The Candidate (14 page)

‘Not at all — I’m just being realistic. Anyway,’ she continued, looking back at the television, ‘cats aside, I don’t reckon I have it in me.’

‘Have what in you?’

‘You know, the gene that makes a relationship work. Julian got our family’s share. I just don’t think I’m built for that sort of thing.’

He took a drink and thought about what she’d said.

‘What about you?’ Ginny asked. ‘Two-point-five kids and a house in the suburbs?’

He remembered the look on Nick’s face when he’d told Mac he was going to be a dad. How it had got Nick talking, got both of them talking, about how much longer they were going to do the job, what else might be out there. How Nick had laid into him again for the way Mac skirted life outside NZSAS: ‘You’ll end up alone, mate. You can’t keep living as if you’ve got it all still to come. If you want it, then you have to give yourself half a chance of finding it.’

‘I guess,’ he said slowly. ‘Not too sure on the suburbs.’

‘Snob.’

‘You’re no better.’

She laughed in agreement, then yawned again as she put her empty bottle on the coffee table. ‘I’m knackered.’

It hadn’t taken long for those dark circles to return, he thought. She was pushing herself too hard.

‘Come on then.’ Mac shuffled to the end of the couch, stacking cushions up against him. ‘Come on.’ He patted them briskly. ‘I don’t bite.’

Warily, she toed off her shoes before moving towards him and lying down. She let out another yawn. ‘This okay?’ Ginny asked sleepily. ‘I’m not squashing you or anything?’

‘Not at all. Have a wee snooze and I’ll wake you when they get home.’

Before long her breathing evened out. He didn’t know what to make of his new technique of putting her to sleep but, hey, there it was.

He looked down at her. Worn loose for once, her hair had fallen over her face. Mac ran a finger down the soft curtain and lifted it gently over her shoulder. Something turned inside of him as he did. Sighing, wondering how the hell he was going to get himself out of this mess, he put his head back and closed his eyes.

Chapter 17

Mac called her early the next morning.

‘What do you want?’ she asked, grumpy at being woken on a Saturday.

‘Sorry, I thought you’d be up by now.’

‘Well, I’m not.’ She registered the background sound. ‘You driving?’

‘Yeah — I’m on my way down to Gibson’s. Look, I was thinking about your floors.’

‘Odd thing to be thinking about, Mac.’

‘Well, it irks me they’re in such bad shape.’

‘Irks is a funny word to use. Didn’t know it was still in circulation.’

‘You’re still a smart-ass, Ginny.’

She smiled. ‘You bring out the best in me, mate. Anyway … floors?’

‘I meant what I said last night: I haven’t forgotten about them and I spoke to Dad this morning …’

‘So this is a MacNamara thing? Being awake this early on a Saturday?’

‘Can you let me finish, Ginn?’

‘Sure. Sorry.’

‘Anyway. Dad needs me at a meeting on Monday afternoon but other than that he’s graciously given me the day off. If you want me to finish them.’

She groaned inwardly. The smell had finally gone, and the disruption of having her lounge out of bounds while he did the floorboards would be ten times that of having her bedroom done. She looked over the side of her bed and the wood winked back at her. They did look beautiful though. And it was ridiculously kind of him.

‘I reckon I can get it done pretty quickly,’ he went on, ‘now I know they need three coats. I’ll pick up the sander first thing, do that and put the first coat on, go to this meeting and put on a second coat early evening. Then I’ll swing by Tuesday before work and do the final coat. Done.’

She could always stay with Mads for a couple of nights. It would be fine. ‘That would be great. Thank you. Sure you don’t mind, though?’

‘I wouldn’t offer if I did. Don’t know what we’ll do about your couch, though. How did you get it up there?’

‘With great difficulty. Not to worry, though. Leave all of that to me. Have a good weekend and I’ll see you first thing Monday.’

‘You sure? About the couch?’

‘Course I am. Now go away, I want to go back to sleep.’

Laughing, he said goodbye.

He was as good as his word and arrived shortly after eight on Monday morning. Following her upstairs, he whistled at the big, empty space.

‘It looks huge without your stuff in it.’

‘Yeah,’ Ginny agreed. Dirtier and shabbier, too. He was right: having the floors done would give her home a much-needed lift.

‘How did you get everything out?’

‘Paul and Madeleine came over to help.’ She gestured downstairs. ‘I’ve packed as much as I can into one of the interview rooms, and the couch,’ she pointed to her bedroom, ‘is safely tucked away in there.’

Mac stooped down and ran a hand over the wood. ‘Who took the staples out? Paul?’

‘No,’ Ginny said, affronted. ‘I did. And it was a horrid job. Took me forever; I never realised there were so many in there.’

‘They’re nasty little bastards. Thanks for doing that.’

‘Least I could do. Now — I’ve got a shortlist to send through so I’ll leave you to it?’

Mac nodded, already moving to a power point to plug in the sander.

A couple of hours later, Ginny looked up from her screen and stretched. Time for another coffee. Hearing the faint buzz of the sander, she went upstairs to see how Mac was getting on.

Angled away from her, he swung the sander slowly left and right. He’d taken his shirt off and the muscles on his back and arms were tensed to keep the sander even as it oscillated across the wood. His skin, already turning brown, wore a fine sheen of sweat. Catching sight of her, Mac switched off the machine and smiling, turned to face her.

Already unnerved by the shirtlessness, a punch of pure, basic want stopped Ginny in her tracks.

The back view had been mesmerising; all that strength. Front-on, it was more of the same, more of what she’d noticed at Gibson’s the week before, but it hit harder this time. And it was only mid-morning; she couldn’t blame what was running through her head on wine. Looking at him, trying to take it all in and simultaneously make sense of what he was doing to her, Ginny found herself wanting to reach out, run her finger across his torso. Taste him.

‘How’s your morning going?’ he asked. ‘I hope you’ve got air con in your office — it’s bloody hot up here.’ Reaching for his dropped T-shirt, he bent over, and her eyes shamelessly took in his legs and, well, bottom. She was well and truly checking Mac out as his shorts tightened with the motion.

Oh, help, she thought. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

‘I, um, was going to grab a coffee. Can I get you one?’ At least she sounded normal, she thought, as he wiped his shirt across his face.

‘I’d love a Coke.’

‘Coke?’ She felt that quake again as she met his eyes. ‘All that sugar?’

He grinned, and slapped his gut. ‘I think I can handle it.’

He was right; there was hardly an ounce of fat on him. His fingers were spread on his belly. Big hands, strong. I want them on me, she thought crazily. I want him to come over here, pull down the zip of my dress, and put those hands on me.

‘Ginn? You alright?’

‘Sure. Be right back.’

She all but ran down the stairs. I need a run, she thought. A swim. Something to get rid of all of this energy buzzing through me. I’m too much on edge.

Back up from the café, she slammed a can of Coke onto Ange’s desk. ‘Could you take this up to Mac?’

‘Um … sure.’

Coming back down, Ange let out a whistle. ‘Jesus, Ginny, did you get a look at him?’ Shaking her head, Ange went back to her work.

Ginny let out a groan and shut her eyes tight. What on earth was happening to her? Mac?!

She bolted to Mads’ as soon as she could that evening. She’d seen Mac a couple of times but had assumed a busy air, even pretending to be on the phone when he returned to do the second coat. She couldn’t make sense of the crazy, almost electric feeling running through her, but knew she needed some distance, and a good run, to clear her head.

Pulling up outside Madeleine’s house, she grabbed her overnight bag and running shoes. She should take the RK folder from the passenger seat. Robert wanted a phone catch-up the next day to go through her reports on each of the candidates and she intended to study them when the kids were asleep.

No, later. Work could wait for once. She’d go in, have a run, and pick up the folder afterwards. In this jittery state she’d probably drop the damn thing and she didn’t want to be chasing her shortlist down the street.

Slamming the car door closed with her hip, she rushed inside, already feeling the stretch in her legs, the steadying effect on her breath that a run would bring.

He waited a few minutes, and congratulated himself for his patience when Ginny bolted away up the street, running fast. Getting out of his car he walked nonchalantly to hers, looking briefly around. Quickly he opened the car door and smiled as he slid onto the driver’s seat. This was proving too easy.

There wasn’t much of interest. Only the plain manila folder on the passenger seat. He smiled in satisfaction to see the client name on it. He took it and for good measure, the phone charger and loose change from the console. Making it up as he went, he pocketed the few CDs in the glove compartment and pulled out the other junk, making it look ransacked. Satisfied, he eased out of the car, closed the door and crossed the road back to his.

Looking forward to going through the file over a cold beer, he started his car and drove off.

Back at the flat, Mac put on the last of the second coat.

Ginny had been off-the-planet weird that afternoon. Her hot and cold moods were starting to annoy as well as confuse him. It was time to tell her what was going on for him. No matter how uncomfortable the prospect, he had to come clean about how he felt.

He wasn’t surprised to be as hung up on her as ever, but he was dumbfounded by how quickly it had blown up again. The memory of her initial rejection was still fairly well etched in his mind and he’d planned to wait and put in a bit more work before fronting up, but now he wondered if he had it in him. It was driving him close to crazy, and although their friendship was as real as anything he felt for her, it seemed that he was deceiving her, and that wasn’t right at all.

Hearing the front door open, he called out her name. She must have forgotten something; she’d sure as hell taken off like the wind after work. Hearing no reply, he went downstairs and started when he saw a man with a big bunch of flowers trying to open the main door of Shine Consulting.

‘Can I help you?’

The man spun around with a hostile expression.

‘You gave me a surprise, mate.’ He was smiling now. ‘Who are you?’

‘I could ask you the same question.’

‘Daniel.’

He extended his hand, which Mac reluctantly shook. He didn’t like the look of this guy: a bit too polished.

‘Daniel Baire. I’m a candidate.’ He nodded towards Shine’s office. ‘Of Ginny’s. Is she around?’

‘No. What are you doing here?’

‘Just thought I’d drop these off.’ He raised the bunch of flowers. ‘She interviewed me the other day. It was quite an experience. I just wanted to say … thanks.’

Mac’s eyes narrowed.

‘She sure is good at what she does, that woman. And you are?’

Mac reached for the flowers. ‘A friend. I’ll take them for you.’

Daniel didn’t let go as he looked at the second staircase. ‘She lives up there, does she? Handy.’

Mac stared him down. ‘If you’d like to leave the flowers, I’ll make sure she gets them. Otherwise she’ll be back on deck first thing tomorrow.’

‘Sure.’ Daniel was still smiling. ‘Just let her know they’re from me. If you wouldn’t mind?’

Mac waited a couple of minutes then followed him down the stairs. At the front door, he scanned the laneway but couldn’t see the smarmy, smiley man. He slammed the door and headed back up to Shine. Dumping the flowers outside the doors, he pulled out his phone and dialled, then swore as it went straight to Ginny’s voicemail.

‘Ginny,’ he barked. ‘Lock your fucking doors, alright?’

He went back up to her flat and finished the job.

Chapter 18

Later that week, Ginny and Mads sat outside at a small wine bar bathed in the early evening sun. The setting was made doubly sweet by the fact that Paul was home early and in charge of dinner, bath and bed for the kids.

Ginny fiddled with her wine glass. ‘I’ve got a confession to make.’

‘Mmmm?’

‘I’ve been having impure thoughts.’ Despite her best intentions, it was increasingly hard not to think about Mac. And she was acting ridiculously around him. They’d caught up for a drink the night before and she’d been appalled to find herself rushing to the loo to check her make-up.

Madeleine snapped to attention. ‘About bloody time. Your love life has been as dire as mine recently. Who’s the lucky guy? Are you giving Megan’s colleague another shot?’

Ginny shook her head. If only.

‘Not that candidate who gave you flowers? I thought you had a hands-off rule.’

‘I do! No — not him.’

‘Well, who is it?’

‘I’m so embarrassed!’ Ginny hid her face in her hands.

‘Embarrassed?’ Madeleine paled. ‘Oh crap, Ginny, it’s not Miles, is it? Surely you wouldn’t …’

‘Oh, come on, Mads! I may be depraved but I’m not stupid!’

‘Well, thank God for that.’ Madeleine sat back and took another sip. ‘So — who is it then?’

Ginny took a slug of wine and mumbled.

‘What?’

‘Mac.’ Ginny whispered, turning a bright shade of red as she said his name out loud.

‘Well, holy f—’ Madeleine laughed. ‘It’s finally happened. Thank goodness for that.’

‘What’s finally happened? And why do you think this is a good thing? It’s a shocker! I’m appalled at myself.’

‘It’s a good thing because he’s a great guy who really cares for you — with the added bonus that he’s outrageously easy on the eye. Go for it!’

Ginny gaped. ‘“Go for it”? You must be kidding! He’s practically a brother to me! You’re meant to be counselling me for my foolishness, not egging me on to greater degrees of … of … stupidity!’

‘You mean to tell me you have impure thoughts about your brother?’

‘Of course not! That’s just wrong, Mads!’

‘I was just trying to alert you to the fact that Mac is definitely not your brother and therefore you are entitled to as many impure thoughts about the man as you choose. And …’ Mads leaned forward with a glint in her eye, ‘acting on them.’

Ginny shot her a look. ‘This is truly, deeply embarrassing for me, Mads, and I will not tolerate piss-take. I invited you out tonight for advice, not to be made fun of.’

‘I don’t see your problem! You’ve been circling one another for years …’

‘I have bloody well not!’

‘Oh, come on, Ginny! Every time Mac looks at you it’s as if he wants to eat you up in one bite! Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed! And remember that kiss?’

‘Yeah, but … it was years ago … and we were hammered.’

‘Hammered, schmammered. You’ve snogged plenty of men when you were drunk. So tell,’ she pointed at Ginny, ‘have you had a hotter kiss than the one he bestowed that night?’

‘I … um …’

‘Have you?’

‘No.’ The realisation flooded Ginny with two feelings. One was surprise; the other she didn’t want to look at, let alone identify.

‘I don’t understand why you’re so hung up on this,’ Mads continued. ‘You’re single, he’s single, you’re good mates — so you know he won’t mess you around. If you want to jump into bed, nothing’s stopping you and I reckon you’ve both wasted enough time. Just give it a shot, Ginny. The worst that can happen is a night of outrageously good sex.’

Ginny gave a shriek and covered her face again. ‘Please don’t say that! He’s my friend, for God’s sake!’

‘I’d hardly encourage you to shag someone you despised.’

‘Yes — but …’ Ginny couldn’t compute it. ‘If I go there with him, and fuck it up, then what? I’ve lost a perfectly good friend.’

‘Ginny,’ Madeleine said gently, ‘there’s nothing to fuck up. You’re talking about sex and, anyway, he’s hardly been around the last decade. It’s not as if you see him all that regularly. Look.’ She ticked off the options on her fingers. ‘Two things could happen: you go there, or you don’t. If you don’t go there, just enjoy the buzz — if it doesn’t drive you crazy. If you do go there … well, again, one of two things could happen.’

‘Go on.’

‘It’s fabulous, and you have your world rocked — and then he leaves again. He’s only around for the summer, right?’

Ginny nodded slowly.

‘Okay then. Easy. You won’t have to deal with your commitment phobia because you know it’s going to end before you even start. Nice and clean. Same goes if its crap, embarrassing. You have a laugh about it and go back to being mates. And then he leaves again. It’s a win-win, Ginn. No one gets hurt, all above board.’

‘You think?’

‘Sure.’ Madeleine took a long sip of her wine. ‘The poor sod has waited long enough. Go on — take one for the team.’

Ginny glared. ‘Don’t be so bloody flippant. But you may be on to something.’

‘Excellent.’ Mads reached over to toast her. ‘So how did the cheeky bugger finally get you to look in his direction? Flowers? Poetry? Lingering glances over lunch?’

‘Hardly. That’s not exactly Mac’s style. But sanding the floors with his shirt off certainly got my attention.’

‘You’re so base, Ginny — I love it! However, perhaps you could invite me over the next time he’s doing those floors. I wouldn’t mind seeing what all the fuss is about.’

‘You’re as bad as Ange. She reckons we should sell tickets.’

Madeleine nearly choked on her wine. ‘She’s a smart woman, that one.’

‘She is that.’ Ginny paused. ‘So what now? Glam up, get a bit tipsy and bust a move?’ She frowned. ‘I don’t think I could pull that off, Mads. Not with Mac.’ She sighed. ‘This is a bad bloody idea. I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation.’

‘Calm down. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Paul and I are heading up to Matakana this weekend with the kids. There’s a vineyard open day on Saturday. Wine tasting, live music — they’ve even got a bouncy castle.’ She gave Ginny a wink. ‘Why don’t you guys come along? Just a quiet day in the country with old friends, but a nice setting to … brew something.’

Ginny thought about it. It sounded viable. ‘Okay … I’ll give him a call tomorrow, see if he’s keen. But I’m not convinced this is a goer, so no silly business. Promise?’

‘I promise.’ Madeleine crossed her heart.

Ginny woke late on Saturday after a restless sleep. Tearing into the shower, she stubbed her toe on the skirting board and swore as the pain ricocheted up her foot. Yesterday’s plan of getting ready at a leisurely pace went out the window and she washed quickly. No time to dry her hair. She tied it up and hoped it would do. Desperate for coffee, she swore again as she realised she was out of beans. This was not shaping up to be a good day.

Rummaging through her drawers, her heart sank when she remembered her favourite jeans were in the wash. She pulled out a clean pair. They’d do but they weren’t what she wanted.

Looking at her watch, Ginny squealed. Ten minutes until Mac picked her up. She pulled on a top and shoved her feet into ballet flats. She noticed a stain on her top, changed it. Had to re-tie her hair. Brushed her teeth. Quick spritz of perfume, a bit of lip-gloss. Mascara? No — that would be silly. Right. Keys, phone, bag, sunglasses, go.

Bowling outside, she saw Mac’s car pulled up on High Street. Standing at the driver’s door, arms crossed on the roof, hair wet from the shower, he gave her a big grin. Something warm rushed her tummy and she let herself enjoy it.

‘Right on time, Ginny. You never fail to amaze me.’ He reached into the car and handed her a coffee.

‘Oh, you lifesaver. I’ve run out of beans. I could kiss you.’

‘I should have brought you a muffin as well.’ Mac laughed, and Ginny ducked her head as a hot blush raced up her face. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she made to open the passenger door.

Mac’s expression changed. ‘Ah, Ginny …’

The tinted window slid down and a pair of well-made-up blue eyes in a classically beautiful face looked out at her. Someone obviously didn’t have the same reservations about mascara. The woman’s wavy blonde hair was styled to within an inch of its life and her V-neck top showed off an impressive cleavage. There was no way in hell this lady had woken up with twenty minutes to get ready. She held out a hand, which Ginny shook.

‘Hi. I’m Susannah,’ she said with a bright smile. ‘Mac and I work together. Thanks for having me along today.’

Ginny smiled back, not so brightly. ‘Um — no problem. Nice to meet you too.’ Well, this was a detail she hadn’t factored in. The lovely Susannah from Dad’s firm.

‘Ginny …’ Mac gestured towards the back seat. ‘Do you mind?’

Giving him a weak smile, Ginny slid in.

They reached the vineyard in good time. A wide open lawn rolled down from the cellar door and restaurant, with a small stage at the bottom of the rise. Off to one side, behind a row of trees, were the turrets of the bouncy castle. The restaurant was set to do a roaring trade and several tasting tents were dotted around the perimeter of the grounds. Thankfully, they offered coffee as well as wine. Not quite mid-morning, the place was already packed. Seeing Paul and Madeleine set up under a tree within good distance of the stage, Ginny went quickly over.

‘Don’t say a thing,’ she whispered as she gave Mads a hug.

‘What?’

‘Just. Don’t. Say. Anything.’

Ginny felt tiny hands grabbing at her and looked down to see Molly and George. ‘Hello, my lovelies.’ She felt cheerier at once.

She turned to see Mac and Susannah approach.

Paul was wrestling with a folding chair. He gave it a mild kick and reached for Mac’s hand. ‘Good to see you, mate.’

‘You too. Nice spot you have here.’

‘Yes,’ Madeleine replied. ‘It’s a side benefit of having kids who are up at the crack of dawn. We were the first ones here. Are you going to introduce us?’

‘Oh, sure, sorry.’ Mac hastily made introductions, his arm — Ginny noted — around but not quite touching Susannah’s back. ‘Susannah and I work together. We got talking and I mentioned I was coming up and, well …’

‘I thought it would be fun to tag along,’ Susannah finished for him. ‘Nice to meet you all.’ Noticing the kids, she leant down and shook George’s hand and tickled Molly. The charm offensive worked on George, but Ginny was pleased when Molly scowled. That’s my girl, she thought as she made her excuses and darted to the nearest tent for coffee. Molly wasn’t fooled by the usurper.

‘Ginny.’ Mac caught up with her. ‘I’m sorry about Susannah. She sort of invited herself and I didn’t feel I could say no.’

Get over it, Ginny reprimanded herself. Just because she wanted to jump him didn’t mean he still wanted to jump her. And if he wanted to jump someone else, well — so be it. ‘No bother.’ She gave him a brief smile. ‘She seems nice. Let’s just have a good day.’

‘Sure. Whatever you say.’

But it didn’t turn out to be a good day, not at all. It was a fucking disaster really, Ginny thought, slamming into her flat an arduous and humiliating seven hours later. She blew out an angry breath and headed for the kitchen where she blindly grabbed a bottle from the rack, unscrewed the lid and debated the etiquette of letting it breathe in a glass.

The biggest problem, she thought, pouring a hefty measure, was that Susannah was so damn nice. Even Mads, despite valiant attempts to the contrary, had warmed to her and Ginny had to admit that under different circumstances she could have enjoyed Susannah’s company too. It was easy to disparage Mac’s girlfriends when they were ridiculous, but it was another thing if he chose someone she might actually like.

It had been tricky to gauge what Mac thought about Susannah — he was an easy-going and friendly guy, and it was a while since Ginny had seen him on the hunt. But it was as clear as day that Susannah had him in her sights. The woman had spent the day zeroing in on Mac with a charm offensive that left Ginny feeling scuttled.

Ginny leant on the kitchen counter and took a drink. The whole experience had soured her mood dreadfully. She had been truculent at best, and downright rude at worst for most of the day. She’d felt like a damn third wheel and seeing Mac with Susannah had only brought home how attracted she was to him. Confused? Very. Unsure? Of course. But above all, very, very attracted.

Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to banish both the headache that had persisted all day, and any further thought of Mac. What was needed was a hot shower with the works: exfoliant, body mousse, hair treatment — everything. Then a face mask. Maybe she’d paint her toe nails. And then more wine and perhaps a DVD. Ginny pushed off the bench and headed for the bathroom. She’d be back on track in no time at all and Mac and Susannah could just sod off.