by Joanne Hill
“Okay.” She swallowed hard as disappointment welled in her chest. “Goodnight, Daniel.”
But he was already being served by the receptionist.
He’d behaved like a heel. A complete bastard. Correction. He hadn’t just behaved like one. He was one.
He had one brief meeting scheduled in fifteen minutes, a meeting that amounted to a Scotch in the bar with one of his managers, a laptop, and analysing projection figures. It was hands on, an aspect of work that most CEOs had long left behind, but he liked it. To some it meant he had little faith in his employees but that was far from the truth. Christies hired the best. Daniel just liked to see what was going on with his own eyes. It would take thirty minutes, an hour tops, and then his evening was free.
Yet the thought of another torturous dinner with Mel was unthinkable. He was not going to put himself through it. He would order room service and do what he’d suggested Mel do. Watch TV. Catch up on reading.
He confirmed the late check out with reception, and read the one message left for him. It was putting back the meeting tomorrow by twenty minutes but nothing that altered the rest of his day.
He turned towards the ground floor bar and made his way over, passing through the poker machines, attended, he noted, mainly by senior citizens. The bar was casual, more upmarket than a sports bar but still something Hugh would describe as slumming it. He was surprised to see his Operations Manager waiting and already booting up his laptop. Now the meeting would finish earlier which meant the evening just stretched out longer ahead of him.
He ordered drinks, shook hands with his manager, and for a moment his mind went to Mel. That look on her face in the foyer had been a stark look of rejection. Just as quick he shut it down. Today was a mistake. They’d behaved like tourists when their arrangement was nothing more than business. Last night at the restaurant had been a severe aberration. As a result, boundaries were getting blurred, and dangerously so.
He pulled the laptop around so he could view it, leant forward and forced Mel from his mind as he focused on what he did best. Work. They both had their own parts to play. None if it involved what he had felt last night. And he hoped that by the time they touched down in Sydney tomorrow, the attraction sitting uncomfortably in every part of his body would be gone. For good.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Daniel drummed his fingers on his desk and glanced out at his view of Sydney. At times it did feel like his view. The Christie’s view. A family who, whenever a history was written about the city, were included. Today the view was drizzly and miserable. Not to mention uncharacteristically humid. He loosened the collar of his shirt. He needed a shower.
If he had the morals of his brothers, he’d jump on a plane and head to a warm climate and leave others to run the business while he soaked up a tan by the sea.
Nora buzzed and he straightened. His concentration has been shot and he welcomed her. “Come in.”
She strode in with a folder in one hand and set it down on his desk. The phone rang in the outer office and she excused herself. Daniel focused on her as she walked away, analysing her for the second time in as many weeks. Nora was tall and slender. She’d told him she once modeled for a swimsuit catalogue and he could believe it. Yet he never consciously thought of her as attractive.
His mind jumped to Mel.
A second later he clenched his fist so hard his fingernails almost pierced his skin. He was always thinking of Mel. It was beginning to annoy the heck out of him, darn it.
“Excuse me?” Nora suddenly said as she walked back into the office.
“What?” He frowned. “Did I say that out loud?”
She nodded, and twirled her pen. “Is everything all right? You have been extremely distracted lately.”
He gestured out the window to the grim scene. It was raining hard now. “It’s difficult to concentrate.”
“It's more than the weather. Maybe you should take some time off to be with your grandfather.”
“I saw him this morning. He told me to get the hell back to work and stop worrying about him when he has the best medical care money could buy right there.”
“Sir Arthur is stubborn.”
He rubbed both his hands hard, up and down his face, and Nora said, “Go on, Daniel.” She rarely called him Daniel. “Go home. You work too hard. I can hold the fort here.”
He proceeded to massage his forehead. He never went home. Not before this.
Nora collected her folder. “Nothing is going to fall apart today,” she reassured him. “Or next week for that matter. And don’t tell me Queensland was a break because it wasn’t. You came back grumpier than when you left. Go and see a movie or something.” She added with a grin on her face, “Go and see a romantic comedy. You need a laugh.”
He glowered. She knew he hated romantic comedies.
He bet Mel loved them.
Take your wife with you.
His phone rang, Nora left the room, and he reached for his cell. It was Hugh.
Daniel came in through the door of the spare room, and said nothing as he handed her a package. Mel had barely seen him in the days since they’d gotten back from Queensland.
She’d lost track of time, absorbed in pinning together a new pattern. She’d already taken it apart once when it had begun to look like something a homeless shelter would turn down. She took the brown package. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
Curiosity was grinding away at her, and she waited for him to leave and head back to his suite or back out again, but he waited.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
“Okay.” She pulled the tape off, and slid out white tissue paper and unwrapped it.
She pulled out a frame and turned it over. The world seemed to stop as she stared at the photo. Their framed wedding photo.
“Gosh,” she murmured. Her voice suddenly sounded thick. Clogged. She drew in a shaky breath.
He began to loosen his tie. “Not bad is it.”
“No. It’s…” She didn’t understand but somehow, she had no idea how, she was looking at the picture of a couple who looked very much as if they were in love. Of a tall, insanely good looking man in a black suit and tie, his arm around a woman in a sophisticated white dress, holding a bouquet of perfect pink and white roses. Smiles on both their faces. What to her eye looked like real smiles which was uncanny. She could barely remember smiling at all, she’d been terrified most of the time.
In the photo, Daniel’s arm was around her waist and she realised her hand was on top of his. How had that happened? When had that happened? Both Hugh and Claire had cameras, and had taken photos, she remembered that, but she had no memory of this moment. Maybe her hand had only been there a split second, so briefly she hadn’t been consciously aware, but at that moment it had been captured forever.
She looked up to find him watching her, his dark brows knit together.
“So. What is this for? Fake marriages don’t have framed wedding portraits.”
He shrugged unemotionally. “Claire had them framed. She thought we might like it. I took one over to Grandad on the way. He said you were the most beautiful bride he’d seen and it was almost as good as being there on the day.” He paused. “He seemed…” He shook his head. “He seemed more relaxed than I’ve seen him for a while.” He glanced at the wedding ring still on his finger. He kept it in his car; put it on whenever he visited Arthur. Now, he slid it off, and Mel looked hastily down at the photo. They weren’t wearing the rings in the photo. So it had been taken before the vows.
She drew a shaky breath. “We do look nice.” In the photo, her brown hair was styled and curled, her face expertly made up. She looked like the cover girl of a bridal magazine. “We look lovely.”
He had turned away to leave the room, but at her comment he spun around.
There was the oddest look on his face. “Melinda, you were lovely.”
Their eyes clashed. Again, something on his face, in his expression, across his eyes she c
ouldn’t read, couldn’t decipher.
Then he looked away. “I need to shower and head out.”
Again. “Business?”
His jaw tightened. “A dinner meeting with some trade partners from Tokyo. I called Patsy earlier to let her know to prepare dinner for you only.”
Patsy hadn’t said anything but then she had probably and naturally assumed that Mel had known. After all, she was the wife. Even if they slept in separate bedrooms and lived lives that rarely collided, she was his wife.
Still, Mel could have opened a can and had beans on toast.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said. She got slowly to her feet, wiped her palms down the thighs of her jeans and turned to face him.
He glanced at his watch, frowned, impatient. “Mel, I don’t want to be late?”
“I could have prepared dinner for myself.”
“Why should you when Patsy is paid to do it?”
“Because I can. Because I didn’t expect to be waited on.”
His jaw hardened. “Is that a hardship, Mel? A penthouse apartment, a trip to Surfers? An unlimited credit card.” His face darkened. “What was I thinking?”
“I’m the one doing you the favor, Daniel.”
“Yes, you are. I have never claimed it was any other way. And you are being paid very handsomely to do this.” His voice was low as he closed the gap between them so he was standing just a foot from her, arms folded across his chest, blocking her from leaving. “But you know what? Here’s a one-time offer. We end it right now. If you really want to, we’ll call it quits.” He reached for the phone in his jacket pocket, his eyes determined. Was he bluffing? How had the atmosphere changed so drastically in just seconds? “I can call Hugh. He’ll start the paperwork.”
Confusion rocked her. “You don’t mean it. What about Sir Arthur, your brothers?”
“Forget about my brothers and my grandfather. This is about you. But remember this. I never forced you into this Mel. I made you an offer, and you agreed.” His voice was an uncompromising challenge. And if she backed out, she would get nothing. No money. Nothing. Just the patchwork, the books she’d bought her mother, the nice clothes. And memories.
“Is that what you want?” His voice was clipped.
The words reverberated through her mind. Was that what she wanted? She rubbed her hands over her face. No. Of course not. She couldn’t give this up when it was going to help her and Ellie out. She’d be crazy.
“I didn’t think so,” he remarked. He made to walk through the door. Then he stopped. His shoulders heaved and he spun round.
“I’ve got a full schedule tomorrow but we can do breakfast.”
Is that what it was called, when you had cornflakes with your wife? Doing breakfast.
“Sounds fine,” she said carefully.
“I’ll send a car for nine. Actually… make it ten. There’s a good restaurant at Watson’s Bay. I’ll book for brunch. They do a good Eggs Benedict.”
The restaurant over looked the harbor and was packed to capacity. A waiter showed them to their table, a private booth out of the view of most tables, handed them menus and Daniel ordered coffee for himself, tea for her, and when the waiter had gone, looked thoroughly uncomfortable.
Mel sighed. If he had lesser manners, he’d be tapping his fingers on the table and consulting his cell phone every minute. This wasn’t what she wanted. Two people looking as if they’d rather be anywhere else. Although she wasn’t speaking for herself. She did want to be here, and after last night, when he’d suggested in far too calm a manner that they pull the plug on the deal, she knew without any doubts, she was going to see this through to the end. Which meant putting the focus where it belonged. On Sir Arthur.
She stirred the pot of tea to see if it was ready to pour. She’d never known her grandparents. Ellie’s parents had died when Mel was a toddler, but they had effectively wiped Ellie from their lives, and along with their daughter, the granddaughter born out of wedlock – the disgrace of the family. It had affected Ellie more than Mel. Mel’s father was simply a shadowy figure who wanted nothing to do with her, who had strung her mother along on an affair and then left her when she had fallen pregnant. Which meant Sir Arthur had taken up a space in her heart that she wanted him to fill, even needed him to. She just hadn’t known it until now.
Sometimes she took Barnaby on a walk through the streets nearby, then shared tea and scones with Sir Arthur as she read aloud the headlines from the women’s magazines to keep abreast of Sydney society. Daniel disapproved immensely. The Christies distanced themselves from celebrity but Arthur liked to know what was going on, and frequently added his own commentary to tales of the old rich. She had well and truly fallen in love with the old codger. And if she wasn’t careful, Daniel, too.
Or was that already too late?
Just attraction, she told herself hastily as she poured her tea.
She watched him across the table, inhaled the scent of his aftershave. Admired the seductive curve to his jaw. The lines around his eyes when he smiled, rare as it was. The cut of his black hair. It had grown these past weeks, and he’d taken to brushing it back every so often. He was far too taken up with family business to even acknowledge it was starting to become a nuisance. She hoped he didn’t cut it. She dreamt of running her hands through his hair, imagined him lying on his back, hands clasped behind his head, a lazy smile on his face, watching her…
She rubbed at a sudden rush of goosebumps on her arms.
“We can close the window if it’s cold,” he said, beckoning towards wide open windows overlooking the harbor.
She shook her head. “I’m not cold. And this is perfect.”
Their meals arrived, and they began. He was right about the Eggs Benedict.
Daniel’s phone began to vibrate on the table, and he scowled as he reached for it.
She topped up her tea as he listened in silence. In a split second, the color vanished from his face.
He ended the call. “Finish your breakfast,” he told her. “We need to go.”
She was about to ask where, when she realised. Her throat was dry and her appetite had gone, and she reached for her bag. “We can go now.”
Arthur had private nurses, his own personal physician, the best care any man could hope for, but as Daniel ushered Mel to the bedroom of the private hospital, he braced himself against the knowledge that the one thing Arthur didn’t have was time. From the beginning, they’d known that. When the pain became too bad, he would be admitted for care. He could stay in his house, with the medical staff, but Arthur felt it was easier on his dedicated housekeeping staff if they weren’t, as he had blithely put it months before, “surrounded by the stench of impending death.” Daniel’s mind reeled, trying to comprehend it. He couldn’t fathom what it could be like, knowing your own life was coming to an end in a few short weeks.
Arthur lay in his bed, dressed in pale blue pyjamas, his eyes open and his gaze on the doctor deep in discussion with him.
He sensed movement and turned. When he saw Daniel, his eyes visibly brightened.
“I heard you’d shifted house.” Daniel’s throat was thick and he tamped back on it, not wishing anyone to see what he was feeling.
Arthur’s mouth curled then he noticed Mel and said in a voice that had aged these past weeks, “Hello, Melinda.”
“It’s good to see you, grandad” she said, bending to kiss his sallow cheek.
“Don’t talk,” Daniel instructed him. “You’ll wear yourself out. You’ll have no energy left for flirting with the nurses.”
A weak smile crossed his grandfather’s face, but he shook his head. “Danny. I need to ask you a favour.”
“Anything.” Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, and his voice softened. “You know that. Anything.”
“It’s Barnaby.”
Just the mention of the dog’s name was enough to make Daniel break out in hives. “What about Barnaby?”
“You need to get him from my home a
nd take him with you.”
“Take him with me, where?” A suspicion he didn’t appreciate was winding up his spine.
“Take him home with you, Daniel.”
“What do you mean?” The old man’s eyes misted and Daniel froze. His grandfather was giving him the ankle biting canine?
He didn’t like dogs. It was nothing personal but he did not like dogs. “Surely he can come in and be with you?”
The doctor cut in. “I’ve had this conversation with Sir Arthur and under no circumstances can we allow pets in here. I’m sorry.”
“But that’s absurd.” Daniel rose to his feet. “Don’t pets make people feel better? That dog is like a member of the family to my grandfather. Surely it would be far better for the dog to be here with grandfather than stuck somewhere else.”
The doctor shook his head. “I’m sorry. A lot of folk at this stage of their lives with serious illnesses are sensitive to animal hair. It travels, it’s loaded with allergens. There’s nothing we can do.”
Daniel felt panic swirl in his chest. So he was getting instant custody of the dog? He turned back to Arthur, his mind racing. “It’s not a good idea. The dog hates me. I don’t get on with any dog. Or cat. Animals, full stop.”
“I know that. Barnaby’s got good taste.” The faint blaze of fire was still there in Arthur’s eyes and his gaze moved slowly over to Mel. “But he’s taken to Mel.”
“Mel?” Daniel turned to her, and she raised her shoulders in a shrug. “I walk him whenever I’m here. We get along great, me and Barnaby. I don’t mind.”
But I do, he thought. Pets were a pain in the ass and just someone else, something else, to look after. Something else to break your heart if it went wrong. Someone else to desert you if they wanted out.
He rammed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Mel was only temporary in his life but his grandfather didn’t know that. He’d told Daniel over and over how pleased he was to know Daniel had found happiness. That they would one day have children and none of this 2.2 kids or whatever it was. He had instructions. A minimum of four, gender optional. But a girl would be nice.
