They were private, a glimpse into the love and loss between two people who loved at the wrong time. A couple destined to be torn apart.
She couldn’t help wondering whether it would be the same for her and Josh. He wouldn’t suffer her betrayal in silence. He’d come for her with all guns blazing, unless she could somehow satisfy Irene’s demands without him finding out.
Somehow, she didn’t fancy her chances.
Irene had celebrated a birthday over the weekend, and Callie had promised to stop in and see her at home after work on Monday. As she drove over the Harbour Bridge to their Northcote Point address, she couldn’t help but keep an eye on her rearview mirror. Her double life was beginning to mess with her mind, and she castigated herself as a paranoic fool for believing that Josh even suspected her of any duplicity. He wasn’t the kind of man to put a tail on her. Oh, no. If he had any idea of what she was up to, he’d confront her, up front and personal, and demand his answers in no uncertain terms.
Callie’s heart ached with the fear of him finding out. The more time she spent with him, the more she could feel herself falling in love with him, piece by inexorable piece. And she knew that was a recipe for disaster. To even begin to think that her love might be returned was destined for failure. She was in an untenable position unless she told Irene she could no longer fulfil her promise.
The very thought filled her with trepidation. She owed Irene everything and she’d felt honour-bound to repay the older woman with her loyalty. All of which made what she was about to do very, very difficult. She couldn’t go through with it. Not any longer. Irene’s obsession with Josh Tremont was unfounded. The two corporations worked on the same playing field, competed for the same work, time and time again. Yes, Josh had had a mole in the Palmer Enterprises structure, which weakened their chances, but now that that mole had been exposed, surely Irene could let go of her fears and rely on the Palmers’ business acumen and longstanding reputation to hold their own.
And let Callie fall in love with Josh.
Callie gripped the steering wheel tight as she took the turnoff that led to the cliff-top home of the Palmer family. She wondered how they’d feel, leaving it all behind to take up the consular position in Guildara.
She punched in the security code at the gate and coasted down the driveway, all the while fighting back the nerves that threatened to send her stomach into orbit.
Irene was her usual impeccable self, rising from the sofa in the formal lounge as Callie was shown in.
“How are you, my dear?” she asked, bussing Callie on the cheek as she greeted her. “You look tired. I hope that man isn’t demanding too much of you.”
No more than she willingly gave him, Callie thought to herself as she forced a smile and shook her head.
Irene exclaimed over Callie’s gift to her, a vintage Chanel handbag they’d seen on a shopping expedition together months earlier. It had cost far more than Callie would ordinarily spend on a gift, but Irene was worth it. Without her steady hand guiding Callie’s life, who knew where she’d have ended up?
“Callie, it’s beautiful. How clever of you to remember how much I liked this. Here,” she said, handing Callie the birthday card she’d included with the gift, “pop this up on the mantel with the others.”
Callie took the card and crossed the room to the wide white marble fireplace. She put her card among the colourful collection already there and idly picked up the card next to it to read the message inside.
It was from Bruce Palmer to Irene. The usual generic kind of card a husband bought for his wife, but personalised with his own message inside. In his own handwriting. Handwriting that was suddenly far too familiar. Handwriting Callie had seen only yesterday in passionate declarations of love to another woman.
Her heart shuddered to a halt in her chest, kick-starting again with an erratic beat that made her fingers suddenly nerveless and saw the card flutter from her hands to the floor.
She bent to pick the card up again, and studied the lettering once more. There was no mistake. His distinctive slanting hand leapt from the card, damning him with every stroke. Ignoring her instinct to rent the card in two, Callie carefully placed it back on the mantel, barely able to draw breath.
“Are you all right, dear? You’re very pale.”
Irene’s voice swam through the fog in Callie’s mind. Callie had to get out of there. She couldn’t stay and go through the motions of a late-afternoon tea with the woman who’d been deceived by her husband for more than thirty-five years.
It was all too much. Somehow she had to gather her thoughts together and she knew she couldn’t do that with Irene sitting directly opposite her. Not today. Not when the realisation was all too raw and monumental in her mind.
“Actually, if you don’t mind I won’t stay, Irene. I’m sorry, but I’m really not feeling all that well. Can I call you a bit later in the week?”
“Certainly, but will you be all right to drive home?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine. I think I need an early night is all. Again, I’m very sorry.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Irene said. “We’ll catch up before the weekend and you can get me up-to-date on Tremont at the same time.”
How she made it out to her car and safely home was a mystery to her, but the instant Callie set foot inside her house she crumbled. On legs that had the consistency of overcooked spaghetti she made it up the stairs to her bedroom where she threw herself onto her covers and lay, eyes burning, staring at the ceiling.
The truth stared her starkly in the face. Bruce Palmer had to be the married man Josh’s mum had had the affair with.
Bruce was Josh’s father.
Callie couldn’t reconcile the head of Palmer Enterprises with the man whose intimate thoughts she’d read in a letter to his mistress. Nor could she reconcile that man, the lover, with the one who’d rejected both his mistress and his unborn child so callously.
Josh Tremont and Adam Palmer were about the same age. Irene had obviously gotten pregnant around the same time as Josh’s mother, and with the benefit of a legitimate heir in his near future, Bruce had clearly chosen to shun the woman he’d professed to love.
Or had it all been a lie, as Josh had said? Had he never loved Josh’s mother? Had he just seen a pretty face in the workplace and, using the power and charisma of his position, wooed her into his bed?
It just didn’t seem right. Bruce Palmer had always had such a dignity about him. She knew about the loss of one of his twin sons shortly after birth and had been told that afterwards he’d poured himself heart and soul into his work, almost at the expense of everything and everyone else.
Were those the actions of a man who’d discarded his illegitimate child without another thought? It just didn’t feel right. And yet, it had happened. Josh had the proof. He had the curt letter of dismissal, the cheque his mother had never cashed, all there in the bundle of letters.
Callie’s heart ached for Josh and for his dead mother. They’d had nothing and no one but each other, and they could have had so much more. Bruce Palmer could have ensured their financial security with very little hardship to himself. It would have been the right thing to do. The honourable thing to do.
Suddenly, Callie was faced with the awful truth that a man she’d long admired was not who she’d thought he was. Above all else, what could she now tell Irene? The woman expected answers, truthful answers.
Bile rose in Callie’s throat, forcing her upright and into her bathroom. She clung to the cold surface of her bathroom vanity as thoughts tumbled through her head, one after the other.
Now she understood Josh’s relentless pursuit of Palmer Enterprises and his apparent aim of bringing the company down around Bruce’s ears. Fear made her stomach lurch and Callie fought to keep it under control.
What did Josh plan to do, she wondered? At what stage would he play out the final stages of a drama she had no doubt he’d planned for years. He’d said he would force his father to publicly ackn
owledge him. He obviously planned to use the letters to do so.
Realisation dawned. She knew exactly when Josh planned to go public. At the time it would do the most damage to Bruce’s credibility. The consul announcement would be made on Christmas Eve and she knew there’d be much feting and fanfare surrounding it. The truth about Bruce’s behaviour—about the woman he’d used and discarded and the son he’d ignored—would be blown into the stratosphere of tabloid gossip.
The Palmers stood to lose everything they held dear.
Callie ran cold water in the basin and splashed it against her face. What should she do now? Did she go to Irene and tell her the truth? Shatter the very foundation of what she’d built her life around? Tears filled Callie’s eyes and began to tumble in a steady stream down her cheeks as she realised she could never be the one to destroy Irene’s world. Not when Irene had been the one to create one for Callie.
So where did that leave her? Did she warn Bruce that his bastard son was hell-bent on revenge? Or could she forestall Josh, confront him about his father? Beg him to withdraw from the retribution that was honestly his? By her reckoning she had four weeks before the announcement was due to be made. That was four weeks in which she had to turn things around. Right now she had no idea what to do.
“What do you mean Palmers beat us to the punch on this one? We had this deal all but signed.”
Josh glared at the assembled management team in the boardroom and scoured their faces for any hint of what had gone wrong.
“Josh, we don’t understand it ourselves. Somehow they must have gotten an inside track on our proposal,” one of the executives offered.
An inside track? Josh pondered the ramifications of that suggestion for a split second before speaking again.
“Is there any way we can block them? Go lower? Offer more?”
“It’s a done deal. The trade ministry has signed off on it already.”
Josh swore, long and low, before dismissing his team.
“This had better not happen again,” he growled to his legal advisor as the man held back after everyone else had filed out of the room.
“Josh, there’s no way the leak came from any of them. They hadn’t even been made privy to your final proposal before Palmers swooped in under us.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That maybe you’ve been employing the same underhanded tactics yourself for so long that now you can’t even trust your own men. Think about it, Josh. Who else could have disseminated that information? Who else might have something to gain by it? Either your computer system was breached externally by some hacker, or perhaps you need to look a little closer to your own office before you start accusing these guys of foul play.”
His own office? There were only two people who had access to his computer. Himself and once, very briefly, Callie—and he knew for damn certain he hadn’t shared his proposal with Palmers.
Had she double-crossed him? An ember of fury flared to life deep in his gut. The evidence certainly pointed to it. Had she hoodwinked him all along? A wave of disgust nearly swamped him. He’d allowed his libido to rule his head. He’d let her get close. He’d seen her, wanted her, had her and he’d shared truths with her he’d never shared with any other person.
Above all, he’d trusted her. The words she’d uttered weeks ago now came back to haunt him, “Seems you ought to be more concerned about the loyalty of people you can buy.”
People like her, maybe?
If it was true that she’d betrayed him, she would pay for her deceit, along with that of her old boss. He’d make sure they were both hung out to dry. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out where her loyalties lay.
Palmers would be high on the success of this latest contract, they’d be eager to do the same again—to pip him at the post—and this time he would let them. An idea began to formulate in his mind. He’d have to be careful, but he knew he could do it, and prove Callie’s innocence or guilt at the same time.
And when he carried this one off, he’d have destroyed his competition for good.
Ten
It was two days since she’d made her discovery and she still had no idea of what she was going to do. In the office, Josh had been the same as ever—focussed, professional—yet every now and then she’d caught him watching her as if something else weighed on his mind. They hadn’t been intimate since the weekend, and she found herself missing that special closeness they’d shared.
She started at her desk, her senses on instant alert as Josh came through from his office.
“Callie, I’d like you to type up these notes now—top priority and top level confidentiality. Make certain you password the file with this code.”
She noted the code he’d written on the top of the sheets of his hand-scrawled notes.
“Do you want these back when I’ve completed the computer file or should I destroy them?”
“Destroy them. The file is all we’ll need.”
He turned to go back into his office.
“Josh? Is everything okay?” she asked, rising from her seat and walking over to him.
To her relief, he smiled and bent down slightly to kiss her cheek.
“Everything’s fine, just busy—making up for losing the Flinders contract to Palmers.”
Callie felt guilt run cold through her veins. The Flinders contract had been the one she’d given the information on to Irene. It was what she’d had to do at the time, but now she wished she’d never agreed to be the go-between in this crazy game. She wasn’t cut out for the subterfuge or the emotional cost it demanded.
“With any luck, the material you’re working on today will cover that quite nicely,” Josh smiled. “Are you busy tonight?”
Callie dragged her thoughts together. “No, I don’t have any plans.”
“Let’s have dinner together.”
“I tell you what,” she started, thinking quickly. She didn’t want the anonymity of some restaurant tonight. She needed Josh’s attention on her and only her if she was to assure herself that nothing was wrong between them. “Why don’t I cook for you?”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go out?”
“I’m certain,” she said, nodding for good measure. “What time will you be finished tonight?”
“I’ve got that meeting away from the office at four-thirty,” he considered, and she could see him mentally juggling how long it would be expected to take. “I can be at your place by seven, but why don’t you go around to my place instead. It’s closer to where I’ll be and I can get there to be with you sooner.”
“Perfect. I’ll bring everything over for dinner.”
“Bring a change of clothes for tomorrow while you’re at it,” he said. He handed her an electronic key. “Here, you’ll need this. It’ll open the gate and garage door. Just leave the gate open for me.”
“And the alarm?”
He repeated a numerical code, which she committed to memory.
Excitement unfurled within her. Clearly, he couldn’t suspect her of wrongdoing. She still stood a chance of making things work, of maybe even turning his need for revenge into something else. Realistically, she knew she’d be fighting against a current that had roared through his life for far too long, but she had to hope that somehow she could make a difference.
The sheaf of notes Josh had given Callie were extensive. How he’d managed to corner another proposal so quickly after losing the Flinders job explained why he was so successful. As Callie automatically transcribed his crabbed handwriting, she started to mentally plan for the evening ahead. She wanted everything to be perfect.
It was exactly a month until Christmas. Would it be too early to give him a gift? Perhaps herself, gift-wrapped in something special? At lunchtime she found the perfect thing. A rich burgundy satin nightgown and matching organza peignoir. She couldn’t wait to see Josh’s face when she wore it.
It was nearly five o’clock before she finished typing up the notes. She was getting her ha
ndbag from her drawer, in readiness to leave the office, when the strident shriek of the building alarm cut through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. She knew the routine—drill or genuine alarm, she had to leave her office immediately.
As far as confidentiality was concerned, everything on her computer was set to auto backup already, and her computer itself would lock down without activity within five minutes. But that left the notes Josh had given her. She hadn’t shredded them yet and had no time to do that now.
Callie folded the sheets up and shoved them in her bag. She’d have to shred them when she came back once the building had the all-clear, but she couldn’t leave them lying around. As she joined the throng of staff members in the stairwell, and steeled herself for the long climb to the ground floor, she hoped this was only a drill and that they’d be back inside soon.
Her hopes were dashed as she waited at the staff assembly point. A small fire had started elsewhere in the building and the fire department had said it would be some time before they’d be letting everyone back in. The news was met with groans of dismay as most people would have to wait for the all-clear to be able to go inside and recover their means to return home.
Callie thanked her lucky stars she had her bag with her. While she couldn’t get into the underground car park to retrieve her car until the building was reopened, she could certainly taxi home and then taxi to Josh’s place. Once cleared by the building warden that she could go, she did exactly that.
The cab driver was all too happy to stop outside a nearby supermarket so she could gather the ingredients she wanted for the dinner she’d planned tonight, and then, for a nominal extra fee, to wait while she rushed inside her town house and gathered her things for the night ahead.
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