by Miranda Lee
The secretary frowned. ‘Mr Hunter is in a meeting all afternoon. He specifically asked that I not disturb him for anything.’
Tina finally got the wheels straight and bulldozed the pram across the carpet. ‘I doubt he meant me,’ she said, stopping in front of the desk. ‘Or his daughter, here.’
The woman’s eyes widened as she rose to peer over her desk, down into the pram. ‘His…daughter?’ she repeated, startled.
‘That’s right,’ Tina answered crisply. ‘Her name is Bonnie. She’s three months old. Could you please tell Dominic that she’s here and would like to meet her father at long last?’
The secretary blinked, then cleared her throat. ‘Er…perhaps you’d best come into Mr Hunter’s office and I’ll go get him.’
Tina’s smile was icy. ‘What a good idea.’
Dominic Hunter’s office was another surprise. Although the room was huge, the carpet still plush, and the view of Sydney breathtaking, it was an office laid out for working, not impressing. There were several work stations around the walls, each with its own computer, printer, phone, fax and swivel chair. Every computer was still on, winking figures at Tina. Every surface was messy, littered with papers of various kinds. The main desk wasn’t much better.
The secretary made an exasperated sound at the sight of it, shaking her head as she lifted a half-drunk coffee mug from its glossy black surface, Snatching a tissue out of a nearby box, she vigorously rubbed at the stain left behind, muttering ‘truly’ under her breath.
Meanwhile, Tina lowered herself into one of the two empty upright chairs facing the main desk, crossing her long legs and angling the pram closer so she could check that Bonnie was still sleeping.
‘What a good little baby you are,’ she crooned softly as she tucked the pink bunny rug tightly around the tiny feet. When she’d finished, and looked up, it was to find the secretary staring at her as though she’d just landed from Mars.
‘I dare say Mr Hunter will be with you shortly,’ the woman said, and, shaking her head again, left the room, shutting the door behind her.
That same door burst open less than two minutes later, and Tina’s head whipped round to encounter her first view of Bonnie’s father.
Dominic Hunter was even more of a surprise than his secretary, or his office.
Yes, he was tall, as she’d anticipated. And dark-haired. And handsome, in a hard-boned fashion. He even had blue eyes.
But, despite all that, the man glaring at her across the room didn’t fit the picture she’d formed of him in her imagination.
Sarah’s lovers had usually been suave and elegant, perfectly groomed and beautifully dressed. They’d oozed a smooth charm and sophisticated sex appeal which girls of Sarah’s upbringing seemed to find irresistibly attractive.
Dominic Hunter hardly fitted that description.
He marched into the room, a menacingly macho male with his big, broad-shouldered body and close-cropped haircut. The sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled up as though ready for battle, his tie was missing, and the top button around his muscular neck undone. His scowl was such that his dark straight brows momentarily met above his nose.
Frankly, he looked more like a construction site foreman about to bawl out his labourers rather than a successful stockbroker who should have been able to handle even this sticky situation with some aplomb.
Grinding to a halt next to the pram, he glowered, first down at Bonnie and then up at Tina again. ‘I hear you’re claiming this is my daughter!’ he snarled.
Tina refused to be intimidated by this macho bully. She wondered what on earth Sarah had seen in the man. She could only speculate that he came up better in bed than out of it.
‘That’s right,’ she said.
He gave her a look which would have sent poor Sarah running for cover. Tina began to understand why her friend hadn’t approached Bonnie’s biological father for help and support a second time. When this man finished with a woman, he would expect her to stay finished.
But she wasn’t Sarah, was she?
Tina almost smiled as she thought of what Mr Hunter was up against this time. Brother, was he in for a surprise or two of his own!
‘Wait here,’ he growled.
‘I’m certainly not going anywhere,’ she said in a calm voice, and received another of those blistering looks.
Tina didn’t even blink, holding his killer gaze without the slightest waver.
He stared hard at her for several more seconds, then whirled and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Tina sat there, whistling and swinging her left foot. It was to be hoped Mr Macho was out there getting a grip on himself and finding some manners. Or at least some common sense. Because she wasn’t about to go away, not this side of Armageddon!
The minutes ticked steadily away.
Five…
Ten…
Her blood pressure began to rise a little, but she’d been mentally ready for this. She hadn’t expected the man to come to the party willingly, not when he’d already denied paternity, given Sarah money for a termination and sent her on her way.
Frankly, Tina had expected nothing from him, and he was living up to her low opinion of men of his ilk. Obviously she had a fight on her hands to get the financial support she needed to raise Sarah’s daughter in the manner Bonnie deserved.
But she enjoyed a good fight, didn’t she? She was always at her best when her back was against the wall.
The sound of the door finally opening had her swivelling in her chair with an aggressive glint in her eye. How dared he keep her waiting this long?
The sight of two burly security guards entering startled her, then sent her blood pressure sky-high. So that was how he was going to play it, was it?
Gritting her teeth, she stood up and gave the approaching guards a haughty look of disdain. ‘I gather Mr Hunter won’t be returning?’
‘That’s right, ma’am,’ the bigger and older of the two informed her. ‘He said to tell you that next time he’d be calling the police.’
‘Really? Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we? No, that’s not necessary!’ she snapped when the guard who’d spoken forcibly took her by the elbow. ‘I’ll go quietly.’
Despite her protests, the two guards still escorted her till she was outside the building.
She stood there on the pavement for several moments, glaring up at the top floors, struggling to get her temper under control. She imagined the bastard peering back down at her from his lofty position, smug and smirking with triumph.
‘You’ll get yours, Dominic Hunter,’ she threatened under her breath. ‘I’m going to take you to the cleaners!’
Scooping in several deep breaths, Tina forcibly slowed her pounding heart and found some much-needed composure. Her brain finally began ticking over, and she started wondering why Bonnie’s father was so sure of his ground that he would dare have her thrown out. It was a stupid move to bluff about paternity in this day and age.
No matter what else he might be, Dominic Hunter was not stupid.
It suddenly dawned on Tina that he probably believed Sarah had had that termination he’d paid for, which meant he might not have realised Bonnie was the baby Sarah had come to see him about, despite her being the right age. He possibly thought Bonnie was another baby entirely, and she, Tina, was the mother. When he’d stared so hard at her it could have been because he was trying to recall if he’d ever slept with her or not. Since he hadn’t, naturally he’d assumed she was trying to pull off some kind of false paternity suit.
That had to be it!
Tina could have kicked herself. She should have said straight up that she wasn’t the biological mother.
‘Your new mummy’s an idiot,’ she told the now wide-awake infant as she wheeled the pram towards the taxi rank on the corner. ‘But don’t worry, I have a contingency plan. Since I’ve temporarily blotted my copybook with your father, we’ll go see your grandmother and gain entry that way. Yes, I know you’re getting hungry
and wet. I’ll feed and change you in the taxi. I’ve brought everything with me. Bottles. Nappies. Spare clothes. Aren’t you impressed?’
Several passersby glanced over their shoulders at the tall, striking brunette wheeling the brand-new navy pram along the pavement, oblivious of everything but the baby to whom she was talking fifteen to the dozen.
‘Just wait till your nanna sees how beautiful you are. And how good. She won’t be able to resist you. I couldn’t, could I? And look at me? A hard-nosed piece if ever there was one. Or so your real mummy used to say. And she was probably right. But she wasn’t right about my not being able to love anything or anybody. No, my darling, she was quite wrong about that…’
CHAPTER THREE
THE nerve of the woman! The darned nerve!
Dominic fumed as he glared down at the pavement below and watched her pushing the pram down the street. What on earth did she think she was playing at? How did she think she was going to get away with such an outrageous claim? Even if he was one of the unlucky few whose condom had failed, did she honestly imagine that he wouldn’t remember sleeping with someone like her?
She wasn’t the sort of female he would forget in a hurry. For one thing, she was exactly his type. Dominic had always been attracted to tall, slim brunettes with interesting faces and dark, glittering eyes who made it obvious from their first meeting that men were not their favourite species. He liked the challenge of getting them into bed, then watching them abandon their feminist aggression for the short time his sexual know-how—and their own basic needs—overcame their natural antagonism. He’d had several rather lengthy involvements with such women, and prided himself on keeping them as friends afterwards.
Oh, yes, he would have remembered having sex with…damn it all, he didn’t even know her name! She’d only supplied Doris with the name of her baby.
Bonnie.
As if that would mean anything to him!
He watched till she disappeared under a street awning, certain that that would be the last he’d see of her.
Perversely, he almost regretted having had her thrown out so hastily. He should have questioned her further, listened to her tall tale, found out what it was she wanted from him.
Money, he supposed, as he turned from the window and strode across his office towards the door. What else could she possibly have wanted?
He ground to a halt with his hand reaching for the doorknob, his forehead creasing into a frown.
But why had he been the target of her attempted con? It wasn’t as though he had a reputation for indiscriminate and promiscuous behaviour. He certainly wasn’t the sort of man who could be convinced he’d slept with some stranger whilst drunk or under the influence of drugs. He never drank to that much excess and he never took drugs!
Maybe she’d mixed him up with someone else, he speculated. Maybe she was the one who’d forgotten who it was she’d slept with. Maybe the father of her baby was someone else working at Hunter & Associates. Or a stockbroker from another firm. Someone who looked like him, perhaps.
Yes, that had to be it, he decided firmly. It was a case of mistaken identity.
Now, forget her and get back to work, he ordered himself. You’ve wasted enough time for one day!
Mrs Hunter’s address was in Clifton Gardens, an old but exclusive Northshore suburb which hugged Sydney Harbour and where even the simplest house had an asking price of a million.
Mrs Hunter’s house, however, wasn’t simple. It turned out to be a stately sandstone residence, two-storeyed, with a wide wooden verandah. The block was huge, and the gardens, a visual delight, immaculately kept.
Tina frowned at the sight, and the conclusions such a property evoked. Dominic Hunter’s family possessed old money, the kind which inevitably produced people who thought they were a cut above ordinary folk. Arrogance was as natural to them as breathing.
If Mrs Hunter proved to be such a snob, maybe she wouldn’t welcome an illegitimate grandchild into her life, regardless of how adorable Bonnie was. Maybe she would be as sceptical—and as rude—as her son. Maybe she would swiftly show Tina and Bonnie the door, as he had done.
Tina’s resolve wavered only momentarily, her confidence regained by a glance at the beautiful baby in her arms.
No woman in the world could resist Bonnie, she reasoned. Not if she had any kind of heart at all!
Tina was climbing out of the taxi before a second dampening thought occurred to her. What if Dominic Hunter’s mother wasn’t at home?
She’d set about discovering the woman’s existence and her address that morning, after she’d been told by Dominic Hunter’s secretary that she couldn’t see the great man himself that day.
Severely irritated at the time, Tina had swiftly rung Dominic Hunter’s secretary back, putting on an English accent and pretending to be an embarrassed florist who was supposed to deliver flowers to Mr Hunter’s mother that day but had lost her particulars.
At the time, she hadn’t even known if his mother was still of this world. Presuming he did have a mother. It would never surprise Tina to find out that the Dominic Hunters of this world were spawned in a test-tube. Or cloned from some other selfish macho creep with a megalomania complex.
A couple of minutes later she had hung up, with everything she needed to know. Mrs Hunter was still alive and well. And Tina knew where she lived.
She’d been going to go straight to the grandmother, but an indignant anger had sent her to Bonnie’s father first. An impulsive decision.
Turning up on Mrs Hunter’s doorstep without even ringing first wasn’t much better.
Tina sighed. ‘Would you mind waiting a few moments till I check to see if anyone’s at home?’ she asked the taxi driver as he paid him. ‘I just realised the lady of the house might be out.’
‘No sweat,’ the driver said, and walked over to open the front gate for her.
Giving him an appreciative smile, Tina popped Bonnie back in the pram and set off up the paved front path, feeling too nervous now to admire the bloom-filled rose-beds which dotted the spacious front yard. It had been one thing to confront Bonnie’s father. She’d known he was going to be difficult from the start.
His mother was proving a different kettle of fish entirely.
Although Tina tried to feel confident of the woman’s reaction, she really could only hope.
But, oh, how she hoped! She desperately wanted Bonnie to have a grandmother who would lavish love upon her in the way only a grandmother could.
Not that Tina had any personal experience of a grandmother’s love. But she gathered they specialised in the sort of unconditional affection and outrageous spoiling which both she and Sarah had only dreamt about during their growing-up years.
She also wanted Mrs Hunter to talk her son into recognising his daughter and agreeing to help support Bonnie financially, without Tina having to resort to legal pressures.
Pulling the pram to a halt at the base of the four stone steps which led up onto the wide wooden verandah, Tina put on the brake, then left the pram there while she hurried up the steps and rang the front doorbell.
For a nerve-racking twenty seconds, it looked as if no one was home, but then the door opened and there stood a woman of about sixty. Casually dressed in navy slacks and a floral blouse, she was tall and slim, with a handsome face and short, naturally grey hair. Best of all, there was a reassuring softness in her intelligent blue eyes.
‘Yes?’ she said with an enquiring smile.
‘Are you Mrs Hunter?’ Tina asked.
‘Yes, I am, dear. How can I help you?’
The dear did it. And the sweet offer of help. Tina had studied human psychology during the course of her acting career, and had become a pretty good judge in assessing character, especially when it came to women.
Mrs Hunter was no snob, for starters. Most important of all, she was kind.
Smiling with relief, Tina turned and waved to the taxi driver. ‘It’s okay,’ she called. ‘You can go now.’
She turned back, just as the woman spotted the pram at the bottom of the steps. It was facing the house so that she could see Bonnie’s sweet little face quite clearly.
‘Oh, what a beautiful-looking baby!’ she exclaimed, and moved down the steps for a closer look. ‘A girl, I presume?’ she said, glancing up at Tina over her shoulder.
‘Yes.’
‘May I hold her? She’s wide awake.’
‘Please do.’
A warm, squishy feeling settled in Tina’s stomach as she watched the woman carefully scoop her grandchild up and start rocking her. Even after the seven short days Tina had cared for Bonnie she knew nothing enchanted the child more than being held and rocked in just that way. She would never cry while someone was doing that. She would just lie there and gaze up at the person rocking her, a look of total bliss on her lovely little face.
‘What’s her name?’ her unwitting grandmother asked.
‘Bonnie.’
‘And yours, dear?’
‘Tina. Tina Highsmith.’
‘So, what are you selling, Tina?’ Mrs Hunter asked while she smiled down at Bonnie. ‘If you’re an Avon lady, then I’m sorry, but I don’t wear make-up any more other than a bit of lipstick. If you’re with that other mob, then I also already have everything that opens and shuts in the houseware department. My son has no imagination when it comes to presents and always gives me something for the house. He’s into practicality, is Dominic,’ she added ruefully.
‘Actually, Mrs Hunter, I’m not selling anything. And it’s your son, Dominic, I’ve come to see you about.’
This got her attention, startled blue eyes blinking up to stare at Tina. ‘Dominic? Really? What about?’
‘About Bonnie, there,’ she said, nodding towards the baby. Tina swallowed, steeling herself for any possible negative reaction to her next announcement. She could only hope the woman was as nice as she seemed. ‘She…she’s Dominic’s daughter.’
Tina was amazed at the speed and intensity of the various emotions which raced across Mrs Hunter’s face. Shock gave way to a moment’s uninhibited joy, swiftly followed by a deeply troubled concern.