Can You Keep a Secret? by Caroline Overington Read Free Book Online Page A

a paper bag with cold toast and four squares of hard butter; a milk jug with Glad Wrap stretched over the top; and knives and forks, rolled up in a paper serviette.
    ‘Does this just come with the room? How do they know what I even want?’ he muttered to himself.
    ‘I ordered it,’ said Caitlin. She’d dragged a top sheet into the bathroom when Liz knocked on the door, and now she was wearing it like a toga, loose around her young bronze body.
    Colby looked up. ‘Jesus, look at you. But when?’
    ‘While you were sleeping.’
    Colby shook his head, bewildered.
    ‘You’re full of tricks,’ he said. ‘I could have sworn I didn’t let you up all night.’
    ‘I’m clever like that,’ said Caitlin, snapping her fingers. ‘Now you see me, now you don’t.’
    They sat on the bed together, Colby in his towel and Caitlin in her sheet, feeding bacon to each other with their fingers, and fighting over the last of the coffee. Then the phone rang and it was Liz’s husband, Brian, wondering when Mr Colbert would be checking out.
    ‘Not today,’ he said, ‘I need to stay another night. Can you organise that for me? That’s great. Thank you. No, just me. The other two will be leaving today. Unless you hear different from them.’
    Caitlin looked surprised. ‘But aren’t you supposed to catch the plane to Sydney today? To see the fireworks? What will you tell Robert?’
    ‘That I’ve fallen in love,’ said Colby flippantly.
    ‘Oh right, sure. Of course you have. Me too.’ Caitlin was trying to laugh it off but, quizzed, she’d have had to admit that she was falling for Colby. He was very handsome. He was also smart, and when they were alone together, funny. The sex had been great. His accent was cute. But she had to be realistic. He was ten years older, on holiday, and he lived in New York City. He’d made it pretty clear – not bluntly, and certainly not unkindly – that he was heading home.
    ‘Excellent news,’ he said, ‘we can fall in love together.’ He pushed the breakfast plates away and reached for the telephone. It was the old-fashioned kind, with a flat white receiver still connected to the base. He pressed nine for reception, and Liz said, ‘Yes?’
    ‘Can you put me through to Robert Brancato’s room?’
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘My friend, Robert Brancato. I checked in with him last night. Can you put me through to him?’
    Liz said no. ‘We don’t do that. You can dial the number from your room.’
    ‘I don’t have the number,’ said Colby.
    ‘You don’t have the number,’ repeated Liz.
    ‘No. Can you get it for me?’
    ‘We’re very busy here,’ she said, ‘it’s right on check-outtime. I’ve got two people at the counter now. You’ll have to wait.’
    Colby put the phone down. ‘Funny kind of service they have here. Like, I’m a pain in the butt for wanting the staff to do something for me.’ Ten minutes later, the phone rang, and it was Liz with the number.
    ‘Thank you very much,’ said Colby, but Liz was already gone.
    He called Robert and explained the situation: he was very sorry, but he was probably going to miss the flight to Sydney. No, no, everything was fine. He’d just decided to stay in Townsville a little longer.
    ‘So, you’ve landed yourself an Aussie sheila,’ said Robert, ‘and my guess is, it’s Daisy Duke.’
    Colby didn’t answer. He was old-fashioned that way. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.
    ‘And given that you’re not saying anything, she’s still there?’ Robert guessed.
    Colby still said nothing.
    ‘Well, good for you. But you don’t want to miss Sydney. You definitely don’t want to miss New Year’s Eve in Sydney. So, have your fun and wrap things up with Daisy and we’ll see you there tomorrow, right?’
    ‘Right,’ said Colby.
    ‘And you’ll be coming alone, right? Meaning, what happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas. Do not turn up with excess baggage.’
    ‘Right.’ Colby put down the phone.
    ‘So,