Show My What You Got Page 7

  “I guess.” Her frown hadn’t disappeared, but the look in her eyes changed. She was worried instead of flat out confused now. “Did you accept his apology?”

  Dragging in a deep breath, I rolled my lips into my mouth and released them with a soft pop. “I did. Conditionally anyway. I’ve made it clear to him that I didn’t appreciate his behaviour and that there are certain things I won’t stand for.”

  Bonnie chewed on the inside of her cheek. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay with working for him? He was pretty awful to us the other day.”

  I waved my hand, but I wasn’t feeling quite as dismissive about it as the gesture might have indicated. “He won’t be the first arsehole I’ve had to put up with for a few weeks and he won’t be the last. Besides, he’s going to pay double what we would usually charge and he’s going to take care of all our expenses. It wasn’t like I could really turn him down.”

  “I bet that was exactly what he was aiming for.”

  “I know.” It wasn’t necessarily my proudest moment, having to take this job. But there were much worse things in life. “He’s obviously used to getting what he wants, and with the amount of money he has to throw around, I’m not surprised that he usually gets it.”

  “Oh, to be rich.” A slow smile spread on her lips. “Those people definitely live by a different set of rules than the rest of us.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, but I’d still rather be us than one of them. At least we aren’t arseholes.”

  “We’re not always arseholes,” she corrected with a wink. “If I remember correctly, you were called an arsehole by the guy at the fish market just last week.”

  “It’s not my fault his prices were so much higher than everyone else’s. One would imagine he’d have appreciated having that pointed out to him.”

  “He didn’t,” she said, amusement lighting her green eyes. “But I see your point. We’re generally nice people. Archer doesn’t seem to be the same way.”

  “He was better the last two times I saw him,” I admitted. “I think he can be nice but has to want to be. It’s not his default setting.”

  “That’s kind of sad.” She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t imagine being that miserable of a person. I like smiling, and being nice to people, and just being happy.”

  I raised my water glass to clink it against hers. “Amen to that. The man may have buckets of money, but he certainly doesn’t seem to be happy.”

  She pursed her lips, then made a sudden dive for her handbag. She pulled out a tabloid magazine—because she hated getting her news online—and showed me the front page. Right there smirking at me in all his gorgeous glory was my newest client.

  “Isn’t it weird that he’s a billionaire, has been named one of the most eligible bachelors in the city, and he still isn’t happy?” she asked, opening the magazine to an article about Archer and turning it so I could read it too. “You’d think he has everything he could possibly want. Surely, that should be enough to make anyone over the moon all the time.”

  “Maybe he is happy.” I shrugged. “Maybe he just has a really weird way of showing it. Or maybe we’re completely wrong and this is the way he is when he’s really happy.”

  I didn’t have any interest in reading the article she’d shown me, so I picked the magazine up and closed it before giving it back to her. “Either way, the only part of his happiness that concerns us is whether he’s happy with the party we’re going to plan. That’s it.”

  She took the magazine and held it up to gaze adoringly at his picture on the front. “He is hot though, isn’t he? And he’s the CEO of a super successful company. I wonder how it even happened that he’s still a bachelor.”

  “It’s probably because he has to open his mouth to talk in order to change that status,” I joked, but I also wasn’t really joking.

  Bonnie’s green eyes flashed in surprise. Then her head rolled back as she laughed. “That is an excellent point. He’s not the most charming man that has ever walked the earth, is he?”

  He could be charming, though. I’d experienced it firsthand and she’d told me she’d read it too. It might not have been his go-to state of being, but more than once at our last two meetings, I’d found myself not hating every second I spent with him.

  I didn’t mention it to Bonnie, though. It wasn’t like it meant anything and I really didn’t want to have her teasing me about a crush I didn’t even have for the next five to six weeks. I’d simply seen that he did have another side to him, one that wasn’t quite as awful as the one he’d shown us on that first day.

  “No, there have been more charming men to grace the planet,” I agreed, deciding to steer the conversation in a different direction. Whoever Archer Lee really was, whoever he may be off the clock or behind closed doors had nothing to do with us. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was charming and fun and who knew what else, but it wasn’t like speculating about it would get us anywhere. “I forgot to tell you, I started watching that show you told me about the other day. You were right, it does get better. I think I’m addicted.”

  Bonnie grinned when she realised what show I was talking about and jumped right into finding out what my thoughts were on some of the characters and the situations they got themselves into. Thankfully, she let the Archer thing go and the rest of our lunch was spent psychoanalysing fictional characters instead of a very real person.

  We paid for our sandwiches when we were done and were just getting up from the table when my phone rang. Bonnie caught a glimpse of our boss’s name on the screen, exchanging a look with me before I answered. “Are we late?”

  “No.” I checked the time again. “It must be something else.”

  I slid my finger across the bar and pressed the phone to my ear. “Hey, Bryan. Bonnie and I are on our way back from our lunch break now. What’s up?”

  “Did you close the deal with Archer Lee?” he asked, but he sounded distracted.

  “Yes. I agreed to do his party.”

  “Good,” he replied. “I’m glad. It’s a big account for us. A referral from him could mean big things for you in the future. He’s well connected.”

  “Yeah, so I’ve heard.” I clutched the phone harder as I wondered what he was really calling about. “I did send you an email to update you on the client. Is everything okay? You sound a little stressed.”

  He let out a long sigh. “Everything is fine, but I’m afraid you might not think so.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” I frowned. I was squeezing the phone so hard by now that my knuckles were starting to hurt.

  “I know you were going to have this weekend off, but there’s a rugby match tomorrow, and I need you to go. It’s a great promotional opportunity for us, and we’ve already bought the ticket, but Adam was going to cover it, and he’s just called in a sickie.”

  “It’s no problem,” I said, relief coursing through my veins that it wasn’t anything worse. “I’ll be there. I’ll get the ticket from you when we get back to the office.”

  “Thank you, Heidi. You’re an angel. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

  When I hung up the phone, Bonnie grimaced at me. “He wants you to work tomorrow?”

  I nodded. “Promoting the company at a rugby match. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Hell no,” she said emphatically. “You should have told him to shove it.”

  “What’s another Saturday working?” I lifted my shoulders as I slung my handbag across one. “I knew what I was getting into when I decided to go into this industry.”

  “Maybe, but I have no desire to work on a Saturday if I don’t have to,” she said. “Enjoy the match. Do you even watch rugby?”

  “No, but I won’t be watching. I’ll be working.” It was the story of my life, and I honestly couldn’t say that I minded it.

  Chapter 11

  Archer

  “Are you guys ready to go?” Hugo asked when I opened our front door for him on Saturday morning.

  I couldn
’t help but grin when I took a good look at him in all his game-day glory. His face had been painted in the green and gold colours of the Australian national team. He also wore his rugby jersey with his jeans, a team flag hanging from his back pocket.

  Hugo was a diehard fan, and he looked it. “We’re ready when you are.”

  His denim-blue eyes slid away from mine to take in my outfit. “No, you’re not. Good thing I came prepared.”

  A mischievous smirk crept up on his lips. Then he swung around and jogged back to his car. He opened the door and came back a second later clutching another jersey. “It’s an old one and it’s a bit snug on me now so it should fit you all right, but it’s better than nothing.”

  He shoved it against my chest when he reached the door again, then brushed past me into the house. Lighting up when he saw Millie in her own kit, a tiny rugby jersey I’d bought for her yesterday hanging almost to her knees, he opened his arms.

  “There’s my favourite girl. At least you’re showing more supporter spirit than the old man. Come give me a hug.”

  Millie smiled, giving him a twirl to show off her brand-new jersey before throwing her arms around his neck. “Do you like it? Daddy and I went shopping yesterday.”

  Hugo shot me a look over her shoulder. “I see Daddy didn’t get himself one, too.”

  “Daddy didn’t really see the point in buying himself one when he’s not planning on going to another game for a while, but I thought it would be fun for Millie to have one.” I held up the shirt he’d handed over. “But I can be a good sport. Let me go put this on. Then we can go.”

  Hugo threw his fists into the air with a victorious whoop and Millie followed suit. I laughed but rolled my eyes as I went to change.

  When I came back out, Hugo was on his haunches and Millie was studying his face. She twisted at the waist to face me, a pleading look in her eyes. “I want my face painted too. Can Hugo please put some on for me? Pleeeassse?”

  My best friend pushed to his feet, motioning towards the front door. “I have my kit in the car. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  I glanced between the two of them, seeing how much it would mean to them and shrugged. “Sure, if you want. It’s not me who’s going to be upset if we miss kick off.”

  “We won’t,” Hugo assured me, his expression growing fierce. “We’ll be there to see every second of those Baabaa’s getting their bums kicked.”

  Millie wrinkled her nose. “Uncle Hugo said bums.”

  “He did.” I was only glad he hadn’t phrased the sentiment in one of the numerous ways I knew he’d have preferred to. Hugo was good about watching his language in front of Millie, though. “But he’s a grownup, so he’s allowed to.”

  “Bum isn’t a bad word,” he argued. “It’s a body part.”

  “Let’s not get into this right now, shall we?” I arched a brow at Millie. “Do you still want your face painted? Because if you do, we should probably get started.”

  “Yes,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands and bouncing on the balls of her sneaker-clad feet. “I’ll walk with you to get your paint.”

  Hugo inclined his head, then slung his arm across her shoulders as they walked out. I only caught a snippet of what he said to her before they disappeared through the door. “You’re going to witness an epic clash this afternoon. We’ve played the Barbarians twelve times and we’ve won nine of those matches. We’re going to crush them.”

  Chuckling softly to myself, I shook my head and waited for them to come back. When they did, Hugo was explaining some of the finer points of the game to her, and to my surprise, my daughter was listening with rapt attention.

  “Let’s go do this in the kitchen,” I said, already beginning to lead the way. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Not right now,” Hugo replied as they followed me. “Face painting is serious business and I’m going to need both hands.”

  I laughed again. “Fair enough.”

  When we walked into the kitchen, I lifted Millie onto the counter where Hugo wouldn’t have to bend over for however long it would take to paint her face. I took the stool beside the one he would be on.

  “How are your plans for New Year’s Eve going?” he asked once he sat down and opened his kit. “Did you manage to lock in that party planner we talked about?”

  Millie sat still on the counter and closed her eyes when Hugo dabbed his paintbrush in a glass of water he’d filled before sitting down. She rolled her lips into her mouth too, waiting for him to get started.

  I smiled at her but felt it falter when I thought back to my last two meetings with Heidi. “I locked her in, yeah. We’ve talked a little about what I want, and I think we’re on the same page, but I’m taking your advice and letting her do her job.”

  “Really?” His brows lifted, but his eyes were focused on the brush strokes he was making on Millie’s smooth skin. “I mean, it was awesome advice as always. I just don’t know that I was really expecting you to follow it.”

  “You made some points I couldn’t get away from.” I sighed, running a hand along the stubble on my jaw. I hadn’t shaved this morning, but I didn’t think it would matter since the team playing us wouldn’t be the only Barbarians present. “Anyway, once we got the air cleared, we managed to work together okay. I think she’s going to do well with the event. She certainly seemed to catch on to what I wanted quickly.”

  “I’m happy to hear you changed your mind about your approach. I’m looking forward to the party. I know the official invite isn’t out yet, but word is spreading around the office and people are getting stoked.”

  “They should be. It’s going to be one for the books.” However that was going to work out with the children present. I was still excited about having Millie with me, but I wasn’t sure how we were going to balance my expectation of it being the biggest party of the year with having to ensure it would be child-friendly. “Heidi is working on the details. I should have the first plans early next week.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything you need from my team,” he said. “Maintenance should be pretty useful to help you with whatever you need before you start setting up.”

  “I thought you said you only wanted to be a guest?”

  A sly smile spread on his lips as he continued working. “Yeah, but we can help just a little bit, too.”

  Hugo and I discussed a few finer points about electricity and the like on the roof, and soon he was done painting Millie’s face. Closing his kit with a snap of the plastic lid, he grinned. “You look gorgeous.”

  I groaned, but I smiled too. “It’s going to be difficult to get that off without getting it on your hair and your clothes. Let’s hope it doesn’t stain your skin. You might look a bit like a swamp-thing tomorrow.”

  “It won’t stain,” Hugo said. “I bought the good sh—stuff. Don’t worry, little one. You won’t look like the swamp-thing.”

  Millie’s eyes were bright against the paint, a wide smile spreading on her sweet face. “I wouldn’t mind. It will still be worth it.”

  Hugo offered up his palm for a high five and Millie smacked it enthusiastically. “Now, are you ready to go? If we leave now, we might even have time to grab some drinks after we find our seats.”

  “Let’s go then,” I said, patting my pockets to make sure I had my wallet, phone, and keys. When I was satisfied that all the lumps were in the right places, I jerked my head to the door. “We can take my vehicle. That way we won’t have to waste time moving Millie’s seat into yours.”

  “You got it,” Hugo agreed. He helped Millie off the counter and the three of us headed towards the garage. Once everyone was strapped in, we were on our way.

  The stadium was as packed as ever. People were everywhere in the streets and having drinks next to their parked cars. More than a few even had their barbies going, cooking a quick snack on the flames before it was time to head inside.

  The atmosphere was magical, with rugby songs being sung, the pre-match build-up
blaring from various radios, and some people chanting war cries. Smoke coming off the fires tinged the air with the smoky smell of cooking meat and spices while the generally wild and crazy fanbase formed a sea of green and gold between the parking areas and the stadium itself.

  A much smaller percentage of people were wearing the black and white colours of the Barbarians, their faces also painted and flags flying high. There were a few scuffles between the supporters here and there, but Hugo and I kept Millie between us after getting out of the SUV, and we made it to the stadium unscathed.

  “Will you pick me up, Daddy?” Millie asked when we joined the crowd just inside the gates having their tickets checked.

  It was so thick here that I couldn’t even see into the stadium though we were right outside the entrance. And I was tall. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like for her to be surrounded by so many bodies.

  Either way, I didn’t mind picking her up. It wouldn’t be long now until she stopped asking and my heart always clenched uncomfortably at the thought. “Sure thing, love bug. Come on.”

  She held her arms up in the same way she had since she was just learning to walk and I practically felt my insides turning to mush in a way no one else could manage to make me feel. Hell, no doubt most people were of the opinion that I didn’t feel at all.

  I picked her up and lifted her higher, planting her firmly on my shoulders so she would be able to see above the fray. She let out a happy little squeal and I tightened my hold on her calves. “You okay up there?”

  “Yes, it’s so much better. I can see so many people.” I heard the smile in her voice as we were shuffled with the crowd. It occurred to me then that regardless of how much I wasn’t particularly excited for the match, I was glad we’d come.

  After a few more minutes of waiting, our tickets were checked and we walked into the stadium. Hugo pointed to a spot near the halfway line and only a couple of rows from the field. “Our seats are over there.”

  “Wow, those have to be some of the best seats in the house.” While I wasn’t the greatest fan of the game, the excitement in the stadium was getting to even me. “Thank you for inviting us.”