Free Catch of The Day: Destiny Romance by Carla Caruso Page B

acquainted – Eden liked to make herself known to all the ‘right’ people, including the local media.
    Eden’s fiancé, Flynn Hilton, was at her side. Alex shook his hand. Apparently Flynn, with his clean-cut, movie-star looks, had broken many a local girl’s heart when he asked for Eden’s hand in marriage. To Alex, though, Flynn was just an all-round nice guy, and pretty decent on the football field.
    Eden introduced Flynn and Winnie, then asked Winnie the same question Winnie had asked Alex: what she was doing there.
    ‘Oh, I’m actually looking for a guy called Chester Wyatt.’ Winnie wrung her hands. ‘For a story for
Beach Life
. Apparently he’s going to be on
The Farmer Wants a Wife
. I haven’t had much luck tracking him down, though.’
    ‘Chester Wyatt?’ Eden trilled. ‘We’re having our reception on his cattle property.’ She darted glances around the crowd. ‘Oh, look, there he is. In the red-check shirt.’ Which didn’t exactly narrow things down, but she hadn’t finished, calling, ‘Chester, yoo-hoo!’
    Seconds later, the hulking farmer was striding in their direction, thumbs in his belt loops and an oversized black akubra shading his face. Winnie looked bug-eyed with excitement as he paused to nod his greeting at the group.
    ‘Chester,’ Eden purred, ‘Winnie here is new to town and would absolutely love to do a story on your reality-TV debut for the launch issue of
Beach Life
magazine. You’d be in fabulous company, too. Our wedding’s going to feature in the publication. Sound like something you’d be up for?’
    Chester looked at Eden and Winnie beneath heavy-set brows, assessing them as slowly as a cow might chew on grass. Finally, his gaze paused on the strawberry blonde. ‘Hi. I got your phone messages. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. I’m not much of one for interviews, but if you’re a friend of Eden’s, I s’pose it’d be okay.’
    ‘Yes, I’m a friend,’ Winnie exclaimed, seizing on the moment. ‘Maybe – maybe I could even ask you a few quick questions now and get Alex here to take a few snaps? Then it’d all be over before you know it – like a flu shot!’
    Chester shrugged, drawling, ‘‘Kay.’ The bloke was going to make great TV talent. Not. Even if he was filthy rich. Winking in the background, Eden slid away, her arm linked with Flynn’s.
    ‘Um, great, thanks,’ Winnie yelped, rummaging helplessly in her handbag. ‘I just need to find a pen, then we can get started.’
    Coolly, Alex reached into his jeans pocket, located a pen and extended it in Winnie’s direction. ‘Never seen a journalist without a writing utensil before,’ he couldn’t help commenting dryly.
    Winnie grimaced at him. ‘My saviour.’ Turning back to Chester, her features brightened with an encouraging smile. ‘So tell me – how did
Farmer Wants a Wife
come a-knocking?’
    A red Lancer coupé with a pink numberplate reading
Cyndi 86
held pride of place outside the main street’s beauty salon. Winnie figured it was the property of the salon owner she’d just phoned. Her name was Cyndi too.
    Sailing past it, Winnie pushed on the salon’s front door, its bell tinkling. She was in desperate need of a Brazilian wax. She didn’t usually like to bump into the person who waxed her privates at the supermarket, but she had little choice in this town. Besides, she didn’t have much to do that afternoon. Her keyboard had died following the peppermint tea debacle and she couldn’t ask Olive for help – the ad manager had disappeared to her eye appointment.
    At any rate, Winnie was still buzzing from the Chester Wyatt coup, so the beauty salon trip was a celebration of sorts – an indulgence. Christa didn’t have to know her every move.
    Inside the salon, nail-product fumes and Bananarama’s ‘Venus’ assaulted her senses. She could see the back of a diminutive blonde at a manicure table, coral-coloured nail polish drying on extended fingertips. A