by Jennie Adams
Linc named the figure.
‘I’ll be able to afford that rent.’ That was a relief, and she simply needed to concentrate on the tasks and necessities at hand. Not on eyes that smiled at her through shields that made her think of her own life, its hurts and triumphs, and what Brent’s might have been and might be now. ‘When can I sign a lease agreement? I don’t need to see the place first. If you recommend it, that’s all I need to know. I don’t want to miss out on the opportunity to pin this down, if that’s at all possible.’
She smoothed her hands over her thighs and told herself to stop babbling.
Though Brent had remained silent during this interchange, his gaze followed the movement and she thought she heard him make a soft sound in the back of his throat before he glanced away.
If so, it was probably because she had drawn his attention to just how non-slim those thighs were.
On this lowering thought Fiona suppressed a sigh. Her body was what it was. There was no changing her build, or her height, or what she preferred to refer to as her curviness but her mother said was the result of far too much self-indulgence and couldn’t Fiona try to eat less?
She didn’t overeat. Her tiny mother couldn’t see that, though. To Eloise Donner, Fiona was the stork among the pigeons and someone needed to shrink her somehow. Preferably while shrinking her into a far more practical mould at the same time.
And Brent had simply followed her movement with his gaze. It was completely meaningless. It wasn’t as though her employer would be noticing her in that respect.
Which was a good thing, she reminded herself.
Linc drew a folded document and a set of keys from his back pocket and handed both to her. ‘Once you’ve read the lease, you can go ahead and sign it and leave it with Jaimie. She’ll pass it on to me the next time I’m here. Brent will explain where the place is and about getting you moved in, if you need help with that.’
The two brothers excused themselves and left then, and Fiona curled her fingers around the keys and lease and turned to her employer. ‘That was generous of you and your brother. Thank you.’
‘It was no trouble. Linc deals in a lot of that kind of property investment.’ Brent watched his brothers exit the room and the building before he allowed his gaze to return to his new employee. He hadn’t meant to follow the slide of Fiona’s hands down her thighs moments ago.
He hadn’t meant to notice her at all, but he had. She was a striking woman. Tall, beautifully built and curvy in all the right places. A woman who wouldn’t blow away in a strong breeze, who a man could hold in his arms without fear of crushing her.
She was also femininity through and through. From the dark blonde hair tied back from her face in a high ponytail to the robin’s egg blue eyes and fine arched brows, the straight nose and generous mouth, she looked softer than a flower, and equally as sweet.
The thoughts surprised him. Not the appreciation of her beauty. How could any man fail to notice that? But the intimacy of where his thoughts had taken him—thoughts of how it would be to hold her, of wanting to protect her from harm. Brent’s life had been all about protecting himself, his brothers. His father had put him in a place where he’d had no choice but to be strong. To hide his flaws from the world so they wouldn’t judge him as Charles had done. Brent hadn’t reached out to a woman for the kind of intimacy that would result in wanting to protect her as well as protect his own interests in a long time. Actually…he never had.
He never would do that. His limits would forever prevent that. And Fiona looked the kind of woman who would deserve exactly that kind of…care.
Which simply reminded him that he needed to appreciate her attractiveness from the distance of an unconnected observer.
Right. And he did. He’d simply become distracted for a moment. The same thing applied to the head twitch he’d experienced earlier. It wouldn’t happen again in front of her. He’d make sure of that as he did in all other circumstances.
Brent nodded in a completely concise, controlled manner as he came to this conclusion. If he felt somewhat relieved to have arrived back at a more known, comfortable place in his thinking, he told himself this was a good thing, anyway. ‘Let’s take you to Jaimie so you can sign your employment agreement and leave the lease with her.’
Once Fiona had done that, Brent gestured to his office area. ‘Would you like to hear about some of the projects I’ve got going? Some preliminary information to give you an idea of what’s in store for you?’
‘Oh, yes, please. That will give me a chance to think over the weekend before I start work officially on Monday.’ Fiona half-reached one hand towards him, dropped it self-consciously to her side, and her face pinked slightly.
His gaze locked onto that blossom of colour and his breath caught…
He pushed the door of his office open and stepped through to open the adjoining door. ‘You’ll be working in here. It’s a decent-sized room. I hope it’ll suit your needs.’
His voice was deep. Too deep. He cleared his throat.
Fiona’s gaze tracked around the long room, dodged his. ‘I’m sure it will. It’s a generous working space. There’s good light for my easel work, and plenty of desk space for computer monitors.’
‘I imagine there’ll be times when you’ll need all of that space.’
‘Is it okay to dress casually for when I’m painting? I realise there’ll be times when I need to look smart. Client discussions…’ A little ridge formed between her brows. ‘Perhaps I should just dress smart all the time, and wear a smock or something when I paint. I’m inclined to be a bit messy during that process, but I could try to change that.’
‘There’s a dressing room. I keep clothes here. You can do the same. Messy is fine, anyway.’ The thought of her using his changing room, shedding clothes and putting on new ones, wasn’t a place he needed to go.
So get on with it, MacKay. ‘On Monday we’ll be helping to finish up a landscaping project, and I’ll want you to take photos and think about a painting for the clients. They’re an elderly couple, very agreeable. They’ll be happy with whatever you put together. The photos will go into a Progress Album for the clients and our stock here for showing clients how we work. Nothing for newspapers or magazines, though. I accept the occasional interview to keep the media off my back but I’m selective, so if you’re ever approached I expect you to shoot the enquiry straight to me.’
‘I will do that.’ Her expression showed she didn’t understand the ‘why’ of it, but her acceptance was enough. ‘And I can certainly take the photos and also use them to help me create an appropriate painting for the clients.’
Fiona gave him a pleasant but firm look. ‘It’s not ideal to come in partway through and need to produce a painting in that way, but I’m sure that won’t happen in the future.’
Brent liked a woman—correction, a person—with enough spunk to say what they wanted.
From the distance of an observer. You like it from that distance. ‘Don’t worry. You’ll be included in future planning. In fact, I have a project that’s been driving me mad for the last three weeks. The client won’t settle on a design. I’m hoping if I pull you in on that one it might get me the breakthrough I need.’
‘Okay, well, that’s good then, and I’ll be happy to try to help with your project.’ Her expression held the slightest sheepish edge before she squared her shoulders and seemed to decide it was best she’d been clear about her expectations.
Brent went on to explain the problems with the project he’d mentioned, and to discuss some other issues. Work was easy. He always felt at home with his landscape projects.
An hour later Fiona stood at the door of his office once more, bag in hand, and thanked him for his time. ‘I can’t wait to start work Monday. I’ll have some photographic equipment to bring out to the landscaping site, if that’s okay.’
‘That’s fine. Anything you bring will be safe there, though we should get your equipment added to the business’s insur
ance cover.’
‘Shall I phone the details in later today? Model numbers and so on?’
‘Do that. You can leave them with Elizabeth, my receptionist.’ With this issue resolved, Brent went on, ‘If you need help to move into your flat this weekend—’
Fiona smiled her thanks, but shook her head. ‘I can get Tommy to use his delivery truck to help me shift the larger items. My friends all knew I was coming for this interview, so they’ve been on standby, half-expecting this.’
So ‘Tommy’ was simply one of those ‘friends’? Brent couldn’t explain why he suddenly felt…lighter than he had a few seconds ago. ‘Okay, then I guess I should let you go so you can start making arrangements.’
Fiona made a little bouncing motion on the balls of her feet. ‘A new home, a new job and a new part of the city to live in. I can’t wait to take it all on. Thank you again, Mr MacKay—Brent—for this chance.’
‘You’re more than welcome.’ Brent said his goodbyes and then watched her leave the building, hips swaying with each step she took.
And then he immersed himself in landscape plans, where he could line up his ideas in neat rows and spend as long as he needed on each aspect of his work. His head twitched sharply to the right, but he was by himself now. He didn’t worry about trying to conceal the action.
At least the condition he lived with was good for helping him to focus on his work, and he had every right to keep knowledge of it from the world at large. It was in his best interests to do so. His father’s past behaviour had made that abundantly clear.
Brent dug into his plans and put thoughts of Fiona Donner’s lovely smile—of his new employee’s smile—right out of his mind…
CHAPTER TWO
‘A DOZEN shrubs for you, Russ.’ A worker placed the shrubs on the ground and moved away to collect another load.
It was Monday afternoon, towards the end of Fiona’s first day at the new job. Spending it out of doors helping to complete an actual work project as well as gather photographic resources for her painting and for the company to use to showcase its services had been a thrill. She smiled to herself as words continued to flow around her.
‘Hey, Phil. Can I use that mattock for the next ten minutes?’
‘Great job with the bougainvillea, Chelsea.’ This was Brent’s voice as he turned his head to check on one of the more junior members of the ground team. ‘Keep up the good work.’
The sun was shining and the ten-acre work site on the edge of a newish Sydney suburb was abuzz with activity. Brent was motivated and positive and determined, and the ground workers responded to his authority and encouragement by giving their absolute best. He was at home in this, and Fiona…found that knowledge of him perhaps a little too appealing.
‘We’re going to finish this job on time.’ The site boss, a man in his mid-thirties with a shock of carroty hair squashed under a baseball cap, paused beside Fiona to murmur the words. ‘I knew we would. The company hasn’t missed a deadline yet, even when things have gone pear-shaped, as they did with this project when some of the goods we ordered didn’t arrive three days ago.
‘That never would have happened with Linc’s nursery supplies. I’m guessing in future Brent will refuse to buy from anywhere else, even if it means asking his brother to import or source what it is that he needs.’
Brent had pulled in about a dozen extra workers from other job sites to work on this project. Fiona had done her share of carrying and carting and planting and fetching throughout the day, too. She was ‘grubby’, as Brent had predicted would happen. Mostly around the knees and seat of her jeans, and it was all good honest dirt. She’d learned so much about his process by getting her hands into it, and she’d had a ball getting dirty at the same time! ‘There doesn’t seem to be a lot left to do now.’
‘I’d say another half hour of work for everyone, if that.’ The boss moved on, and Fiona planted the last shrub in her allotment and dusted herself off.
She watched as Brent lifted a plant from a wheelbarrow and placed it in a prepared hole a few metres away with an efficient movement. In the early days of his business he had probably spent a lot of his time on this kind of thing.
He worked with a focused, economical efficiency. Her camera lens had tracked that focus again and again throughout the day. She itched to photograph him again now.
For their office files, Fiona justified. She glanced guiltily at the other nearby workers, but none of them seemed to be taking any particular notice of who or what she was studying.
Right now she needed to study landscape photo angles. She gathered her equipment. There should be a nice sunset soon, if she could find the right place on the property to photograph it. She fished her iPod out of her jeans pocket, placed the earphones in her ears and let the music and the lighting and the mood absorb her.
She truly was all about the work.
She was!
Brent found Fiona in a far corner of the property site, camera carefully placed on a tripod. She was waiting for something, he wasn’t sure what. And, while she waited, her body moved unconsciously to music only she could hear.
In her jeans and fitted red shirt, with dirt smears on her legs and other places, and her hair ruffled and half-falling from her ponytail, she looked…lived-in, girl-next-door.
He almost managed to convince himself she looked quite ordinary, in fact, until she made a small sound in the back of her throat, leaned in and took several photos before she straightened with a satisfied sigh, pulled the earphones from her ears and began to dismantle her equipment.
Because the truth was Fiona dressed in this way was anything but ordinary, and with the flush of achievement on her face she was anything but comfortable or girl-next-door.
Brent drew a deep breath and stepped forward. ‘Finished? Did you get the shots you wanted?’
‘Oh!’ Her hand rose to splay over her chest. ‘I didn’t realise you were there. I was photographing the sunset. I’ve taken around two hundred photos today. Not all of them will be used, of course, but I think I’ve gained a good overview of what a team of people can achieve on a site in a single session. But please tell me I wasn’t muttering or singing while I worked.’
‘You were soundless, I promise. I didn’t want to disturb your concentration so I waited, that was all.’ Their fingers brushed as he reached to take the tripod from her.
Just that, and Brent’s focus slipped. He froze on that slip. Came to a complete stop with his fingers closed over Fiona’s. Only a beat of time passed before he moved his hand, but that one beat was a beat out of his control and that concerned him.
That Fiona now studied him with her head tipped to the side and curiosity stamped on her face bothered him more. There were certain things about him that he kept to himself. He’d learned from a master instructor that doing that was necessary.
Most of all it bothered him that this one woman set off in him things to do with his condition that very few other people could make happen, no matter how much they impacted on him. His need to protect his privacy about that rose even in the face of his awareness of her. It wasn’t a comfortable combination.
‘I think I got a couple of great shots just now.’ She glanced up into the branches of the lemon-scented gum tree that towered over them. ‘Ones with the light spearing down creating a dappled effect. I hope to base my painting on that concept.’
‘That’s good.’ His thumb rubbed over and over against a ridged edge on the tripod. Brent forced the movement to a stop. ‘I’m glad you got the material you wanted.’
‘It only took a little while, a bit of waiting for that perfect moment.’ Fiona seemed about to ask him something.
Brent braced, but her glance shifted around the vacant lot, past him, swung left and right and finally moved to the outside perimeter where all the work vehicles had been parked.
‘I guess maybe I took longer than I noticed. The work’s finished.’ She seemed chagrined. ‘They’ve all left. I was so focused on what I was
doing that I didn’t notice. How long did I keep you waiting?’
‘Not long, and I didn’t mind waiting.’ He growled it in a tone that quite likely made her believe the opposite. The truth was, he’d got value out of watching her work. ‘If you’re done here, we can leave now.’
‘Yes. I’m done. Thanks.’ She hustled towards his utility truck.
Brent joined her, opened the passenger door for her and climbed in behind the wheel. ‘The office will be closed by the time we get back, but we’ll get anything from inside that you need. Then, if you’re not too tired, I’d like you to join Linc and Alex and me for dinner so they can hear your impressions of your first day on the job.’
They’d planned for this—to get Fiona’s impressions without giving her too long to think first and maybe fall back on more PC answers rather than simply giving her true impressions.
And it would be fine. Taking her to his brothers would be exactly what he needed to bring this—whatever it was that he experienced when he was near her—back into perspective.
It had probably just been too long since he’d spent time with a woman. There were always offers. They never meant anything more than what they were, and maybe he was starting to feel a little jaded about that.
Brent pushed the thought aside, because there was nothing else for him. And he wasn’t jaded, anyway. ‘Linc and Alex and I all hold shares in each others’ companies. So you’ll be reporting to all of us.’
‘I’d be happy to discuss the day with all of you. Actually, I’d like a chance to bat my reactions around with you, particularly.’ Fiona glanced down at her jeans. ‘I’m grubby, though.’
Brent drove into the traffic. ‘That won’t matter. We’ll be eating at home, and Linc and Alex know we’ll be coming straight from the site.’
‘Then I’m happy to come to dinner and “report in”.’ Fiona smiled. ‘Thanks.’
And Fiona was. Happy. Cheerful. Chatting about the other workers and Brent’s work projects generally as they made their way back to their suburb, where she collected her car from all day parking and followed him to his warehouse home.
