Double Dare

by Saskia Walker

  She decided that evasive tactics were the best strategy. "There's always a certain element of chance, of luck, involved in these matters. I was lucky to have been assigned the Ashburn Portfolio. However, if you thought I could contribute to the Pascal account, I would be willing to join the team out there, for the benefit of the company." She had no intention of going anywhere further than Paris, in the near future. She was calling his bluff with one of her own.

  "Quite so." His expression was tight. He'd obviously realized it wasn't going to be as easy as he'd originally thought.

  Taking up the initiative, she attempted to redirect the conversation. "Incidentally, I've received a request for the end of contract meeting to be brought forward a week. I was surprised by that...I was somewhat concerned about my property investment, but seeing as you were there and let me go ahead with it...have you any comment?"

  Shaking his head, he looked down at his glass. He spoke slowly as if he was thinking of something else, perhaps planning his next maneuver.

  "No. Most clients tend to make a noise when they are displeased, and Adrianna's been quiet since you've been in charge." He gave her a quick smile.

  "Good," she said.

  "I'm aware of the revised date." He glanced up at her. "They want all the relevant staff to be present, myself included." He dismissed the subject wit a gesture of his hand. "Nothing for you to worry your head about." His tone, no doubt meant to be friendly, was unbearably patronizing.

  She nodded, curtly. Now what?

  He put his glass on the table. "I notice you haven't made any flying visits to Geneva, to be with Ed." His voice was low, intimate.

  Aside from annoyance at his assumption about her and Ed, he was again treading a dangerous path into personal territory. And yet she didn't want to deny there was anything going on between her and Ed, in case he took that as some sort of green light. Dear god, how could he put a member of staff in such a position?

  "Is there any particular reason for that, Abby?" He was staring directly at her as he urged her again. This was going to be her telling moment. It struck her how distorted this was. He was verging on sexual harassment.

  She kept her look cool, distant. "The account I'm working on at the moment has to be my priority within the Robertson group. Personal matters—of any sort—should not intrude on the work one does."

  He stared at her then nodded lightly, his expression frozen, revealing nothing. This was like a business negotiation to him.

  "I'm glad you feel that loyalty to your work." He sat back in his chair. "Perhaps when the Ashburn Portfolio has passed the trial period and we have persuaded them to renew the contract, we can all take a breather and relax a bit more?" He gave her a questioning look, a slight hint of annoyance in his expression.

  She adopted what she hoped was an efficient smile and took the chance to stand up and take her leave.

  "Abby."

  She turned back.

  He eyed her up and down, pointed a finger at her and winked over it, as if lining her up in his sights. "Keep up the good work, kiddo, you've got style and I admire that. Remember...I'm watching you."

  Patronizing and blatant—it was all Abby could manage to muster a false smile and walk out of the office without further communication.

  When she got back to her own office she thought about what he'd said. What a farce, what a horrible, tawdry set up. She balked at what had gone on. He'd been the one giving her the creeps. It hadn't been Zac at all. As far as she was concerned today had dotted the i's and crossed the t's on her resignation. She stood at the window, looking out at the view. Yes, it was time to move on. Too much in her life had changed. She was ready.

  Sitting down at her desk, she picked up the phone. After that ghastly business with Tom, she needed a hug. Zac was out of town. Suzanne was too close to this. Her Mum was cruising the Med. She needed to talk to someone though, and soon.

  She tapped Marcy's number in to the phone.

  "Hi Marcy. It's Abby."

  "Hey, sweetie, how you doing?"

  "Oh good, fine." She laughed, feeling suddenly exhausted. "Actually it's been a bit crazy at my end. I wondered if you wanted to do the girl thing and I'll bring some wine."

  "Sounds good to me, this evening?"

  "Thanks, Marcy, I appreciate it. I'll come over to yours around eight."

  * * * *

  Zac pulled onto his parents driveway, pausing a moment before he switched the engine off. He was in a different mood than he had been the last time he'd visited, the week before. He stared at the dash. He was happier than he'd ever been, but at the same time verging on miserable. His life felt like a complete mess. He had to get order back so that things could move forward. Since Abby, he'd lost it. Completely. Not in a bad way, of course, but it was time to sort his head out, make some concrete decisions and take action on them.

  He wanted her badly. Seeing her boss ogling her was the last straw. He wanted Abby for real, whatever that meant. A full-on relationship, he guessed. When he saw her win the bidding, he wanted them to be sharing their workdays, their ups and downs, every moment. No subterfuge. It was all he could manage not to pick up the phone and call her again. But he knew he needed the time away. He needed the space to think straight—he'd got himself into a fine mess, and he had to figure out the best way to resolve it, without making her think he was a demented stalker who had deliberately misled her.

  He'd been knocking a plan about. It was tentative and riddled with possible complications, but his instinct was driving him. At least he hoped it was instinct—and not insanity.

  He had a lot to do before he flew out that evening. Top of the agenda was convincing his Mother he would deal with Monday's contract meeting at Robertson's. When he'd brought the property purchase documents over for her to sign, the day before, she'd been pleased with his level of involvement. She was also eager for the time to pass until the trial period came to an end. He gave a wry smile. No doubt because she couldn't wait to whisk the portfolio back into her own jurisdiction.

  His gut feeling was that he had to be the one to deal with the contract meeting. How the hell he was going to handle it was yet to be decided. Abby's work on the portfolio had been outstanding. He didn't want to jeopardize that by throwing her a curve ball. He wanted to figure out the best approach for Abby. Telling her beforehand could result in chaos for everybody concerned. She had every right to walk out on both him and her boss. Not telling her at all went against his conscience. He wanted to do the right thing regarding Abby, but timing was crucial.

  He'd suggested Paris on the spur of the moment, but even now he felt it was the right thing to do. He wanted to be somewhere with her that was away from their real lives and all their intricate complications. He wanted time with Abby, the woman. Not Abigail Douglas the investment manager who would find out exactly how entwined their lives were, in just a few days time. He had to know how she really felt before that moment, and whether she wanted more from their relationship as much as he did. If she did, and his instincts had been well founded, he'd find a way to make it happen. He flipped off his shades and got out of the car.

  As he approached the terrace he caught the sound of music spilling out of the house. Dimitri, his father, was sitting on the loungers, his thick, silvering hair falling forward as he brooded over a newspaper. When he caught sight of his son his face lit. He dropped the paper and stood, his arms outstretched in greeting.

  "What a surprise."

  "It is. And it's good to find you at home. The restaurants are coping without you?" Zac quizzed as he embraced his father.

  "Apparently so." His father shrugged it off, laughing. He was so much more amenable than his mother about passing the baton.

  In the background the music changed to what sounded like tinkling waterfalls. Zac nodded towards the house. "What's that I hear?"

  "Your mother." He rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Come and look, I guarantee you won't believe your eyes."

  He was right. There on t
he hidden, private lawn at the side of the house his mother stood, wearing what looked like a karate suit, with her arms outstretched as if bathing in the music that came from the speaker at the window.

  "What the hell is she doing?"

  "Tai Chi."

  Sure enough, she changed position.

  "We'd better not disturb her. Come, we'll wait on the patio."

  "I was talking to Joseph Sullivan the other night," Zac said, as they walked, "he mentioned that you were looking at a new bistro."

  His dad glanced over his shoulder, as if he expected his wife to appear by his side at the mention of business. "It was tempting, but I want to stick to my side of the bargain. No more expansion."

  Zac smiled. His father had tried everything with Adrianna. Agreeing to limit his own work was just one method.

  "Were you at one of the restaurants?"

  "I was, but I bumped into Joseph at a pub in the city, he was doing an extra shift there."

  He shook his head as he sat down. "So I hear. I'm worried about him."

  "Why not give him the extra shifts he wants?"

  "I think he should be with his wife at this time. He doesn't have to worry about money, I told him so, but it seems to be part of his make up."

  "He's only going to do the hours elsewhere, somewhere he won't get overtime rates, and he'd rather be working an extra shift in his own job. Why not ask him for a bit of extra work to prep the cellar supplies for the time he'll be away on paternal leave?"

  "Not a bad idea, and I suppose you're right." His father looked at him with a curious glance. "You're good with people, Zac. I try too hard to make them what I want them to be."

  "You can't force other people to live by your ideals. You can offer them options, but there has to be some level of compromise,"

  "Yes, but we all try. It's part of being older and thinking you're wiser, at least that's my excuse." He gave a wry smile. "You seem to have hit the nail on the head though. I'm proud of you, son."

  "I know that and I'm glad."

  "I understand you're also overseeing the investment management for your mother?"

  In more ways than one, Zac thought to himself, frowning. "She told you?" He was surprised.

  His father nodded.

  "That's what I came to discuss today."

  "Not trouble, I hope?"

  "No, well, I hope not." He'd come here with a deal, one that might or might not be negotiable.

  "Your mother is finally starting to let go of it and relax."

  "So I saw."

  "Incredible, huh?" He beamed.

  "It is, yes." Did that bode well?

  Later, when she joined them, he noticed that she looked better than she had in a long while. Could a week really make that much different in a person's life, changing their attitude, changing what was important to them?

  Even as the question ran through his mind, he realized it could, because it had happened to him—and the realization hit him like an unexpected left hook. He'd not only fallen for Abby, but she had changed his life, his priorities and goals. Most of all his desires—her, he wanted to keep her as part of his life.

  "You look startled, Zachary," she said as she joined them.

  He shrugged. "Yes, I'm surprised to see you like this, so chilled, but then I suppose it might be possible." He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his tone, mostly self-deprecating.

  "Having someone I know and love in charge of things did make it easier, I confess." Her eyes glistened with emotion, even though she was smiling.

  The tenderness he saw in her expression made his gut churn. What would she think if she knew how unprofessional he'd been, that he'd been having an affair with their agent, that he'd been involved in some sort of masquerade?

  A masquerade, yes, and for what?

  It all came crashing in on him. He'd been kidding himself that it was because he mistrusted Abby's motives. At first, maybe, but he'd quickly seen how honest, loyal and hardworking she was. No, his real reason for the masquerade was selfish. He was falling in love with her and he couldn't step away, no matter how unprofessional it was. No matter how duplicitous it was not to have told her who he was, that he was the one replying to her daily reports.

  His father was stroking his mother's hand, smiling happily. Zac hadn't seen them this way since he was a child, when they'd been happy and carefree. He wanted them to stay like this, to have that closeness again. Lord knows they'd earned it. And he couldn't help hankering after a taste of it for himself, too.

  He shifted in his chair. "Mother, I will find a way for this to work. I'll take full responsibility for your company from this moment on. You'll have to put your trust in me though. I want that to be total, and I want it right away. If you do, I promise I won't let you down." He hoped to god that he wasn't promising her something he wouldn't be able to deliver.

  Curiosity lit her wise eyes. She looked at him for further explanation.

  "I want to represent you at the board meeting. I've got involved with the management now and I want to be the one to deal with Robertson, under my own terms. I've notified them that we want the meeting brought forward, I'm ready to give them notice."

  His father darted a glance at her with uncertainty, his brow furrowed.

  It was what she'd wanted, but at the same time it was a big step, handing over her whole life's work. A company she'd built from one property deal she'd made as a young woman who'd inherited two hundred pounds from a distant great-uncle and found a way to make it work for her. Was she ready to pass it all over on the turn of one promise? No matter how much she had wanted him to get involved, it was as her agent, her representative. What he was asking for was very different.

  She looked thoughtful, but calm.

  His father lifted her hand and raised it to his lips.

  She smiled at him fondly. "I suspect you two have been plotting this together."

  His father shook his head. "Zac is taking a big step, but this is a decision only he could make for himself." He glanced back at his son. "But I admire him for doing so, and I'm grateful for what he offers us, if you will accept it on his terms."

  She gave a deep sigh. "Yes, Zac, and I suppose you're right. If you take over, you don't want your old mother meddling in things."

  He shook his head. "That's not why–"

  She put up her hand to stop him. "It's all or nothing. Always has been."

  "Do you trust me to deal with it?"

  She nodded. "I trust you to deal with it." There was a moment's silence, wherein the three of them took in the significance of what had been said. "This calls for a celebration," she added. "Do we have champagne?"

  His father stood, darting off with a decidedly cheerful look on his face.

  When he'd gone, she leaned over to Zac. "I knew that once you got involved, you wouldn't be able to resist," she whispered to him, proudly.

  The sense of happy resolve in her expression was too good. He didn't want to shatter it or any of her illusions. It wasn't quite as simple as that, but there was a way to make it just as agreeable.

  There was no turning back now. If he wanted to keep the company on an even keel and win Abby, he had to see his plan through.

  Chapter Ten

  "So let me get this straight." Marcy grabbed the bottle, topping up their wine glasses. "You've met this hunk—and he sounds pretty damn sexy, I agree—but then you thought he was following you, but it turned out to be your boss?" She put the bottle down and pulled her khaki tank top and shorts straight as she resumed her cross-legged pose.

  Abby frowned. "Well, yes, that doesn't sound quite right, but basically that's it."

  "I want to hear more about the hunk in a minute, but Abby—your boss?" Her eyes rounded. "I mean...you poor love. You're going to need the name of a solicitor, aren't you?" She was deadly serious.

  "No, don't worry. I'm not going to let it go that far. At the moment he hasn't really stepped out of line. He's hinting like crazy and he's been taking an interest in wh
at I'm doing, above and beyond what would be considered normal, but it wouldn't stand up at an employment tribunal. I'm not going to let it go any further though. I'm out of there."

  "No, don't let the bastard push you out of your job." Marcy was starting to look irate.

  Abby shook her head and reached out for Marcy's hand, squeezing it. "He isn't. I've had itchy feet for a while. This has just given me that extra push. I've always had this dream about having my own company. I think I'm ready."

  Marcy's expression softened and she squeezed Abby's hand back. "Well, that's good news. But if he does anything before you move on, just walk out that door. Promise me."

  "I promise."

  "Good." She picked up her wine and took a sip. "Now, back to the hunk." She smiled. "I think you'd better start at the beginning. And don't skimp on the details."

  "He walked into my life one day and it hasn't been the same since."

  Marcy waved her hand. "Describe him. I need an image to work with."

  Abby chuckled. "Tall, dark and handsome, cheekbones to die for. Black hair, blue eyes, unusual. He's part Greek."

  Marcy lolled back against her cushions, then rolled towards the portable fan that she had stood next to them, flicking the speed up a notch.

  Abby shuffled. Her dress was riding up on her thigh. She wasn't dressed right for sprawling on the floor but she didn't care, the wine saw to that. She felt as if they were sitting in a harem. Marcy had a big Persian rug in the middle of her sitting room floor with massive scatter cushions for seating. The heat and the fan gave it that exotic edge—women talking together in the harem, women talking about sex and desire.

  "There was an instant connection, it wasn't just an attraction, and it was like we connected on some other plane."

  "Oh dear, Abby's in love."

  It was so odd hearing it said aloud. "Do you think so?" She knew the answer, but she needed to hear the verification again.

  Marcy raised an eyebrow. "Tell me more about the connection, how did you meet?"