Page 152 of Just Watch Me
The assistant—male, suave, and extremely well-tailored—looked Zane over in a French sort of way and said, “There are benches along the road, sir.”
Zane said, “Oh. Right.” He pulled out his wallet and put an American Express Platinum card on the counter. “I came in to buy my partner a wee gift, and here she is to choose it. But we need a minute or two first, as she’s crying.”
The assistant looked at the card, then at Zane. Zane picked up the card again, stowed it away, sighed, and said, “Rough as guts, I know. I’m here for the rugby. With the All Blacks. Does that get us a couple of chairs?”
The man still looked dubious, but he said, “Come with me, please,” and took them into a second showroom, where he told another man, “The gentleman would like a minute to rest with the lady before purchasing.”
“Yeh,” Zane said. “I would. I reckon this is where you hide the good stuff. Got some nice things back here, though.”
The second man looked pained, but waved them into seats. He also brought out two small water bottles and handed them over.
“Cheers,” Zane said, twisted the top off one, and gave it to Skylar. “We’ll be ready in two ticks.”
“Stop it.” Skylar was trying not to giggle. It wasn’t quite working. “Are youtryingto sound like a sheep farmer?”
“Apparently,” Zane said, “as the comparison’s already been made. I’m bloody glad to see you. You OK, though? Kids OK? What’s wrong?”
She waved a hand. She was halfway between crying and laughing. She was also a bit lightheaded. “The kids are fine. They’ve got themselves into a bit of grief defending your honor, though. Both ScarlettandFinlay.”
“What?” He was blinking.
“The media? The injury? And you know what kids that age are like. Scarlett laid into three of them, and Finlay dove in to help. He has a black eye and Scarlett got a bloody nose, but they’re pretty proud of themselves.Andpicking up rubbish in the schoolyard all week for their sins. But how are you? That’s what I came for. I couldn’t help it. I know you’d have said not to, but I just?—”
She couldn’t say any more, because he’d grabbed her and was kissing her again, and her hands were on his face, his shoulders. Trying to hold him tighter, to hold him better, as he was doing the same thing. “I’m bloody glad you’re here,” he said. “And stop looking at that bloke. We’re going to spend money, no worries.”
“I wasn’t—” she began, then didn’t know how to go on. “I’ve felt like such a fool for at least half the journey. I was afraid you’d be angry, that you wouldn’t understand. I know you need to … to process things yourself first before you share them with me. If I hadn’t, Granddad’s put me right, no worries. I know that you don’t always want to talk things over in the way I do. But don’t you see how much it hurts me toknowyou’re hurting and not to be able to talk to you? Not to know whether you’re even OK?” She was searching his craggy, lined face now. He had a bruise on his forehead andanother on his cheekbone, and nobody had ever looked better. “How are you? Really?”
“Better,” he said. “Much. Smithson’s had his surgery, and he has the use of his arms and legs. Very nearly a miracle, or maybe just a miracle of training and discipline. He had a dislocation in his neck. The doctors said they’d had another like it just last week, and that bloke’s in a wheelchair and going to stay there. But Smithson’s got that bull neck. About as wide as his head, and his back’s the same. Doctors said all the muscle kept the bone from dislocating further. Held it in place, almost. He’ll have a road ahead of him, but he’s going to be walking down it, not rolling. Looks like he’ll even play again, if it goes as well as they hope. He’s bound and determined to, anyway.”
“That’s—that’s wonderful,” she said. “That’swonderful.But how do you know?”
“Went to see him in hospital. This afternoon, in fact. Why I had my phone off. He’s in one of those hard braces and will stay in it for at least a couple of months, but he’s good. They’re letting him out of hospital tomorrow or the next day, he says. You know he’s hoping it’s tomorrow. Nobody ever got their fitness back in a hospital bed.”
“I’m soglad.I wish I had better words to say how glad. And I’m sorry I pushed too hard on the phone. I rang you before you were even awake, and then I pushed too hard. And I just didn’t—” Her eyes had filled with tears again. “I thought—what if he needs me, and I’m not there? I could at leastbethere, even if he—even ifyoudon’t want me. I could at least be here in case.”
“I’ve never been gladder to see anyone,” he said. “I was waiting until you’d be awake so I could ring you. Apology, eh. Sometimes, texts aren’t nearly good enough.”
“Yes.Yes.And I have to go home tomorrow. I know you’re training and you can’t spend time with me after today, andthat’s OK. It seemed I had this one grand gesture in me, though, and I had to make it.”
“Well, good,” he said. “Because I have to make one too. Let’s look at pendants, since we’re here. I think I’ve found the right one, but it needs approval from the wearer. After that, we’ll go get you a hotel room. A bath and dinner, what d’you reckon?”
“Definitely. A bath, dinner, and bed. I could fall asleep on you again, fair warning. But I’ll wake up again. Because, oh, Zane. I’ve missed you so much. And I love you.”
“At least wait to say that until I’ve bought you this thing,” he said. “Because I love the shit out of you, Skylar Fairburn.”
“And I’m head over heels for you,” she said.
“Which would’ve been a much better way to put it. Oh, well. If I have my way, you’ll have plenty of time to put me right.”
“Because I’m a Year One teacher,” she said, smiling foolishly. “And used to boys.”
In answer, he kissed her again.
A man of few words, but she’d take him. Every time.
57
YOURS, MINE, AND OURS
