Chapter 8 #2
‘Yes. And he’s on a clock. Your… creative delay tactics are costing him. And you know what that means?’
‘A lot of things, I should imagine.’
‘One in particular that worries me. This situation is enough to make any man ruthless. But Oliver? Winning is everything to him. I don’t like the idea of my sister being on the wrong side of a ruthless man.’
Nor did Lucy. She frowned, tapping her knuckles against her mouth.
‘I need to know what Augustini’s found out about his personal background,’ she said at last. ‘That’ll help me figure out how to handle him. I hope.’
She rose. ‘Thanks, Dan, really. At least now I understand exactly what he wants.’
‘He wants a neat, profitable, tick-box project here so he can unlock the big one in Wellington.’
‘Only problem is, his “neat project” means demolishing the Old Colonial, which is at odds with our vision for the village.’ She blinked and looked up at him. ‘Either he wins or I do. There’s no middle ground, is there?’
Dan shook his head. ‘Doesn’t look like it. Compromise would be… tricky.’
‘Hm.’ For a fractional moment she let herself imagine backing down, imagining a future where she stood aside and let Oliver bulldoze the hotel. Her mind rejected it before the idea had fully formed. Remembering how he’d lied — by omission, but still a lie — settled it.
‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘I have to win.’
‘I’m not sure how you’re going to manage that. You’re dealing with a consummate professional.’
‘I’ve one thing going for me.’
‘Which is?’
‘For some reason, Oliver Perry-Warnes likes me. Even though we’re on opposite sides.’
‘The impression I’ve had is that “like” won’t stop him.
You don’t get to the top of his industry by playing nice.
He needs this project done. He won’t let anything stand in his way.
Sam says he doesn’t just hate losing — he simply doesn’t ever lose.
Lucy, Mr Oliver Perry-Warnes likes winning more than he likes you. Or anyone.’
‘Yes, I’d gathered that.’ She drummed her fingers on the table. ‘But I have to try. Because if he wins, the future of my café is on the line and, with it, all the other shops.’ Her voice thickened. ‘The heart of the community is threatened.’
Dan reached over and pulled her into a hug.
‘I have to try, Dan,’ she said into his shoulder. ‘I just have to.’
‘We all will.’
She looked up. ‘So you’re staying around for a while?’
‘Yeah.’ His grin flashed, the one that made people forgive him anything. ‘Can’t leave you all in the lurch now, can I?’
‘Certainly not. And you’ll have help. I’ve asked Augi to look into his personal life to see if he has an Achilles heel.’
‘Remind me never to be your enemy, Luce,’ Dan said fondly.
‘As if.’
‘Lucy!’ Marcus called from the kitchen. ‘Someone to see you.’
‘Ah,’ said Lucy, finishing her coffee. ‘That’ll be Augi — the librarian I told you about. She’s digging into Public Enemy Number One.’
‘Right. I’ll get on, then.’
They walked through the kitchen into the café.
‘Augi,’ Lucy called, spotting her standing slightly apart from the crowd, self-contained and poised.
Augustini smiled and walked over. Lucy almost went in for a hug, then remembered it wasn’t Augi’s thing.
‘Have you met my brother?’ she asked, turning to Dan.
He stood there with a slightly glazed look on his face. Lucy frowned. ‘This is Dan,’ she said, studying him. He didn’t smile, just looked… somewhere else. She waited for him to speak. He didn’t.
She turned back to Augi, whose olive complexion was a shade warmer than usual. ‘You usually can’t shut him up. If he wasn’t away with the fairies, he’d smile and say, “Good to meet you, Augi,” so let’s take that as read.’
Augi’s entire face lit when she smiled. Her dark eyes crinkled, making her look younger and softer.
‘Dan,’ she said in her accented English, offering her hand. ‘Lovely to meet you.’
Dan cleared his throat. ‘You too.’ It was the least Lucy had heard him say in months.
‘Right,’ Lucy said briskly, deciding she’d had enough of whatever this was, ‘have you had lunch, Augi?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘I haven’t,’ put in Dan quickly.
‘I thought you had somewhere to be.’
‘How can I leave without lunch at my favourite café? Besides, I can work here.’ He tapped his laptop.
She grinned. ‘How convenient.’
‘Isn’t it?’ His tone was innocent; his eyes weren’t.
‘Would you like something to drink, Augi?’
‘Just a black coffee, thanks.’
Of course. Lucy should have guessed. Augi was far too self-disciplined for a chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream.
Lucy grabbed a freshly vacated window table for Dan, giving him a clear line of sight. Her matchmaking skills had once nudged Sam and Jen back together. This would be more of a challenge — older, mysterious, seemingly the opposite of her brother — but not beyond her.
‘Salad, Dan?’
‘Nope. You know me. Pie and chips man.’
‘At least they’re both homemade.’ She gave the order to the chef, adding in a big salad on the quiet. Then she took Augi to another, more secluded table.
‘Thanks for coming, Augi. I really appreciate this.’
‘It’s no problem. I enjoy solving problems. And this one took some solving.’
Lucy glanced at the empty space in front of Augi. No laptop. No bag. No phone. She wondered — briefly and not for the first time — how Augi functioned in the modern world.
‘But you managed it?’
‘Yes. It was an interesting case.’ Augi paused, glancing towards the hotel, then back at Lucy. ‘A sad one, too.’
‘Sad?’ Lucy stared. ‘That’s not what I expected you to say. Oh — I get it. You mean sad for the people he’s walked over?’
Augi’s dark eyes met hers. She shook her head. ‘No. Sad for Oliver. Not many people would have survived his upbringing emotionally intact.’
Something tightened in Lucy’s throat. Her body reacted before her mind could push back; sympathy slid in where she didn’t want it.
‘Oh.’ She cleared her throat. ‘So… what did you find out?’
Lucy sat back, her coffee cooling untouched, as Augi talked.
She told it like a story: the only child of a father who squandered a family fortune and dragged their name through the mud; a mother who left when Oliver was small, with a custody arrangement that left the boy with his father who, it seemed, preferred gambling in Las Vegas to parenting.
Augi described Harvard, then the return to Australia — not New Zealand — to begin a property career where his financial manoeuvres were as legendary as his love life.
‘Oh,’ Lucy said at last. ‘I hadn’t imagined any of that.’
‘Nor I,’ said Augi, taking a sip of water. ‘It’s quite a story. Your Oliver —’
‘He’s not my Oliver,’ Lucy said automatically. Why did everyone think he was?
‘— is certainly strong to have survived a father like that. At best, the father was absent.’
‘And at worst?’
Augi shrugged. ‘The worst possible parent, I think.’
‘I guess that explains the drive. And the…’ Lucy grimaced, ‘take-no-prisoners tactics. Success is non-negotiable.’
‘I think you’re right. Success at any cost.’ Augi’s gaze flicked up over Lucy’s shoulder, and a soft blush rose.
‘Dan!’ Lucy turned to see him standing behind her, eyes pinned on Augi.
‘I thought you’d gone, you’ve been so quiet.
’ She turned fully, studying her brother.
The last time she’d seen that expression had been when he’d found an injured puppy on the beach.
She glanced back at Augi. Nothing injured there — only composed, dignified calm.
‘But while you’re here,’ she said brightly, ‘why don’t you talk to Augi about what you’ve found out about a certain someone?’
She left them, satisfied she’d get a full report later — and maybe a smile or two out of each of them. Dan was very good at putting smiles on women’s faces. She’d have to remind him he was to treat this one with particular care. There would be no collateral damage on her watch.
Back in her office, she shut the door and leaned against it for a moment.
The information from Dan and Augustini was exactly what she’d hoped for: a fuller picture of the man, his business, his pressure points.
Bottom line: he had to make the MacLeod’s Cove project a success. If he didn’t, the biggest development of his career would stall. He’d lose big financially. Men like Oliver didn’t let that happen.
But women like her didn’t let men like Oliver destroy their communities.
And women like her used whatever weapons they had left. In this case, she had one: his interest in her.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
She flicked on her phone and opened his unanswered message. The photo that popped up beside it looked different to her now — same sharp jaw, same cool eyes, but overlaid with a boy alone in a Wellington mansion with staff instead of a loving family.
Sure, that would be great. See you tomorrow.
Then, she put the phone face down and went back to work.