by Iris Blobel
“Yes, I am.”
“It’s just… it’s…” She shrugged and gazed at the house again. “But I honestly don’t know anybody who would leave us a house.”
As he scooped Mia into his arms, he replied, “I’m pretty sure.”
She frowned, and her heart contracted unbearably for a moment to weigh up the words he had just spoken. Pretty sure?
Mark took her hand. His was warm and soft. It gave her a sense of security, though she knew that after today she probably wouldn’t see him again. As she followed him to the door, she imagined having a man at her side. A man watching out and caring for her. Someone to brighten her day. Someone to wake up to in the morning after having touched her all night.
Her gaze wandered over to little Mia. Even though her sister was mature past her eight years, she still needed her. Not only in regard to the simple things in life like cooking, washing, or helping her with school work, but the love a little child needed to feel secure, and someone she could trust. As the only person in the girl’s life, Sophie had become a kind of security blanket for her sister, and Mia needed her more than Sophie needed a man. That meant there was no place for a man right now or in the near future. And she knew all too well that men didn’t stay around to help. They came to have fun and then left. Her own father had. Mia’s father had. And Tyler had done so as well.
Still in thought, she nearly bumped into Mark as he suddenly stopped and let go of her hand. Watching him with curious eyes, she realised he was searching for the keys. Once he had found them, he handed them over to her.
One corner of his mouth was pulled into a slight smile. “Go ahead. It’s yours now.”
Taking a deep breath, she took the keys and opened the front door. Feeling like Alice in Wonderland, she took a small step over the threshold. The smell of a closed-up building engulfed her straight away, but there was no disgust, only pride and joy welling up in her. The jaded odour of mothballs still lingered in the air, mixed with a mouldy smell, as well as a slight scent of plants. Sophie turned to Mia, who was still holding on to Mark.
“Come on, sweetie. Let’s go exploring and open these windows,” she said as she held her arms open for her sister to reach out.
They both moved from room to room, opening curtains and windows, taking in each room and its interior. The lounge room was to the right of the entrance with the kitchen opposite. They went past them and further back into the house. First room, then another room, a bathroom, and finally what seemed to be the master bedroom with an ensuite. Two showers! Sophie’s tight expression relaxed into a smile. All rooms sparsely yet fully furnished. Beautiful, old-fashioned furniture.
Sophie turned in a full circle to take a second look at everything again. The temptation to let out a scream of delight was almost overwhelming. It was like being in a dream. She swallowed the big lump in her throat, choked back a sob as she touched a lovely mahogany cabinet. The polished wood was cool and smooth beneath her fingertips. Solid. No, it wasn’t a dream. They found a single bed in the back room and a double bed in the master. The third room had a roller desk in it.
That was going to be her study room!
“Thank you, Clara Bellinger. Thank you, whoever you are,” Sophie said aloud.
All such a far cry from what they were used to in Sydney. All they’d been able to afford had been a single room with the bathroom across the hall — which they’d had to share with other tenants. Another thought popped into her mind, and it was like she suddenly comprehended what she was seeing.
“Mr. O’Connor. There’s still some furniture.”
Silence.
Sophie looked around the doorframe and down the hall. “Mr. O’Connor?”
“I’m in the kitchen.”
Mia appeared from one of the rooms. Sophie took her hand and walked towards the front of the house and into the kitchen. It was equally as beautiful as the rest of the house. It had the same old feeling to it. The cupboards had a pine timber look. The table and chairs near the bay window seemed to be made of the same material. There was a dishwasher and a washing machine. The cooking area had a very old-fashioned stove with pots and pans hanging on hooks from the ceiling. She looked over to the window, which had a wonderful view outside to the front yard. After a long moment of taking in every little bit of the kitchen, she turned and spotted Mark.
There he was standing in the middle of her kitchen, talking on his mobile. He held his finger up and mouthed something along the lines of “Sorry, just one moment.”
When he hung up, their gazes met.
Sophie stood still for a moment. A moment that could have been five seconds or even five minutes. She wasn’t sure. With a little mental headshake, she forced herself to focus. “There’s still furniture in the house.” Her voice almost broke. “And you’re still here.”
He cocked a brow. “Is that your way of asking me to leave? Furniture and I are here until not needed anymore. And by the way, honestly, I prefer Mark.”
A small smile came to his lips and made her blush. She just couldn’t figure him out. Good grief, she couldn’t figure herself out. He’d annoyed her for not having been prepared earlier that morning. Yet, at the same time, he was so furiously attractive that her mind went all mushy in his presence.
“Mark. Sorry. It’s just… I mean… the rooms are… I mean, the beds and the sofa. There’s still the telly. Are you sure?” Letting out a big sigh, her shoulders sagged. “This fabulous lady wouldn’t have left us some teabags as well, by any chance? I think I could do with one right now.”
His laughter echoed in the spacious kitchen. “I think there’s a little coffee shop down the street. I still have half an hour before my next meeting.”
Sophie sat down and gently tugged Mia onto her lap. She kissed her sister’s forehead, took a deep breath, and met Mark’s eyes. “There’s no spare cash in the budget for little luxuries like that,” she replied with as much confidence as her voice let her. There was no need to go into details that she’d had to spend most of the money for the rent she’d owed. Mrs. Karovic, her landlady in Sydney, had made sure to squeeze every last little penny out of her, and the next payment from Social Services wasn’t due until the end of the week.
“This one is on me,” he said. “The will’s only covering the bills. Will you be eligible for social assistance?”
She gave a slow nod, remembering the day she’d rung Social Service to inform them of their possible move. It had taken a whole hour to get through to someone. Thankfully, the person had been more than helpful and told her that all she had to do was to visit the office in Hobart, and her benefits would continue as always. In a naïve way, she hadn’t worried so much about receiving the money. For her, the most important aspect was for Mia to have her own bed tonight. A bed and not just a mattress on the floor. And so would she. As well as their own kitchen and their own bathroom, which they didn’t have to share.
“Sophie?”
She hauled herself back from her thoughts. “I’m sorry. I was daydreaming.”
Choking back a chuckle, he nodded. “Would you be offended if I gave you some money?”
“Why?”
A look of confusion spread over his face. “Why what?”
“Why are you offering me money?”
As he rubbed his fingers over his forehead, he stepped closer. “Okay. Something’s just gone wrong here in this conversation.” He cleared his throat. “I was merely offering you a bit of cash, as you just said you were short on money.”
An awful guilt rushed over her. Even though she considered herself a kind person, it seemed she’d forgotten how it felt to be the recipient of kindness. When had that happened?
It was only a hesitant shake of her head, but it said more than words. “I know you mean well, but I can’t accept. Thanks for the offer, though.”
Leaning against the bench, he crossed one foot over the other, and his face showed a questioning frown. Sophie took in every little
bit of him as he appeared tall and big in the kitchen. He was deliciously sexy and had an inherent captivating presence. The tousled blond hair seemed in need of a haircut, curling up around his ear. She stared at him, taking in his icy-blue eyes.
He broke the silence. “It wouldn’t make you a less strong person.”
Considering his words, she let her gaze move out the window, watching the gentle breeze through the trees. It’d been something she knew many people had difficulty to understand, but she tried anyway. “I know. But it makes me feel better. We’ve owed too many people too much of everything. This is a new start. No more relying on others.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed he lowered his head in agreement. “I think I understand.” As he walked past them, he touched Mia’s nose with his finger and winked at her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
A few seconds later, the sound of the front door told them that he’d left. Relieved and disappointed, Sophie pulled her sister even closer to herself, trying hard not to burst into tears. Over the last few days she’d imagined their new place in all variations, from small to run down. From a dump to all being a bad mistake. But this wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Not even close. This was like a dream come true, and she’d do everything in her power to take advantage of this new opportunity to give her sister the best life she could possibly offer.
“I love it, Mia.”
Her sister turned to look at her. “Is it really ours?”
Sophie nodded. “That’s what Mark says.”
“Our own little castle,” Mia whispered.
Chapter Three
Later that afternoon Mark returned to his office after a meeting with clients. Exhausted, he threw his jacket onto the single seater by the window and sat down on the seater next to it. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes for a moment and listened to the outside noises. It was only early afternoon, but he was worn out. After the coffee with the two Sydney girls, he’d quickly rushed off to another appointment. Big bucks. And he’d almost screwed it up because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sophie. He rubbed his face, noticing the stubbles of a beard grinding against his hand.
“Kristen? Would you organise coffee for us and join me? Bring your little writing pad as well. I have a few questions regarding the Levers case.”
Kristen, his assistant, stepped into his office. “Who?”
Exhaling, he raked his hand through his hair before he replied, “The two girls who were here this morning. The ones who inherited the house in Battery Point.”
“Sophie and Mia Levesque.”
Pointing his thumb up, he replied. “That’s the one.”
He heard her pouring the coffee into cups in her office as he watched the world go by outside the window. Levesk. Lefesk.
Sophie.
“What kind of name is that?” he asked when she entered his office again.
Kristen came in with two cups and placed them on the little table before she sat as well. She’d worked for Mark for a few years now. Hobart was a small place though, and being around the same age, they had met through friends in town.
Kristen was in her early thirties, married with two little boys. She had a tall and slender body, with small, auburn curls twisted and crinkled around her forehead. And whenever Mark looked into her jade-green eyes, he thought that her husband was one lucky man.
“It’s a beautiful name for two beautiful girls.” She took a sip of her coffee and smiled as she watched him pinching the bridge of his nose. He could literally feel her stare. Remembering names wasn’t his best trademark. Pronouncing difficult names was beyond him. In his line of business, clearly a disadvantage, but he worked on it.
“I know. I’m sorry. Leveks.”
She chuckled. And he knew that chuckle. It was her way of being patient with him. Kristen had figured it out a long time ago that, in life, he liked it simple. With contracts, he liked it complicated, and that was why he was one of the best in town.
“Levesque. It’s probably French. And I somehow have a feeling there’s a lot of French elegance under that rough surface.”
He raised his left eyebrow. “And you got that from them waiting ten minutes in your office?”
Her lips curved into a little smile. “Yes. It’s called female intuition,” she retorted as she tapped her finger on her nose.
Mark shook his head. What a lot of crap. “Okay. How about you gather all your intuition and tell me more about these two? How are they related to Ms. Clara Bellinger?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know. She was Mr. Wheeler’s client. Apparently, a charming lady as well.”
“French?”
Laughing, she tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t know. Don’t think so.” She placed her notepad on her lap and reached for her pen. “What do you need to know?”
“Probably who Ms. Bellinger was, and why she left the house to the girls.”
Kristen raised her eyebrows. “And why would you like to know that?”
“Because I told them I would find out,” he replied, scratching the back of his head.
“She’s plain, but pretty.”
“Who?”
“The older Levesque girl.”
Mark avoided her green eyes. Yes, Sophie was attractive indeed. In her own kind of way. Briefly closing his eyes, he tried to picture her again. And pictured touching her delicate face that radiated such strength. It seemed life hadn’t been easy on her. He’d read her date of birth somewhere in the file, but wasn’t able to remember. Early twenties, if he had to guess.
“Didn’t notice,” he finally said nonchalantly. But, oh yes, he had. As soon as she’d stepped into the kitchen that morning, he’d soaked in every detail of her body like he’d rarely had the urge to do. He’d wanted to make sure she was okay, but more so, he didn’t want to leave. The whole time he’d been around her, he couldn’t think of anything else, but sliding his hand through her ash-blond hair and gaze into her liquid brown eyes, which were ringed with long lashes.
Kristen’s gentle laugh rippled through the air. “I will get the details Monday, hopefully. Now I have to go, though, and pick up my two boys. I don’t want to be late for assembly today. I’ve told you I need to take the rest of the day off. And by the way, I don’t live far from those girls, so please let them know if they need help with the school to contact me.”
His head shot up. “Excuse me? What makes you think I will talk to them again?”
“Who else is going to tell them the result of my research?” she replied with some cheekiness in her voice. She tapped her nose with her finger. “Call it female intuition.”
Without giving him a chance to reply, she stood and left.
He stared after her, yet his thoughts were with Sophie, trying to figure out what it was that attracted him so much to her. He couldn’t even remember her last name, not to mention how to pronounce it.
French. French fries, okay. French cuisine, okay as well. But a French name like… what was it again?
With a shake of his head, he slapped his knees and stood.
The clouds outside had turned dark. The weather in Hobart was unpredictable, and it could mean a good thunderstorm was approaching or a cold front. With a look over his desk, he took a deep breath and decided to call it a day as well.
Should he make another house call?
Or even go and see Linda? He hadn’t heard from her all week, which was unusual for her.
He shoved his hand through his hair and decided it was something completely different that he needed.
Two hours later, Mark tossed a bottle of water to Jared. They were both exhausted and sweaty, having just finished a game of squash. Mark’s old school buddy had won easily, with his thin and athletic body and his long legs effortlessly covering the court. They sat down at a table in the centre’s café. Mark’s hair was damp, and he rubbed a towel over his head, breathing hard. He’d known Jared since they w
ere kids, and they’d kept in contact throughout the years, mainly playing squash or having the occasional beer together. Nonetheless, Jared was the brother Mark had never had.
Nowadays a gardener, Jared owned his own small landscaping business. Big bucks, but hard work. Jared was his usual joyful self, and Mark was irritated, realising his friend had recovered from their workout much quicker.
“What’s up, OC? You seem tense.”
Since Mark could remember, Jared had called him OC. Nobody really remembered why, but somehow it had stuck.
“Work. The usual.”
Jared leaned back and smiled. “Told ya, office work kills.”
Mark chuckled before he gulped down some more water. “Took over a case. Thought it was straight forward, but this client just kept asking questions. I felt like a complete idiot.”
Jared let out a hearty laugh. “Good looking?”
“What?”
“I take that as a yes? ‘Bout time you met someone. That Linda of yours is like poison.”
Mark laughed to cover his annoyance. Not many of friends knew about Linda. Their relationship wasn’t a relationship, more friends with benefits. Sometimes he even wondered about the friends part.
“I didn’t say it was a woman,” he finally replied tersely, but his friend knew him too well. When he saw Jared’s grin plastered all over his face, he stood.
“Bugger off.”
He walked to the changing room, Jared right on his heels.
“Will ya see her again?”
“I can’t clock anybody for the hours, so Kristen has taken over the task of staying in contact regarding a few issues.”
“Oh, c’mon, OC. Good old-fashioned, free follow-up client service, righteo?”
Mark grabbed his towel from the locker and headed for the shower. All the while, the follow-up idea grew on him.
As the water poured over him, he called out over the noise of the water, “Jay, you’re one clever gardener.”
Chapter Four