Page 4 of Down Under


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Come to think of it, maybe that’s because her name has the word titty in it? And as far as tits go, she has the best fucking—

‘You’re doing it again.’ When I look up, Keir has this weird half-smirk on his face.

‘Have you got wind?’ I ask with an aggressive tip of my head. ‘It’s not like you to smile so much. That must be, what? Three times today?’ That’s not true. Keir is a solid bloke, as well as a good boss, but I shake my head in fake exasperation anyway. ‘It must be Paisley’s influence.’

‘My smile is a reflection of how good my life is.’

‘You’ve become an evangelist. Next thing we know, you’ll be banging on doors to spread the word.’

‘I don’t need to. See, I’m also smiling because of what I see in your face when I mention a certain blonde cinematographer. Looks like you’re about to be clued in.’

‘Clued in? Mate, stop talking in riddles.’

‘Flynn,’ he says, clearing his desk to clamp his hand on my shoulder. ‘Women are good news. Relationships are good news. Embrace it. And get your arse to my house tomorrow afternoon. Bring wine but not a date.’

‘It was just a thought,’ I say with a shrug. ‘My mate Sorch is all I need for entertainment.’

‘And do yourself a favour,’ he replies with an air of long suffering. ‘Don’t keep shortening my daughter’s name in front of Agnes. Or one of these days, you’ll get a nasty surprise. Most likely via delivery of her rolling pin.’

What is it with women threatening me with long or sharp objects lately? A question for the ages, though not one for Keir.

‘Nah, me and Agnes, we’re like that.’ I cross my middle finger over my index one, holding them between us so he can see. ‘Tight.’

‘Yeah, ’cause everyone loves Flynn.’

‘Too fucking right. And you especially.’

His hand slips from my shoulder as he makes for the door. ‘You keep tellin’ yourself that. And don’t forget to lock up when you leave. See you tomorrow.’

‘You do know it’s March, don’t you?’ I call after him. ‘It’s fucking freezing—not barbecue weather.’

Keir doesn’t turn. He’s adept enough to shoot me the bird without breaking his stride, multitasker that he is.