The Shock Engagement

‘Tahlia Moran, I would like you to meet my old friend, Harry Buchanan.’

Tahlia practically curtsied. ‘Harry. Of course. Congratulations on the enormous success of Harold’s House. It is a supreme example that innovation can still be achieved with the medium. An Internet search engine aimed entirely at under-eighteens. Brilliant!’

Emma couldn’t help but grin. Tahlia was such a sweetheart. Such a hard worker. So entrenched in the fabric of WWW Designs. In her capacity as Director of Sales, she was the public face of the company. Emma worried about what would happen if WWW Designs really did come under serious threat. Though she had been one person never to become embroiled in Raquel’s ‘special assignments’, her friend’s fall would be so public.

Harry gave Tahlia a brief nod but said no more. Funny. For a guy who usually lapped up female attention as if it was drinking water, the bestowal of praise for his outstanding success seemed to be something he could not simply charm his way through. It was actually kind of adorable.

‘Later, T,’ Emma said, waving her friend away and stepping into the lift.

‘Have fun, Emma,’ Chrystal called out, leaning so far over the reception desk Emma could make out the colour of her bra. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’

Emma took Harry by the hand and dragged him into the lift with her. She did all she could to hide her blush. If she followed Chrystal’s advice she and her Harry would be in for a wild time.

CHAPTER TWO

GIRLS’ NIGHT IN WITH THE PRINCESS BRIDE

‘As she wishes? That princess has no idea how lucky she is,’ Keely said. ‘The most romantic thing my first boyfriend said to me was, “What would you like to watch on telly?”’

ONCE Emma was finally able to extricate herself from the WWW Designs building she walked Harry quickly away from the riverside boardwalk, past the long run of funky restaurants and hip cafés, and around the corner into the maze of car parks and parklands behind the office building.

The letter in her briefcase burned in her mind and she wondered if she should show Harry. But it was a private letter, one even she should not have seen, so she decided to let it simmer in her mind for a while longer before involving anyone else.

‘So where are we going in such a hurry?’ Harry asked. ‘Are you luring me into the bushes for a reason?’

‘You wish,’ she said, but she slowed only once she knew they were out of sight of the many beady eyes watching them through the tenth-storey windows. Spying a park bench, Emma led Harry to it and sat, dumping her briefcase on the ground at her feet.

‘Now let me have a look at you,’ Harry said, taking her by the hands as he gave her a steady once-over. ‘Let’s see how my little princess has aged.’

Emma faced her very best friend, the person who knew her better than any other, and the man who had held her heart in his hand for over a decade. Harry stared right back, his usual unsuspecting smile glinting in his beautiful hazel eyes. She had to look away lest her terrible poker-face disclose how overwhelmed she felt on seeing him again. Instead she focused on the play of light and shadow on the leafy ground as she waited for a mixture of comments about wrinkles, crow’s feet and other signs of old age.

But all he said was, ‘You are looking spectacular, princess.’

There was an intensity to his voice that had Emma’s gaze swinging back to his. But she must have imagined it. He was grinning from ear to ear, his face full of pride, just like the big brother he considered himself to be.

Letting one hand go, he reached out and took a handful of her straight blonde bob. ‘Very sophisticated.’

He gave it a little tug before letting the hair slip between his fingers. Emma suppressed a delicious shiver but she could not stop herself from tucking the now swinging hair safely back behind her ear.

‘And you haven’t changed a bit,’ she said. ‘I swear you were wearing exactly the same clothes when you drove off a year ago.’

Harry looked down and grinned. Grabbing the flaps of his jacket he opened them up, revealing a fitted white T-shirt clinging to the despicably well-formed chest beneath. ‘I think you’re probably right.’

‘How you get by looking like that I’ll never know.’

‘I’ve never had complaints from the ladies before.’ He smiled so wide she caught sight of a sexy pair of sharp canines.

‘I am a lady, so consider this your first. Please let me take you shopping while you’re here,’ Emma begged.

‘Sure,’ he said, thankfully covering himself back up. ‘Now you are such a sophisticate, maybe you finally can teach me a thing or two.’

‘Are you insinuating I never could before?’

He shrugged. ‘Well, you are younger than I, and less worldly-wise. What good is it having an older friend unless they can teach you the ways of the world?’

‘Please,’ she scoffed. ‘What did you ever teach me but how to get into trouble?’

‘Moi?’ he asked, his expression mortified.

‘So you want a list? Okay. I can count cards with the best of them thanks to your tutelage the summer I turned fifteen. You taught me how to hotwire a motorbike when I was nineteen. The first time we met you gave me a red apple you had stolen from the next door neighbour’s tree.’

‘It had fallen into your yard,’ he argued.

‘The tree was ten feet from our fence! Ruling out a freak hurricane, that was a physical impossibility.’

‘Okay then. I am a bad influence. Should I leave now, head hung in shame, never to disgrace your door again?’

Even said in jest the suggestion made Emma’s mind mist over red. She reached out and grabbed his hand, tucking it tight between her own. ‘Don’t even joke about that, Buchanan.’

His smile shifted, lost some of its fashioned charm, and Emma felt the sounds of the park slip away. When he looked at her like that, with such honesty, it gave her ideas. Hope. It made her think that maybe one day he would see her as something other than a little sister type.

He patted her hand. ‘You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.’ Then he winked and the charmer was back.

The sounds of the park rushed back in. Leaves rustled, birds squawked and cars whooshed past on the road nearby.

‘Did you drive over from…wherever you were?’ Emma asked, pulling her hands from his as she shifted her weight to the other bottom cheek.

‘Yep. I brought the bike. I went by your folks’ place on the way here but no one was home.’

‘They’ve gone away.’ She could have fitted a golf ball into Harry’s rounded mouth.

‘Away?’ he repeated. ‘But they’ll be back by Saturday…Surely.’

Saturday. The real reason why Harry came home the same time each year.

Emma shook her head. ‘No, they won’t. They have taken a much needed break in the Great Barrier Reef for a couple of months.’ She watched Harry closely, embroiled in his reaction, which was a great deal fiercer than she would have expected. His brow crinkled, his skin came over blotchy as though he was trying to hold in his acute angst.

‘Whose…whose idea was this?’

‘Mine. Theirs. I don’t remember. We were talking one night about how long it had been since they’d taken a holiday together so I bought them the airfares for their wedding anniversary. They chose this time of year and I didn’t once think of asking them to postpone.’

It made sense, it had symmetry and it showed great strength, Emma thought. In choosing not to be in town on that particular Saturday, her parents had made a point that despite past events they were living their lives. She was so proud of them and she wasn’t going to let Harry convince her otherwise.

Ready to move on conversationally and physically, Emma gathered her bits and pieces. ‘Well, now, dear boy, your forfeited side trip means that you get the surprise early.’

‘Surprise?’ he asked, taking her briefcase from her.

‘A good surprise,’ she said, leading the way back to the street where Harry’s custom-built motorbike awaited them.