‘I CAN’T believe he wrote that about me!’ Mia threw the morning’s newspaper down in disgust, her grey eyes flashing with rage. ‘It’s the first real acting job I’ve had and he completely rubbishes it. My career will be over before it even starts.’
‘I wouldn’t take it too personally,’ Shelley said as she reloaded the café dishwasher. ‘Bryn Dwyer rubbishes just about everything. Did you hear him on drive-time radio yesterday? He made a complete fool of the person he was interviewing. It’s how he gets the ratings he does. You either love him or you hate him.’
‘Well, I hate him,’ Mia said with feeling. ‘I just wish I could have the chance to tell him to his arrogant, stuck-up face.’
‘Yeah, well, you never know your luck,’ Shelley said as she placed the washing powder in the compartment of the dishwasher. ‘He was in here three mornings in a row last week, each time with a different woman. You should have seen the way Tony gushed all over him as if he was royalty. I nearly puked.’
‘In here?’ Mia’s eyes began to sparkle with hope. ‘Bryn Dwyer?’
Shelley straightened from the dishwasher. ‘Listen, Mia, just remember you’ve only just started and Tony only gave you the job in the first place because I put in such a good word for you. If you so much as—’
‘One cappuccino and a double decaf latte on table seven.’ Tony Pretelli, the café owner, slapped the order on the counter and scooped up a plate of raisin toast on his way past. ‘And make it snappy. Our favourite celebrity is here again this morning.’
‘Uh-oh,’ Shelley said as she took a quick peek over the counter.
‘Who is it?’ Mia asked as she peered over Shelley’s shoulder. She whistled through her teeth when she caught a glimpse of a tall man with dark brown shiny hair and broad shoulders sitting chatting to an attractive brunette. ‘Well, I’ll be damned.’
Shelley grabbed her by the arm. ‘Don’t even think about it, Mia. You know what Tony’s like. He’ll fire you on the spot if you do anything to upset a customer, celebrity or not.’
Mia unpeeled the waitress’s fingers and, giving her a sugar-sweet smile, reached for the coffees the barista on duty had just made. ‘I think I’ll risk it just this once. Anyway, it will be worth it to get back at that pompous jerk for giving me such a bad review.’
Shelley winced as Mia swept past with the coffees. ‘I don’t think I can watch this…’
Mia sauntered up to the table where Bryn Dwyer was seated with his back to her. It was a very broad back, she couldn’t help noticing, and even though he was wearing a pale blue business shirt she could see the bunching of well-developed muscles through the expensive fabric. His shirt cuffs were rolled up at the wrists, revealing tanned forearms sprinkled with dark masculine hair, and an expensive silver watch on his left wrist. His hair was neither long nor short or straight or curly but somewhere in between, and was styled in a casual manner that suggested his long, tanned fingers had been used as its latest combing tool.
She didn’t need to see his face; it had been splashed on the cover of just about every women’s magazine for the past month as for the second year in a row he had been awarded the Bachelor of the Year title. His prime-time radio slot and popular weekly column in a Sydney broadsheet gave him the sort of fame and fortune most people only ever dreamed of, but even without that, he was a multimillionaire from some clever property investments he’d made all before he’d hit thirty-two or -three years or so ago.