mean the whole package.’
Oops. Beth mentally slapped herself for putting together ‘impressive’ and ‘package’ in her imaginative mind.
A furrow appeared on her cousin’s brow. ‘I don’t like that gleam in your eye.’
‘What gleam?’
She tried her best innocent look and knew it came up lacking when Lana groaned and shook her head.
‘The gleam you get whenever any male under thirty-five and halfway good-looking enters your world.’
Tilting her nose in the air as if she didn’t give a damn, Beth said, ‘I have no idea of his age. From how tense he appears he’s probably ancient.’
‘And the good-looking part?’
Trust Lana not to back down. Damn it, she was like a dog with the proverbial bone. Or in this case, the curator with a dinosaur bone.
‘He’s not bad for an uptight older dude who likes fossicking for boring old artefacts.’
Lana laughed, the sound echoing around her quaint single- storey weatherboard in one of Carlton’s quieter streets.
‘I’m on to you.’ Lana’s laugh grew to belly-shaking proportions. ‘Your version of not bad equates with sex god. So he’s that good?’
Beth nodded, joining in the laughter. ‘Better. Honestly, you should see this guy. Tall, great bod, killer smile, fabulous eyes. A knockout.’
‘Don’t forget the brain behind the package.’
Lana’s not-so-subtle emphasis on the last word had them in fits.
‘You’ll see him soon enough.’
‘If I don’t hack this leg off in frustration over the next few months, that is.’
Her cousin’s laughter petered out so Beth did the only thing possible, the one thing she’d done her whole life to cope when faced with uncomfortable circumstances; made light of the situation.
‘And miss out on seeing Voss the Boss in the flesh? Not likely.’
Lana cringed. ‘You know you just called one of the most influential men in archaeological circles Voss the Boss? Just make sure that little gem stays between us.’
‘You got it.’ She leaned forward, tapped the side of her nose and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Now, would you like me to bat my eyelashes at him to get on his good side? You know, to keep the Walker girls in favour with the boss.’
‘Don’t you dare!’
Lana’s eyes widened in horror behind her tortoiseshell glasses and Beth chuckled.
‘Don’t worry, cuz. I have no intention of flirting with the boss.’
However, she had to resist the urge to squirm under her cousin’s speculative glance as she quickly pushed aside the thought she already had.
Beth ignored the wolf-whistle of a passer-by as she strolled down Lygon Street on her way to meet Bobby, her friend— and date for the evening.
Not that catching up for a drink with Bobby was a date exactly. In fact, the thought of seeing the lanky, red-headed drummer as anything other than friend material brought a smile to her face.
So she’d dressed up? No big deal. She’d needed to slip into her favourite black mini and shimmery aubergine top to feel halfway normal again after spending all day in a suit, stylish as it was.
As she passed her favourite gelateria and studiously avoided looking in the window to stop from drooling all over her top, her mobile rang and she scrambled in her bag, hoping Bobby wasn’t standing her up. She was really looking forward to a drink, some light-hearted conversation and the inevitable laughs that spending an evening with a good mate entailed.
It had been way too long since she’d had a good night out; she, the party girl of Melbourne, had spent too many evenings lately holed up in Lana’s place, swotting up on the museum. Bor-ing. Time to live a little, just as she used to.
Staring at the caller ID and not recognising the number, she hit the answer button. ‘Beth Walker.’
‘Hello, Beth. Aidan Voss here.’
She stumbled and would’ve sprawled onto the nearest café table if a kind waiter, with the deepest chocolate-brown eyes she’d ever seen, hadn’t reached out to steady her.
Mouthing ‘thanks’ at the waiter, whose wink had her beaming back at him, she continued walking while furiously trying to think up something fabulously witty to say, anything other than, ‘What do you want?’
‘Sorry to ring you after hours but I need to see you.’
Great, he needed to see her. Some first impression she must’ve made.
Unbidden, the memory of the way he’d looked at her that morning sprung to mind and she wondered if the sizzle of something between them wasn’t just a figment of her imagination.
‘I can come in early first thing tomorrow,’ she said, banishing her ludicrous thoughts and trying to keep her tone businesslike.
‘I need to see you now.’
‘Oh.’
Damn, that one tiny syllable came out on a sigh and she quickly reassembled her wits.
‘Sorry, no can do. I have other plans.’
‘This isn’t a request, it’s an order.’
His silky-smooth voice did little to disguise the thread of steel beneath. Here was a guy used to making people jump, people who probably asked how high.
‘I’m meeting someone,’ she blurted, gnawing at her bottom lip the instant the words left her mouth, realising how stupid it sounded as an excuse. As if high and mighty Aidan Voss would care if she had a date or not.
‘Far be it from me to disrupt your love life, but this is important and it can’t wait till morning.’
‘Bobby’s just an old friend,’ she said, refraining from slapping her head, just, as another corker popped out of her mouth without her thinking.
Damn it, what was it about this guy that rattled her so much? She usually handled guys with finesse, flirting with them while keeping them at arm’s length, using quips and witty repartee rather than blurting the first thing that came into her head.
‘I’m glad.’
He paused and for one insane second she hoped he might be glad she wasn’t on a real date—before realising why the heck would he care? She was just an employee, a lousy one at that if his unimpressed tone and his order to see her immediately was any indication.
‘That means you can take a rain check and Bobby won’t be disappointed.
