Free Hold On to Me by Victoria Purman Page B

tough.’
    â€˜And what’s wrong with that?’
    â€˜Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But hey, I need a favour.’ Luca looked over into the back seat, where he’d stashed a sports bag and his laptop. ‘Can I crash at your place down there this week? I can’t keep doing all this driving up and down from home. There’s too much work to do and we’ve got a tight timeline, so …’
    â€˜Of course you can. Go see Lizzie at the Middle Point pub. She has a spare key.’
    â€˜Thanks. I’m hanging up now, sis. Bye, Francesca.’
    â€˜Wave bye-bye. She’s waving. Look at that! See you, Luca. Love you.’
    â€˜Yeah yeah.’
    When Stella arrived at her shop just after breakfast on Tuesday, the glazier was already on site. She’d made a slight detour to grab a takeaway coffee first so she could at least face the morning. The loaded skip was still positioned on the street, and next to it was a ute with a large A-frame on the back, with glass in various shapes and sizes fastened on it.
    Morelli Constructions sure moved fast.
    She realised there was already a window on her shop. She had a flashback to the way it had looked just four days before. It was her annual Christmas display and she’d loved this one most of all. In early November, when she’d been driving to Goolwa, she’d found a gum-tree branch on the side of the road, dragged it into her car and taken it home. She’d painted it white and then positioned it in quick-set concrete in an old wooden bucket. It had sat in the middle of the window and she’d hung pretty things from it instead of Christmas baubles. There were blue beaded earrings and other chunky costume jewellery. Silk scarves tied into bows. Wooden necklaces were strung from branch to branch like tinsel and, among the very top twigs, where someone else might have placed a sweet angel or a silver star, she’d nestled a pair of bright red patent-leather stilettos. Stella had adored creating that display, had loved the way that people walking by would stop, smile at each other and say, ‘Christmas isn’t far away, is it?’
    Stella loved this time of year. The heat and the season brought so many new people to the beach, and she loved going home at the end of each day knowing that a customer had walked into her shop and, no matter how much or how little they’d had to spend, had left with something special.
    â€˜G’day, love.’ A middle-aged man in overalls, with thinning hair and olive skin, was pulling tape off the window glass, which had been used to mark it with a big X. He balled it up and tossed it over his shoulder into the skip.
    â€˜Good morning. I can’t believe this is done already. Where did you come from?’ Stella smiled at the man.
    He laughed. ‘When Luca calls and says I should come, I come.’
    Stella sighed. She could hear the accent and guessed the community connection. ‘I’m Stella Ryan. This is my shop.’
    She held out a hand but instead of shaking it the man lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. ‘Tony.’
    Stella said under her breath, ‘Of course you are.’ She sipped her coffee, trying not to get mad. ‘Thank you again for coming to do this so quickly. Do you have an account?’
    Tony looked confused. ‘A what?’
    â€˜Your account. An invoice.’
    Tony lifted his chin. ‘You talk to Luca about that.’
    â€˜Talk to me about what?’
    Luca’s voice was teasing, slow and right behind her. Zing . It was like molten lava in her veins. She turned. There he was, in the flesh, wearing his work uniform of black polo shirt and khaki shorts, accompanied by a charming grin.
    â€˜Good morning.’ She was glad she was wearing her sunglasses so he didn’t see her wide-eyed stare or the involuntary flicker of her gaze up and down his body. How was it possible that he’d improved