Page 79 of Rafferty's Rules
‘The tip of the iceberg, babe.’ I send her a cheeky wink, and she flops dramatically onto her back, the length of her body exposed to me. All that creamy skin and dark hair. Her toenails are painted a dusky pink that reminds me of places no one else has been.
‘You’re trying to kill me, I’m sure.’
‘No one ever expired from dirty talk, Lis.’
Suddenly, she lifts up her head, peering at me through the tangle of her hair. ‘Have you seen this scar?’ she asks, touching the centre of her chest. ‘My heart is a fragile thing.’
My blood turns cold but before I can seek her reassurance, or ask herwhat the fuck, she arches her back, pulling out a shirt from under her butt, a shirt that used to be blue.
‘Whatisthis?’ Half sitting now, she pulls on the duvet with one hand to cover herself but it’s trapped under my weight, and I’m not moving so she can hide. She gives up with a frown, beginning to shake the shirt out. ‘And what’s all this white dust?’ True enough, as she shakes it, white clouds of powdered plaster billow out.
‘That’s mine.’ Against my better instincts, I smile. I find it’s pretty impossible to worry about a collapsed ceiling when there’s a naked Lissa in my bed.
‘I know. You were wearing it this morning, but what is all this... stuff?’
Reaching over her, I take it from her hands and throw it to the floor. ‘It’ll wash.’
‘Okay, so don’t tell me. I’ll just guess. You were at a coke bust thatliterallywent bust.’
‘Worst guess ever. And if it was coke, I’d have had an amazing contact high and would’ve probably behaved much nicer at the bar.’
‘Hmm. No comment. So, what was it?’ she asks, serious now.
‘I bought an old building a little while back, a church, actually.’ I stretch out across the bed, my feet hanging off the edge, my hands folded under the pillow. ‘It’s deconsecrated, obviously.’
‘How cool.’ The way she watches me avidly, it’s hard to tell whether she’s talking about the church or my body, which doesn’t feel very cool, let me tell you. It feels hot. Hot for the way she’s looking. Hot for her.
‘Yeah. I mentioned I was in property development, but the truth is, it’s a pretty new thing for me. I’ve spent some time this year living in London and shadowing my brother, Flynn, who’s doing all kinds of cool shit over there. When I met you that night?’ In a brothel, I feel I don’t need to qualify. ‘I was just off a flight from Dubai. I’d gone to a meeting there for him.’
‘That’s pretty cool.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Bloody Flynn. Just because he couldn’t be arsed to fly out himself, making out like I could just pop in.It’s on the flightpath, he’d said.Go on, fuck face, do me a favour.
So like a mug, I did. But then again, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been in Dubai, and my flight wouldn’t have been delayed, then I wouldn’t have been late, and I’d have missed meeting Lis.
And Christ only knows what would’ve happened to her.Not gonna think about it.
‘Flynn mostly does new projects, but I want to redevelop old buildings.’
‘You mean, like this place.’ I nod as she adds, ‘this is a beautiful home.’
‘It will be, eventually,’ I reply, glancing around the room. As will the other two houses I bought in the same street. Regentrification of homes that were previously social housing, smack-bang in the middle of one of the most desirable areas of the city, and offloaded for millions by the local council.
‘All it's lacking is furniture,’ she adds, her tone teasing, but I’m not touchingthat. ‘But what has your dusty shirt got to do with the church?’
‘The roof caved in,’ I answer baldly. ‘And now my timeline is fucked.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Rafferty.’ And she genuinely sounds it.
‘Which has given me another idea.’
‘This butt does not look good in overalls.’
‘Relax, I wasn’t thinking about putting you to work. But I wondered if you’d like to head out to the Hunter Valley tomorrow with me because I’m pretty much at your disposal from now on. Unless you have heaps of stuff you want to do in Sydney, I thought we could head there, do some touristy shit, go to the wedding on Saturday, get you back for Sunday and your adventure could carry on from there. If you don’t want to, that’s fine,’ I hurriedly add.
‘No, I would love to. Who doesn’t like wine?’
‘Well, there’s also, unfortunately, my family.’
