That was the general idea. ‘Who needs enemies when you’ve got a big brother, right?’ Chloe joked, hearing the slight criticism in her boss’s voice. She worked on letting it slide over her. Unlike many of her colleagues, she didn’t bring her private life to work—mostly because she didn’t have one.
Instead, she chatted about her new apartment with the sea view—a ten-centimetre glimpse of the ocean from her kitchen sink—her bushwalks in the rainforest hinterland around Mt Warning, and her latest adventures with sea kayaking. All of it kept the conversation firmly off the very personal.
Her reticence to share stemmed from experience. She’d learned a long time ago that the more you told people about your life, the more questions they asked, and she was only prepared to talk about the last couple of years. Any further back didn’t bear thinking about.
‘So what did you get for your birthday, Chloe?’ Richard asked, licking chocolate off his fingers.
She slid a photo out of her pocket and metaphorically crossed her fingers that the sheer cuteness factor of the photo would forestall the inevitable comments. ‘Chester.’
‘Oh, my God! He’s just like the puppy on the toilet-paper ads,’ Kate, a fellow nurse, gushed. ‘How old is he?’
‘Eight weeks.’
‘That’s little.’ Kate frowned. ‘Who’s looking after him while you’re at work?’
‘He’s at doggie daycare.’
‘Doggie daycare?’ Richard rolled his eyes. ‘Showing us photos of a dog is a sure sign you need a man and a baby.’
Chloe tried unsuccessfully not to let his words slap her. Richard was a congenial guy who had no idea his off-the-cuff comment encapsulated everything she wanted in her life but could never have. ‘Dogs are so much easier,’ she tried to quip lightly, ‘and, unlike you, my puppy will eventually be house-trained.’
Richard laughed good-naturedly as his pager beeped. Grabbing the last two Tim Tams before Kate could stop him, he called the students to follow him and he left with a wicked grin.
Keri looked at the photo of Chester. ‘He is cute. Did I show you the photo of Tahlia dressed up as a cat?’
‘You did.’ Chloe tried to stop the smile on her face from freezing. She’d seen every photo of Tahlia from a wet, slippery newborn on her mother’s chest right up to the most recent ones taken on her second birthday. Keri, like most proud parents, loved to spread her mother joy around, sharing every milestone with anyone and everyone who would listen. If they didn’t want to listen, she told them anyway.
‘Jack’s off his training wheels.’ Kate pulled out her phone and brought up a photo of her second son.
‘He looks so grown up,’ Keri said.
‘I know, right? I remember the day he took his first step and now he’s six and riding his own bike.’ Kate scrolled to another photo. ‘Chloe, you have to see this one.’
‘Lovely,’ Chloe said faintly. Chester’s photo was supposed to be her weapon against this sort of thing but instead the cuteness of the puppy seemed to be reminding everyone else that their children were cute too.
‘You okay, Chloe?’ Keri asked
She renewed her smile, putting extra wattage into it. ‘Fine, why?’
‘You’re shredding the rim of your cup.’
‘I must need more champagne, then.’ She picked up the bottle and sloshed in more of the straw-coloured liquid before gulping it down.
Kate held out her cup for a refill. ‘What are your plans for tonight?’
A walk along the beach with Chester, followed by take-out Indian and then tucking up in bed and watching all four hours of North and South. Only Kate, who was married with young kids and had rose-coloured memories of being single, would be horrified at the thought. ‘I’m hitting The Bedroom with some friends.’ It wasn’t strictly a lie.
Kate’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, I remember nightclubs. Good for you, Chloe.’
‘I bet Nick and Lucy have plans to spoil you,’ Keri said as she started to tidy up the remains of the food.
She thought of her wonderful and loving brother, who’d been her sole supporter since she was sixteen. They’d been through a huge amount together and their joint determination to succeed had kept the other going during the tougher times.
Nick’s recent marriage was wonderful and she’d been thrilled he’d found such a supportive life partner in Lucy but, as expected, the wedding and the arrival of the twins had changed things between them. His focus was now on his wife and children, not his sister, which was right and proper—and as much as she loved the twins she found it excruciatingly hard to be around them. All of it meant there were times she missed Nick very much.
‘Nick organised for Café Sunset to open at six and we ate breakfast watching the sunrise—’
‘Sorry to interrupt the party.’
Chloe swung around at the deep and slightly disdainful voice that didn’t sound sorry at all.
‘Luke?’ Keri squealed with delight, and rushed forward, hugging him hard.
His body stiffened and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was seeking a way to endure the affection.
Chloe blinked and then gave her glasses a surreptitious polish and took another look. Was this gaunt man with a spray of silver at his temples really Luke Stanley? The eminent plastic surgeon who was known for his good humour and easygoing manner? She scanned her memory, barely recognising him.
She didn’t know him personally—in fact she’d only ever had one brief encounter with him and that had been well over a year ago. Just thinking about it made her cheeks burn with embarrassment. It had been her first day on the ward.
Due to her age, everyone had assumed she’d been nursing for years, but her education had been truncated at sixteen and it had taken her a few years to return to study. Graduating from university at twenty-eight had meant she’d had to work doubly hard to appear totally competent compared with the younger nurses for whom other staff members automatically made allowances on account of their youth and inexperience.
With that in mind, back on her first day she’d been busy concentrating on preparing a dressing pack by a patient’s bed, readying to check the skin edges, where his finger had been stitched back in place. As she had been mentally checking off all the items she required, she’d suddenly heard a deep and booming voice behind her saying, ‘Hello, Mr Benjamin.’
Startled, she’d swung around fast, completely forgetting she’d been holding an open container of iodine. The sudden movement had propelled the brown liquid out of the bottle, sending it flying up into the air where it had paused for a perilous moment—mocking her and her total lack of control over its trajectory. Gravity had pulled it down fast and it had landed on Mr Stanley, plastic surgeon, and, to all intents and purposes, her new boss.
As the indelible dark stain had oozed down his striped shirt, his crystal-clear green eyes had widened in surprise.
‘Oh, God, I’m s-so s-sorry,’ she stammered. ‘Of course I’ll replace it.’ Juggling this month’s bills to pay for what was probably a two-hundred-dollar shirt would involve robbing Peter to pay Paul—otherwise known as raiding her car fund yet again.
He raised his head—his neatly clipped and styled jet-black curls barely moving—and he smiled. ‘This is the third hit this shirt’s taken today. My wife frowns whenever I wear it as apparently it’s not my colour and I shouldn’t be trusted to shop alone,’ he said with good humour. ‘My baby daughter added her opinion by sicking up on