by Sandy Vaile
After an awkward and mostly silent meal, the atmosphere in the Botticellis’ kitchen was wound tighter than a steer in a rodeo holding pen. So no one disagreed when Jack swirled crusty bread across his plate to mop up the last of the casserole juices, licked his fingers, downed the last of his cabernet sauvignon, and announced that he would see Micah back to the bed-and-breakfast. It was a better outcome to the evening than Micah had guessed would play out.
At the front gate, Jack turned to him. “Son, I hope this goes without saying, but don’t come back here. You’re damned lucky I found you before Tony did.”
Micah grunted. “His fists made it loud and clear. Anyway, I’m sorry. I hope I haven’t made things, umm . . .difficult for Neve.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t know what kind of hold Tony has over her, but I’m worried he might hurt her.”
“Are you now?” Jack’s eyebrows lifted. “Look, I know what they call Tony around here, but he’s not as bad as he seems. A little paranoid maybe—”
“Understatement of the year.”
“—but Neve is safe with him.”
“Does he have a mental problem or something?”
The gnarled old bloke sighed. “He suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder and likes to keep to himself. There’s nothing wrong with that, until some nosey bastard oversteps the line.”
“Yeah.” Micah averted his eyes. “Isn’t PTSD something soldiers get?”
“Exactly. Tony did three tours in Vietnam. The last one really messed him up, and after . . .some personal losses, he just couldn’t get his shit together. Neve’s good for him.”
Sure, the death of Neve’s mother and brother was a huge loss, but she hadn’t turned out like Tony. “But is Tony good for her?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that, but yes, I think he is. They are the only family they have left.”
“And Neve is his caregiver,” Micah murmured.
“Neve is a loving daughter.” Jack chewed his lip like he was searching for the right words. “Most of us don’t get to choose the path our lives take.”
“Most of us, meaning unlike me.”
Jack shrugged.
“You don’t know shit about me, Jack.”
“I’ll give you that. So how about you get to know Neve away from her home for a while? Neither of them need the aggravation you caused tonight.”
Micah brushed imaginary fluff from his thigh. “Sure.”
“And you’re going straight to the Travaglias’ B and B and staying there for the rest of the night, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He sighed and then got out to open the gate before driving off in his rental car.
Jack tailed him in the ute, all the way to the bed-and-breakfast. If Jack and Neve had let Tony rip Micah to pieces, he would have deserved it. Neve might be relentlessly kind, but why would she want to go out of her way to help him, especially seeing as she and her father clearly had a problem with his wealth? Nobody did anything for nothing. Rowan looking like her brother just didn’t seem like enough.
There must be something he was missing, and he’d best be alert for it.
• • •
Once Neve said good night to Tony and was finally alone in her library, she booted up her laptop and typed “Micah Kincaid” into the Google search bar. There were many pages with articles about the sale of his luxury yacht, his influence over the CFS Retail Trust, reports about his stocks and shares, a Forbes profile, and an article he’d written with recommendations for small businesses to survive the current economy.
She clicked on a Wikipedia page link. It was weird that he was only thirty-five years old. Hardly older than her, and yet he’d achieved so much. What drove a man to work that hard? Could just be luck, or maybe he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. At the top of the page was a photo with a debonair Micah in a tailored suit, followed by his net worth of $2.4 billion.
It took her a while to digest that and move on.
There was precious little about his childhood, although the word underprivileged was used, so it didn’t appear that he was born into money. Interesting. And then there was quite a bit about his talent for saving ailing businesses. Phrases like environmental advocate and devoted family man were used to describe him. He’d even been awarded a Medal of the Order of Australia for his work with homeless people.
Hell, he’s practically a saint. A very rich saint who I’ve agreed to join in human procurement.
After scrolling through several more pages, a YouTube link caught her eye. It was an interview on A Current Affair, and Neve found herself riveted to the screen as his resonant voice spoke with passion about renewable energy resources. His eyes never left hers. Micah Kincaid was charismatic in the extreme. No wonder he’d done so well in the public arena.
He seemed different face to face though. The confidence was there, but he was more down to earth than she would expect from someone who lived his life in the media spotlight. She’d seen the Louis Vuitton and Bentley, but there was a chance he didn’t live the high life all the time, right?
She typed Victoria Street, where Micah said he lived, into Google Maps. Using the earth view, she navigated along the coast and snooped at some of the houses. Holy shit. The properties were big, with pools and jetties, flanked by a sandy beach.
The life he inhabited was light-years from her own.
Next, she searched real estate in that suburb and nearly choked. The first property looked like a dive and read “offers invited over $1.8 million.” When she found a property for sale on Victoria Street, she slapped the laptop shut.
Hell. No wonder two million bucks doesn’t faze him.
She’d experienced firsthand just how far wealthy people would go to get what they wanted. Well, she wasn’t going to be collateral damage this time. Rowan was the one she was here to help, and she’d keep her eyes wide open for Micah’s deception.
Chapter 15
Neve swung the skipping rope, the balls of her feet hitting the concrete with a rhythmic scuff that she paced her breathing to.
Micah had sent her a text message earlier:
We still on 4 shopping?
It could be perceived as ballsy or just plain stupid of him to want to see her after everything that had happened yesterday. Then again, the guy really did need clothes and it didn’t have to be more complicated than that. No doubt he was only thinking about how he needed her to be there for the hand over with Rowan and wanted to keep on her good side. Either way, it would be nice to hang out with him away from all the drama in Turners Gully.
“I’m pretty sure that rope isn’t going to give you any more trouble.”
Neve missed the next jump and her feet tangled. “You gave me a heart attack, Jack.”
He tossed her a face towel to rub over her brow and neck. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”
“I need to work off some frustration after last night.” Wasn’t that an understatement.
“Anything you want to talk about?” he asked.
She shook her head, and he turned to leave.
“Wait! Tell me honestly, what do you think of Micah? I know he made a serious mistake yesterday, but do you think he can be trusted? I’ve said I’ll help him, but . . .” Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath.
Jack raised his eyebrows. “Are you asking for my permission to see this guy?”
“No, of course not. I’m just helping him get his son back. It seems like he’s had a raw deal with Chelsea running him around. Besides, he’s married.”
“Look, honey, I think it’s great that you’re helping him. You’re an intelligent woman who can make her own decisions, not to mention you could probably knock him on his arse if push came to shove.” He draped an arm around her still heaving shoulders. “Don’t let Tony’s overreaction stop you from doing what you feel is right. Do you want to do a couple of rounds in the boxing ring?”
“Actually, I have a few errands
to do at the shops this morning.” She hoped the flush of exertion would hide the guilt on her cheeks. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”
“Not at all, love.”
• • •
She felt calmer after a workout and hot shower. She’d thrown a silk blouse and slacks on instead of her usual jeans and tee, and rummaged in her handbag for perfume. A swipe of pink gloss across her lips and mascara along the tips of her lashes. Done.
Down the hill, the local Country Fire Service station sounded its test siren, as it did at ten o’ clock every Sunday morning. The familiar sound reminded her she was part of a community, something that was easy to forget if she spent too much time isolated with Tony. Her stomach did a little flip at the thought of seeing Micah again; must be all the drama of last night.
She was almost to her car when she heard Jack’s boots on the gravel.
“Looking fancy for a shopping expedition,” he commented from behind.
Her heart leapt into her throat. “I’m going to Marion, so I don’t want to look like a dag.”
“Okay, have fun.”
She waved and slid into the car. It was just her luck to have two of the keenest military-trained men in the country looking out for her. How was a gal supposed to get away with anything sneaky? It was no wonder her teenage years were so sheltered.
Today of all days, Bron had invited Neve to hike in the Onkaparinga Gorge, so she’d told her that Tony needed her at home. Neve had never lied to Bron before Micah came into her life, and didn’t like what it said about her involvement with him, but a promise was a promise. She couldn’t tell Bron about what was going on, especially if it might put her friend in danger from Dave.
That’s why she’d told Micah to meet her at the kindy. The deviousness of it all was burning its way up her esophagus.
It was right on ten thirty when she pulled into the kindy car park and found Micah leaning against his hire car.
He slid into her passenger seat. “Are you sure you still want to do this? You don’t have to, after . . .”
“I’m afraid of the trouble you’ll get into if I don’t keep an eye on you.” Her lips twisted into a smirk.
They stared at one another for a few seconds, and he nodded. He had a cut over one eyebrow, another on his lip, and a broken capillary in one eye. No doubt Tony had left other bruises she couldn’t see. Even though Micah had done the wrong thing by trespassing, he hadn’t deserved the full force of Tony’s wrath. She put the car into reverse.
It was a gauche journey over the hills and down to the Marion shopping complex. Neve rarely went there—she hated the harried people vying for parking spaces and shouldering her in the mall.
Inside, the shopping centre was a blaze of lights, colour, buzzing noise, and cloying perfumes. The sensations brought on a heart-racing instant of anxiety. Perhaps Tony was rubbing off on her after all. A few deep breaths and she had it under control.
Micah frowned. “You all right? I thought women liked shopping.”
“I’d rather poke a hot skewer in my eye, but you need clothes.”
She weaved through the leisurely shoppers and into the first men’s store they came to. It wasn’t until she had a couple of T-shirts in hand that she stopped.
“Sorry, I’m used to shopping for Tony. I know they’re not Louis Vuitton.”
“Isn’t there somewhere that isn’t a chain store? Armani, Ralph Lauren, Thomas Pink?”
“I suppose David Jones department store might have something.”
Before long, he was armed with jeans and shirts that were worth more than Neve’s weekly wage.
“How about you select some polos while I try these on?” Micah said.
What did she look like, a personal shopper? It wasn’t like she knew anything about designer labels, other than they were a waste of money, so she stuck to the brands he seemed to like. Arms loaded, she faced three floor-to-ceiling change room doors. All occupied.
“Micah?” she called.
“I’m in here.” A door cracked open and then swung wider.
She handed over the garments, cheeks flaming as her unwieldy gaze dropped from his face and snatched a brief but noteworthy appraisal of a snug white tank top and sleek, freckled shoulders. The same warm tingle she’d experienced Friday night went up her spine. There was no need for clothes when you looked that good in underwear.
She spun around, headed for the safety of the mall, and landed on a vacant bench seat. It provided a tiny life raft in the middle of the chaos. With her eyes closed, she tuned out the chaos and centred herself. All of this was so far from her norm. She didn’t do frivolous shopping. It would have been better if she really had spent the day with Tony and made sure he was okay. He hadn’t slept a wink last night, after having his peace of mind destroyed by Micah.
Instead, she was shopping.
“I thought you’d ditched me.”
Her eyes snapped in the direction of his voice. “Coulda, shoulda, woulda, but you know where I live now.”
His smile vanished, and he turned to study the nearest shop window.
“I was just kidding. You got them to cut the tags off then?”
He was wearing new, black denim jeans and a snug, long-sleeved grey T-shirt.
“You approve?”
“Nice.” Her eyes lingered on his chest again.
The rush of pleasure on his face was unexpected and unwelcome, but she wasn’t the only one ogling him. A huddle of teenage girls scrutinised him in unabashed detail.
One stepped forward. “Excuse me, are you Micah Kincaid?”
He straightened and a warm smile lit his face. He looked confident and approachable. The perfect public persona.
“Yes, ladies. How can I help you?”
The girls erupted into a fit of giggles, grabbing one another’s arms and flashing goofy smiles. “I told you,” one whispered. “People magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive.”
Neve nearly choked.
The original spokeswoman spoke up again. “Like wow. What are you doing here?”
“Unfortunately, I really have to get going, ladies, but it was lovely to make your acquaintance.”
“Hey, that’s not your wife,” another girl said as she eyed Neve.
“No, just a business colleague.” Micah didn’t bat an eyelid as he told the fib.
Oh well, it wasn’t Neve’s place to contradict him in front of his fans. Worshiping the rich and famous was a sport for some; it just wasn’t one that she was interested in. Money and good looks made him exceptional, not necessarily worthy.
“Can we grab a pic?” another young fan asked.
Phones were already being focused on Micah, and his awkward grimace didn’t deter them in the least. Next, the girls took turns huddling up next to him while their friends took more photos.
When Micah started backing away and saying good-bye, Neve wordlessly followed him along the mall. The giggling behind them faded, and Micah moaned.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said.
“You don’t like having your photo taken?”
“It’ll be on social media within minutes.”
There was a pink tint to his throat that she didn’t understand. “I guess that kind of thing happens to you every other day in Sydney.”
“I guess, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”
Neve chewed her lip. “Don’t you like being the owner of a successful business? I mean, you built it from the ground up, you should be proud of that.”
He missed a step and frowned. “I had hoped to keep it low key around here, you know, while I’m dealing with all this stuff with Chelsea. How did you know I built my company?”
“Google.”
“Well, I guess you know all about me now.” His mouth pinched tight.
No doubt he lived with daily invasions to his privacy.
“I don’t think for a minute that I know the real you.”
“I would have answered any questions you had.”
“I’m sorr
y.”
He sighed. “I am proud of what I’ve built, but being in the spotlight is just a necessity I’ve adjusted to.”
She nodded. Something to ponder as they continued along the mall.
Micah tapped her arm and pointed to a women’s clothing shop. “Do you want to buy anything while we’re here? My treat, seeing as you drove.”
She grimaced at the crop tops, hipster pants, and strappy dresses clinging to bony manikins in the window. “I don’t need you to buy me clothes, and I don’t spend money unless I really need something.”
It didn’t matter how appealing Mr. Kincaid was; she wasn’t for sale. She was helping him because Rowan needed her.
• • •
The venom in Neve’s voice was the same as when she and Tony had commented about people with money. To her, money obviously equated to immorality. It was such bullshit, and he’d ask her about it soon, just not in the middle of a shopping mall where an argument was likely to end up on social media.
“I’m well aware that you don’t spend money on yourself, and apparently you aren’t in the habit of accepting gifts. I assume you do have to eat though, so where should we have lunch?”
Her lip pursed.
“How about Thai?” he said.
“Really? That’s my favourite too. The Casuarina restaurant is just around the corner.”
“Neve!”
Micah looked up to see a middle-aged blonde woman waving. Neve shot forward and embraced her. Behind them, two children broke from their father’s handhold and rushed to hug Neve’s legs. She stooped to their level and gave them a couple of minutes of undivided attention, listening intently to their stories about ice creams with funny faces and new toys. Speaking of which, he needed to buy a truck for Rowan.
“She’s wonderful with children, isn’t she?” the blonde woman said. “I’m Mary, and this is my husband, Ron.”
Micah shook their hands. “Nice to meet you. I’m Micah.”
He returned his attention to the children. They seemed to accept Neve as one of them, and it was no wonder. Who wouldn’t want the tenderness in her eyes directed at them? What he wouldn’t give for his son to have a mother like that.