long as they’re well written and acted. If not, I switch channels. I also enjoy home improvement shows.’
‘How long do you give them before you click?’ He intensified his gaze as he spoke and waited for her answer. Her viewing habits were irrelevant; her character intrigued him.
‘That depends on how bad it is, what else is on and how tired I am.’
Clever, evasive answer.
* * *
The heat coursing through Cassie’s veins had nothing to do with the fake wood fire warming the room, and everything to do with the fact that Jack had turned his attention towards her. His smile and slight raise of one eyebrow hinted he read her true thoughts. He was wrong, couldn’t possibly know Mum’s favourite programme, always set to tape so never missed, was an enduring Aussie soapy.
Stretching her back, she rose and reached for his bowl. ‘I’ll stack the dishwasher if you make the hot drinks?’
‘None