Page 85 of Masquerade

He needed a drink. The biting cold sliced through him as he cut through the Royal Botanic Garden. Huddled further into his coat, he grunted. The foul weather suited his bad-tempered musings. The wind snatched up dried, shrivelled leaves and dirt to create a mini tornado. He ate grit, tasted anguish. The bar was a welcoming fug.

“A double Jameson, water on the side, please.” He headed for the stool at the far end of the counter. The book banged against his thigh when he shrugged out of his coat. He pulled it out and a card floated to the floor.

Suzy Cornish. Associate editor.The name was meaningless to him. The logo was a G & C framed within a Snow White-like magic mirror. He read the second line.

Galena and Co. He remembered seeing the name. They shared the fourth floor with Futureproof. Galena, he’d assumed, was an ore miner in partnership with the bigger company.

Stories of Love. The words on the next line bounced and blurred while his brain caught up with his vision. The bustling buzz of the bar went silent.

Galena and Co. was a romance publisher, and he was a feckin idiot. He held the embossed card between thumb and forefinger. Kate had offered this flimsy piece of cardboard as her alibi. It was a grubby indictment of his kneejerk suspicions. The final line held no surprises.Futureproof Building, Pitt Street, Sydney.

She’d been in another office, probably lining up an author’s visit or another library book display.

Why the outfit? Who was the woman behind the blonde wig?

The whiskey arrived, and he took his first swallow straight, welcoming the burn down his throat. He added a few drops of water and turned the book over in his hands. Catchy title with a decent hook. He opened the back cover to find a photo of Kate Higgins.

“Sweet Mary and Joseph. This was her secret!”

He downed the rest of his drink and signalled for another.

Still staring at the cover photo, he saw Kate looking down her nose at him in Clelland’s boardroom, afraid he’d blow her cover but proud of her research. Kate in the library, wary at finding him in the midst of romance novels, but brave in her sharing of fantasies. Kate leaning against him on a cliff top offering silent support for his story of an adolescent boy who hadn’t wanted to leave the farm, and confessing her parents wanted her to be someone else. Kate caught in the crosshairs of a photographer looking to embarrass him, telling him what she’d done to reclaim her life from Andrew Levin.

He’d fallen for her blue eyes, straight answers and passion for life. He reached for his second drink. Finding proof that she hadn’t betrayed him with Futureproof made his mood more ragged. Why had she been afraid to trust him with the truth about Kate Higgins? He loved her, and because of his shocked bloody-mindedness, he hadn’t just let her slip through his fingers; he’d thrust her out the damn door.

He started to read and continued to drink.

The phone shattered his concentration.

“You said you’d explain your mysterious text later,” answered his brother. Unreasonable pleasure at his brother’s call seeped through Liam’s light alcoholic haze.

“Can I come over?”

“Sure.”

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Liam hung on to Niall’seasy welcome on the ride to his brother’s place. A few short weeks ago, he wouldn’t have made the request, regardless of how much he wanted to.

The squeak of Niall’s rickety gate brought his brother onto the porch. Liam pushed a bottle of Jameson’s into his hands.

His brother dragged him into the living room. “You look like shite. I’m guessing you didn’t drive.”

“Taxi.” Liam shucked his overcoat and looked around for a place to put it. He threw it in the direction of an armchair. “Want a drink?”

Niall followed the overcoat with his gaze, then turned to the kitchen, reappearing with two glass Vegemite jars. He set them, the bottle and an antique milk jug covered with a delicate floral design on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“That’s water by the way.” He pointed at the jug.

“I haven’t drunk much.” Two double shots in the pub, but those had been an anaesthetic.

“Did I ask?” Niall poured generous shots into the glasses, then settled in a chair opposite. “Water or ice?”

“Not tonight.” He swallowed half the jar in a single mouthful.

Niall topped it up.

“I missed this.” Liam sat back on the sofa, nursing the jar.

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