“Go for it.” She accepted the wine and followed Sophie back to the table.
“I’m glad to meet you,” Sophie said. “I only heard about you from Phyll this afternoon. It’s a pity you couldn’t make the meeting.” She cut a piece of sausage and put it in her mouth.
“I had an emergency repair to do some kilometres away. I knew about the meeting, of course, but I didn’t have your number.”
Sophie’s grey eyes sliced right through her. “You could have got it from Kirra or Phyll. It would have saved you a trip.”
Tarryn shifted from foot to foot. Sophie hadn’t suggested she sit, but she’d be damned if she would stand like a pupil in the principal’s office. She pushed the file aside and sat opposite. “I’ll put your number in my phone now.” She pulled it out, opened the contacts, and stared at Sophie with one eyebrow arched.
Sophie recited her number, then took a sip of wine. “So, have you done anything like this before?”
Tarryn sent a text and heard the ping of a mobile as it was received. “I’ve never done anything like this before, but I know my way around an office and have local contacts. Something you’ll need. I was told you just wanted someone to run around and do the grunt work.”
“Mm, yes. Is that what you’re good at?”
Was that a smothered grin? Her stomach jumped in irritation—or was it hunger? Was Sophie implying she was some knuckle-dragging gorilla with muscles and not much else? “I’m a qualified welder, but most of my business is metal art. If you count that as grunt work, then the answer’s yes. If you want me to fold napkins into the shape of swans and ice cupcakes to look like vaginas, then you better find someone else.”
Sophie shot her a startled look. “Hey, I’m not trying to put you down. I’m just trying to get to know you better. You were highly recommended, you know.”
Maybe she’d been a bit too quick on the draw. She lifted a shoulder. “That’s okay. I’m sorry if I came across as cranky. I’ve had a long day but thought I better come and see you before finishing up.” On cue, her stomach gave a loud gurgle. “Or having dinner.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “That sounded like a drain. I didn’t realise you hadn’t eaten.” She hesitated. “There’s a couple more snags on the pan, salad and coleslaw in the fridge. You’re welcome to them.”
Tarryn considered. It was a kind gesture, but would this Sydneysider think it too informal for what was basically a meeting with her boss? Screw it. She was hungry, and her chances of getting that bag of cheese-and-onion chips anytime in the next hour were remote. “I was going to forage in my pantry for junk food.”
“Plates are over there,” Sophie gestured with her head. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” She went to do that, watching Sophie out the corner of her eye. She ate heartily, as if she, too, was hungry, rather than because it was dinnertime.
For a few minutes, there was only the sound of scraping cutlery and food being devoured. The simple meal warmed and filled her. Tarryn put down her cutlery with a sigh. “Thank you. I needed that.”
Sophie took the plates over to the counter then gestured to the couch. “Take a seat, I’d like to hear your thoughts on the festival. You must be very enthusiastic about it, to have taken this job.”
Enthusiastic? Yeah, right. As excited as a vegetarian at a meat-tray raffle.
Tarryn sat at one end of the couch and waited for Sophie to join her.
“So?” Sophie cocked her head. “What do you see this festival achieving?”
Achieving?This was starting to sound like the job interviews she’d bailed from when she was a teenager.Tell me where you see yourself in ten years. What is your greatest flaw?
She shrugged. “It’s a money-making exercise to bring business to the town. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Sophie blinked. “That’s it? No heart-tugging speeches about love is love, or giving couples the wedding of their dreams?”
“No. If people want to marry, they’ll find a way to do it. It’s irrelevant to me.”
“Oh…kay.” Sophie drew the syllables out as if giving herself time to think. “I didn’t expect that. Everyone else is caught up in the love and romance of it all. So you’re not a fan of marriage. What about marriage equality? If you’re someone who thinks marriage is between a man and a woman, then we could have a problem.”
Tarryn’s laugh came from her belly and bubbled up her throat. “Really? Do you have no gaydar at all? I know you’re queer—it was part of the reason we went with you. Look at me.” She indicated her haircut, the leather cord around her neck holding the metal spiral against her throat, the gender-neutral clothing. “People can marry whomever they want. Why would I not want my friends to do what makes them happy? Even though I think it’s a waste of time and money, I’m still happy for them.”
A pink flush coloured the pale skin on Sophie’s cheeks. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry. That was a stupid comment.” Her mouth turned down. “And my gaydar’s always been a bit iffy.”
“It’s not iffy if you didn’t ping me, it’s outright broken.” She tilted her head and considered Sophie, her gaze sweeping from the top of her messy hair down to her fleecy boots.Nice. She pushed that thought aside as quickly as it had arrived and tapped a finger against her lips. “You, though… There’s nothing wrong with my gaydar. You’re queer as a coot.”
The flush deepened, and Sophie fiddled with the hem of her T-shirt, not meeting Tarryn’s eyes. “You already knew that. No gaydar needed.”
“Still. It’s relevant. The more gay people involved in this the better.” Tarryn waved a hand. She caught the flash in Sophie’s eyes. Maybe Sophie thought she was being overly familiar. She gave a mental shrug. That wasn’t her problem; she was hired to do a job alongside people who were mostly volunteers. Sophie would have to get used to informality and plain speaking. Quandong was no Sydney boardroom, or whatever she was used to.
