Page 69 of An Accidental Flatmate

I can’t let it last.

They were intimate in a way he’d never imagined. And from the moment he’d met her, he’d guessed deep down this might happen, and had kept contact with Beatriz work-focused as a result. Better now he’d come to terms with his disillusion about Monique. Beatriz deserved better. Pouring all his money and time into a new business put limits on what he could offer her.

Except Beatriz hadn’t changed. A fling. She never alluded to the future, especially a shared future, and it was starting to niggle at him. She was right that they’d agreed on a fling, but his heart kept askingWhy not?

“Take your time. Dinner’s about twenty minutes.”

“Give me five.”

Shucking his work gear for jeans and a tee, Cas joined her in the loungeroom.

She handed him a beer. “Cheers.”

He’d shared all his secrets with her, including his fear of having let his dad down, and somehow skinned another layer off his protective skin. She’d shared first, and having the self-contained Beatriz Gomez admit she was afraid of Jackson ambushing her triggered all the protective instincts he usually reserved for family.

With Beatriz he didn’t feel exposed or besieged. He searched for a word that fitted. Safe. A boring word, but safety in a lover’s arms had eluded him for much of his adult life. He was too easy a target for his family’s perceived wealth.

It’s not real, Cas. She agreed to an affair.

“Have you heard from Mo?”

“Mo’s interested.”

She clapped her hands.

“I’m talking about spending every dime I’m likely to earn for years, and you’re cheering?”

“I’m excited.”

Her excitement seemed to rise in direct proportion to his progress toward setting up his business. She remembered the rules even when he was floating in a sex-drugged haze. He couldn’t believe she only wanted the sex.

“Yeah. I’m pleased too. But we’ve got a way to go yet.” Lots of those pesky logistical details that weren’t his forte.

“Based on the plans he outlined to me—and I’m not breaking business confidentiality here—he wants to offer a service to any large or small business interested in his products, and despite my best efforts, he’s still leaning toward Sunshine Superman, although he is considering Ally’s Prints after his daughter.”

“Terrible habit, naming a business after families. Dad resisted the pressure to call The Hariri building Hariri and Son, but Ally’s Prints is a tribute rather than assuming a dynasty.”

“What do you think your father’s business should be called? Is it the dynastic element of it that worries you?”

“I hated those endless conversations between Dad and his business associates when I was a kid. I wished the earth would swallow me. One of them would always finish with ‘and when’s the sign for Hariri and Son going up?’ If anything, it should read Hariri and Sons. Better still, Hariri and Children—a fitting tribute to moving the Hariri family halfway around the world for a different kind of future. Hariri and Family sounds even better. That makes it intergenerational, and allows for any variations in surnames.”

“Suggest it. Your family likes to break traditions.” Her smile was full of mischief.

“I just might. What about yours?”

“I think they’re completely Australian and have absorbed all the local customs, then something happens, and I’m faced with decisions their parents might have made in Chile. And you’re trying to distract me. Is nature where you get your inspiration?”

“Colours and patterns fascinate me. I was surrounded by them at Jaddatee’s. She bought books when she saw I was interested, and crayons and watercolours, even oils. Although they were never my thing.”

“You realise you need a name and a brand for yourself.”

“Mo and I traded for a while. We’d workshopped what we wanted to be known for, tested it out.”

“Tested what out? I want to know everything.”

“I designed. He printed fabrics.”

“Right. You just designed independently in your attic and then handed them over. He chose fabric, colour variations, production quantity, price, outlets, what?”

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