Once a Rebel.... Nikki Logan

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      A few? Did that mean he was going to honour his promise? But she wasn’t ready to trust him yet. ‘What are you going to do, work your way down the list?’

      ‘The top is as good a place to start as any.’

      Sorrow welled up inside, from somewhere deep and dark. ‘Well, that should take you about a fortnight, then.’

      This time the pause was laden with confusion. His. That was fair enough; she herself barely understood the bitterness creeping through her voice. ‘I thought that we could team up for a few of them,’ he persevered. ‘Two birds, one stone kind of thing.’

      Because this was such a massive inconvenience? ‘The list is not really a team sport …’

      ‘I enjoyed the dolphins.’ A single strand of pleasure twisted through the darkness at his admission. ‘The experience I would have had on my own was different to the one I had with you there.’

      That was certainly true. ‘You would have ended up in a fist-fight with the volunteer.’

      ‘He was smug. And showing off for your benefit.’

      ‘He was passionate. And proud of the work they do. You belittled him.’

      ‘I tested him. Big difference.’

      Why did that surprise her? He’d always been interested in breaking people down to see what made them tick. ‘Not to the person on the receiving end.’

      That shut him up. For almost half a minute.

      ‘So, is that a no to partnering up? I already have reservations.’

      She hated doing this by phone. It was all too easy to imagine vulnerability in his tone. If she was looking him in the eye he’d never get away with that. But his tone changed hers. She sighed. ‘Tickets to what?’

      ‘The symphony.’

      ‘The Australian Symphony doesn’t have Beethoven on their line-up for this year.’ She’d already checked.

      ‘Not the ASO. The Berlin Philharmonic. They’re in town for a limited season. Three concerts.’

      ‘Those tickets were expensive.’ She’d checked that, too.

      ‘So?’

      ‘So throwing money at it is a fast way to get the list out of the way.’ And off your conscience.

      ‘Really? I suppose you walked to Antarctica, then?’

      ‘No. I took a work opportunity. There was a media call to promote the hundredth anniversary of the end of Scott’s expedition and I qualified. The only thing I paid for was my thermals.’

      ‘Nice junket,’ he snorted.

      ‘Sure. If you don’t count all the freezing-your-butt-off and hauling yourself up rope nets on and off an ice-breaker.’ That had nearly killed her. Although it had helped her get fit preparing for it.

      ‘So how were you planning on getting to Everest without money?’

      She tossed back her hair. Maybe it would translate in her voice. ‘I don’t know. Work on a cruise ship to earn passage. Then make my way to Kathmandu by bike.’

      She was nothing if not an idealist.

      ‘It would take a lifetime to do the list that way.’

      She stared at the wall. Suddenly something important clicked into place for her. Something she’d been missing.

      ‘“Full effort is full victory”,’ she murmured. Satisfaction lay in the effort, not the attainment. Gandhi knew it. It was just a pity Hayden—the student of human nature—had forgotten what that felt like.

      ‘What?’

      She refocused. ‘The list was supposed to be about honouring my mother’s memory. Buying your way down the list does the opposite.’ Almost worse than doing nothing at all.

      His pause grew dangerous. ‘So, now you don’t want me doing the list?’

      I want you to care. And she had no idea why that was so important to her. ‘Not if it means you put in the minimal amount of effort or outsource it to someone to make you up an itinerary.’

      Silence descended as he considered that.

      ‘What if I didn’t pay for the tickets?’

      She blinked. ‘Then I assume you’ll be arraigned for theft when the curtain rises.’

      ‘Ha ha. I meant that I contra’d them. Does that change how you feel?’

      Did it? Last week, if someone had given her a month off work and a cashed-up credit card she would have zoomed through the list knocking things off, too. But she felt sure that there’d be no sense of achievement. Not like the year of preparation for the marathon, or learning to horse-ride well enough to tackle the Snowy Mountains, or working for months on the Antarctica proposal and her ice fitness.

      Could she even enjoy the victory if it came so easily?

      ‘Using your influence is like using your money—’

      ‘It wasn’t influence. I bartered a friend for the tickets. Good old fashioned labour.’

      Labour? Those hands? ‘What for?’

      ‘I give you my word it’s nothing that wouldn’t honour the intent of Carol’s list.’

      She turned it over in her mind. And over. And then looked under it and really tried very hard to find something reasonable to object to. But her curiosity was piqued, too. What exactly did one trade for tickets to a performance that exclusive?

      ‘Front row?’ Okay, now she was just picking a fight.

      ‘Centre.’

      ‘When?’ Did he just assume she’d be available?

      ‘Tuesday night.’

      Damn. She was.

      Somehow it being an evening thing made it feel more like a date than a business arrangement. Which was ridiculous. Two birds, one stone, he’d said. The deal was made. The tickets arranged. Why shouldn’t she benefit from whatever hard manual labour he was going to have to undertake to pay them off?

      She sighed. ‘Okay. I’ll see you then.’

      ‘Really?’

      Lucky he couldn’t see her, because she completely failed to hide the tiny smile that broke at the surprise in his voice. Too cool for school was kind of his thing back when she used to watch him from the stairs. It was nice to know that someone who had been that jaded at nineteen was still capable of surprise at thirty.

      ‘Really.’

      ‘Great.’ СКАЧАТЬ