Love or Money (18 page)

‘I — I leave for the US in a few days. I could be away for a week or two. Maybe longer.' The agent smiled.

‘As I said, Ms Spenser, in this business we don't try to predict the future. Just relax. I don't think a week or two will make much difference.'

It was tough concentrating on the two Katies for the rest of the day, but Erin knew that she must do it. After LA, there'd be the move back to her Sydney pad, hospital visits, perhaps some frenzied manuscript polishing, plus all the ups and downs that went with selling a piece of real estate.

After a coffee at Sarah's she bit the bullet and walked into Hamish's office. He beckoned her into his room and shut the door. His smile told her he remembered every kiss, every loving murmur, from their evening together.

‘I just visited Bayside Real Estate,' she said. ‘Put the property on the market.' She watched as Hamish tried to hide his hurt, and failed. ‘My mother…she called me this morning. If she doesn't have a heart transplant soon, she'll die. I absolutely have to get my hands on the money. Urgently.'

‘But you can't. That land. It's precious. The golden link in a special chain.' He got up from his chair, walked to the window. ‘If that land goes — I'd leave Luna Bay. It would be like…slashing a knife across the Mona Lisa portrait.' She looked into his face. Did he mean what he said? The fire in his eyes, the set of his jaw, told her he did. ‘You just can't,' he said, and sat. The finality of it sounded like a heavy hammer smashing on a sheet of steel.

‘I don't want to sell,' she whispered. ‘I love the place. But I have to. My mother…her life depends on it.'

‘There must be another way.' His frown told her his mind was working overtime.

‘I need the money. I need it now. I hear what you're saying. But I have to sell.'

‘You're going to LA. On Friday week.'

‘Yes.'

‘If a buyer shows up and you're away, what then?'

‘I don't know. But I'm so desperate, I'd —'

‘You'll need a legal assignee,' he said, staring out through the window. ‘I could be that assignee. I'll have Jenny type something up today. Drop into the office tomorrow morning and sign it.' As she studied his face again, he turned away. Was he setting up a plan to block the sale? Was there some legal conniving that he might bring into play?

‘I promise you, I won't stand in the way of a sale,' he said. ‘You'll need a lawyer regardless. I suggest you give me the necessary authority. I'll speak with the real estate people today.' Erin saw she was blocked. The man across the desk, his face a mask, revealed as much of his inner self as did a stone statue. She had no option but to trust him. She'd leave for LA in a few days.

Next morning Erin stopped by the office to sign the authority. Jenny smiled at her as she slid the paper across her desk.

‘I'm not supposed to tell you this,' the receptionist winked. ‘But there's been a million-to-one happening. The real estate people have had a strong nibble. More like a bite from a fighting marlin, they said. A man called Carlo Borlotti. Rich developer from Sydney. Down here on holiday. Fell in love with the land. It was love at first sight, apparently.'

Erin picked up the pen, found the place for the signature. Then, with a sad murmured apology to her grandmother, and a feeling that in the next second she'd commit an act that would change the rest of her life, she signed, handed the paper to Jenny, and stepped out into the Luna Bay sunshine.

Erin walked back to her cottage, glad she hadn't had to face Hamish. The deed was done. All she could do now was pray that a sale happened soon. She'd try to push the subject out of her mind and concentrate on packing. She slept badly that night, and woke early next morning. As she showered she wrestled again with the tension between saving her mother's life and turning away from the man she'd come to, well, love. Their last night on the beach had moved her into another space. Before, she'd enjoyed being with Hamish, flirting with him. From Day One, she'd been hooked by his tall, lean body, the cut of his face, the bottomless blue of his eyes. She'd told herself she loved him, even. But lately she'd come to know him as principled, caring, fair minded.

More than that, he burned for causes that captured his passion. Starting from the afternoon she'd held him, comforting him in his grief for Honey, her gut instincts had sent her a message. Here was a man who could be the soulmate she'd dreamed of all her life. A man whose feelings ran deep. A man whose body language told her he might come to love her with the passion she now felt for him. She loved him. She thought about him all day, most of the night. Now she'd delivered a body blow to him — a hurt which cut through his love of Luna Bay, the environment, herself.

If only…but there was no contest. Her mother's life came first. Years from now, she might heal from the pain she'd suffer while ever Hamish Bourke claimed a part of her soul.

For a moment, she pictured a future where the two of them might become one. Walking along a beach on summer afternoons, hand in hand. A passionate night of lovemaking, maybe in the bed where she'd slept over the last weeks, maybe in a fancy hotel in some glitzy resort. Anywhere for that matter — on a forest floor, in the sandhills behind the beach. Then another picture, misty at first, came into sharp focus. A newborn baby curled asleep in a crib, sucking its thumb as the two of them looked down, hearts overflowing with love for it. Then walking down the cottage path, each holding a hand of the laughing toddler who swung between them. A kiddy birthday party on a backyard lawn. Hamish and she sitting under a beach umbrella, watching their children as they ran and squealed and laughed and played chasing games with their friends.

Stop it! She ordered herself. Over the last few days, a truth had set in her mind like concrete. If she sold the property, she would lose Hamish. It was that simple.

All through the night, questions buzzed back and forth in Erin's head. Last time they'd met, she'd seen shock, pain, and despair flash across Hamish's face. She pushed that picture aside. She'd come to a decision. Now she must make it happen. There wasn't time to give the property its final polish before the sale. She needed the money now. As she headed towards Sarah's for a medicinal coffee next morning, face drawn from lack of sleep, Erin followed a blind impulse and stepped into Hamish's office.

‘We knew you'd be back,' Jenny said, now looking more like a receptionist than a sandwich maker. ‘I'll get you to sign this blank contract. You've already signed the paper appointing him as assignee. Now, if we get a buyer while you're away, we can finalise the sale. Make it a done deal.' Erin nodded. After a murmured exchange on the intercom, which successfully blocked Erin's attempt to listen in, Jenny waved her towards Hamish's inner sanctum.

‘I'm so glad to see you Erin,' he said. ‘Really glad.' The warmth in his voice told her he meant it. It was a million miles from the polite nothings a regular lawyer might use to greet his client.

‘I need to talk to you, Hamish. About a lot of things,' she said, struggling to be a cool city dude dropping in on her lawyer for a quick shot of advice, and not coming close. ‘Not legal things.'

‘Do go on.'

‘You know I hate having to sell the property. And you know I absolutely have to. My mother's life…its —' Tears leaked down her cheeks.

‘I understand.' He moved back in his chair, let the silence grow.

She found a tissue, wiped her eyes. ‘I know the Landcare people will say I'm just a greedy city type desperate to get my hands on the money.' She fought tears again, and won. ‘And worst of all, I know how much I've hurt you. I — I just have to talk it through with someone. Someone who —'

‘How about your friendly lawyer? Tomorrow night? At Highlands Hall, over dinner? It's Friday, after all.'

Erin remembered Hamish telling her about the up-market restaurant, hidden in the hills half an hour's drive away. ‘You mean…a dinner date?'

He smiled supportively. ‘We have things to talk about, Erin. Important things. Things that could change your life. And the Golden Dragon — it just doesn't have the right feel,' he said. She leaned back, confused. Whatever he said, he was asking her on a dinner date. She used the silence to read his eyes, his body language. Every signal told her that he cared, that he sensed her need, that he wanted to help.

‘I'll organise a babysitter for Dwayne,' he said. ‘Call for you at seven.'

Upset, teary, after an hour-long call to her mother, Erin was jolted by the knock at the door. She flicked a look at her watch. Seven o'clock! All afternoon she'd fought self-reproach over the date with Hamish. What if he was going to set up some legal trickery to block the property sale? What if he came on heavy about her plans to sell? What if, what if, what if? Then, her call to her mother, and suddenly it was seven o'clock. Hamish stood waiting outside, and she needed to dress. Having him in the next room while she changed could be — uncomfortable. There was no other person within a hundred metres of the house.

She opened the door, looked up at the smiling man, then gaped. He stood blocking the doorway, dressed in white shirt and immaculate dark suit. The outfit had made him into a model from a fashion magazine. His freshly shaved skin glowed. Literally, the sight of him, close, warm, smiling down at her, took her breath away.

‘I'll need a couple of minutes to change,' she said, suddenly embarrassed at her grubby jeans and T-shirt. ‘Would you like to —'

‘I'll take a walk,' he said easily. ‘Wouldn't want to miss the evening light on the sea. Tonight it'll be,' he waved at the fluffy cloud layer on the horizon, ‘poetic.'

‘But a drink? A magazine? On the veranda? I'll only be —'

‘I'll be back at…' He looked at his watch. ‘Seven-fifteen.'

The half-hour drive into the hills beyond Luna Bay passed pleasantly enough. It wasn't until his car turned down a driveway to the left of the highway that Erin found herself biting her lip. The headlights caught the polished brass plate with the discreet sign in Roman script — Highlands Hall. The tree-lined drive led down to manicured lawns, a tennis court. The gateway to a shrubbery, complete with pond and white-painted benches, gleamed in the car's headlights. Hamish parked opposite a wide stone staircase leading into the low building. The tuxedoed maitre d' swanned down the stairs and stood at a respectful distance. Hamish opened the passenger door for Erin. She placed one foot, then another, onto the carpet of raked white gravel, smoothing the hem of her little black dress, reaching for her sparkly handbag. She was glad she'd dressed up rather than down. The place was a hidden treasure. A fairytale castle actually existed a short drive away from take-us-as-you-find-us, no-frills Luna Bay.

‘What do you think?' he smiled as he held out an elbow for her.

‘It's right out of Cinderella,' she said. ‘And it comes with its very own Prince Charming.' She smiled up at him. ‘I'm honoured.'

‘Good,' he grinned. ‘I told you I wanted to put a bit of distance between us and the Golden Dragon.'

‘You have. Several light-years,' she whispered, looking up at the ornate sandstone entrance. The maitre d' stepped forward and offered his hand to Hamish.

‘A very warm welcome to you, Mr Bourke,' he said with an accent that could only be Italian. We have been hoping to see more of you.'

‘Thank you,' Hamish smiled, playing along with the man's old-world formality. ‘Meet Ms Erin Spenser, friend and colleague.' The man bowed.

‘Perhaps a glass of French champagne on the terrace? With our compliments. Mam'selle will need to relax after her journey.'

‘Mam'selle would enjoy that,' Erin smiled. ‘A lot.'

Hamish steered her along the winding sandstone path to a paved area under a canopy of trimmed vines, and seated her at a small table. Her senses kicked into overload as a cocktail of floral perfumes from the shrubbery wafted round her. In the distance, a mopoke hooted. A fountain tinkled at the centre of a long rectangular pond. The champagne arrived. The maitre d' showed Hamish the label, popped the cork, and filled the glasses with the delicious froth.

‘To — solving problems,' Hamish said, taking up his glass. Puzzled, she looked into his face in the low light, saw an understated smile. ‘I have this good feeling,' he said. ‘Maybe somehow, we'll work out a way around things. He sipped his champagne. ‘You said you needed to talk to a friend, not a lawyer. I'd like to be that friend.'

‘You know you already are,' she smiled. ‘But for now, I simply want to enjoy the moment.' She tasted her champagne. ‘It's just beautiful here.' She looked away. This could be the last time she dated Hamish, the last time she ever saw him. She'd let the night be special. Create a memory that would last until she was a white-haired old lady — a memory that would lighten dark places in her life forever. She turned to face Hamish, raised her glass, and smiled a smile that told him all the things she could never say.

Dinner followed at an indoor table glittering with crystal and silver in soft candlelight. At a break between courses, Hamish looked into her eyes.

‘You want to talk now?'

Erin braced herself. ‘You know — I know, it's simple black and white,' she said. ‘I have to sell my place.'

‘Every Landcare person in the Bay will be sorry. But I understand.'

‘I thought you'd push me harder than that,' she said.

‘I can only tell you what I feel.'

‘What do you feel?'

‘I — I feel for you.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘That place — you still don't really understand it.' He put down his glass. ‘It hasn't infiltrated your soul yet. In spite of all my lectures and our visit to the Sea Eagle's Nest. I just hope something actually clicks for you before you — go.'