It’s Love, Dude Read online

  ‘I’ve made a note of your concerns, Mrs Li.’ She glanced up as the door opened.

  The local courier walked in carrying his usual stack of parcels. A member of parliament’s office got a lot of unasked for material. The courier set the crate of parcels on the front desk and nabbed a box from it.

  Molly watched him approach her desk. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Li. Someone’s just walked in to see me. I need to go. Yes. Okay. Thank you, Mrs Li. Good-bye.’ She hung up. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Parcel for you.’

  Her eyes widened. Parcels seldom arrived addressed to her. Unless this was material on small town regeneration from the mayor? But the mayor would have walked it down.

  The sender’s name was an unknown woman in New South Wales and the box was strangely light. As big as it was, it was too light to hold a stack of papers.

  Molly reached for her scissors and cut the packaging. She reached in and pulled out…a woylie?

  There was a card on a ribbon around its furry brown neck, and a single word on the card. ‘Zane’.

  ‘Oh my goodness.’ The soft toy was adorable, but even more so was Zane’s thoughtfulness. She wondered how he’d tracked down someone who could make — and fast — such a lifelike woylie.

  ‘Molly?’ Julie asked.

  Everyone was looking.

  ‘Zane sent me a woylie.’ She laughed uncertainly and waved the toy in the air. ‘I think I must be the only person in the world to own a woylie.’

  The toy’s brown eyes and cute face seemed to smile at her. She gave it a quick cuddle. ‘I am so lucky.’

  ‘You sure are.’ Julie’s eyes met hers meaningly.

  Molly’s breath caught.

  Flowers or chocolate would have been nice, but having a woylie made and sent to her was a stellar level of awesome. A guy didn’t put that much effort into a casual friendship.

  Julie was right. It was time she took her chance.

  ***

  ‘There you go.’ It was ridiculous, talking to a toy woylie, but Molly was too happy to care. She set ‘Dude’ on the coffee table and collapsed onto the sofa. She’d brought the tablet computer with her to the lounge room, although it was inconceivable that Zane was awake at what had to be 4:00 a.m. for him. Still, she wanted to be the first person he spoke with when he woke up.

  She’d sent him a message from the office, saying thank you for the woylie. Now she took a photo of Dude in her home and sent that off, too.

  ‘Dinner would probably be a good idea,’ she told the toy.

  She took the computer with her into the kitchen while she threw together a quick pasta dish with chicken and avocado. Yum. As she ate, she scrolled through the news on Zane.

  He was still a celebrity. She grinned at the way he scowled at the paparazzi, but she had to admit his scowl was hot. She linked the article to a quick note, telling him a sexy scowl was unlikely to reduce anyone’s interest in him. Now, that was flirty.

  It was maddening how slowly the time went when she wanted to talk to him.

  On the other hand, it did give her time to decide what to wear. If he suggested a video chat again, she wanted to look pretty, but not as if she was trying too hard. She settled on a pink pyjama singlet top and matching bottoms with a soft cream-coloured wrap against the chill. She brushed her hair out and left it loose.

  If Zane didn’t email her when he woke, she’d be devastated.

  Finally, her computer pinged.

  She muted the television. Her hands were shaking as she picked up the tablet. It could just be spam.

  It was Zane. ‘Morning, babe. You on video cam?’

  She took a deep breath and switched it on. ‘Good morning.’

  His face appeared on her screen, smiling. ‘There you are. I like this way of starting the day.’

  ‘Me, too. Thank you for Dude, the woylie.’ She reached for the toy and held it near her face so Zane could see it. ‘He’s gorgeous.’

  ‘He’s not the gorgeous one.’

  She cuddled the woylie, needing to hug something. ‘Sweet talker.’

  ‘Too early in the morning to be anything but honest.’

  That was really nice.

  ‘But if I’m being honest, did you say you called my woylie “Dude”?’

  She giggled. ‘I thought it sounded like a surfer-dude.’

  ‘From the seventies.’

  ‘Zane!’

  ‘Don’t worry, babe. I can be cool enough for both of us.’

  She poked her tongue out at the screen.

  His low laugh was sleepy and rumbly. ‘How was your day?’

  ‘Having a woylie arrive in the office made it just brilliant.’ She paused, but Zane waited, and she realised he was interested and wanted an answer. ‘It was a normal day. I helped some people with their problems navigating the Federal bureaucracy, answered some email — oh and I got a phone call. Did you know there are tunnels from Antarctica to the caves near Jardin Bay?’

  ‘Have you been drinking?’

  ‘Only hot chocolate. Some of Greg’s constituents have active imaginations.’

  ‘Kooks, but you listen to them anyway,’ he said softly.

  ‘They’re lonely.’

  ‘You’re a marshmallow.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Soft, sweet and I want to eat you up. Plus, you look like a marshmallow in your pink and white PJs. Cute.’

  Molly had a wicked thought to question if he was wearing PJs. She could see his chest at times when the screen moved and it was definitely naked. Definitely hard and sculpted.

  His shoulders moved in a yawning stretch, setting muscles rippling. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘I should let you get up and grab a coffee.’

  ‘I have to get to training,’ he agreed. ‘But a couple more minutes…Molly?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I’m glad you liked Dude.’

  ‘I love him.’

  ‘Great.’ He looked and sounded amused at her fervour.

  She blushed.

  ’I’ll be competing on the Gold Coast in a few days.’

  ‘You’ll be in Australia?’

  ‘Yep. I hoped I’d get back over to Jardin Bay, but Max, my manager, has booked me in for some stuff. I’m sorry. I won’t make it over to see you.’

  Her heart soared, then dipped, then soared again. He did sound sorry. He wanted to be with her.

  ‘You still owe me that dinner, no matter how long it takes,’ she teased.

  ‘I’m counting on it.’ The intent in his voice silenced her. ‘Molly, I’m going to have to go, but I’ll check in with you, tonight. Your morning.’

  ‘Half a day away,’ she whispered.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He laughed, rueful, and shook his head. ‘Though how I’m meant to concentrate on training with visions of you in those marshmallow PJs, I don’t know.’

  ‘You’re a world champ. You’ll manage it.’

  ‘Glad you’ve got faith, babe. Bye.’

  ‘Bye, Zane.’

  Molly switched off the video cam and lay back on the sofa, balancing the woylie on her stomach. ‘He’s going to be in Australia.’ She put the toy aside and picked up the tablet. She ran a search on surfing competitions on the Gold Coast and hit the jackpot.

  So now she knew what Zane was coming to Australia for and when he’d absolutely have to be here.

  ‘How brave do you think I am, Dude?’

  The woylie looked inscrutable.

  She smiled. ‘Not as brave as I should be, but maybe brave enough.’ She clicked on a travel website.

  ***

  Zane hadn’t been kidding about being haunted by visions of Molly in her cute PJs. They were there with him as he trained, as his muscles burned and he felt the fire in his lungs. Today was a day to push himself. Tomorrow would be only surfing. The day after, he’d be on the plane back to Australia — damn it that he’d be flying to the wrong coast.

  ‘Whoa.’ Max sauntered into the gym. ‘Mayb
e we should have Cloo-in film you working out.’

  ‘Don’t even think about it.’

  His manager grinned. ‘You’ve already got your admirers.’

  Zane didn’t look around. If he wanted to continue to use the gym, he couldn’t afford to get a reputation for being approachable. For him, this was work. Socialising happened elsewhere.

  ‘Mighty fine admirers, too.’ Max was frankly checking them out.

  ‘Max.’

  His manager looked back at him and grinned.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Zane stood and swiped his towel.

  ‘Briefing for the Gold Coast. I won’t be going with you.’

  ‘Yeah, ’cause I don’t need a nanny.’

  ‘Because I have other clients,’ Max said. ‘Still, Cloo-in aims to break into the Australian market.’

  ‘They’re already there.’

  ’They want to be there in a bigger way, and the way you’ve taken off as their golden boy, they’re figuring you’re their passport. So they’ve sponsored a dinner at the Gold Coast event. The final night. It would be good if you won.’

  Zane raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I know,’ Max grimaced. ‘But I’m the messenger on this one. They’d like you to win, but win or lose, they want you front and centre for the final dinner. They, or rather, you on their behalf, will be presenting a cheque to — I forget the charity’s name. Something about wilderness adventures.’

  ‘I can present a cheque standing on my head.’

  ‘Standing on two feet would be preferable. And don’t forget, at your press conferences, use Cloo-in speak and encourage everyone to get out and get active.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Great.’ Max clapped him on the back. ‘I’ll leave you to your training, then.’

  ‘That’d be good.’

  Zane got back on course, but he did cast one glance after Max. He grinned and ducked his head.

  The man had style. He’d swept up Zane’s admirers — three model-gorgeous women — and taken them out with him.

  ***

  Molly woke before daybreak and lay staring at the darkness. In the brutal pre-dawn, last night’s brilliant idea didn’t shine so bright. Had she really just booked plane tickets and hotel rooms — at an exorbitant rate — just on the chance of seeing Zane? It wasn’t like he’d invited her.

  But he’d told her he’d be in Australia.

  She turned on the bedside lamp and found her computer. ‘Hey, Zane?’

  An endless minute later, her mobile phone rang. The screen read ‘Zane’. Hurriedly, she answered. ‘Zane, this’ll cost you the earth.’

  ‘I think I’m good for it.’

  Of course he was. He could probably even pay out of small change the hotel room rates that sounded more like monthly mortgage repayments to her. Still, she liked the humour in his voice.

  ‘Why are you awake this early? Bad dreams?’

  He’d phoned because he was worried about her.

  Her toes curled. ‘I was just awake…thinking.’

  ‘Thinking’s dangerous.’

  ‘Mmm.’ It was the perfect time to tell him what she’d done.

  ‘Hang on a tick, babe.’

  The line went staticky. She strained her ears and heard voices and perhaps the hum of traffic.

  ‘You caught me when I was out running. It’s a bit quieter here.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Path along the beach. I’ve just stepped off onto the beach, finding some empty space.’

  ‘Is it a nice day?’

  ‘Yeah, gorgeous, it is now.’

  Now that she’d called. ‘You’re flirting.’

  ‘Absolutely. Feel free to flirt back.’

  She smiled. ‘I can’t think of anything to say.’

  ‘Are you still wearing your marshmallow PJs?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you don’t need to say anything.’

  ‘I could offer to take them off?’ She couldn’t believe she’d said that. ‘No, I didn’t mean…’

  ‘On a public beach? Molly, you’d be had up for indecency.’

  She relaxed back against the pillows. ‘You’re the one on the public beach.’

  ‘I’d best leave my clothes on then.’

  She had a mental vision of how he’d look naked. ‘I think that would make your sponsors happy. You know, you not being arrested and all.’

  ‘How about you, Molly?’

  ‘I’d rather the world didn’t see you naked. And if you’re ever tempted, think what your grandfather would say.’

  ‘I’d rather not. You know, Brodie and I ran starkers through town, once.’

  ‘You and your brother? When?’

  ‘I was six and he was eight.’

  She laughed.

  ‘Granddad caught us and smacked us. He told us grundies — underpants — kept our dicks from falling off.’

  She curled up in the bed, giggling. ‘You’d best keep your grundies on, then.’

  ‘Yeah. Oh hell. I’ve just been spotted. Avalanche of grommets headed my way.’

  ‘Grommets?’

  ‘Surfing kids.’

  She heard the squeals of ‘Zane’ and ‘take my photo with him’ and their giggles. She took a deep breath and began quickly. ‘One thing.’

  But he was talking over her and probably deafened by the squeals. ‘I’ll speak to you soon, babe. Be good.’

  He was gone.

  Damn. There went her chance to confess. She looked at Dude the woylie. ‘A surprise it is.’

  Chapter 8

  Molly had flown before. She’d gone to Sydney for a holiday, Canberra a couple of times for work. She’d flown to Bali. But she had never ever been this nervous. She opened the in-flight magazine and winced.

  Glamour shots of the Gold Coast, although the Gold Coast was mainly background for a parade of outrageously beautiful women. Just what she didn’t need. She looked okay in her swimsuit, but she’d never worn a bikini, and as for the evening gowns the models were wearing in the photos…they were out of this world. Reflexively, Molly sucked in her tummy. How on earth could a real woman compete? She squinted at the photos. Had they been air-brushed?

  ‘Meow,’ she said under her breath, amused at her own cattiness. It was so evidently born of her insecurity.

  She tucked the magazine away and stared out the window. There was lots of sky and endless brown desert stretching out below them. She closed her eyes.

  The last couple of days had been intense as she raced to get her work up to date and even a bit ahead so she could steal this sudden holiday time. Ian had been fine with her taking the week off. Julie had been ecstatic, once Molly confessed what she intended to do. She’d thought Julie might say she was crazy to take the risk of surprising Zane. Instead, the older woman had hugged her and approved.

  ‘Life’s too short for missed opportunities.’

  In between getting things organised at the office and packing — and boy how she wished there was time to update her summer wardrobe — Molly managed to be a little bit sneaky with Zane. She’d asked him, trying to sound like she was teasing, which posh hotel he’d be staying at.

  Zane had named the hotel group. ‘They’re not a sponsor,’ he’d added. ‘But Max would like them to be. If there’s one around, he always has his assistant book me in.’

  So Molly had been able to book a room in the same hotel. Even the cheapest room had been eye-wateringly dear.

  The real problem would be finding out his room number. The receptionist wouldn’t be handing out information like that. No, Molly would have to phone him and say ‘surprise!’. She crossed her fingers. She hoped he’d be stunned in a good way.

  ***

  The Gold Coast was busy and self-consciously a holiday playground. The hotels loomed up at the water’s edge. Women sauntered, hips swaying, in abbreviated shorts and tiny tops. Men swaggered, broad shoulders, tanned skin and muscles on display. Tourists were everywhere, inadvertently causing pedestrian
chaos with their sudden stops to snap a photo.

  The hotel foyer was a relative oasis of calm. No, not calm. But the action here had purpose and you could feel the difference.

  Molly recognised a media pack when she saw one. These photographers weren’t wasting their time on random strangers and beach scenes. They were all focussed on the bank of elevators. A celebrity must be due to emerge.

  It was weird to think they could be waiting for Zane.

  She circled the pack, towing her suitcase behind her, and wound up at the reception desk. The clerk was courteous, efficient and impersonal. Despite the polite smile, the man could have been a robot.

  Molly gripped the passkey determinedly and headed into the media pack.

  Not one person made way for her, although a woman her age, on the outskirts of the pack and holding a voice recorder, grimaced sympathetically.

  Harassed and feeling hot in the comfortable shirt and trousers that had been suitable for the highly air-conditioned plane, Molly hit the lift button and nearly tumbled into it when the doors of the nearest one opened.

  She watched the doors close on the media pack with heartfelt relief and slumped a bit, just at the relaxation of being alone. Security cameras didn’t count.

  Her room was small, dominated by the bed and with a view of the road and the next hotel.

  Molly abandoned her suitcase just inside the door, kicked off her shoes and collapsed backwards onto the bed. She was done after flying across Australia. Zane was officially a legend if he survived flying all around the world.

  Of course, he wasn’t flying wracked with doubt that he was committed to doing something stupid.

  She massaged her forehead. If she phoned him now to say she was here, he’d be able to fake being pleased — not that Zane was the kind of man who faked anything, but her neurosis was off and running.

  On the other hand, if she could find out his room number, knock and surprise him, then she could see if he did want her here.

  Or she could unpack, shower, dress and be an adult about this.

  With a groan at the unfairness of adulthood, she rolled off the bed.

  The outfit she picked was a white tie-waisted shirt over a pair of denim shorts. She replaced her stud earrings with silver and rose quartz droplets and added a silver necklace with a rose quartz pendant.