Falling Away Read Online Free PDF Page B

sweetness in her face is magnified in the sunshine, and it looks flawless in the light. “Gemma and I are going to a party after work. We would really love you to come.”
    “Whose party is it?” I ask, striding determinedly uphill to reach the café.
    “A friend of Gemma’s. From school.”
    I pause briefly, unable to invoke an appropriate excuse. “Yeah, maybe Em. I’ll see how I feel after work.”
    She nods prettily. “You should come, Sam. You never go out,” she says, scraping her blonde hair up into a high ponytail as we walk into work.
    For the dinner shift I spread crisp white cloths over the tables. I take wineglasses by their stems and place them in position, folding starched napkins next to shiny cutlery. And a strange sense of satisfaction fills me when the room is beautifully set, the glasses and white cloths clean against the glistening blue of the bay.
    Riley’s eyes look bloodshot. He’s in the kitchen, swaying around to the music. His eyes are heavy-lidded and pale, detracting from his otherwise very good looks. Jessica Mauboy’s playing on the radio and he’s singing quite tunefully along. I need a doc-tor, ‘cause this is starting to burn. I hope this doesn’t translate to the food.
    “You coming out later, Sammy?” he asks cautiously when we’re alone. “Be good if you did.”
    “I don’t know. Maybe.” Emily didn’t mention Riley was going. The party suddenly seems even less appealing. Or does it? I mean, he’s attractive and appears to be interested, although he does have a rather forward way of showing it. So what is wrong with me? The fact that he’s your boss, Sam. Almost.
    “What are you so scared of, Sam?” Riley turns his back on me to check the ovens. “Start on the salads,” he says. And his voice is like a hammer, bashing at the awkward silence loaded between us.
    I’m busily tossing salad into bowls and trying to create the impression that Riley isn’t under my skin when Gemma breezes through the swing-doors. She looks from me across to silent Riley and then back again, raising her eyebrows and gesturing at him behind his back.
    I shrug at her. She pins a couple of orders to the wall and leaves.
    Riley’s broad shoulders are turned away and thankfully he’s focused on the food. He thaws after a while though, and seems to change tack. I had thought Riley was laid back, but now I’m not so sure. He pours rice into the rice cooker, spilling it onto the bench and not appearing to care. The grains bounce across the floor and he walks across them to the fridge to check dessert.
    The café’s only half full, so Gemma and Emily take turns to wait tables. It’s quiet tonight, a pleasant change from the rushes we’ve been consumed by lately. Maybe the holiday-makers are finally clearing out. The summer vacation is nearing its frantic end. In a few short weeks tourists won’t crush the wharf and the locals will be drawn out. And maybe then we won’t feel understaffed.
    By the time there’s only one couple left in the café I’m totally exhausted. My feet ache and my throat’s parched dry from the heat. The night’s dark and hot, stifling without the soft breath of a breeze. I glance across the bay from the balcony and see the faint glow of Hawks Nest luminising the sky in the distance, with tiny twinkling lights framing the far-off shore. The radiance in the dark is pretty in the night.
    “So, are you coming out?” Riley asks as I’m closing the kitchen. “We’re all going.”
    I peer through the internal kitchen window into the café where Emily and Gemma are wiping down tables. The last customers pay George at the register, thanking him and throwing coins into a bulbous glass bowl on the counter. He laughs with them until they leave.
    “I s’pose so,” I say, shifting uncomfortably. When I look up at him he smiles like he’s won a game. Outmanoeuvred me into agreement.
    “You’ll come?” squeals Emily, bursting into the room.
    I roll my eyes at her.