“Are we still on for catching up tonight?” I asked during a lull in the conversation.
“Yes! I can’t wait!”
I groaned. “I know that tone! Are you going to force me to go clubbing tonight?”
“You bet your ass I am! I can’t spend my last few days in New Zealand baking cookies! This is my last weekend here for a while, Bry. Besides, you never let me celebrate your twenty-first birthday a few days ago. We can do both tonight!”
My stomach churned. I hated clubbing. The squash of people and the sweaty bodies as they gyrated on the dance floor wasn’t my scene, but Chloe loved it. She lived for her weekends in town.
“I don’t think I’m up for clubbing tonight, Chloe.”
“Oh, come on, Bry,” Chloe wheedled. “Darryn and Michael will be there. I told them you were coming. They’d be devastated if you don’t follow through.”
I hesitated. Even though I didn’t give a damn about celebrating my birthday, these were Chloe’s last few days in the country. I shouldn’t be so selfish. After all, it would be six months before she was back. “Okay, I’ll be there.”
Chloe squealed in response. “Great! Be at mine by eight, and wear something sexy!”
I hung up, resigned at what was to come.
The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity as the rain eventually cleared and brought a barrage of customers through the door. The distraction was a godsend, as it kept my mind off the events of the morning. By the end of it, I had generated a lot of interest in Edmund’s latest line of work.
When the last customer had left, I didn’t waste any time flipping the sign to ‘closed’ and bolting the shop door. As I bent to check that all the cabinets were once again locked, the workroom door opened and Edmund came through, carrying a tray of emerald rings.
“Brydie,” he said, smiling softly. “So lovely to catch you before you left. How was your day?”
I gave him a careful smile. “The morning was slow due to the weather, but we had a little rush near the end of the day. You’ll be happy with the sales.”
“Good, good.”
I couldn’t help moving closer to look at his latest collection. “What have you designed now?”
I ignored the slight tremor to the tray as he allowed me to view his work. The rings were large, almost costume size, with dark green emeralds taking center stage. I gave a low whistle at the contents. “These are exquisite, Edmund!”
His pale cheeks flushed, and a small, shy smile bloomed. “Thank you. This style was very popular back in the early 1900s.” His face had become animated, his voice quick and warm. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
I had to agree. Edmund was a prestigious jeweler, and his work was coveted both here and overseas. New Zealand was a small country with limited opportunities for apprenticeships of this caliber, and I knew I was incredibly lucky to have been awarded the position for eighteen months. I was two thirds through my apprenticeship, having spent the first year learning about different gemstones and metals, what they could and couldn’t do, as well as gaining experience in customer service. I couldn’t wait to spend the last six months designing and creating pieces with Edmund in his workroom. It was what I’d signed up for.
Edmund carried the tray to one of the vacant display cases I’d cleared earlier that day and started to arrange the collection inside.
I pulled my coat on and began fastening it. As I secured the last button, I looked up to catch Edmund’s intent stare over the rim of his spectacles. I’d caught him doing this too often recently.
I cleared my throat. “Did you need me for something, Edmund?”
“No, no,” he rushed out, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. They promptly fell forward again. “I just wondered if I could offer you a lift home? It looks like it’s about to get miserable again. I shouldn’t be more than five minutes here, if you’d care to wait.”
My chest constricted at the offer. I knew I couldn’t take him up on it. Edmund was at least ten years my senior and clearly harbored feelings toward me. They were becoming more prominent since I’d broken off my engagement to James last month, and I was desperate to keep our relationship on a working level. So far, I hadn’t acknowledged any of his advances, but if he kept pushing, I would need to put an end to it soon. I didn’t want to encourage him and still hoped that I could get through the last six months of my apprenticeship without needing to address the issue at all.
“That’s very kind of you, but after being inside all day, I do need the walk.”
Disappointment flooded Edmund’s face. I swiftly glanced away, busying myself by tugging on my yellow knitted cap and unhooking my umbrella from the back of the door.
“The shop front’s all secure,” I plowed on. “I hope you have a good weekend.”
He gave me an awkward smile, his gaze yearning. “You too, Brydie.”
I didn’t take a deep breath until I was safely on the sidewalk. The air felt heavy and moist after the recent rainfall, and the bulging dark clouds to the west heralded more to come. I could smell the rain that had recently fallen, dampening the usual smells of the city.
I headed down the embankment of the Waikato River, veering off the sidewalk to take the more scenic riverside path. The voracious water, now muddy brown because of the recent deluge, moved swiftly downstream. The gurgle of the river as it eddied and flowed muffled the sounds of the late afternoon traffic up on the promenade. There were only a few stragglers around, equally as determined as I to make the most of the break in the weather. I relished the privacy, for after what had happened today, I didn’t feel like sharing my space with anyone.
Ten minutes later, the river walkway veered up to the historical suburb of Hamilton East. Quaint villas and heritage buildings soon replaced the leafy green foliage along the embankment, and the solitude of the river was forgotten in the suburban neighborhood.
Windows twinkled invitingly in the impending dusk. As I looked into the numerous homes, I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be going home to someone—a partner, a family, children. I couldn’t. I was so used to living on my own that I couldn’t imagine sharing my home with anyone. My relationship with James had proved that.
I waved to Mrs. Simpson as she bent over on her front porch to feed her cat a tin of gourmet cat food, and then to Harry, the neighbor’s five-year-old son, as he flew past on his scooter. Two more houses down, and there it was—my beautiful villa.
I’d recently painted the weatherboards off-white with a mint green trim. It looked whimsical and fresh, a perfect match for my flourishing garden. I’d personally chosen every fern, tree, shrub, and bush that grew there, lovingly nurturing them into a leafy green oasis that afforded a high level of privacy from the road and adjoining neighbors.
It was my sanctuary. The one place I could truly relax and the only place I could call home after my parents had died.
I hadn’t been able to stay in the house I’d lived in with my parents. The memories were too painful. Nora agreed that I should move on, and we sold it soon after the funeral. After a few weeks of looking on the real estate market, I found this little villa. I knew it was mine the instant I saw it. It soon meant more to me than just a home—especially when Nora abandoned me a few weeks later.
Thankfully, it hadn’t been tarnished by her departure, or my breakup with James. He’d never stayed overnight here, preferring that we sleep at his house. He argued that my villa was too small and too far of a commute to his business on the other side of town. I knew the real reason was that he disliked it. The villa had a definite feminine appeal, and wasn’t prestigious enough to hold his interest.