Five hours later, Chloe had well and truly partied to the satisfaction of both Julia and Jesse. She had taken part in a very enthusiastic Nutbush with a couple of bemused local tradies, eaten enough schnitzel to last her a week, and watched Jesse convince a duo of rather stunning Norwegian backpackers to give him their phone numbers.
But enough was enough. It was just after midnight, and Chloe was too old – and too tired – for anymore.
“Come on, just one more round,” Jesse pleaded. “We could even sneak off to Thelema; that place goes off on a Friday night. Kelly won’t find out!”
Thelema was the new – and considerably more trendy – bar in Crowley Lake, and Kelly was famously involved in a silent cold war with the owner.
“I need to go home,” Chloe insisted, picking up her bag and rising rather unsteadily to her feet. “Seriously, I don’t have your capacity for this stuff, Jesse.”
“I hate to say it, but Chloe’s right,” Julia scrunched up her face. “I’m taking a tour group through the National Park at eleven, and I don’t want to reek of booze.”
“You’ve got that shifter metabolism. You could do a few more rounds! And come on Chlo, it’s your birthday!”
“I love you, and you’re a wonderful brother, but I am going home. To bed,” Chloe said decisively, wrapping her arms around Jesse. “Thank you for tonight.”
“You won’t even get the full value of your present,” Jesse grumbled. “That hangover cure potion could get you ready for a full day of work after a night drinking with druids. Don’t waste it tomorrow, okay?”
“I’ll keep it in the fridge,” Chloe said. “For when I really need it.”
“Fine,” Jesse sighed. “I might stay for a few more. Ingrid and Sofia are fascinated by the legends about magic in these parts, if you know what I mean.” He winked.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to use magic to get laid,” Chloe gave him a pained look.
“Don’t ask me to make promises you know I can’t keep,” Jesse said. “See you later, Chlo!”
Chloe watched as her brother sauntered back up to the bar to the apparent delight of the two very tall and extremely blonde women who were looking at the Akubra hats like they were a piece of primitive local artwork. Chloe supposed they were.
“I’ll walk you home,” Julia said, handing Chloe her coat. “Okay?”
“Thank you,” Chloe said, gratefully taking her friend’s offered arm. Her high heeled boots seemed a lot less sturdy than they had at the beginning of the evening.
They pushed open the door, and a bitter rush of cold air met them, making Chloe shrink back against it.
“It’s freezing,” she grumbled.
“But no snow,” Julia pointed out.
“True,” Chloe said. “Thank you for tonight. And my present. And for being such an amazing friend.”
“You’re welcome for all of the above,” Julia gave her a crooked smile. “You deserve it, you know. Sometimes it’s important to take a moment to appreciate your success, not just always rush on to the next big achievement.”
“I do!” Chloe said, but she knew it was a lie even as the words left her lips. “Well, kind of, anyway. I mean, I know I’m successful. Well, reasonably so. But there’s so much more I could be—”
“This is exactly what I mean,” Julia prodded her with an icy finger, and Chloe flinched back. “You just need to stop sometimes and enjoy things.”
“I’ll try,” Chloe really hoped Julia wouldn’t hold her to that. She was too busy to sit around and smell the roses. If she liked roses, which she didn’t. There were plenty of flowers equally pretty, better smelling, and that didn’t want to stab you when you picked them. Stupid roses.
Almost by sheer force of habit, Chloe fumbled her phone from her coat pocket. With bluing fingers, she swiped over the screen to bring up her work emails. There were a couple of contracts to review, a very unexciting offer to trial some new accounting software with a 30-day money-back guarantee and…
“This guy wants a “grand residence” to move into next week? He’s got to be joking!” Chloe made a sound of utter contempt.
Julia grabbed the phone from her and held it aloft. “What did I say about no work talk on your birthday? I’ve got a good mind to confiscate this.”
“Please don’t,” Chloe reached for the phone. “I’m sorry, I’ll be good! I’ll…”
“Be exactly who you are,” Julia handed her back the phone. “You’d better be careful if you send a reply, you don’t want any drunk finger fumbles.”
“I won’t,” Chloe said, looking at the message more closely. “But he’s got to be nuts, I’m a real estate agent, not a bloody miracle worker, and I can’t—” She stopped again. “Oh.”
“What?” Julia stopped walking, hands on her hips. “What is it, Chloe? We’re almost at your place!”
“The budget is…” Chloe let out a low whistle. “If that’s what he can afford to pay, maybe I can get him a grand residence by next week.”
“Ugh, just what this place needs,” Julia grumbled. “Another rich city guy. I bet he drives a Tesla and will whine that this place doesn’t have high-speed internet.”
“Probably,” Chloe said. “But if I can get him a place, you and I could be having pamper sessions every day for a month. The commission would be insane.”
“That’s the spirit!” Julia punched a fist in the air. “If we’re going to get these interlopers in town, milk them for all they’re worth! Who is this guy, anyway?”
“Says his name is Maxwell Davidson,” Chloe looked down at the email signature. “I think he’s American.”
“Some rich American dude who thinks all of Crowley Lake should revolve around him,” Julia rolled her eyes spectacularly as they stopped in front of the door of Crowley Lake Realty.
“I know,” Chloe said, pushing the key into the lock. “But duty calls, huh? And maybe this Maxwell guy won’t be so bad when I meet him.”
“Maybe,” Julia muttered darkly. “Maybe not.”
Chloe would just have to wait and see.