Page 10 of Worth the Scandal
“That’s me.” I tossed my carry-on into the back and slid into the leather passenger seat. “You’re Shelley?”
“That’s right. Personal assistant to the king himself,” she said with a wink. “Welcome back to Dawson’s.”
The door shut with a satisfying thunk, and we pulled away from the curb.
I hadn’t even been back five minutes, and the memories were already crawling out of the cracks in the pavement – just like I knew they would.
The streets here still had that sleepy, wide lane charm. Old brick buildings with fresh paint jobs. A new café squashed between the vintage movie theatre and the butcher shop. Half the town looked exactly as I remembered—like time had forgotten to pass through and like mum was still walking the pavement holding my hand and telling me the rich history and stories of her own childhood as a little girl growing up here. I wipe a tear from my eye at the memories flooding in. I quickly come to notice, the other half of Dawson’s has been dragged into the twenty-first century, thanks to the Ridgebacks and their meteoric rise.
“Still can’t believe this place has a stadium that rivals Accor and Suncorp,” I mutter, half to myself.
Shelley smiles. “The Ridge really changed everything. Whole town’s been riding the high for years.”
“Yeah, I saw a billboard with Jace’s face on it outside the airport, he’s doing so much for his community” I say, scrolling through my phone. “Man’s basically local royalty, and the kids around here love him, he’s trying to get the Koori Knockout hosted here next year, you know?” I didn’t know, but that’s something I’d get involved in for sure, I thought.
“He eats free at every restaurant in town. I’m not even kidding.” She adds with a chuckle.
I huff. “Small town perks. So, you from around here?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Moved here 3 years ago for the job. It was supposed to be temporary… but you know how it goes. Dawson’s Ridge has a way of digging in its claws.”
“That, or my dad has a way of convincing people to stay, he could talk Eskimos into buying ice that man. After all he talked me into coming back here”
She smiles politely but avoids answering that. Hm.
“So, how old are you?” I ask bluntly, glancing over at her again.
Shelley blinks clearly caught off guard. “Um—thirty-three.”
“Oh! Still single?” She looks younger than thirty-three. Her face has a youthful glow, and her fuller cheeks give her a beautiful smooth baby face.
She laughs, a little nervously. “I am.”
“Me too. Twenty-eight and already collecting throw pillows like I’m sixty. It’s tragic.”
“You’ve got your best years ahead of you, Scar,” she says sweetly.
“You don’t know that. I peaked at twenty-three. It’s been a slow decline ever since.” The sarcasm drips over my every word.
Shelley giggles, and for a second, the ice breaks between us. She is warm, kind. Too kind to be dealing with my dad’s temper and micromanaging. She probably meditates and journals and takes deep breaths in between his tantrums. It’s the only way she’d have stuck around for this long.
“What do you do around here when you’re not answering to Ted’s every whim?”
“There are a few good bars now. Some rooftop spots. Pilates in the park on Sundays. And a couple of restaurants that actually serve decent food.”
“Rooftops? In Dawson’s Ridge? Look at this town getting boujee.”
She grins. “It’s no Sydney Harbour, but it’s not bad.”
“Want to show me around tonight? I literally know no one anymore. All my high school friends bolted years ago. I guess congratulations are in order—and we can celebrate” I put together my best warm smile and deliver the lines on a laugh.
Shelley laughs back with me. “I was going to have a quiet night in with Netflix…but what are we celebrating?”
“Perfect, you are becoming my new Dawson’s bff. This’ll be even more exciting. Let me guess—you’re a red wine girl?”
“Pinot noir,” she says, smirking.
“Knew it. I’ll bring the sass, you bring the Pinot, and we’ll traumatise the locals together.”
