The Protea Boys Read Online Free Page B
Hillary’s eyes made Georgie smile for the first time that morning.
“But we’ll see,” he said, making a big deal of wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
Hillary linked arms with Georgie. “Carl has a heart of gold, but really he is getting a bit long in the tooth, especially after his heart attack, and I’m certain I can get better value for my hard-earned dollar elsewhere.” She nodded her head emphatically and heaved a sigh. “The Protea Boys to the rescue. I really hope we can pull this off.”
Georgie glanced around with interest. She could easily guess the amount of work already put into the place.
“There’s where I want the vegetable garden built.” Hillary sketched an arc with her arm toward the back of the house. “I can hardly advertise homegrown, organic vegetables for the table if I haven’t got a vegetable garden. Come to think of it, I haven’t got a table yet either.” She giggled at her own joke. “Come on, enough of my problems. Let’s find a cup of coffee, and you can tell me how things are going with you and your proteas.”
***
“So all in all,” finished Georgie before taking a final sip of her coffee, “the last couple of days have been a bit of a mixture, some ups and some downs. I know there’s a market for these flowers. Mum and Dad made a good living out of them. I just wish I hadn’t let the farm go to wrack and ruin while I was in Sydney.” She rocked back on the chair and sighed. “Everyone just falls in love with the proteas as soon as they see them. The guesthouse was wonderful, and the other two B&Bs said they’d give it a go. Except for the restaurant. That’s just another story altogether—bloody man. Do you know what he said? He said he thought roses were more my style—pftt. I blushed and stammered like some idiotic schoolgirl.”
“So he was attractive, was he?” Hillary’s words cut like a knife straight to the point.
Georgie tried to cover the reddening of her face by looking out over the half-built garden. She wanted to tramp on her wayward thoughts and push the memory of his predatory green eyes aside. “No. He was not.” The pause lengthened, and she fanned her face. The coffee had made her so hot. “Well, yes... I suppose so...a little bit, but absolutely not what I need right now. Far too arrogant.”
If Hillary would just stop looking at her so intently, she’d be able to get rid of the heat making her cheeks so red. “What I need right now—and for that matter, so do you—is a handyman, someone who can do all those things around the place I just haven’t got time for. Take out the dead bushes, do the pruning, clean up between the rows of flowers.” She finished, pleased with the determined note in her voice.
“And move my mulch and my sandstone blocks,” said Hillary, “and build my vegetable garden. Told you. We need the Protea Boys.”
Chapter Five
The never-ending list of jobs just grew and grew, and Georgie doubted she’d ever get on top of it. A haze of proteas, spreadsheets, and ridiculous fantasies filled her week. She fell into bed every night exhausted, her heavy sleep plagued by dreams of canvas tents spread under a canopy of acacia trees, moonlit dinners reverberating to the night sounds of the bush, and always the presence of a man whose tawny green eyes were the only feature she could drag into focus. Strangely, she woke refreshed and relished the hard physical work outside. She received phone calls from the growers’ markets, and she delivered bucketloads of proteas to the distributor. Much to her delight, she also received a hefty transfer into her bank account. There were four answers to the advertisement, and then Hillary called to say she had scheduled all the interviews for Saturday morning.
***
“Hiya. I’m here. Can I come in?” Hillary’s cheerful voice resounded through the house.
“I’m in the office.” Georgie pushed the pile of paperwork to one side and closed down the computer
“But we’ll see,” he said, making a big deal of wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
Hillary linked arms with Georgie. “Carl has a heart of gold, but really he is getting a bit long in the tooth, especially after his heart attack, and I’m certain I can get better value for my hard-earned dollar elsewhere.” She nodded her head emphatically and heaved a sigh. “The Protea Boys to the rescue. I really hope we can pull this off.”
Georgie glanced around with interest. She could easily guess the amount of work already put into the place.
“There’s where I want the vegetable garden built.” Hillary sketched an arc with her arm toward the back of the house. “I can hardly advertise homegrown, organic vegetables for the table if I haven’t got a vegetable garden. Come to think of it, I haven’t got a table yet either.” She giggled at her own joke. “Come on, enough of my problems. Let’s find a cup of coffee, and you can tell me how things are going with you and your proteas.”
***
“So all in all,” finished Georgie before taking a final sip of her coffee, “the last couple of days have been a bit of a mixture, some ups and some downs. I know there’s a market for these flowers. Mum and Dad made a good living out of them. I just wish I hadn’t let the farm go to wrack and ruin while I was in Sydney.” She rocked back on the chair and sighed. “Everyone just falls in love with the proteas as soon as they see them. The guesthouse was wonderful, and the other two B&Bs said they’d give it a go. Except for the restaurant. That’s just another story altogether—bloody man. Do you know what he said? He said he thought roses were more my style—pftt. I blushed and stammered like some idiotic schoolgirl.”
“So he was attractive, was he?” Hillary’s words cut like a knife straight to the point.
Georgie tried to cover the reddening of her face by looking out over the half-built garden. She wanted to tramp on her wayward thoughts and push the memory of his predatory green eyes aside. “No. He was not.” The pause lengthened, and she fanned her face. The coffee had made her so hot. “Well, yes... I suppose so...a little bit, but absolutely not what I need right now. Far too arrogant.”
If Hillary would just stop looking at her so intently, she’d be able to get rid of the heat making her cheeks so red. “What I need right now—and for that matter, so do you—is a handyman, someone who can do all those things around the place I just haven’t got time for. Take out the dead bushes, do the pruning, clean up between the rows of flowers.” She finished, pleased with the determined note in her voice.
“And move my mulch and my sandstone blocks,” said Hillary, “and build my vegetable garden. Told you. We need the Protea Boys.”
Chapter Five
The never-ending list of jobs just grew and grew, and Georgie doubted she’d ever get on top of it. A haze of proteas, spreadsheets, and ridiculous fantasies filled her week. She fell into bed every night exhausted, her heavy sleep plagued by dreams of canvas tents spread under a canopy of acacia trees, moonlit dinners reverberating to the night sounds of the bush, and always the presence of a man whose tawny green eyes were the only feature she could drag into focus. Strangely, she woke refreshed and relished the hard physical work outside. She received phone calls from the growers’ markets, and she delivered bucketloads of proteas to the distributor. Much to her delight, she also received a hefty transfer into her bank account. There were four answers to the advertisement, and then Hillary called to say she had scheduled all the interviews for Saturday morning.
***
“Hiya. I’m here. Can I come in?” Hillary’s cheerful voice resounded through the house.
“I’m in the office.” Georgie pushed the pile of paperwork to one side and closed down the computer
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