‘Oh. Well, I could come with you to that,’ she said. She was keen to meet some of the other people in his life.
‘No one’s taking partners.’
‘Oh.’ She couldn’t help feeling deflated. ‘Well, maybe one weekend we can have a few of your work friends over for a barbecue or something?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘But … why?’
‘I told you, I don’t like to socialise with colleagues in my private time.’
‘But I don’t know anyone here, other than the people I work with. I just thought it might be nice to meet some new people.’
‘They aren’t your kind of people.’
Bel frowned.What on earth does that mean?
‘I think I’ll go back to sleep for a bit,’ he said. ‘Since you’ve got better things to do.’
‘It’s not better things to do. It’s work.’
‘I’ll see you tonight. Don’t wait up.’
He turned away and thumped his pillow into form before lying back down. She tried not to feel as though she’d been dismissed like some naughty child. She hated when they disagreed. It wasn’t often, but ever since she’d gotten her job, he’d been rather dismissive of it, showing no interest whatsoever when she tried to tell him about her day. She couldn’t lie—it hurt.
But … maybe he had a point? Maybe she should be using this opportunity to do something more. Only she wasn’t sure what that might be.
The author event went smoothly and they had a great turnout. Afterwards, when Alissa, who also worked at the bookshop, and Terry suggested going out for a late dinner with the author, Bel hesitated.
‘Well, Tate doesn’t really like me going out without him,’ she said, then winced. When she spoke the words out loud, they sounded strange.
‘Didn’t you say he was going to a work function?’ Alissa asked.
‘Yeah, he was,’ Bel said, then she decided.Why not?‘You’re right, he probably isn’t even going to be home until late. Sure, let’s go.’
They headed down to a small bar attached to a swanky hotel in one of the tourist hotspots and celebrated the night’s success. Fiona, the author, was a delight. Her books always flew off the shelves and it was exciting to listen to the conversation flowing about bookselling and writing and everything in between. Bel felt like she was really one of the team, and she loved every minute. At one point, Fiona mentioned the writers’ group she belonged to and their need for more editing services. ‘In my spare time, I freelance edit, but I’m turning people away every day. There’s just not enough quality services out there.’
‘Didn’t you say you did some proofreading, Bel?’ Alissa asked.
‘I’ve done a bit over the years with some of the romance writers I’ve met online,’ she said, but quickly added, ‘I haven’t done it professionally or anything. Mainly as a favour, here and there.’
‘Well, if you’re ever after any work, let me know. There’s plenty out there.’
Like she could addanotherthing onto her plate.
When she got home, Tate was still out and the apartment was silent. Her earlier high from an enjoyable day and fun night with new friends fizzled out.
She had everything she’d ever dreamed of—she lived in a beautiful city, in an apartment to die for, with a man who was everything she could ever hope for—yet it all felt kind of … unreal, and not in a good way. She couldn’t even put her finger on what it was that felt wrong. She’d tried a number of times to talk with Tate about her unease, but he kept brushing off her concerns, saying there was nothing wrong with the way they were. Only that could be part of the problem; she wasn’t sure exactlywhatthey were.
The attraction was still there, as strong as it had been in the beginning, but it was like they were running on the spot, not really going anywhere. She was no closer to understanding him or knowing him on any deeper level than when they first met.
She kicked off her shoes and headed for the shower.
The next day, they took a drive to a winery and had lunch in a trendy restaurant. Bel caught herself wishing that maybe for once they could have found a takeaway and had hamburgers. She’d been craving them for the last few days—an old-fashioned, cafe-style burger and chips. But Tate liked the finer things in life. Just like Jax did, she reminded herself. Maybe she hadn’t quite thought this whole thing through. A lifestyle you had no experience with was all well and good for a while, but Bel was beginning to suspect that, deep down, she wasn’t cut out for fancy food and getting dressed up all the time. It took her ages to do her hair and make-up whenever they went out. Not that she didn’t enjoy all the new experiences Tate was insisting she have, but there were times she really just wanted to pull on some comfy tracksuit pants and a big, loose shirt and eat a greasy hamburger.
Tate left for the mine site early Monday morning and Bel almost found herself breathing a sigh of relief. The acknowledgement literally made her stop in her tracks as she was walking to work. She shouldn’t be feeling this way. This was what she wanted. This was what she’d manifested.
Her mood lifted once she got to work. It was simply impossible to be sad when you were surrounded by books.
