Engaging the Enemy Read online

  Not like my father.

  ‘You will stay for dinner? Your father will be home soon.’

  ‘He isn’t here? But I thought—’

  Monique slid an arm around Andie’s shoulders and gently squeezed. ‘He works from the office in town now.’

  ‘But why? That’s near The Shelter.’

  Monique smiled. ‘You’ve answered your own question.’

  Andie’s throat constricted and her stomach muscles tightened at the thought. ‘So he can keep an eye on me. Of course, he doesn’t trust me.’ And that was the crux of her problem with her father.

  ‘I do need to talk to him about The Shelter. Will he be home soon?’

  ‘I hope so, ma cherie. I hope so. Come out to the pool deck and have a glass of wine with me.’

  Heat rose from the patterned pavers as they stepped from the climate-controlled interior through French doors onto the pool deck. Hibiscus rioted in colourful profusion around the Greek-style columns at the end of the free-form pool and spa.

  ‘Voilà, Andie. Your favourite sav blanc.’ Monique poured two glasses of wine, capped the bottle and replaced it in the fridge. She strolled over and offered a glass. Andie accepted the wine and touched her glass to Monique’s.

  ‘Cheers.’

  ‘Monique? Where are you, love?’

  Familiar bands of tension tightened in Andie’s temple and her stomach clenched at the sound of her father’s voice.

  ‘I’ve brought…’

  He stopped abruptly as their gazes clashed, his features frozen in open-mouthed surprise and…what? On anyone else she’d have called it hope but she had no word for the expression that crossed her father’s face. Silence hung heavily and her heart lurched at sight of him, from anger she supposed, anger that he appeared so calm when she was a bundle of hurt and betrayal.

  By him! Play it cool, Andie. He doesn’t care and neither do you.

  Keeping a tight rein on her runaway emotions, she offered a cool greeting. ‘Hello, Father.’ She sipped her wine and then, with careful deliberation, placed her glass on the table. ‘You sold the building.’

  His expression settled into familiar neutrality. ‘I did what had to be done.’

  ‘A promise is a promise. You taught me that. Never say what you don’t mean — your own words, Father!’ Heat rose in her cheeks. The injustice of it galled her. ‘This is hypocritical, even for you.’

  ‘Andie, girl, I had no choice.’

  The lump in her throat grew until she could hardly breathe around it and she turned away, seeking the view of the pool to calm her. She dragged in a deep, steadying breath, sniffed, then turned to face her father.

  ‘I need four more weeks in the building. My approval will be through by then and I’ll be out of your hair. Mahoney’s demanding his rent. Will you loan me the money?’

  Her father frowned and narrowed his gaze. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Or won’t? Why did I even try?’ Despair invaded her body, sat on her shoulders and wrapped around her until she wanted to sink into the ground under its weight. ‘Without the building we won’t get council approval.’

  ‘I had no choice, Andie.’

  ‘That’s it then. I’ll see myself out. Thanks for the wine, Monique.’

  ‘It had to be this way.’

  ‘It didn’t. You just wanted it like this. You don’t care about me…us.’ Sobs welled within her aching chest. She had to get out before she gave him the satisfaction of seeing what he could do to her. ‘Goodbye, Father.’

  Blindly she stumbled through the French doors into the shadowy day room. Strong arms gripped her shoulders, steadying her as she barrelled straight into a broad male chest. Familiar cologne wafted around her. Through her tears, she looked up into Matt Mahoney’s intense blue eyes.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  For a moment, the warmth of his hold on her bare arms offered a haven, wrapping around her like the heat he’d generated the night she’d cleaned his jacket. The moments when she’d thought of him only as Wrong Matt. When he’d asked why she’d wanted to meet him.

  I can think of one or two reasons. She looked at two of those reasons she’d had wicked thoughts about twitching close to her face.

  He’s Wrong Matt. All wrong.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Catching you. Do you ever not answer a question with a question?’

  The ghost of a smile tipped up one side of his mouth. Was he laughing at her?

  A tiny flame of anger burst into life. How dare he? How dare he laugh when her world had fallen apart? If he hadn’t come along offering to buy her building, The Shelter would be safe and so would their accreditation.

  Probably.

  Upset and desperate to be anywhere but here, she knew her tone was rude but the angry words tumbled out. ‘Why are you here?’

  His grin melted away but she continued. ‘Turning the thumb screws further, are you?’

  ‘Your father asked me to call.’

  ‘Why on earth would he want to talk to you?’

  Think, Andie. Why is the key.

  Only a heritage-listed building linked the two men. One building and a lone woman resisting them. Chill fingers played up her spine as the knowledge sank in.

  ‘Silly me. It’s all about the money, isn’t it? You want me out of your building and you think he’ll help get rid of us. Well, dream on, Mr Mahoney. He helps nobody. Like you, other people don’t matter to him.’

  His hold tightened on her shoulders and she winced. ‘Too bad if you don’t like hearing the truth.’ She was through with tip-toeing around people who cared nothing for the work of others and she pressed home her advantage. ‘You can dish it out but you don’t like getting it back, do you?’

  He sucked in a breath. Stony-faced, his shoulders stiffened under the dark business suit. ‘You know nothing about me, Trouble.’

  ‘Don’t call me Trouble or I’ll show you what real trouble is. And you know what, Mahoney? I don’t want to know more about you. You’re going to kick out defenceless women and children because we’re holding up your demolition of a heritage site. That’s more than enough.’

  ‘I’m not demolishing it. I’m—’

  ‘Save it, Mahoney. Tell someone who’s interested.’

  He released his hold but remained immobile, blocking her way. ‘I’m glad to see you aren’t hurt, Miss de Villiers. Please, don’t let me keep you. I’ll see you tomorrow. For your rent or to assist you to move out.’

  Andie rubbed her arm where moments earlier his hand had heated her skin. ‘You’re as unfeeling as he is. I’ll bet if they opened you up, in place of a heart there’d be a block of ice. Just like him.’

  Matt’s gaze flicked over her shoulder. A soft gasp came from behind her and the door knocked against the wall.

  ‘Mr de Villiers, good evening.’

  Shivers ran up her spine. Her father?

  Serve him right for eavesdropping.

  But her heart thumped as she stepped around Mahoney and headed to the door to make a dignified exit.

  Jordan’s dear little face came to mind along with his mum, and the others. The spark set by Mahoney’s uncaring grin blazed into an inferno as she wondered how she would tell them.

  Go? Drat the man. I’m not giving in to him that easily. Dignity be damned.

  If Mahoney wanted a fight, she’d give it to him. She paused, her fingers gripping the door jamb. Unwilling to look at either man again, she spoke over her shoulder.

  ‘But don’t expect us to go quietly.’

  Chapter Six

  ‘Speak up, boyo. Are you standing in the middle of the road for heaven’s sake?’ Matt pressed the phone closer and blocked his other ear with a finger. Through the connection a truck roared so loudly he glanced up, half expecting to see it bearing down on him.

  ‘The news isn’t good, Matt. Your mother’s blood pressure’s up and the doc says she’s suffered an arrhythmic attack.’

  Dread tightened his gut, and guil
t curled round his heart and stole his breath. How much more could she survive? If only she’d agree to come out to Australia where he could care for her.

  ‘I’ll fly to Donegal the first flight I can get. Thanks, Mick.’ Matt ended the call. Back to Donegal only a month after his last trip. It was no hardship, but where would that leave the renovations? Would he ever get Ma’s childhood home ready for her to move into?

  And who needs the home more, you or Ma?

  Deep in thought, he leaned on the bonnet of his car, pressing the button to release his coded key, then flicking it back with his forefinger.

  Somehow, he had to convince his mother to come back with him. If only he could get her away from the cold and damp of Donegal. Another winter there would be too risky for her health.

  How to convince her to leave Ireland and live with him still eluded him.

  Guilt stabbed deep, shattering the adrenaline rush sparring with Trouble always seemed to give him. Careful handling might lead her to accept his offer of another property since he was sure her father had just refused her request. But who knew how she’d react?

  He clicked the app on his phone and scrolled through flights, both direct to Ireland and those routed through Heathrow. Tomorrow evening was the earliest he could leave. He checked his watch. Might he talk with his mother now?

  If she was up to talking.

  Heart thumping, he hit number one on speed dial. It rang four times, five. He was about to disconnect after the sixth ring when she answered, her sleepy hello more welcome than sunshine on a winter’s day. The essence of Donegal was in her voice, the upward inflection reassuring him that her state of mind was good.

  Please let me convince her to come out here.

  ‘Ma, how are you, my darlin’?’

  ‘Is it yourself, Matt? ‘Tis good to hear your voice.’

  ‘I’m catching a flight to see you tomorrow and—’

  ‘Now why would you be doing that? Did that Mick pitch you some blarney about me taking a turn?’

  She could read him like a book, even from thirteen thousand miles away.

  ‘I hope you’re taking it easy, Ma. Resting.’

  ‘You want me to rest. Oh, ‘tis a shame an’ all when I’m thinking of coming out to see you.’

  His heart pounded. She was coming out? How long had he tried to convince her and here she casually dropped her change of mind into the conversation.

  ‘Do you mean that?’

  ‘Well I wouldn’t be sayin’ it if I didn’t mean it now, would I? Only–’

  ‘Only what?’

  ‘Well, I’m wanting it to be a special occasion if I’m travelling all that way around the world.’

  ‘Isn’t it special enough to visit your son? You could stay for the summer.’

  ‘That girl you said you were seeing, is it serious? Do you like her, Matt?’

  What girl? Felicity? Or was it Kris who he’d mentioned in passing to his mother? Desperate to lure her out, he vaguely remembered offering the temptation of a girl he was going out with. Ma had him married off at the second date with a large family before the third.

  ‘Only I’d like to hold my grandchild in my arms before I go. I’m not getting any younger, you know.’

  ‘Ma!’

  ‘Make an old woman happy, and tell me you’re getting married soon.’

  How could he do that? Turn his life upside down to please Ma?

  How can I not?

  Late afternoon sunlight edged the low clouds with gold and turned their centres rosy pink. Pink — red — red curls.

  A kick of pleasure surprised him, tipping him off balance. Trouble?

  If he convinced Ma to come out because he was engaged, she could stay in his apartment and oversee the redecorating of her old home.

  If he convinced Trouble to be his pretend fiancée, he could offer her a compromise. She could stay in the building until her accreditation came through while his team worked around her families. The renovations could begin and the pressure would be off.

  The challenge would be to convince two stubborn females to accept the idea of his engagement. Ma would be easy. She’d believe it because she wanted to, but would Trouble agree to the deception to hold on to the building? He’d a strong notion she abhorred lies in any form. But would she help him, for the greater good?

  Why not? It’s a win–win situation.

  ‘Well now, Ma, you might just have a nice surprise when you arrive. I won’t tell you more. You’ll have to come and see for yourself. I’ll arrange your ticket myself.’

  ‘I’ll do the arranging, son. You just work on that surprise.’ Hope and pleasure wove through her words.

  If Trouble didn’t agree to his hare-brained idea then the deed to Ma’s old home would be the best surprise he could offer. He grinned at the thought of himself and Trouble in a relationship, even play-acting.

  There’ll be plenty of fun pretending it’s real.

  An image of Trouble’s pert bottom below a tool belt flew through his imagination and he groaned.

  Fun, yes, but would he survive it?

  Chapter Seven

  Lexie tossed the pen onto the neat list on her desk and leaned back, rubbing her eyes. ‘We’ll start ringing around in the morning and place them wherever we can. Some will have to be split up.’

  ‘Separate siblings from each other you mean? Oh no.’

  ‘It’s not great, but it’s the best we can do for now. I just wish there was another way to stall Mahoney’s eviction notice.’ Lexie turned back to her note pad and scribbled a couple of names beside the numbers already listed. ‘I think the place out Werribee way might have space for two.’

  Andie paced to the window. The neon sign for the pizza shop on the alley corner flickered, illuminating the graffiti-covered wall opposite. Irritated, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cool glass. It eased the throbbing in her aching head as she wished yet again for a fairy godmother to float in and wave her wand. Splitting families was not an option.

  ‘If we get the 7.30 Report interested, and drum up strong public opinion, Mahoney will be forced to back off.’

  ‘Do you really want to bring the media in, Andie? Have you thought what that will mean?’ Disbelief underscored Lexie’s question.

  Andie spun around to confront her best friend. ‘You were the one who said we’d do whatever it took. Now you’re backing out?’

  ‘Just trying to keep it real here. You understand they’ll want to film mums with kids clinging to them, don’t you? You know the angles they’ll aim for. Are you so pissed off with Mahoney that you’d expose Sami and the other mums to that? And their kids? And what about Jordan? What if his father sees him on television? What do you think will happen then?’

  ‘We won’t let them be seen.’

  ‘Don’t be naïve, Andie. How long do you think we can keep the kids inside when there’re cameras and excitement outside? Jordan’s dad would be the first one down here demanding they return with him.’

  ‘Then we’ll explain to the film crew that they can’t be identified. Our accreditation won’t come through if we’re kicked out of here. Then what use will we be to them?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘Lexie, we’ve got to do something.’

  ‘Not at their expense.’

  The finality of Lexie’s response dampened the rest of Andie’s anger. ‘My father promised the use of the building for six months. Now in every sense of the word, Mahoney’s knocking the walls down around us.’

  And there isn’t a damned thing we can do to stop him.

  Andie rested her hands beside her hips and leaned back against the window sill. The beaded bracelet Jordan had threaded for her slid down to her wrist.

  Jordan, with his cheeky smile and quick hugs. How could she contemplate a course of action that endangered him? Or any of them? If safety meant families separated for a while, they would have to accept it was so.

  Running her fingers between the bracelet’s be
ads and her skin, stretching and relaxing the elastic, she met Lexie’s calm expression. ‘No. Not at their expense.’

  Andie crossed to the permanently set-up cot bed and flopped onto it. ‘There’s no more economies we can make. This is as lean an operation as it can be.’

  ‘And no money to pay Mahoney. Face it, hon, our options have run out.’

  But giving up hurt so damned bad it was a physical ache.

  Heavy-headed, Andie pushed her weary body off the bed and trudged to the door. ‘Demolish this building, will he? I wish I could feed Mahoney to the wolves.’

  ‘Andie…? What if — it wasn’t about them?’ Lexie’s voice quivered with repressed excitement.

  Hardly daring to hope, Andie stopped, door knob in hand and turned. Had her clever friend thought of something?

  Lexie’s cheeks flushed with unfamiliar colour. ‘Maybe we’re approaching this from the wrong angle.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘You said it — demolition. It’s a long shot, but if we focus on the heritage aspect of Mahoney’s plans, we could stall long enough for the accreditation to come through. Knocking down the building must be against the interim orders. He can’t have had time to appeal it.’

  ‘The environmental vandal approach — Lexie, you’re a genius. Save the mums and sacrifice the developer.’

  Lexie strode to the filing cabinet and wrenched open the second top drawer. ‘Where’s that interim order? What did it say about—?’

  Fingers flying over the tabs, Lexie rifled through the filing drawer. ‘Preservation of listed buildings is a hot topic since the crazy Russian knocked down the Roses pub in the middle of the night.’

  She pulled out a buff-coloured folder and flipped through the top few pages. ‘It’s here somewhere…’

  Andie craned around her shoulder, scanning as Lexie’s finger traced down the paragraphs of the council letter.

  ‘There.’ Andie stabbed at the date in the last but one paragraph, smiled and thumped Lexie on the back. ‘Mahoney can’t demolish the building. He can’t touch the external walls at all and needs council approval for all internal work. He can’t demolish the building.’