Page 84 of Third Time’s a Charm

The vaguely hopeful look slides off his face, replaced with a quick flash of sadness before he gathers himself and a neutral expression appears.

“If that’s what you’d prefer.” He hesitates before reaching a hand across the table and taking one of mine in a loose grip. “But I don’t want any more misunderstandings between us. So I need to tell you I’m here for that conversation as soon as you’re ready. I know it’s new, and the way things are at the moment is complicated. That doesn’t change the fact that those days with you on the road were the happiest I’ve had in a very long time. So you let me know when the time’s right for you. Because even if I don’t get to stay in Australia, my heart’s not going anywhere.”

Oh, my.

Jasper’s not like Tate Brown. He’s not superficially charming. He’s not the kind of man to make empty promises. Or to wear his heart on his sleeve. Despite what we’ve been through in the past couple of days, I know I can let myself believe every word he just said.

Chapter Forty-Five

Jasper

Colin Farley is already at a table when Louise and I, closely followed by Ant, arrive at the bougie pub where Ben has arranged for us to meet his team.

Before we have a chance to fill Colin in on the developments of the afternoon, Ben Carter and his brother, Will, arrive.

Despite their friendly and casual demeanour, there’s no fluffing around with these guys, and it is immediately clear Ben has arrived with the intention to invest.

I order drinks and dinner for everyone while Ben quizzes Louise on the underlying assumptions in her proposal, which we emailed at his request this afternoon. Will and Colin debate the situation with the non-compete clauses in our employment contracts before we move on to the best way to tackle Tate Brown and the John Mackelden situation.

“Obviously, the first task is to ensure Louise and Jasper have legal rights to the idea. Which means neutralising Tate Brown and John Mackelden.” Will nicks a chip from his brother’s plate before his own meal arrives and takes charge of the conversation. “And we need to do it fast, before they have a chance to think. I’ll throw a contract together tomorrow morning. Colin, it’s your job to get them into a meeting room for us. I’ll need the morning to prepare, so say around two or three if possible? Don’t care what excuse you use, just get them there. Then Louise and I will ambush them.”

Colin nods like a good soldier given clear orders. “I’ll make sure the termination pay is disbursed beforehand, just in case.”

Louise looks alarmed. As well she might, given everything we now know.

“Yeah, that would be wise,” Will says.

“How are you thinking we’ll handle the meeting?” I ask, because it hasn’t escaped my notice that I haven’t been mentioned.

“Oh, no. Not you, Mike Tyson.” Will laughs. Obviously, he’s been briefed on my altercation with Tate. “You’ll stay well away. Apart from anything else, if Tate gets a whiff that you’re involved, there’s no telling what he might do. And based on the look on your face, I don’t trust you not to throw down again. We really don’t need to be dealing with an assault charge on top of everything else. This is about getting the best outcome for Louise, yes?”

He makes a good point. But the anxiety on Louise’s face unsettles me. She’s smart and strong, but head-on confrontation is not how she typically handles things.

I reach over and squeeze her hand.

“I’ll come with you as far as the wine bar across the road and wait there.”

“You’re in good hands with Will,” Ben says. “He might seem like a clown a lot of the time, but when it comes to legal shit, he’s a shark.”

From the gleeful way Will rubs his hands together, I get the impression he’s looking forward to the meeting. I’m disappointed. I would have loved to see their faces when those arseholes realise they’ve been outplayed. But if it gets the job done nice and clean, nothing else matters.

We’ve just finished dinner when a tall guy with tattoos and a man-bun saunters towards us, all loose limbs and a cocky grin.

“Josh. Thanks for coming.” Ant jumps out of his seat and they hug while Ben drags an empty chair from a nearby table.

“Sorry I couldn’t be here earlier. Had to take Harriet and Immy to swimming lessons. Getting those two out of the pool requires a block and tackle.” He drops onto the chair, denim-clad legs spread wide. The idea of this man taking children—his daughters, I presume, since nobody asks—to swimming lessons creates a little cognitive dissonance. He looks better suited to swinging his leg over a massive motorbike and roaring off down the road with a screech of tyres. But looks can be deceiving, as I soon discover.

“Yeah, Tilly’s the same. But trying to get Andy into the pool is a nightmare,” Ben says, sliding a glass of red wine across the table to Josh.

Will laughs. “You can’t blame him after he sank to the bottom that time.”

Suddenly, they’re all talking at once. Nudging shoulders. Leaning in. Laughing.

“He was told not to take his bubble off. But did he listen?”

“Right. You do recall he’s a Carter, don’t you?”

The whole table erupts in laughter.