The Girl in the Yellow Vest (3 page)

‘They’re comfortable,’ had been Will’s argument. ‘And they have pockets.’

‘So do jeans.’

‘Not nearly big enough for a calculator.’

Emily’s lips twisted at the memory.

‘So tell me how did it happen, then?’ Will brought her mind back to her own relationship disaster.

‘We went out for dinner, that really nice place I’ve been wanting to go to for ages. He said he had something to tell me.’ She shut her eyes. ‘I thought he was going to propose. And instead –’ her voice wavered ‘– instead he said he wanted me to move out so he could start seeing other people.’

‘Why?’

‘He said that he felt we were stagnating and we’d been together too long and a whole host of others things I didn’t quite understand, which he summed up with the age-old line:
It’s not you. It’s me
.’

Will snorted. ‘What a chump. There’s got to be more to it.’

Out of habit, Emily opened her mouth to jump to Trent’s defence but to her dismay nothing came out. In confusion, she looked down. ‘Do you think there’s something wrong with me, Will?’

‘No.’ His tone was adamant.

‘I think Trent was right about a few things.’

Will’s brow furrowed. ‘In my experience there are very few occasions on which Trent is right. I mean, he tries but even when we were kids he used to say the dumbest things.’

‘Well, he did say that, you know, we were each other’s first love and we hadn’t really given each other a fair chance to find anyone else. He said he needed to do that before he could just settle down with me and I guess that is sort of a fair call. I mean, when you buy a car you don’t just test drive one, do you? You –’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Will snapped. ‘Did he give you that analogy too?’

Emily blushed. ‘Sort of.’

‘I’ll have a chat to him.’

‘No don’t, please!’ she responded, alarmed.

‘Okay, okay, sorry, calm down.’

She sighed. ‘When you think about it, you can’t really blame him for wanting to check what else is out there. I mean, look at me.’ Emily’s gaze returned to her reflection.

Will was horrified. ‘Are you referring to your weight again? Because if he said anything to you about that I swear to God –’

‘Calm down, Will.’ She was touched by his anger but laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him speaking. ‘He didn’t say anything. The truth is, my whole life seems to need a revamp. I’m terrible at my job, I’m slightly overweight and now I’m living with my parents again.’

‘Ouch.’ Will winced. ‘I mean, just about that last part. The weight thing is all in your head and I don’t know how you can think that you’re a bad engineer.’

‘Well, I must be because my manager has never given me anything worthwhile to do.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Will,’ she said pointedly, ‘I
count cracks
. That’s what I do. After five years of study I’m counting squiggly lines on concrete. Did you know this week I started in the basement of a twenty-seven-storey building? It was basically the parking lot and there I was with my notebook and camera and three hundred and twenty-two bays. Trust me, I
wanted
to slit my wrists.’

He grinned. ‘Okay, look, maybe you’re right. Maybe you do have a crap job. But that’s not you, that’s them. Why don’t you quit?’

‘And go where? Jobs at my level are pretty scarce right now.’ Emily put her head on her palm. ‘Do I really want to lose my boyfriend and my job all in the same month?’

‘Well,’ Will nodded decisively, ‘you’re right about one thing. Your life does need a bit of a revamp, or a fresh start. You need to get out of town and realise your potential. Why not come and work with me?’

Emily snorted. ‘Yeah, why not?’ she said sarcastically.

‘I’m serious. They’re advertising a position for a new graduate. My manager has already contacted head office about it. I could put in a good word for you.’

She could get out of town. Leave Trent behind, physically and mentally. Focus on her career. Reboot her life.

Move on.

It was exactly what she needed. She turned to him like a long-lost relation. ‘
Really
? You really think I could get a job in Queensland? With you?’

Will cleared his throat. ‘Of course.’

She jumped up and down, fisting her hands in glee.

He rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. ‘Now don’t get too excited, it’s not a done deal yet. I will have to ask first and they’ll probably want to interview you and all that. I can give you a few tips, so you know what’ll impress them.’

‘I know, I know.’ She wasn’t worried. Past experience had shown her that when Will put his mind to something he got it done, no matter what it was.

‘And there is just one other condition too.’ He looked at her sternly.

‘What’s that?’

‘No legumes!’ He held out his palm to her, indicating they should shake on it. ‘Have we got a deal?’

Emily ignored his hand and threw her arms around his neck. ‘Queensland, here I come!’

It was five to seven and already the morning had taken on the hot sticky feeling that was Queensland’s signature ambience that time of year.

Thank God for air-conditioning.

Will walked into the main office donga at Hay Point to the rush of cool bliss against his face. After pausing a few seconds to take in the state of the office, it really was all he had to be grateful for. The open-plan layout did little to contain the disorder. The desks were crowded. Workspaces overlapped. People and computers were crammed together, along with a light film of paperwork that seemed to blanket the place like snow. Drawings were pinned to the walls, and not just on noticeboards but around the windows and on cubicle walls as well. There was not an ounce of space unused. At least ten huge A3 drawing files sat on two layout tables in the centre of the room. Most of them were open. There was a bookshelf against the wall, but it was clear that the drawings were never put away and just remained permanently open for engineers to peruse on their way in and out of the office. The hooks by the door containing a bunch of dirty, yellow, high-visibility vests and hard hats seemed to indicate that this happened often. It was chaos.

Unpredictable. Stressful. He loved it.

In fact, there was really only one thing he loved more than his job.
Emily.

A dark cloud descended at the thought. It had been so simple when she was forbidden fruit. Beyond his reach . . . beyond hope.

But now Trent had stuffed up either deliberately or accidentally. He didn’t know, because his best mate still had not drawn him into his confidence. Not that he could talk. Trent would be stunned to learn that Will had feelings for Emily. He’d kept it a secret all these years.

How he rued the day he had introduced the two of them. It had been at a party. In hindsight he realised he’d been in love with her by then, only he hadn’t admitted it even to himself. At the time of course he had been with Sasha, though their relationship was deteriorating. After he met Emily, it had started to dissolve slowly like salt in water. If things had worked out the way they were supposed to, he should have broken up with Sasha and then asked Emily out. But he was too slow, too confused. Trying to appease Sasha, trying to work out how Emily felt. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Trent swooped in like an eagle that night and asked Emily out on a date.

Six months older than Will, Trent was bigger, better looking and more experienced with women. It was no wonder Emily had been swept off her feet.

Still, after he’d broken up with Sasha, he’d held out hope that their relationship would fizzle and die. Up until that point, Trent hadn’t been interested in a steady girlfriend. Like a cruel twist of fate, Em was the one to finally make him toe the line.

It had been excruciating watching them. Going on holidays together. Buying a house. Getting that damned dog, which he assumed Trent must still have, as Em had not mentioned it.

Every milestone was like one more nail in the coffin that he’d built for his love.

They had all been friends for so long now. Too long to just declare himself.

He stood to lose two friendships, not just one. If he was going to make a play for Emily after all this time, he was going to have to do it very carefully, diplomatically and slowly.

And he was afraid,
very afraid
, that he had already made a critical mistake.

‘Hey, Boy Scout, you’re back,’ the man at the desk next to his stated quite unnecessarily.

‘Wow,’ Will grinned. ‘Can’t get anything past you.’

The man everyone called Nova spun around in his chair, loose limbed and lanky, a grey-blond fringe brushing his eyebrows. He was fifty at least, but acted much younger. ‘How was the big smoke?’

‘Eventful.’ He chucked his backpack under his desk and turned his computer on. The whir of the clunky motor gave no ease to his rattled brain. He shouldn’t have made promises to Emily, promises he didn’t know he could keep. His mind immediately pictured her waiting by the phone in anticipation for his call, though not for the reasons he often daydreamed about. The thought of disappointing her made his gut clench. She never directly asked anyone for help, but he knew this time she was really counting on him.

Emily needed a fresh start, a new lease on life. And to get it for her he was going to have to make a deal with the devil.

His fingers went into his hair, curled into fists and pulled at the roots. Will was good at a lot of things. Maths. Science. Finding cost-effective workable solutions to difficult problems. But confrontation was not his strong suit.

Everyone had a nickname on this site. He was called Boy Scout because he was always trying to please. Besides that, he was also considered the new kid on the block, the inexperienced engineer who had a lot to learn. Nova’s real name was Joshua but Will had never heard him called that. Nova was his name, short for Casanova, because he was such a gun with the local ladies. Not that there were many. This project was situated on a deserted beach right on the edge of nowhere. To Will it signified beauty and hardship, pain and paradise. The wharf in all its magnificence could not compete with the splendour nature wrought on this coast. The Great Barrier Reef was just one natural wonder on their doorstep.

Another natural wonder in the area was their project manager. The man definitely incited awe if not admiration. He was the one person on site who didn’t know his own nickname. Or at least no one thought he did, for his employees never said it to his face. They were all pretty much too intimidated to do or say anything much to their boss’s face. Those heavy-lidded eyes of his were always so utterly
bored
.

But appearances were deceiving.

Mark Crawford might look like he was half asleep but he had the personality of a Venus flytrap. If you so much as twitched in the wrong direction, you would shortly find yourself swallowed whole. He enjoyed both the suffering and the torture of his subordinates. And Will had never observed him let the opportunity for either to pass him by. He was ruthless and unforgiving, and treated his men more like slaves than employees.

That was why they called him Caesar.

And now you’re going to ask him for a favour. On what planet did you ever think this was going to work?

Will’s computer pinged as he opened his inbox. Two hundred and twenty-nine emails had come in since he’d been on R and R. He swore and flicked his mouse.

‘Okay, I can’t take it any more. Spill it!’

Will jumped and then swivelled in his chair to discover that Nova was still steadily regarding him, his hands clasped lightly between his knees. ‘I’ve been watching you crash, rattle and bang in that little space of yours like a bean in a tin can.’

Despite himself, Will felt his lips curl. ‘Really?’

‘You know you have. Tell me what the problem is. Is it in my area of expertise?’

Nova was a draftsman, but that wasn’t his area of expertise. There were three things that Nova held the floor on:

a. Women

b. Booze

c. Women + booze

He had doled out many gems of knowledge and had pulled many a young welder, turner or fitter out of the doghouse.

‘You tell me this is not about a woman and I’ll call you a liar.’ The draftsman’s long nose twitched as though he had sniffed out the clue.