“If I had breath, I certainly would be,” Maxwell said. “You’re very fit. I mean, I knew that because you’re… Well, you look like you keep fit, I suppose.”
Chloe wasn’t sure if Maxwell could see her cheeks colouring from behind the torch’s beam. “I go running most days,” she said. “It’s good for keeping my stress levels in check.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, it works.”
“Thanks,” Chloe’s chest felt oddly tight. He was definitely complimenting her. And did she detect just a hint of flirting?
“I think this counts as an alpine meadow,” Maxwell said, pointing ahead.
Chloe shone her torch forwards. “Definitely does. Now, all we have to do is find this flower thing. I’ll look with the torch, you…”
“Use my unholy powers as a child of the night?”
“Whatever works for you,” Chloe suppressed a grin.
She wasn’t grinning twenty minutes later, though, as she stooped low over another disappointingly non-violet Phebalium. “Come on, there has to be one of these little buggers around here!”
“They’re clearly hiding from us, just to be annoying,” Maxwell said, sounding as irritated as she felt.
Chloe made a sound that wasn’t very ladylike in response.
“So, does your boyfriend know about all this?” Maxwell asked after a moment. “You know, the curse and sneaking into a National Park in the middle of the night with a strange man who may or may not be undead?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Chloe was surprised by his assumption. “I don’t have time.”
“Seriously? I would have thought you’d have some guy in a suit and tie waiting for you at home.”
“Nope,” Chloe said, stooping to poke at another patch of Wallaby Grass. “Like I said, I’m busy. I’m trying to build my business. And it’s growing nicely. Julia always tells me I need to hire more staff to have more time for…other things. But I don’t want to.”
“Julia sounds very wise,” Maxwell said, and Chloe could see him silhouetted in the torchlight. He was actually on his hands and knees, examining a clump of shrubs. “You’re definitely a workaholic.”
“If you grew up like I did, you would be too,” Chloe said, speaking before she could think about whether or not it was wise to share this with him. Somehow, the darkness made it too easy to say things she otherwise would keep hidden.
“What, your parents are workaholics too?” Maxwell asked. “Instilled you with the value of hard work and being a success?”
“The opposite, actually,” Chloe said, the words tumbling out. “My parents avoided anything that even smelled like work. My dad always said he wanted to write a novel, which mostly meant we had a load of junky typewriters in the house, and my mum was always finding herself at spiritual retreats.”
“Living the life of leisure, then?” Maxwell said. “Well, I suppose if you can afford it—”
“We couldn’t,” Chloe said, her cheeks burning in the darkness. “We moved a lot when they got behind on the rent. We even lived in a caravan in someone’s yard with no heating and an outside toilet for two years. The worst thing was school, though. I never had the right uniform or proper books or pens. Sometimes the teachers would feel sorry for me and give me stuff. They’d pretend they had bought too much, but I knew the truth. I don’t know what was worse; being teased or being pitied.”
“Bloody hell,” Maxwell sounded taken aback. “I had no idea that you went through that.”
“I don’t like to talk about it,” Chloe said quietly. “But that’s why I need to keep focused on my career. I don’t want my life to ever be like that again. And it won’t be. I’ll make sure of it.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Maxwell said. Suddenly he was close to her again, looking at her in the torchlight with a strange expression. Not pitying – she couldn’t take that. It was something like respect. “You should be proud of what you’ve achieved, Chloe. I mean, you’re pretty damn impressive.”
And why did that make Chloe’s stomach flop around like a fish pulled abruptly from the lake?
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Thank you for telling me,” Maxwell said. “My friends, back in the States… Well, we don’t exactly talk much about things that matter.”
“That’s a shame,” Chloe said, frowning. “You should have people in your life that you can have a serious conversation with.”
Maxwell made a noise that Chloe couldn’t identify. “I did, once,” he said, and Chloe saw, in the torchlight, that he put his hand over his chest as he said it. Clearly an unconscious gesture. “But when you’ve been around as long as I have, seen people come and go so much, I suppose it makes you… Well, you don’t want to get too close to anyone.”
“I had never thought about that part of being immortal,” Chloe’s tone was serious now. There was a sadness about Maxwell that she hadn’t seen before, and she almost wanted to hug him, except that would be completely inappropriate.
“It’s not something you know until you experience it,” Maxwell said, and then he shook his head. “So, you’re too busy building your career for a boyfriend. What’s the next step for Chloe Bloom, Real Estate Agent Extraordinaire?”
Chloe stifled a laugh. “I’m hardly that,” she protested. “I’m hoping to get more into the development side of things, build up some investment properties… If I win this award next month, that will open up a lot of opportunities.”
“What award? Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll win.”
“Hardly,” Chloe scoffed. “It’s Central West Young Small Businessperson of the Year. I mean, the other candidates are amazing, so it’s really just an honour to be nominated, so—”
“Well, I don’t know much about small business, but if they choose the hardest working young businessperson, you’ll get it for sure. You’ll be popping the champagne before you know it,” Maxwell said, as though he was utterly confident of this.
“If we break the curse, maybe,” Chloe said. “I feel like having poisonous spines all over my face might be a disadvantage.”