Piper threw Mal’s dirty clothes into the washer. On autopilot, she grabbed the detergent and softener and poured them into the drawer, before turning the dial to the setting she needed. She stabbed the button to start the cycle and leaned back against the machine. She put a hand to her face, checking that it was indeed as hot as it felt. She wasn’t wrong—she was burning. It was partly from embarrassment at catching Mal semi-naked, but mostly it was to do with the realization that she had a crush on him. Not just a ‘fan with a crush on their favorite singer’ kind of thing. Something more than that. She needed to talk to someone about it.

She ran up to her room and unearthed her phone from the bedside table. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she texted Bronte to see if her friend was available for lunch. After a quick-fire text conversation, they arranged to meet shortly after five when Bronte finished work. Knowing that she couldn’t face Mal, at least until she’d spoken through her feelings with someone, she decided that the best course of action would be to hide out somewhere for the rest of the day. She left a note on the kitchen table for Mal, saying that she had gone out and would be back later, but she’d left something for lunch in the refrigerator. It took her three attempts at the note. Her original missive had a kiss at the end next to her name. The second one had crossings out and spelling mistakes. She almost felt like writing ‘Gone out, lunch in refrigerator, back for dinner’, although that felt like something she would have said to her mother when she was in high school. She explained herself as best she could, gathered her bag and sunglasses, and left the house.

The walk into the town centre did a lot to calm her. Piper breathed in the clean air and enjoyed her surroundings. As she headed along the seafront, she thought she caught sight of Mal, bent over and breathing heavily near Batten Down The Hashes. Worried that he might spot her, she dashed into the closest shop, not knowing where she had ended up until a skinny woman with her arms covered in tattoos approached her.

“Can I help you?”

Piper turned and came face to face with a tall, skinny woman with short cropped peroxide hair. As their eyes met, Piper heard a distant drone—a tattoo gun—and a couple of heavily inked guys were also staring at her.

“Um, gosh, I…” Piper’s eyes darted outside again. It seemed that Mal had gone. She could only hope that he was on the way home and wasn’t waiting a little way along the sidewalk.

“Did you want to schedule some work?” the woman asked. Her eyes skimmed over Piper’s shorts and T-shirt and clearly unadorned limbs.

Piper had never been brave enough to brand herself. She did like tattoos, but considered herself too straight to ever have one. “Sorry, no, I just came in here to avoid someone.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Sorry,” Piper said again. When she was sure the coast was clear, she headed back out into the street.

It was still a little while before she was due to meet Bronte, and Piper decided that she’d pretend to be a tourist. She spent several hours pottering about the Bay, looking around the pirate museum and art gallery before checking out the souvenir shop. As she browsed, she imagined that one day they would be selling her jewelry, and she envisaged the display case it would be in, the way she would have it laid out to show it off best, the prices she could charge…

“Is there anything I can specifically help you with?”

For the second time that afternoon, Piper was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The gentleman that owned the shop had completely dismissed her when she had been looking for a job, and now he was approaching her as a customer. She remembered he hadn’t been looking for staff, but maybe he was open to new products to sell.

“Do you accept items from local designers?” she asked. The words came out strongly, making her sound braver than she felt. “Jewelry in particular.”

“For us to sell on your behalf?” His nose wrinkled.

Piper nodded. “Yes. There would be a commission, obviously, but we could work something out.”

“Do you have anything with you?”

As it had been a spur of the moment decision to ask about sales, Piper was unprepared. The only thing she had was a couple of photographs on her phone of some old designs. She fumbled in her bag. “I can probably find pictures, if you give me a minute.”

The man swept away on his heel. “If you were planning a pitch, you should have been more prepared. I don’t have time for this now.” He made a beeline for an elderly couple, who looked as if they were planning to spend heaps of money.

Deflated, Piper left the shop. In a way, she knew he was right—just turning up at a shop with a vague idea was no way to come across as a competent, believable businesswoman. She’d have to work on that. She made her way along the street, past the amusement park and Providence Park, past the statue of Destiny and her lover. Her thoughts turned to Mal again. She needed to talk to Bronte.

Thankfully, her friend was already waiting at a table outside the Wilde Pirate. Bronte looked up from her phone and waved.

“I was just texting you to see what you wanted to drink,” she called.

“My treat. What do you want?”

“Maybe a white wine and soda?”

Piper went to the bar and ordered. She chatted briefly with Conor Callaghan and asked how Josh was getting on. She was pleased to note that he wasn’t on shift that evening; the last thing she needed was her brother listening in on a conversation about her possible feelings for Mal Colten. She took the drinks to the table and placed the glass down in front of Bronte. Piper took a slug of her own drink—wine without the soda—and exhaled loudly.

“What’s going on?” Bronte cut straight to it.

Piper pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. “I think I might have a crush on my employer…”

“You have what?”

Just saying the words out loud seemed to cement the idea in Piper’s head. “Obviously you knew about the job. Well, Mal wasn’t meant to be there but apparently he cancelled the tour and came home early.”

Bronte nodded. “Yeah, I read something about that on TMZ. People certainly aren’t happy.”

“I invited Josh, Seb, and Milla over for dinner last night and all of a sudden he just turned up. He threw my brother and his friends out, but then apologized to me this morning by making breakfast.”

Bronte’s eyebrows shot up. “He made you breakfast?”

“By that, I mean he put stuff on the table; it wasn’t like a great show of culinary excellence or anything. We talked and I offered to leave, but he persuaded me to stay.” Piper took another sip of her wine. “Then I went to start on chores and went to get his laundry—”

“Oh my God, you get to do his laundry!” Bronte couldn’t help but laugh.

“But then I went into his bedroom and he was just standing there in his underwear.”

This time Bronte reached for her drink, taking a few quick sips. “Was it worth it?”

Piper sighed dreamily as she remembered Mal’s muscled chest and taut abs. “Absolutely.”

“What are you going to do? I know he split up from that blogger chick a while back.”

Describing Cora Appleby as ‘that blogger chick’ was an understatement, and Piper paled in comparison. “He’s not going to be interested in someone like me!”

“Why not? You’re gorgeous, intelligent, driven…”

Piper thought back to her encounter in the souvenir shop and silently disagreed with the third part. “I’m just his house sitter, nothing else. Maybe I shouldn’t even be that; maybe I should quit.”

Bronte shook her head. “Geez, Piper, you’ve been there a whole day and already you want to leave. Think about it, you’ve got a great place to live, you can decide what to do with your life, and you’ve got a hot rock star who will be waiting desperately for your next meal.” She pinched Piper’s arm. “What more could you ask for?”