I put my arm around her and we walk out through the door. “It will be okay. I will call you tomorrow and we will work it out.”
We walk out and take our place next to Brielle’s new boss. My eyes flicker back to Mr. Masters. He’s about forty, immaculately dressed, and kind of attractive. His hair is dark with a sprinkling of silver. I swallow nervously as my eyes glance to Brielle who is also summing up her new house companion. “Did you have a good trip?” Mr. Masters questions as he looks down at Brielle.
“Yes, thanks,” she whispers. “Thank you for picking us up.”
He nods curtly.
I look to the ground to hide my smile. This is hilarious. I’ve never seen her so out of her comfort zone.
“Emerson,” A male voice calls from behind, and when I turn, I realise it’s Mark.
“Hello.” I smile nervously.
He kisses me on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late.” He turns to Brielle. “You must be Brielle?”
“Yes.” She smiles before she gestures to Mr. Masters. “And this is…” She hesitates, obviously not knowing what to introduce her new employer as.
“Julian Masters,” he announces sternly for her as he takes Mark in a firm handshake.
Brielle and I fake smiles to each other. This is so damn awkward.
Mark is blonde and handsome. His hair is neat, he’s dressed nicely, and… what else? Oh, I know… Short. He is really, really short – so much shorter than I imagined. I am not completely sure of whether it’s the jet lag or the let down of my imagination running away with me but I really thought I was going to see fireworks the instant I met him.
Guess not.
Hmm.
Finally, after ten minutes of uncomfortable silence, Brielle spots her bag as it comes out on the turnstile. “That’s my bag.” She points to her luggage coming out underneath the rubber flaps.
Julian Masters raises an eyebrow. “The one with the pink ribbon?” he asks dryly.
Brielle nods and drops her head in shame, and I want to hoot with laughter. I told her the pink satin ribbon looked ridiculous and not to tie it on the handle, but she insisted it was a good I will easily find my bag tactic and that was the only color ribbon she’d had. Her luggage comes around and he aggressively grabs it from the turnstile and turns to her. “The car is this way.” He gestures to the right.
She nods nervously. He turns back to me and shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Emerson.”
I smile. “Likewise. Please look after my friend,” I reply as my eyes flick to Brielle. She looks so scared, I think she might run over water to get back to Australia any minute now.
He walks off, wheeling her baggage behind him, and she turns to cuddle me.
“This is shit,” she whispers.
I smile into her hair as she grips me tight. “It will be fine. He’s probably really nice.”
“He doesn’t look nice,” she murmurs as she pulls out of my grip.
“Yeah, I agree. He looks like a tool,” Mark adds as his eyes follow Julian across the airport.
My eyes flick to Mark in annoyance. He is not a part of this conversation and I’m trying to sweeten the deal here. Shut up! Is he not aware that I have been in a plane for twenty-four hours and have jetlag with a bad case of don’t bloody mess with me?
“Mark, look after my friend, please.” Brielle smiles.
He smiles and rubs his chest like a stupid gorilla. “Oh, I intend to.”
I frown and he winks cheekily at me. Hmm. My disturbed eyes meet Brielle’s and this time it’s her who is smirking at my situation. We both look across the airport and see Julian Masters looking back impatiently for Brielle.
“I better go.” She frowns.
I nod. “I will get my phone sorted and then call you tomorrow. You have my apartment details if you need me beforehand.”
“I will probably turn up in an hour. Tell your room mates I’m coming in case I need a key,” she whispers.
“Go,” I mouth. She nods and tentatively walks over to her new boss, and they continue off into the distance together, soon disappearing from my sight. My eyes fall back to Mark and then over to the luggage carousel. “There it is, that one.” I point to my suitcase as I go to retrieve it.
“Stand back and let a man do his job,” Mark announces.
I feel the womens’ lib hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. “I can lift a suitcase,” I mutter with a frown. Damn, this jetlag is making me bitchy.
He laughs heartily. “That’s why you have me. I’m going to look after you for this entire trip.”
I fake a smile. Oh, great. Lucky me.
* * *
“Its on the third floor,” Mark tells me as he unlocks the bottom front door of my new apartment block. The building is old and smells musty.
I feel the apprehension swirl in my stomach.
We walk up the flights of stairs in silence until we get to number fourteen and he unlocks the door, holding it open for me. I peer in like a curious child.
“It’s a nice apartment.” He smiles.