reason he lived at home. He didn’t want rent to bite him on the ass. Plus he was hardly at home.
With a newspaper and table number in hand he ran the pram gauntlet, dodged a few toys that had been thrown overboard and also what he hoped was cake now splattered on the floor. He pitied the waitresses who had to clean up after this lot was gone, but he doubted these women would spare a moment to consider the mess.
The table in the corner was still free and he slid into it, glad to be out of the way and yet part of the good vibe.
Breakfast at Cottesloe after a morning of surfing. Life was good.
And if he repeated that a few more times he might be able to shut out the rather noisy panic that nothing was happening, or happening fast enough.
The woman at the table next to him glanced over before going back to reading her book. She didn’t have the haughty sneer, nor did she give him the glare for daring to sit near her. He smiled, but didn’t say anything.
He glanced at her again as he opened up the paper. She was pretty. Long blonde hair caught up in a messy bun. And an ability to tune out all the noise around her so she could read. In fact, she seemed completely unbothered by everything going on around her.
Was her life so completely perfect that she had nothing to worry about…or was she hiding in the book because she didn’t want to be found?
Either way, he didn’t want to disturb her to find out.
He was about to look away when she lifted her coffee cup; her ring glinted in the light. Good thing he hadn’t interrupted her.
His coffee and breakfast arrived as she finished off. He couldn’t help but notice as she spoke to the staff and shared a joke. She was obviously a regular and well liked. As he ate, the mothers departed and he got to hear the grumblings of the waitress left to clean up. Then he had the café almost to himself. He flicked to the sports section as he finished off what was left of his potato rostis—fancy hash browns in his book—and bacon. He didn’t care that he was full; he was going to eat everything on the plate because he’d paid for it.
He ordered a second coffee to wash it all down.
Then, after enjoying his extravagant and late breakfast, he leaned back in his chair to give his stomach room to digest. With no one to block his view he watched the surf and the guys using it. If he was lucky, that would be him one day. He tried to imagine himself in forty years’ time at retirement age and drew a complete blank.
Very few bands lasted forty years. Selling the Sun had to get in and get rich while they were young. After that? Well, he had his arts degree, and he was sure that was good for something besides keeping his father off his back.
Just like that, the sparkle had gone out of his day. No matter how blue the water or bright the sun, he couldn’t shake the need to be doing something. Anything.
He glanced at the vacant table next to him. She had been calm and quiet and content. Why couldn’t he find some of that?
Chapter 2
Olivia was sure that Julie had picked the most unflattering dresses she could to make sure she wasn’t upstaged. Her sister had been that way her whole life. Maybe if the dress hadn’t been orange or off the shoulder. Olivia gave the neckline a tug but there was no hiding the shiny pink scar that went over her shoulder and down the inside of her right arm.
At least it wasn’t red and angry looking anymore, but it clashed with the dress.
“You can cover that with makeup, right?” Julie narrowed her eyes as she inspected her sister.
“I have no idea. I’ve never tried.” Nor had she ever felt the need to. If she wanted to hide the scar, she chose clothes that covered it.
“I don’t want it in my photos.”
Olivia did her best not to roll her eyes and to keep her voice calm and soft. Starting an argument with Julie would make this harder. And to be fair, orange had always been Julie’s favourite colour. It wasn’t her sister’s fault that it
With a newspaper and table number in hand he ran the pram gauntlet, dodged a few toys that had been thrown overboard and also what he hoped was cake now splattered on the floor. He pitied the waitresses who had to clean up after this lot was gone, but he doubted these women would spare a moment to consider the mess.
The table in the corner was still free and he slid into it, glad to be out of the way and yet part of the good vibe.
Breakfast at Cottesloe after a morning of surfing. Life was good.
And if he repeated that a few more times he might be able to shut out the rather noisy panic that nothing was happening, or happening fast enough.
The woman at the table next to him glanced over before going back to reading her book. She didn’t have the haughty sneer, nor did she give him the glare for daring to sit near her. He smiled, but didn’t say anything.
He glanced at her again as he opened up the paper. She was pretty. Long blonde hair caught up in a messy bun. And an ability to tune out all the noise around her so she could read. In fact, she seemed completely unbothered by everything going on around her.
Was her life so completely perfect that she had nothing to worry about…or was she hiding in the book because she didn’t want to be found?
Either way, he didn’t want to disturb her to find out.
He was about to look away when she lifted her coffee cup; her ring glinted in the light. Good thing he hadn’t interrupted her.
His coffee and breakfast arrived as she finished off. He couldn’t help but notice as she spoke to the staff and shared a joke. She was obviously a regular and well liked. As he ate, the mothers departed and he got to hear the grumblings of the waitress left to clean up. Then he had the café almost to himself. He flicked to the sports section as he finished off what was left of his potato rostis—fancy hash browns in his book—and bacon. He didn’t care that he was full; he was going to eat everything on the plate because he’d paid for it.
He ordered a second coffee to wash it all down.
Then, after enjoying his extravagant and late breakfast, he leaned back in his chair to give his stomach room to digest. With no one to block his view he watched the surf and the guys using it. If he was lucky, that would be him one day. He tried to imagine himself in forty years’ time at retirement age and drew a complete blank.
Very few bands lasted forty years. Selling the Sun had to get in and get rich while they were young. After that? Well, he had his arts degree, and he was sure that was good for something besides keeping his father off his back.
Just like that, the sparkle had gone out of his day. No matter how blue the water or bright the sun, he couldn’t shake the need to be doing something. Anything.
He glanced at the vacant table next to him. She had been calm and quiet and content. Why couldn’t he find some of that?
Chapter 2
Olivia was sure that Julie had picked the most unflattering dresses she could to make sure she wasn’t upstaged. Her sister had been that way her whole life. Maybe if the dress hadn’t been orange or off the shoulder. Olivia gave the neckline a tug but there was no hiding the shiny pink scar that went over her shoulder and down the inside of her right arm.
At least it wasn’t red and angry looking anymore, but it clashed with the dress.
“You can cover that with makeup, right?” Julie narrowed her eyes as she inspected her sister.
“I have no idea. I’ve never tried.” Nor had she ever felt the need to. If she wanted to hide the scar, she chose clothes that covered it.
“I don’t want it in my photos.”
Olivia did her best not to roll her eyes and to keep her voice calm and soft. Starting an argument with Julie would make this harder. And to be fair, orange had always been Julie’s favourite colour. It wasn’t her sister’s fault that it
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