A Choice of Fate

by Jezz de Silva

  “I’m not talking about work.”

  Olivia tore her gaze from where it had settled on the sand-colored Akubra taking pride of place on her coat stand. In time, her memories of the Harpers and Wingarra would put a smile on her face instead of twisting her insides. And in a few months, she’d look forward to her next visit instead of constantly looking back.

  “I’m missing the roast dinners and cakes. But that damned dust is finally starting to wash out of my clothes.”

  “I’m not talking about Wingarra.”

  Deep down, Olivia had known where Abi was headed, yet she’d been too exhausted to distract her sister from the elephant in the room. The same elephant she’d been driving herself crazy trying to ignore the past four months. And the very same elephant that had been slowly crushing the life out of her.

  “Is he—” She licked her dry lips and prayed her voice held. “Okay?”

  Olivia felt rather than heard her sister’s sigh. “He’s fucking miserable. And so he should be for breaking my kid sister’s heart. But he’s Ryder’s problem. I’m more worried about you. Are you okay?”

  With each day, the distance between her and the man she couldn’t stop thinking about grew until it threatened to tear her apart. Running a trembling hand through her hair, she forced calm into her voice and lied to her sister.

  “I will be.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jarrah perched on the worn arm of the sofa and smiled as he took in the last office he was ever likely to occupy. The only time it’d looked emptier had been when Charlie had completely ignored his orders and blown their nonexistent relocation budget decorating the place.

  If you want to beat the big boys, you have to start looking like a big boy. Charlie’s voice drifted through his thoughts like a chocolate-coated sledgehammer. She’d been right. Then again, he could count how many times she’d been wrong on just one hand.

  He wouldn’t miss the eighteen-hour days or stealing a few hours’ sleep before doing it all over again. And if he never sat in another boardroom or had to pander to the insecurities of immoral narcissists, it’d be too soon. But he was going to miss the hell out of the woman who’d helped him achieve more than he’d ever dreamed while ensuring he hadn’t become what he’d spent his life fighting.

  “You better not have slept here again or I’m going to kick that sweet butt of yours home to get some proper rest.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. Proper rest? There was only one thing that would enable him to sleep through the night and she was probably stuck in L.A. traffic on her way home from another fourteen-hour day.

  Charlie thundered into the office and skidded to a stop in the doorway on her shocking-pink pumps. His office manager had pulled up so quickly she almost dropped the coffees she held. But the paper bag that’d been tucked between her toned arm and ample bosom thudded onto the floor as she juggled the cardboard tray holding their morning caffeine hit.

  The scents of expensive perfume, overpriced coffee, and heavenly pastry wafted through his barren office as he pushed off the sofa and picked up the paper bag. Charlie’s wide eyes darted from the neat stack of files sitting on his otherwise paperless desk, to the twin 27-inch Apple Thunderbolt monitors she’d been nagging him to buy for months, before settling on the brand-new name plate shimmering on the office door.

  Charlotte Mackay, Partner. She’d always be his Charlie. But partner had a nice ring to it and dark overlord wouldn’t fit on the polished copper plaque he’d had installed last night after he’d finally convinced her to go home. He pried the cardboard tray out of her hands and placed the coffees and pastries on the desk before ushering her into the chair she’d no doubt replace as soon as he walked out the door. Charlie remained ominously silent as he slid the contract he’d finished drafting that morning in front of her and dropped into the visitor’s chair.

  The shock on his soon-to-be partner’s features transformed into suspicion before settling into wonder as her glistening eyes slowly rose to meet his. He’d lost count of the number of contracts he’d written, and this one had been by far the easiest and most satisfying.

  It’d taken way too many sleepless nights to figure out the second-to-last piece of the puzzle that’d haunted him for the last five freaking months, but he’d done it. Which left only the most terrifying piece to go.

  He’d smiled more that morning than he had since that damned Qantas jet had carried Olivia out of his arms and out of his life. He ignored the peace flowing through him and donned his business face. “I’ll be around to help with the transition, put out any fires, and make sure you don’t scare away our new associates, but you’ll run the show.” Like she’d unofficially done since the day she’d barged into her job interview.

  “N-new associates?” Instead of the sass normally coating every syllable, Charlie’s question dribbled from her trembling lips on something sounding more like a squeak.

  He hid his grin behind a scowl and gestured to the stack of résumés beside her. “They all know what they’re doing, come highly recommended, and have already been warned about the evil harpy they’ll work for. You’ve got the final say as to who joins Harper & Mackay.”

  “Harper & Ma-Mackay?”

  He’d fallen victim to the shimmering eyes gazing back at him way too many times and forced himself to focus on the contract before he dove over the desk and hugged the crap out of her.

  “We’ll notify our existing clients as soon as we’re settled and everyone’s up to speed. In the meantime, you’ll need to update our website and get a new sign for the office.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “And depending on how many associates you hire, you may need to look at leasing more space next door.”

  She’d nagged him to hire more people and grow the business for years. He’d always made up some excuse that it wasn’t the right time or they needed more clients. The truth was he couldn’t imagine working with anyone other than the woman whispering curses and covertly wiping her eyes.

  She placed a crimson-tipped finger halfway down the contract and raised an eyebrow. “Fifty-fifty split? How will disputes get resolved?”

  And that’s why hiring Charlotte Mackay all those years ago had been the best business decision he’d ever made. Not that she’d given him much choice. While sniffling and pretending not to cry, she’d sped read the contract and zeroed in on the one thing he’d purposely left ambiguous. He hadn’t given her a controlling stake because she’d never let him forget she was the boss. More importantly, he loved fighting with her.

  He sighed and shook his head. “Same as always. We’ll argue for hours and end up doing what you want.”

  She hid her smile behind a grim look of determination and lowered her attention back to the contract. She’d dropped out of college, with only a year left on her law degree, to care for her disabled sister, but understood legalese better than half the high-priced leeches they went up against. Her finger danced over the words and pulled up on the vacant real estate beside his signature. “Do you know any decent lawyers that could look this over for me?”

  This time he couldn’t stop laughing. It poured out of him in waves of relief and joy. “You can sign it your damned self once you finish your law degree.”

  The mouth that never stopped working hung open while she gawked at him.

  Her jutted his chin at the files on her desk. “Why do you think I interviewed so many associates? They can cover you while you’re studying and sitting exams. A couple have just graduated and will be able to help you get back into the swing of things considering your”—he paused and cleared his throat—“your experience.”

  While Charlie’s expression morphed from shock to indignation, he fished out the Vanquish’s key and tossed it across the desk.

  She snatched it up before it had even stopped sliding and eyed him with a mixture of hope and suspicion. Aston Martin’s designers could’ve modeled the Vanquish’s body based on the woman sitting opposite him. The damned thing had practi
cally been created as Charlie’s automotive avatar, and where he was headed, he didn’t need a super car.

  “Close your damned mouth and grab your handbag. I need a lift.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The heat baking his skin, the dust swirling around his boots, the silence enveloping him was exactly as Jarrah remembered. He hadn’t believed in magic all those years ago, but he was no longer a lost kid searching for his place in the world. He was a grown-ass man searching for the woman he loved.

  He tipped back his hat and took in the Wishing Tree. He’d finally enjoyed some long-overdue celebrations with his family and hugged every last one of the ungrateful yobbos until they were sick of him. He still wasn’t sure what had brought him here, but what better way to kick off his next great adventure than at the same place he’d begun the last?

  His eyes slid to the gap in the scrub that had hosted one of the most intense moments of his life. Even now he could feel her pulsing around him as she clung to him and groaned in his ear. He’d relived that night and every other night they’d shared over and over until it’d nearly driven him insane.

  He tore his gaze away and picked a path through the maze of roots and rock leading to the pile of offerings that grew with each season and each visitor passing through Wingarra. The offerings glinted in the mottled sunshine piercing the whispering canopy high above him. The trinkets had looked like treasure when he’d been a kid. Only now did he understand their true value. His gaze found the wad of bills the eighteen-year-old him had tucked inside the broken windscreen of a toy truck. The 145 dollars had been exactly half of the savings he’d left with on his quest to the big city.

  Jarrah chuckled and shook his head. At the time, his idiotic teenage brain had figured money could secure any wish. All he’d wanted back then was to get as far away from his heritage as possible. How fucking stupid he’d been. The Wishing Tree had taken all of thirty seconds to show him exactly where he belonged. It took him another ten years to finally accept the damned tree had been right all along.

  He removed his hat and peered up at the being who’d watched over everything and everyone he cared about. “I finally get it, but I’ve got a pit stop to make first.”

  With a nod, he resettled his Akubra and turned toward his Land Cruiser only to stop dead in his tracks.

  “Mum said I’d find you out here.”

  Mum. The word erased the decade they’d been apart. Jai Carter had been the fourth Harper boy and both his brother in arms and partner in crime. “So the rumors are true. Was wondering when I’d hear from you.”

  Jai chuckled and pushed off the Cruiser’s tray. “If I’d known how smart you’d become, I wouldn’t have punched you in the face that often.”

  Jarrah rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smile curving his lips. Charlie had called with news of a huge shake-up within Carter Industries ten minutes before he’d boarded the charter flight to Baroona. Apparently the entire board had been stood down and a new president named. The president had assumed the role of CEO until a replacement for the freshly unemployed Dean Manningham was found. “And if I’d realized what a power-hungry arsehole you’d become, I would’ve punched you in the face more often and a lot freaking harder.”

  “Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.” Jai’s laughter quieted with every step he took. By the time he’d closed the distance between them, his smile had vanished, and he looked to be carrying the weight of his legacy on his back.

  Jai glanced over his shoulder in Wingarra’s direction before shrugging. “I never thought I’d make it back home.”

  Jarrah nodded. “Me neither.”

  Jai removed his hat and extended his hand. “Thank you for giving me the chance I needed to make my move.”

  “You took your fucking time.” Jarrah clutched Jai’s hand and studied his long-lost brother. From the outside looking in, Jai’s childhood had been as privileged as anyone could imagine. Only the Harpers knew what Jai had endured.

  With each silent second, everything that had come between them faded away, and they were two scrawny teenagers from different worlds standing in the middle of nowhere all over again. With a mutual curse, they tackled each other and traded insults before shoving apart.

  Jai slapped his hat back on his head and glanced over Jarrah’s shoulder at the Wishing Tree.

  Jarrah followed his gaze. “How’s that wish coming along, El Presidente?”

  Half groan, half curse, Jai’s sigh echoed through the silence like a plea to their ancestors.

  Jarrah burst out laughing and slammed a fist into Jai’s shoulder.

  Jai didn’t even bother retaliating. Instead he turned and stared off in the Big House’s direction. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

  Jarrah shrugged. “If anyone’s got a shot, it’s you.”

  Jai slowly nodded before hitching a thumb over his shoulder at the Wishing Tree. “How about your wish?”

  Jarrah chuckled and shook his head. “Working on it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Olivia eyed the grease-soaked bag of temporary pleasure clutched in her hand and choked down the chocolate shake threatening to reemerge all over the stairs leading to her apartment. The cheeseburger, jumbo fries, and large onion rings had been a great idea at the time. And the jumbo box of peanut M&Ms weighing down her purse had looked like the perfect remedy for her funk. Yet her rewards for surviving yet another hundred-hour week only served as one more reminder of how much she’d been lying to herself for the last five months. She didn’t need chocolate and empty calories. She wasn’t hungry.

  She dragged herself onto the first-floor landing and leaned back against the wall to catch her breath. How long had it been since she’d exercised? Hell, how many weeks had it been since she’d spent more than her lunch break outside? The all-too-familiar images and sensations hit her as soon as she closed her eyes.

  She tried opening them, but it was too late. Abi’s teasing curses and cackling broke through her defenses, clearing the way for Ryder’s booming laughter. One by one the strangers who’d become family joined the chorus until her head felt as crowded as the dining table that had hosted the best meals she’d eaten in a decade. She could see them all and feel the invisible bond tying them together like leftover puzzle pieces that somehow fit together perfectly.

  She shook her head in a desperate attempt to escape the world she’d left behind and found herself wiping sweat from her forehead in Wingarra’s courtyard while the sun baked her exposed skin and the desert breeze caressed her face.

  She tightened her grip on the junk food and her laptop bag and willed herself to break free before it was too late. She’d pay for her weakness and stupidity while staring into the darkness tonight. But she needed to see him.

  She closed her eyelids tighter and stared out over the nothingness she missed so much. The waiting was always the hardest part. Sometimes he’d come straight away. Other times he’d wait until she cursed him before appearing, but he’d always come. She was vaguely aware of her dinner once again slapping onto the concrete landing and her laptop bag swinging into her hip while she clutched her hands to her chest as a tiny speck emerged on the horizon.

  Her racing heart quickened as the tiny black dot emerged from the plume of dust in its wake. She’d fantasized about him so often she could describe every bead of sweat trickling down his skin and every lock of hair fluttering beneath his battered Akubra. And yet she still held her breath.

  The dark silhouette on horseback slowly transformed into her man. Clutching the reins with the same tender hands that’d caressed every inch of her, he unleashed the smile that’d destroyed everything she thought she’d known about herself.

  After witnessing her parents’ and her sister’s love affairs, she’d thought she had a pretty good idea of love’s symptoms and debilitating side effects. And just like her pathetic self-prognoses over the last five months, and even more desperate reassurances that whatever she felt for hi
m would eventually fade into a naughty memory she could draw on for lonely nights, her diagnosis had been 100 percent w-r-o-n-g, wrong.

  And just like that, the peace flowing through her evaporated and left her shivering on a concrete staircase half a world away from where she needed to be. Time wasn’t going to purge the addiction from her bloodstream. Nor was working until she was too exhausted to think. And pretending the four weeks they’d shared had been just a fling was complete bullshit.

  Damn logic, damn reality, and damn the stupid-assed agreement she’d forced on him. Slapping away her tears, she wrenched out her phone and checked the time. He’d be up. And if he wasn’t, she’d freaking wake him up. Grabbing her dinner, she scrambled up the stairs with her chest heaving, her heart hammering, and her soul flying. She needed to hear him. She had to stare into those eyes and confess how much she missed him and how much he meant to her.

  She cleared the stairs at a dead run only to have her mind shut down and her legs wobble to a stop as her dinner once again hit the concrete. A scream tore through the fingers clamped over her mouth as her brain’s surge protection tripped, rebooted, then shut off completely.

  “G’day Doc.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Jarrah stood naked in Olivia’s apartment and surveyed the destruction they’d wrought while a stunning L.A. dawn streamed through the windows. The T-shirt she’d ripped off his body as he’d dragged in his luggage and slammed the door lay in a crumpled mass beside the skirt he’d wrenched down her legs. His jeans hung off the back of one of the barstools sitting beside the kitchen counter with one of her crimson stilettos poking out from beneath one leg. The other wet dream-inducing high heel lay atop the stunning silk blouse he’d destroyed in his desperation to get at her. His comatose manhood stirred as he caught sight of the satin thong he’d almost swallowed while feasting on her. God only knew where her bra and his briefs had ended up. Then again, he hoped they wouldn’t need to worry about clothes until at least the weekend was over.