Chapter 1

The smoky dimly lit bar was huge, well organized and cramped with tables full of loud, cheerfully dressed people enjoying their "Friday night" drinks and socializing.

Apparently a popular hangout at the Sydney Hyatt, the room was a kaleidoscope of costumes and skirts that kept moving as latecomers searched for seats. Busy waiters come and go as friends mingle at the tables.

Loud noise, even without full orchestral music.

These couples on the dance floor the size of a handkerchief used the pretext of dancing to cuddle each other. Like disturbed ants, pairs are constantly moving from group to group, touching antennae to build personal bonds in the bubbling nest.

Leaning back against the bar in a quiet corner, the three men, prominent in their own company, were oblivious to the activities around them. Two workers wear white shirts and expensive, luxurious business suits. One worker, wearing jeans and an open-collared shirt, overshadowed them even though they were also burly men.

“Hey Peter, it's time for another drink. Are you going to have a beer this time or stick with the lime and soda? Be brave have a Fosters!" They addressed this bear of a man as Peter and goodnaturedly teased him about not touching alcohol.

In the furthest corner of the room sitting at a table were three attractive young women an unusual group as no men approached them. One seemed most ill at ease. The noticeable antics of the older bosses pulling their young secretaries hard against their bodies did not amuse her.

Another person, Karen Wilson, chewing on an ice cube, shouted at the red-haired woman with her. "Look at Jennifer, relax. I don't want to pay for my drinks all night!"

Her companions called her Jennifer and did everything to make her first evening with them a pleasant one.

'I hate this.' Jennifer Blake sighed. “There has to be a better way to meet people. She is not happy.

This young lawyer, recently arriving from Melbourne to head the legal department of an insurance company in Sydney, is homesick. His high academic performance did nothing to ease the pain in his heart for his usual Friday night at the farm with his mother, father and twin brother aggravating plague despite it being so. He missed the music, the warmth and the safety of his family.

"Disgusting!" His thoughts were now voiced.

"What is that?"

"I'm sorry, Karen." Jennifer replied. “The noise here is shrill. What did you say ?

"You'll get used to it. Isn't it delicious here? Aren't you happy when you come?" Karen leaned toward Jennifer but her blue eyes searched the crowd. She shook her head and pulled her bra as she spoke.

Jennifer notices her perfectly manicured nails.

She learned that Karen and Ruth, two secretaries of the insurance company, were delighted that she, as the new head of legal, had accepted their invitation. They brought her here for a supposedly relaxing drink. Of course, they hope to end the evening with dates and pray that Jennifer, who is so rigid and inflexible with men, will join the party.

“Well, I agreed to come and…” Jennifer didn't bother to continue. Karen wasn't interested in his answer and Jennifer even suspected she was listening. The idea that Karen was looking for that special someone popped into her head.

Realizing that she is out of her depth even in such shallow water, she tries to appear friendly.

"How do you keep your nails so long with all the work you do on the keyboard?" Jennifer consciously raised her voice during dinner, trying to relax with her two new friends. “Oh, this is a fake. Ruth fixed them for me,” explains Karen.

Defensively, Jennifer bent her arms as if to hide them.

"My nail polish always seems to chip. I take good care of my nails but keep them short, and the shiny polish doesn't look good at all."

Holding out her hand and stretching her fingers for them to examine, Jennifer sadly added, "I can't do all my work and have nice nails."

Karen and Ruth start an interesting conversation about the new season's nail color and Jennifer can't help but think about how uncomfortable she feels in this environment. However, everyone in the room seemed happy.

Hearing the tumultuous chatter from the surrounding tables, she envied the smiling faces. Drinking for the sake of alcohol seems to be the mainstream, with flirtatious glances, flirting, and wandering hands being the norm. Colorful jokes and sexual innuendos hung in the air. This wasn't her scene in the first place, but now her attitude makes her even more isolated.

Glancing around the room at groups of drinkers, all reveling in their independence, she realized that someone was watching her. She felt under the watchful eyes of a handsome and strong young man standing at the bar, his gaze fixed on her with the most perplexity.

Quickly looking away, she focused her attention on her two companions.

"Have you been to Melbourne yet?" she asked eagerly.

“No, but we've been to the Gold Coast,” they replied as one.

"Who would want to come to Melbourne," Karen teased. "There's no sun there. We're beach bunnies."

Ruth, coming to the rescue, shows concern. "How's social life going there?" Like here?

"Well, maybe, but..." Jennifer didn't want to offend her two companions. They tried their best to be friendly.

"I haven't been here long enough to compare. We have a lot of great little restaurants there and most of them have musical entertainment. There are bridge nights, tennis competitions and ..." Voice she raised up.

Karen interrupted him with a shrill sneer.

"Bridge? Who plays bridge? No wonder guys think you're ..."

"Different," Ruth interjected, looking sternly at Karen, who was red with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," Karen added, trying to mend their friendship. "I don't mean... Yes, I'm sorry.

"It's okay," Jennifer smirked, acknowledging Ruth's diplomatic effort.

“Thank you. I know the men in the office who call me Ice Maiden. Well, at least that's one of their polite terms. "

" You know! Karen squealed.

“Let's change the subject,” said Ruth. "Did you notice Bob and his friends at the bar?"

"Oh, right?" Karen turned to look excitedly.

Automatically, Jennifer followed his gaze.

"Here he is," Karen hissed.

Jennifer looked toward the bar with two eyes still staring at her from across the room. Bob? Is it Bob? She wondered which one for cash. She looked down. The man was definitely looking at Karen.

"As if you were surprised!" Ruth uttered incredulously. "Isn't that why Bob wanted to come here?"

Karen is now completely made up.

"Yes," she said. "And if I can invite him here with his friends, do your best to play the game. I really like him."

“Well, I consider Ted the beat of my heart so that's fine with me,” Ruth added. “You can bring me Ted.

Karen begins to vividly and in detail recount her last meeting with Bob. As she prepared and posed, expressing every part of the story with exaggerated gestures, Jennifer could see that Karen's skin-tight light blue dress with a revealing bust accentuated the cuteness even more. her softness. She'd noticed how men's gazes turned to Karen, and it was clear that it was part of Ruth's charm to be her best friend.

Ruth is simple, but intelligent. Unfortunately, his nose is a bit big and heavy dark features, with his eyebrows trimmed into lines, but his good makeup and hairdresser helped him achieve the luxurious look. With her extremely fashionable, avant-garde, red and black outfits, she exuded a glamorous image. Friendship with Karen will make men worship Ruth.

Jennifer's thoughts wandered to the sounds in her stomach, growling because she'd skipped lunch. Her mind told her she was hungry. After that, his thoughts fluctuated between wanting to be home with a good book and wanting to be here to meet someone new. Although she is naturally reluctant, she thinks she wants to be friends with a good man who makes sense and won't rush her.

Looking at the bar again, Jennifer noticed that the man with the "eyes" was now conversing with his companion. This gave him the opportunity to study it. These two eyes belong to an interesting face. Yet there they were, studying it again. For a split second, Jennifer let her eyes wander, then quickly turned away to see Ruth and Karen secretly talking and laughing.

Seeming to be confused, the casually dressed man looked down.

At the bar, Peter O'Brien sipped his glass, a slice of fresh lemon and a can of soft drink. As usual, he turned down all offers of alcohol, but he always made sure to yell at people no matter what they ordered. As his friends were busy discussing the details of their latest stock purchase, he felt free to take a look at the scene.

The beautiful young woman he was studying with caught him looking at her. How can he meet her? Surprised at his own reaction, he knew he was often accompanied by women, but now he found his mind focused on that face, the brunette's face hanging over his shoulder. "Well, is the car done yet?" Ted interrupted Peter's thoughts, his pleasant voice now filled with worry and pleading. He invested a lot in his new toy. "Is he ready for Sunday's race?"

His thoughts were still on the girl, Peter was slow to respond. He turned to Ted.

"The car is finished and would have ended the race if Bob hadn't redesigned it while trying to fly."

Peter smiled at them, knowing that over the years Bob was a very attentive driver, guarding the cars, always knowing there would be more than one race per season.

Rich Ted Ted contentedly profited from advertising and supplying automobiles, allowing Peter to reign as an engineer, rarely commanding Bob and Peter even though he had a monopoly over the machines.

"What do you think our chances will be?" Really, Bob was more interested in his beer than the race ahead. For him, it was just a Sunday walk. “Can the car compete? "

" Of course. Just keep quiet. Don't jump with barriers or other cars and you will shock everyone. "

Peter is very confident in his job. His hard-earned engineering degree and hard work prepping his car have paid off, but somehow he now seems to have lost all his enthusiasm for the job. he needed a break joining Bob and Ted at their familiar Friday night bar just to get away from work

As the others talked about tactics, his eyes turned. look at the young woman again." because she seemed to be studying him intently this time. To cover up his embarrassment, he turned to comment to his friends. Instead, he heard her thoughts from her mouth.

"Who's the redhead?" He asks.

Peter was shocked to himself. Even at that distance, the beautiful girl had pierced his sanctuary and he couldn't believe he let his guard down so easily.

"Where?" Bob interrupted his discussion of racing strategies.

"Over there," Peter nodded, "Sitting with two secretaries in your office."

"With Karen and Ruth?" The extra necessity in Peter's voice piqued Ted's interest. His usual accountant voice came to life. "She's definitely a wonder. That auburn hair tells me she's red."

“Give it away, you two. She's beautiful if you like that type of woman. Under that black suit and behind her heart-shaped face lurked an iceberg. Bob shared his knowledge with them.

“Forget about her,” he continued, “It's Jennifer Blake. She has just arrived from our Melbourne office to lead our legal branch. Trust me, a customer's long-term insurance policy has more life than it has in it. She is a typical lawyer, the original Ice Maiden, beautiful but cold. I even phoned the people at the Melbourne office and they verified the truth.

Returning to his beer, he resumed his conversation with Ted.

“That reminds me, Ted. You should call Peter's studio to check his books more often. After all, you are his accountant. Bob leaned against the bar. “Last week, I went there to assess the damage to a customer's car and I was met by a beautiful little blonde who was pouring all over Peter. You might think she would make more sense. The boy is stacked! His car is unfinished, so I suggest taking it with you like any gentleman. Bob laughed at his own joke. “There is nothing like a grateful older woman. Since they all followed a similar pattern, he really doubted their truth; surely, the accounts of his success with women were only his imagination. What is his problem?

Not wanting to hear another description of Blowbyblow, Peter deliberately turned his head. Again he looked around the room and at the girl still sitting there. He prayed that she wouldn't surprise him by studying her again,

Because she first passed a bar with two of his friends, she caught his attention. Watching her walk over to the table, he was amused by the sway of her hips and her long slender legs. Her strictly tailored suit did not hide her delicate figure. When she sat down, she modestly lifted her skirt to hide her thighs.

Bob suddenly burst out laughing, jumping into his friend's train of thought. He turned to Peter and nudged him in the ribs.

"Go on, man. You're gasping for breath and almost foaming at the mouth. Stay away from Jennifer. He places another lemon soda on Peter's elbow. “You look so tough it will frighten the poor girl. At any moment you will rip off your shirt and start pounding your chest like a gorilla. Throw it away. You are wasting your time. He called the bartender and ordered another round.

“Believe me,” he said, “an old square like you doesn't stand a chance. When a "smoothie" like me can't even date, how lucky are you? This girl has a heart of stone. He stopped and looked around the room. "God, if only she could read my mind." Show.

"Don't judge me for yourself," Peter replied angrily, stinging at Bob's assessment. So they really assume he's an old man who doesn't work with women, yes he always is. He was very upset by their presence. He knew he didn't have Bob's swagger or Ted's quiet authority. His fierce demeanor often scares women or they mock him for his quick anger and jealousy. He painfully realizes that he is a boy who has grown into a man who cannot easily express his feelings without the love of his family to guide him. Severe trauma, which was his first life, controlled his social behavior with women.

Peter is retreating into his cartridge but still has enough fire left for one last shot.

"Just because you don't grasp it doesn't mean that a gentleman like me, who has certain manners, will not succeed."

Bob and Ted roared.

They could not accept that Peter was a sensitive, polite man. For Ted, Peter is the struggling owner of a luxury boutique, his partner killed in an accident, and whose books are often covered with greasy fingerprints.

Bob, as an insurance appraiser, knows Peter as the tailor whose repair quotes are mostly accurate.

In fact, Ted and Bob didn't know about their friend's background. Peter was very careful to hide the extent of his business interests and the extent of his wealth. None of his friends know he owns Ted's business other than the BMW dealership next to his designer boutique, and he's also a major shareholder in Bob's multinational insurance company.

They often wondered about his youth but did not ask, because it was clear that Peter would not say anything. They had tried many times before, but they knew that such requests were most unwelcome. They know nothing about his horrible childhood life in the Malaysian jungle or his upbringing in the east. They had no doubt about his degrees in electromechanical engineering and psychology or even the rank of major.

These men have all been friends since Peter's return to Sydney four years ago. Not only do they play tennis together and belong to the same club, but they also do team racing.

Peter arrives in Australia from the East, knowing he can no longer be an outcast, a loner immersed in academia. He met his friends when he opened his workshop and the three formed a strong friendship at work as well as at play. Ted became the store's accountant and Bob the insurance adjuster visited the store when needed.

Their laughter hurt Pierre.

"She has so much class. You two are making me sick of always bragging about your strength and success to women. Peter's eyes were red with anger and his two friends pulled back. “Now a girl is cold because she rejected Bob. What rotten! The point is, it's delicious. "

" Continue. Don't argue. Bob, still arrogant and considering himself a modern-day Don Juan, had to accept.

“Don't be too hot with women. They are not worth it. Ted added his idea to de-escalate the situation. “Hey, time for another drink. That's your cry, Peter. You know you can't scream even if a shark catches you. Open your wallet and release the moths. Come on, buy us a drink and stop looking at Jennifer. You will terrify the poor girl.

Starting to look menacing, Peter straightened. They both know he rarely drinks alcohol.

Ted quickly changed the subject. "What limits are you putting on engines this weekend? We don't want the old lead paw here to blow it up. "

" He can push the cart as hard as he wants. The engine will do whatever it can do. "

They were friends again as they discussed the Sunday races ahead. Peter could only think of how uncanny they were from each other, Bob the confident, gallant, charming man. and in his opinion a dress hunter The Accountant Ted, rich by inheritance, erudite in appearance and very calm himself, heavy bear, useless, extremely dangerous, full of jealousy and gets angry very easily A man whose family history is shrouded in an enviable protected secret and academic record hides behind a bamboo wall None of his friends know why. renders him incapable of communicating with women, and his face may be either an impenetrable mask of the East or a reflection of his quick anger. His friends know nothing of his true financial worth nor his academic achievements. However, they are still friends. Almost everything is done together.

"How's business this week, Peter? No rain...no collisions... so you didn't win the usual millions. Bob took a sip of beer.

“You're right. It was quiet but this morning something very strange happened. A brand new flagship Mercedes has arrived. As if they were struck with an iron rod, both headlights shattered. The owner is a squat, loathsome toad of a man limping in the office. Peter laughed. “God, he's the Australian version of Al Capone.

Ted and Bob love the story, but it's true.

"He wears a black hat that extends to the top of his sunglasses and a black jacket that extends to his ears." "A coat in this weather?" Bob was very suspicious.

"I almost laughed, he was funny with his big ears sticking out of his head but when I asked him if it was an insurance claim his mischievous expression made me laugh."

Peter continued, “His exact words were, 'No, there's no insurance and the boys who did it don't need insurance either. Hope their life insurance policy pays off. His sinister laugh was truly malicious. Stack of sticky notes on the hood and when I said it was impossible he just threw in a second equally large stack of papers to join the first paragraph and yelled 'Not enough, eh his last words were like his bullies in their car drove him away at "four o'clock in the morning." There's over sixteen thousand dollars on the hood and he treats it like monopoly money. "

"Who is he?" Ted joined the conversation

"I don't know," explained Peter, "but there was a pistol strapped to the steering column and the man who picked up the car was very blond and so handsome that I can only think of him as 'Pretty Boy'."

Behind the straight face he assumed, Peter knew this customer was struggling with a capital "T". He had spent too many years of his childhood under the influence of such drawings not to realize what the creature was.

"This is the job you don't want." was Ted's dry remark. "Looks like Goofy Ryan and his son."