Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters
smile when she saw him, he walked over.
‘I didn’t expect to see you, Clair. You’re always welcome, of course.’
‘I had to come. Can we talk?’
Her apprehension triggered a kindred unease. That damn article? Duncan had already assured him the reporter’s insinuations hadn’t affected his opinion at all. There was nothing he wasn’t aware of and their association wouldn’t change. He was also convinced the people who mattered wouldn’t equate Marcus’s condition with Matt’s aptitude to run the company.
‘Of course, this way.’ He guided her to his office, and over to the window seats.
‘Coffee or tea?’
‘Not now. Please, Matt, sit down. This is personal and it concerns you.’
His gut tightened as he obeyed. Lauren? He’d told Duncan she’d returned to Sydney. Not why.
She fiddled with the handle of her bag then dropped it onto the floor. He leant forward and took her hand, shocked to feel its trembling.
‘What’s wrong, Clair? If there’s anything I can do, just ask.’
‘It’s the other way round, Matt. I came because I’m partly responsible for that reporter’s knowledge, limited though it was.’
‘You?’ He shook his head, couldn’t take it in. A chill seeped into his muscles and he dreaded hearing more.
‘Your mother came to our group lunch two weeks ago, first time for ages. We were chatting in a quiet corner and she began to tell me about her problems with your father and his deterioration. I should have suggested we talk later somewhere more private but she was desperate to let it all out.’
The chill became icy. Every cell in his body seemed to shrink and close down. He had a vague awareness of letting go of her hand, of his shoulders slumping.
‘She said your father kept telling her things she knew weren’t true or dropping hints about special funding for his secret hideaway retirement. She didn’t want to worry you or the family with his fantasies, just wanted someone to sympathise with her.’
His mother had confided in a friend because he’d built barriers between them. She’d been overheard and Lauren was innocent. The reporter had been trying to get confirmation or more details. It was as if he heard the facts but couldn’t process them through the fog in his head.
‘Duncan showed me the article, and this morning I found out the woman who wrote it had been at the venue. I noticed her hanging around, and assumed she was a guest. I’m so sorry, Matt.’
Oh, Lauren, what have I done?
Guilt and anguish raked him, his throat clogged, and his stomach heaved. Condemnation roared in his head. Sweat dripped down his back, and his fingers balled into fists.
‘Matt. Matt, are you all right?’
His mind cleared. Clair was leaning forward, regarding him with deep concern. He shuddered back to reality.
He’d listened to her, heard what she said. He hadn’t heard Lauren’s explanation because he hadn’t given her a chance to tell him.
‘No. I think I’ve made the worst, stupidest mistake of my life and I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive me.’
‘Lauren?’
He nodded, too ashamed to speak.
Clair patted his knee. ‘Go and tell her in those exact words. Lauren loves you, Matt, and we women in love can forgive our men almost anything if they love us too.’
Could they? Would Lauren, after his bitter accusations?
* * *
Lauren stared at the four family-sized pizza boxes and clutched her fingers in her lap. She’d always begged off the Monday pizza, footy and whatever-you-want-to-drink evenings in Pete and Jenny’s unit. Why had she agreed to come tonight?
Because she wanted to prove she could watch an Aussie Rules game without breaking down. And she would as long as she didn’t think of the crowded Adelaide oval and being crushed against a warm, muscular body in the crowd.
‘So, did you keep that appointment with your boss, Lauren? Has he made an offer you can’t refuse to get you to stay?’ Jenny leant forward and opened the top box, the aroma evoking memories of the last time she’d been in Matt’s office.
‘We talked. He wants me to consider freelancing for him whenever he gets a job he thinks worthy of my talents. His expression. Soft soap and flattery. I think he’s hoping I’ll relent and come back full time after I’ve had a break.’
‘Could happen.’
‘I doubt it but the idea of a real challenge now and again is tempting.’
The last one had been and look how that ended. No chance of a repeat. She’d fallen in love and lost her heart to Matt Dalton, irretrievable and never to be reclaimed. The pain would subside and become a dull ache she’d learn to live with.
* * *
Matt needed someone to confess to, someone who’d listen, tell him what a drongo he’d been, and offer to help find her. The one person who’d shared all his dreams and aspirations, almost every failure and heartbreak. As soon as he’d finished essential work, he took a taxi to Alan’s city apartment, picking up Chinese food on the way.
The food was hot and spicy, and the cold beer from the fridge slid smoothly down his throat giving him courage to begin. He lounged back, crossing his ankles.
‘Lauren was my balcony girl.’
Alan stopped chewing and stared.
‘You’re kidding? I don’t remember seeing her that night and she’d have been noticeable even then. You definitely never forgot her.’
‘No, she was always there, even when I was contemplating marriage to someone else. I didn’t realise who she was until I kissed her again.’
He almost lost it as the memory seared his brain. Closed his eyes, picturing hazel eyes full of passion, and a smile that always sent his pulse soaring.
‘I’m an idiot, Alan. A blind, insensitive idiot who didn’t have the nous to see the truth in front of me or the guts to claim the sweetest prize any man was ever offered.’
His cousin nodded. ‘I agree. Now you tell me what happened and we’ll work out how you find her, grovel like a lovesick fool—which you’ll happily be—and win her back.’
Matt spilled his guts, taking all the blame. He’d cursed himself for not asking more about her life, her suburb, or the names of her friends. She wasn’t in the phone directory and he hadn’t been able to locate her on social media. Her employer had offered to forward any mail he sent, after justifiably refusing to divulge personal information. Apologetic words on paper could never convey his guilt and remorse. He needed to see her, hold her and beg for forgiveness.
‘My last hope is to contact one of her brothers but they’d probably ask why and refuse if I tell the truth. All I know is she lives on the same floor as her friends, in a suburban block of units in Sydney. I didn’t bother to ask her anything—’
He jerked upright, beer spraying onto his jeans and the floor.
‘The form.’ He sprang to his feet, dumping the can on the table. ‘Come on—you drive.’
‘What form? Where?
Matt was already halfway to the door.
‘The personnel form I filed without bothering to read it. Her name and address, contact number in case of an emergency, et cetera.’
Ten minutes later Matt perched on her desk and read the form out loud.
‘“Lauren Juliet Taylor”, her address and mobile phone number. And—’ the rush of joyful adrenaline