Free Max by C.J. Duggan Page A

me to reveal all.
    “No, she doesn’t fancy you, but I think she
fancies someone else.”
    “Really?”
    I shrugged. “She has a boyfriend,” I said,
hanging up the phone and peeling away from Adam to get back to work.
    “Is that all?” he called after me.
    “Yep,” I said, grabbing for a glass and
pouring myself a drink of Coke. That was more than enough.
     
    ***
     
    I stared at the phone, a troubled, confused expression no
doubt plastered across my face as Adam sidled up next to me.
    “How’d you go, any juicy goss? Does Melba need a bunion cut
off? Does the new girl have the hots for me?”
    I looked up at Adam who was waiting with good humour for me
to reveal all.
    “No, she doesn’t have the hots for you, but I think she has
for someone else.”
    “Oh, really?”
    I shrugged. “She has a boyfriend,” I said, hanging up the
phone and peeling away from Adam to get back to work.
    “Is that all?” he called after me.
    “Yep,” I said, grabbing for a glass and pouring myself a
drink of Coke.
    That was more than enough, I thought, as I skulled the
drink, wishing it contained something a little stronger than just the syrupy
fuzz and ice.
    “Well, bloody hell. That’s the last time I organise an
elaborate scheme like that,” said Adam, who was now pouring himself a glass.
    I lowered my now empty glass, affixing my deadpan stare on
him. “You pushed a button; hardly an elaborate scheme.”
    “Yeah, well, next time you can go into the snake pit then.”
Adam twisted on the lid of the Coke, grabbed his drink, and exited the bar.
    I scoffed as I tilted the remainder of the ice into my
mouth. “Thur whurnt bur a nurxt thurme,” I managed to say past a mouthful of
ice.
     
    ***
     
    Anytime my mind wandered from the job at hand and instead
recalled the conversation from the kitchen, I threatened myself that I would
slam my fingers in the cool room door. Threatening self-harm did nothing to
stop my mind from wandering back to what I had overheard, a conversation I was
really regretting I had listened to. Who was I to care what the gossip was?
This place was filled with it, and if it wasn’t the kitchen, it was the bar or
the restaurant. It was a small town. I defied anyone not to have something to
say about business that wasn’t their own, just like this wasn’t mine. So what
if Mel had a boyfriend? It was nothing to do with me, and so what if she had
blushed at the mention of my name? She was a shy girl. I had seen her blush
myself—it was just her way. She wasn’t like the self-assured girls that would
wander into the Onslow, sashaying up to the bar and ordering a drink with
double-blinking, come-fuck-me eyes. No, Mel was just an innocent from bloody
Ballan who hadn’t experienced the outside world, save from one dusty town to
the next. So, the fact she had landed herself a bloke, and by all accounts a
shearer who I assumed worked for her old man, well, maybe it was an arranged
marriage or something? Again I mentally slapped myself from thinking way too
much about this; I seriously needed to get a life.

 
    Chapter
Fifteen
     
    Mel
     
    I hadn’t been quick enough, even as fast as I could move
across the kitchen to slam my hand on top of the intercom button, cutting off
the mortifying topic of conversation over my reaction to Max’s name. Jesus, I
would be the worst poker player.
    My hand remained on top of the speaker, my eyes closed as I
took in a deep, calming breath.
    Oh God, please don’t let Max have heard that.
    What had begun as the perfect ploy to make out as if I was
some kind of worldly creature with this amazing, manly, hot boyfriend had
seriously backfired, thanks to the schoolgirl taunts.
    I slowly turned, only to be met with a curious gaze from
Amy. “What are you doing?” she asked, laughing.
    “Oh, nothing. I thought I saw a fly,” I said, inwardly
cringing at my lame lie. That’s it. From now on I was only going to tell the
truth. Lies hadn’t served me well in the past.