‘What?’

‘I’d like to talk to you about your contract.’

‘It’s clear,’ she said, trying to be brusque. ‘I have the right to work for you for a year, and I also have the right to walk away any time I like. Your business manager seemed to think I’d be jumping all over myself to stay, but the obligation is on your side; not mine.’

‘I’d like you to stay.’

‘Nah.’ She should be chewing gum, she decided. She didn’t have the insouciance quite right. ‘You’re pleased to be shot of me.’ Then she broke a bit-she couldn’t quite suppress the mischief. ‘Or you were until I landed you with the wedding of the century. You’re going to have to cancel on the biggest wedding we’ve seen in this place. What a shame.’

‘I can’t cancel.’

‘Come on. You can afford to lose one wedding. All that hurts is your pride. And pride doesn’t matter to you. Just look what you did to Kylie.’

‘I-’

‘Is that you, Jenny?’ Jack’s voice interrupted, and Jenny hauled herself away from the wagon and abandoned the insouciance. ‘I need to go inside. You need to go…wherever rich entrepreneurs go when they’re not messing with this town. See you later.’

‘Do you have someone out there?’ Jack called.

‘Jenny, I need to talk to you.’

‘Mrs Westmere,’ she flashed. ‘It’s Mrs Westmere, unless I can call you Guy.’

‘Of course you can call me Guy.’

‘Bring your visitor in, Jenny.’

‘Go away,’ she said.

‘I need you.’

‘You don’t need anyone. You come waltzing into town in your flash car…’

‘It’s borrowed from a friend.’

‘You borrowed a Ferrari?’ she demanded incredulously. ‘Someone just tossed you the keys of a Ferrari and said, “Have it for a few days.” Like he has one Ferrari for normal use and another to lend to friends.’

‘His other car’s an Aston Martin,’ he said apologetically. ‘And his wife drives a Jag.’