3. Strictly Confidential
3
STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL
Tayla pulled her old Subaru into a parking space outside the Surf Life Saving Club and cut the engine. She sat for a moment, wondering what on earth had just happened. One thing was for sure: Mitchel Harrington with that deep voice—like gravel sprinkled on velvet as Ruby had once described it—was going down. That was the second time he’d messed with her, and he needed to know it wasn’t okay.
She swore under her breath. How could he do this to her parents? They’d been so excited. After two years of little interest, the orchard had finally sold to Mr. Organics next door—the same man she’d once had an enormous crush on. The man their neighbor Norman had always referred to as ‘the boy.’
As a rule, Tayla didn’t get angry. Anger was a wasted emotion that chewed you up inside. But if the past couple of weeks had taught her anything, they’d taught her this: It was okay to be angry, especially with men who pissed you off. Men like Mitchel Harrington, with his tight boxer briefs and white-toothed smile, and Hayden Lockhart—all broken promises and wedding bell blues.
Screw men! She was done .
Tayla stared out at the Pacific, longing for a gray day. Why should the sun keep shining when all this turmoil was smothering her? She opened the car door and flicked off her heels before stepping across the boardwalk and down to the shore, where the flat surf mocked her.
Back home in Sydney, Bondi was her beach of choice. She’d stand in the water, with her skirt hitched up around her thighs and the breakers lapping at her knees, willing herself to take one more step. Some people called it grounding. She called it progress. Thinking about it now, she felt suddenly homesick for the full waves and the many hours spent in the Icebergs Pool, swimming away her blues while the surf crashed over the sea wall.
As she walked along the beach, her thoughts turned to Hayden. What was he doing in his role of new father? Did he help with feeding and bath time and bringing up wind? Or was he too busy at the hospital? Had he already found someone else to enjoy an ‘intellectual relationship’ with? Someone other than her.
The sound of her phone brought her to an abrupt stop. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen before hitting Accept . “Hi, how’s Dad?”
“Not so good today.” Ruby sounded strained, and an image of their father lying in the coronary care unit flashed into Tayla’s mind. “Still, the doctor said to expect this. Anyway, how did you get on? Did you see Mitch?”
“Oh, I saw him all right.”
“Is he still as handsome as ever? That man’s biceps could crush me any day.”
What could Tayla say to that? Of course, the bastard. “Are you alone?”
“Yes. I gather things didn’t go well. You sound stressed.”
Tayla stopped walking, wondering how to lessen the blow for her sister. “Mr. ‘Organics’ Harrington, with those selfsame biceps bulging out of his shirt, can’t settle.”
“What? You’re joking! ”
“I wish. The details are sketchy, but he’s prepared to forfeit the deposit, so it must be serious.”
“No way. He can’t do that.”
“Apparently, he can. What are we going to do? Even if we scrape together the retirement condo money, we can’t let the bank take the orchard. Mum and Dad would be devastated.”
“Shit! We can’t tell them. Not yet. Mum’s a wreck as it is.”
Ruby was right. Now would be the worst possible time to tell their mother, especially when Mitch and his lawyer had given her no details. “I might just pay the man a visit tomorrow. See what on earth’s going on.”
“Good plan. I’m sorry I’m not there to lend a hand, but I can’t leave Auckland at the moment. When do you have to be back in Sydney?”
When hell freezes over. “I’m not sure. I’ve applied for compassionate leave for a few months, just until we find out what’s happening with Dad. Anyway, give him a kiss from me. I’ll try to fly up next weekend. I need to talk to you about Hayden.”
Ruby hesitated. “Okaaay. Are you sure you don’t want to talk now?”
“No. It’s a face-to-face tale of woe. And, Rubes, best if we don’t tell Lisa in the meantime. Just in case she lets something slip.”
“You know me. ‘Strictly confidential’ is my middle name. Call me if you find out anything. Where are you? I can hear seagulls.”
“At the beach, clearing my head of cobwebs.”
“I forgot to ask you how the surfing lessons went.”
Tayla took a deep breath. It had taken her weeks to muster up the courage to book the lessons, and when she finally had, she’d paid straight away so she wouldn’t back out. Now would she ever conquer her fear of open water? “They didn’t. I came home instead. But one day.”
“Just don’t push yourself too hard right now. You have a lot on your plate. ”
“Yeah. Bye, Rubes. Love you.”
When she returned to the car, Tayla noticed the garment bag on the back seat and swallowed hard. It was time to visit the Salvation Army Family Store.
The tish-tish-tish of oscillating sprinklers woke her at 6 a.m.
A self-confessed city girl of late, Tayla had forgotten how noisy living on an orchard could be. She lay there for a moment, resisting the urge to use the bathroom while trying to go back to sleep. But the more she tried, the more the events of yesterday’s meeting crowded her thoughts. Every time Mitchel Harrington appeared in her mind, he stood looking at her, half-naked, with his arms crossed and that sexy grin plastered on his face. Just like the billboard.
Tayla picked up her book and opened it, but after scanning the first few paragraphs, put it down again, her mind racing. Finally admitting defeat, she pushed back the covers and planted her feet on the wooden floorboards.
Shrugging on her robe, she padded through to the kitchen and looked out the window, hoping for a cooler day. But not one cloud floated in the emerging blue.
The evening before, Tayla had pored over the trust’s bank statements and accounts, sipping a glass of pinot as she tried to get a handle on her parents’ financial position. Like everything her father did, the records were meticulous, but that didn’t mean there was any money. Quite the opposite.
While poking around in their affairs didn’t seem right, her mother had no clue when it came to the ‘money side of the business’ as she called it. And Tayla couldn’t talk to her father. Not until he was stronger, anyway.
She wondered what had happened to the harvest payment. They harvested the cherries in December. It was now early February, and the account was in the red by tens of thousands of dollars. There’d been no significant deposits in the past sixty days.
As she turned on the coffee machine, she checked the clock above the kitchen table. Seven fifteen. Too early to call Mr. Billboard, although she considered it. According to her mother, he lived alone in the loft above the packing shed. Tayla wondered why Mitch didn’t live in his late grandfather’s cottage. Perhaps he didn’t want to entertain his conquests in the house where Norman had died.
Thinking about Norman made Tayla’s chest pang. She’d had a fondness for him from the first day they met. And through their mutual love of books and movies, they’d bonded like old friends from another time. Apart from Hayden and her closest friend, Tim, she’d never had that connection with a man.
The night before, Hayden had phoned at some ungodly hour. Despite what he’d done, she missed him. The warmth of his hand on her back, his dry wit, and the way he pulled her in with his smile. But what could he say? ‘Sorry, sweetheart. I thought I’d mentioned I’d gone back to my ex and we were pregnant.’ Had those two important facts completely slipped his mind?
Just like their wedding. The chauffeur-driven limousine, her ivory silk gown, and the engagement ring—now hidden in its box in her underwear drawer. If Ruby hadn’t called to tell her about their father, she might still be waiting at the chapel. Dying of thirst and embarrassment.
A knock on the back door startled her. Pulling her robe tighter across her chest, Tayla listened again. On the second knock, she ran her fingers through her hair and cracked open the door. Mr. Billboard himself stood on the step, an adorable pug puppy at his feet.
“It’s a little early for callers, don’t you think? I’m not even dressed.”
He offered no smile. “I’d like a word. Can I take you out for breakfast? ”
“Have you had a change of heart?” When Mitch looked puzzled, she continued, “About buying the orchard.”
“It’s not about having a change of heart. But a change of circumstances could make all the difference.”
“Meaning?”
He hesitated. “Look, all I’m asking for is thirty minutes. I have something I’d like to discuss.”
The Mitchel Harrington had something to discuss. Great . “After yesterday, I can’t imagine what more there is to say. So, it’s a ‘no’ to breakfast.”
His stare caught her a little off balance. He’d had that effect on her when she was seventeen as well, but she never expected it to be the same nine years later. It was his eyes. Moody blue as the sky on the eve of dusk, and just as mysterious.
“I have an office at the end of the packing shed. Shall we say”—he checked his watch—“nine thirty?”
“This morning doesn’t suit. And I don’t like being summoned.”
“Fine.” He huffed out a sigh, his loss of patience on open display. “Between one and two this afternoon, then?”
“I’ll see.”
“Look, Tayla, be there or not. It’s your call.” He turned, picked up the pup, and walked off without another word.
Tayla shut the back door with more force than intended, his words bouncing around in her head. And although part of her knew she was being unreasonable, by the time she hit the shower, she was mad as hell.
And yet, despite her better judgment, Tayla knew she’d make the meeting. After all, curiosity has its own agenda.