“No! Please, Tarryn, that’s mostly wrong.”
“Mostly? It sounds all wrong to me. You were straight. And while it’s not for me to tell you how to identify, it’s not looking good.”
“I understand how you’re feeling. But although I identified as straight, while you’re the first woman I’ve slept with, you’re not the first woman I’ve kissed. I kissed a girl once, and I liked it. A lot.”
“You sound like a Katy Perry song. I suppose she wore cherry Chapstick, and you’re about to tell me your boyfriend didn’t mind.” If her voice was anymore biting, it would shred Allie’s skin.
“No. I liked it, but I didn’t seek out more of the same. Maybe I just needed the right person. Maybe I just needed you.” Could her voice be any quieter? She wasn’t even sure if Tarryn had heard the last part.
“So I’m the predatory lesbian who’s led you from the straight and narrow, and you expect me to be proud? Chuffed? Another notch on the bedpost? I’ve had other ‘straight’ women, and they’ve been wonderful. I’m sure at least a couple of them realised some truths about themselves too. But none of them were as much of a liar as you.” She smashed the mug down on the counter and stood. “I’m going, Allison. I’m so very sorry it ended like this, but I’m not sorry I found out exactly what your game was—yours and Sophie’s—before I made a fool of myself. For what it’s worth, I liked you a lot. And here’s your notch on the bedpost—I was going to ask you again to reconsider a long-distance relationship. See if we could have anything together.”
“We can still—”
“No!” Tarryn clenched her fist. “You played me for a fool. Worse, you and your sister played my town for idiots. It’s going to take a bit to get past all of that. I’m going home.”
Allie’s heart fractured and splintered into big, hurting pieces. So this was it. Sophie was right all along; she should never have said anything. She should have said a fond farewell, walked away, driven back to Sydney and tried to forget all about Tarryn, about Quandong. Then she’d leave with good memories, happy times, the feeling she’d done something good for the town. Not this. Not this sour taste, this bitter finish to her time here. “Will you tell Phyll? About who I am and why Sophie couldn’t be here?”
“What do you think?” Tarryn snapped. “Should I just keep silent and let her think you fart rainbows? That you’re the great event planner?”
“I understand.” Her misery was complete. Three weeks here and she was leaving Sophie’s business in a more perilous state than before she came.
“Do you? I get the impression you’d be happy if I just shut up and didn’t say anything.” Tarryn’s fist clenched on the leather thong at her throat. “Listen, Allison. I’m angry, yes, and I’m angry you’ve duped Quandong. But you did do a good job, and the festival was a success. But the final straw for me is you duped me about yourself. You weren’t honest with me. And you haven’t been honest with yourself.” Her expression eased a fraction. “For what it’s worth, I’m so sorry things ended this way. I hope you’re able to be true to yourself going forward.”
Allie stared. What could she possibly say in response? She wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t apologise—again. She nodded once and watched, her heart in pieces around her feet, as Tarryn picked up her things and went to the top of the stairs.
“Goodbye, Allie. Be happy.” She turned and clattered down the stairs. Her truck door slammed, and the engine started.
Allie wrapped her arms around her middle as if she could hold in the hurt and turned away from the window. Her fledgling feelings lay rejected on the floor. She couldn’t watch Tarryn drive away. Instead, she turned back to the room and set about finishing her packing.
* * *
She had to call Sophie.
Three hours out of Quandong, Allie pulled into a service station beside the Pacific Highway and picked up her phone. There was a text message notification. Maybe it was Sophie.
Maybe it was Tarryn, asking her to return.
Allie pushed her phone into her bag and swung out the car. She needed coffee and something to eat if she was to get back to Sydney that night. Whatever the text was, it would read better with coffee.
She found a quiet spot in the food court and settled with a coffee and a sandwich. Her churning stomach wouldn’t allow her more. She weighed her phone in her hand. The text had to be from Sophie or from Tarryn, and she didn’t know which would be the best option. She took a deep breath and swiped her phone open.
The text was from Sophie.
Hey, I know you’ve been busy after the festival “debriefing” with your assistant ;) so I haven’t bothered you, but I’m dying to know how it all ended up. When will you be back home? Love you. Soph xo. PS You kissing Tarryn was on the news. That’s how I know you’re busy. That was NOT a duty kiss. PPS I love you.
She set down the phone and picked up the coffee, pushing aside the sandwich. The coffee was lukewarm, but it was still warmer than her. That explained Sophie’s silence. She should be glad to hear from her sister—and she was. But the knot of misery tightened her abdominal muscles until the coffee churned alarmingly in her stomach. She couldn’t help wishing it had been from Tarryn.
Allie picked up the phone again and shot off a quick text to Sophie saying she’d be back in Sydney in a few hours and she’d catch up with her tomorrow. She put the phone down again and forced herself to unwrap the sandwich and take a bite. Her phone pinged with an incoming text, and she snatched it up.
Looking forward to it. Come for brekky. Early as you can make it. Can’t wait to hear how things went.
She sent a thumbs up. Her stomach rebelled again, and she rewrapped the sandwich to take with her.
Her life was in Sydney. Her sister, her friends, hopefully a new job. Maybe someone new to date.
Maybe a woman.
Chapter 25
