Romance for Cynics. Nicola Marsh

a problem. Text me the details.’

      ‘Done.’

      She waved and almost ran down the steps in her haste to escape. How they were going to pull off togetherness for the cameras he’d never know.

      As he gathered papers and flipped his laptop shut she called out, ‘Cash?’

      He glanced up, surprised by the mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘Yeah?’

      ‘Tomorrow night? Hope you like it spicy.’

      With a jaunty half-salute she was gone, leaving him confused by her hot and cold act and looking forward to tomorrow night more than was good for him.

      * * *

      That evening, Lucy picked up a half-garlic, half-ham-and-pineapple pizza on the way to supper with Gram. She hoped their favourite comfort food would do just that: provide comfort when she told Gram how she was obtaining the money to save her house.

      Gram wouldn’t be impressed. The last of the great romantics, Gram believed everyone deserved a lifetime of love. It had taken her six months after the initial separation to stop asking Lucy if there was any chance of reconciliation with Adrian; and the only reason she’d ceased badgering was because Lucy had finally told her the truth. That Adrian was a serial philanderer with a penchant for spending his considerable wealth buying the affection of women other than his wife.

      Gram had never mentioned his name again, which suited Lucy just fine. For while the hurt had faded following the discovery of Adrian’s indiscretions, the shame hadn’t. She’d been seduced by his world, had fallen for the glitz and glamour his wealth provided as much as she’d fallen for him. The designer clothes, the flashy car, the whirlwind of parties. She’d loved it all.

      Their marriage had seemed effortless, almost too good to be true. Which figured, considering that it was.

      So it wasn’t any great surprise she’d shut herself off from that world when it fell apart. She’d sold off her designer gear, ditched the fancy haircuts and make-up, and found solace in gardening.

      She liked dirt trickling through her fingers. She liked the solitude. She liked the small of damp earth and freshly cut grass. There was an inherent honesty in being so close with nature, a comfort she hadn’t found elsewhere.

      Gram had understood, had fostered her love for the outdoors and Adrian soon became a distant memory. But Gram’s romantic nature couldn’t be suppressed and she occasionally probed for news of Lucy’s dates, or ‘possibilities’ as Gram liked to call her infrequent forays into dinner or a movie.

      The truth was, Lucy didn’t socialise much. She dated occasionally, laid-back guys she’d met at the mulch supplier or tool shop. Blue-collar guys the exact opposite of Adrian.

      But she hadn’t felt a buzz in a long time...until today, when Cash had kissed her.

      Not good.

      She’d done her best to rationalise her reaction for the rest of the day, attributing the spark she’d felt as dormant hormones getting a kick-start.

      While that might be true, it didn’t explain the insane yearning to do it again. To see if it had been a fluke, a one-off. To see if he could make her whole body come alive for the first time in for ever.

      Cursing under her breath, she let herself into Gram’s cottage through the back door and dumped the pizza on the counter.

      ‘Hope you’re hungry, Gram,’ she called out, dishing the pizza.

      ‘Starving. Be there in a sec,’ Gram called out from the bedroom.

      Good. A few seconds gave Lucy time to mentally rehearse her spiel. Delivery was key if Gram was to accept her crazy scheme.

      ‘All done.’ Gram shuffled into the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. ‘No more surprises.’

      Curious, Lucy placed their plates at the table and returned to the sink to fill two glasses with water. ‘What were you up to?’

      ‘Going through your grandfather’s files. Making sure there were no more nasty debts ready to pop up and make our life hell.’

      Lucy nodded, saddened by the secrets Pops must’ve kept from those he loved. ‘Good idea.’

      Gram sat at the table and licked her lips. ‘Okay. This is your second visit in one day and you bring pizza. What’s going on?’

      Lucy slipped an arm around Gram’s shoulders and squeezed. ‘Never could fool you.’

      Gram’s eyes twinkled as Lucy took a seat. ‘My girl, you forget that I was your age, once—and I tried every trick in the book.’

      ‘I’m not sure you will have tried my latest trick, Gram.’ Lucy toyed with the cheese oozing over the crust of her pizza. ‘You know that plan I mentioned to secure the fifty grand? It’s all set.’

      Gram’s mouth dropped open before it closed with an audible snap. ‘I hoped...I mean, I thought you were dreaming...how—?’

      ‘One of my clients wants a complete redesign of his garden. The quote is about fifty thousand.’

      Gram’s eyes widened in horror. ‘I can’t take that much of your hard-earned money off you. It wouldn’t be right.’

      Lucy should have known this wouldn’t be easy. ‘Gram, you raised me. I owe you everything and this is the least I can do to repay you.’

      ‘Family don’t need repaying.’ Her lips set in a mutinous line. ‘I won’t take it.’

      ‘So you’d rather move out? Live in a one-room rented bedsit somewhere?’

      Gram glanced away but not before Lucy had glimpsed fear. ‘If that’s what it takes. Your grandfather caused this problem, not you, and I won’t have you paying for his sins.’

      Lucy admired Gram’s pride. In fact, she empathised. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with Adrian once she’d discovered his lies and pride had prevented her from taking the generous settlement he’d offered.

      Pops had called her foolish at the time but Gram had been quick to silence him, telling him to mind his own business. No, she couldn’t fault Gram for not wanting to take such a hefty sum of money. But it meant Lucy would have to embellish her offer to make it more appealing: namely, appeal to Gram’s romantic side.

      ‘That garden I’m doing? It’s in exchange for accompanying the client to a few functions.’

      Predictably, Gram perked up and lost her stubborn pout. ‘What functions? And who’s this client?’

      ‘Cashel Burgess.’

      A small dent appeared between Gram’s brows. ‘Why does his name sound familiar?’

      ‘He’s in the papers a fair bit.’ Understatement, considering the number of times his handsome face graced the society pages. The way he put it, his socialising was purely work, but she wondered how many times he’d blurred the lines between personal and professional with his clients.

      Not that it was any of her business, but the thought of his many dalliances made her stomach churn and she nudged away the plate of pizza.

      ‘He’s a financial advisor to the stars.’

      Gram fixed her with a steely glare. ‘Doesn’t sound like your type.’

      ‘He’s not, but he’s a nice enough guy, he asked for my help and I agreed.’

      ‘On the proviso you get fifty thousand dollars for making over his garden.’ Gram shook her head. ‘What am I missing here? Sounds to me like the guy’s desperate or crazy or both, offering to pay you to attend a few functions.’

      Lucy should’ve known Gram wouldn’t give up easily. The last thing she needed was Gram getting ideas about her fake relationship with Cash, but looked as if she’d have to tell her the rest.

      ‘He’s