The Negotiator Read online

  “Mm,” he replied noncommittally, not ready to get into a discussion about her ex-boyfriend and how she might or might not still have feelings for him. But she was persistent.

  “There’s no one else who fits the category. ‘Someone who misses me a great deal’ and who’s also interested in Jack? Of course it’s Stewart.”

  He sighed, resigned to the fact that she needed to sort out the thoughts which were no doubt swirling around inside her head, just as they were in his.

  “What about your father? Maybe it’s him?” he said, more to steer her away from the subject of her ex-boyfriend than to explore any real belief he had that the man involved was anyone but Brady.

  He wanted to howl and scream at the injustice of it. She’d agreed to marry him, but that was when there’d been no other men vying for her hand. Now, with the imminent re-emergence of her first love, the father of her child, he couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different—if even now she was regretting her hasty agreement to marry him.

  After all, as far as she knew, he was just a police officer with a nice car and a big TV. He hadn’t wanted her to want him for his material possessions, but if push came to shove in the game to win her heart, he’d pull out all the stops to come out triumphant.

  A small voice inside him argued with him about whether he really wanted her if, in the end, she chose him over Brady merely because of his wealth. The thought disquieted him as much now as it had earlier, when he’d decided to keep it secret. But she was the one. And if she loved him, too, wouldn’t that be enough?

  “It wouldn’t be my father,” she said quietly, interrupting his thoughts. “You don’t know him. He’s not a man who forgives a wrong and in his mind I wronged him more than anyone. At least, that’s how he saw it. He didn’t even tell me when Mom died.”

  Andy choked, shocked out of his reverie. “You’re kidding? What sort of a father does that?”

  “The same one who was principal of the local school and threw his pregnant teenage daughter out on the street.”

  He shook his head in disbelief, still amazed any father could react that way. After a few moments, he reached over and took her hand in his and squeezed it hard. “How did you find out she’d died?” he asked quietly.

  Cally released a deep, shuddering breath. When she finally spoke, her voice was dull and lifeless. “My aunt told me. I’m not sure how she found out, but after all, they were sisters. I guess she found out through her family.”

  “When did your mom die?”

  “A couple of years before Aunt Mary. Jack was six. She had a massive heart attack. It happened at home. It’s funny, she’d never even been sick before. At least, not while I lived there.”

  “Sometimes these things happen and no one really knows why,” he offered, trying to comfort her.

  “Yes.” She grimaced. “That’s what my aunt said.”

  “Did Jack go to the funeral?”

  “I didn’t go to the funeral.”

  For the second time in as many minutes, his mouth fell open in shock. “Say, what?”

  She turned to stare out of the window. He’d almost convinced himself she wasn’t going to answer when she turned back to him, her eyes welling with tears.

  “My father told me not to go.”

  He gaped and moved his lips, but words were beyond him. He shook his head and tried to string a sentence together. “Say that again?”

  “My father refused to let me to go,” she repeated, her face hardening. “I telephoned him after I found out and he told me I wasn’t welcome there.”

  “You’re kidding me? He wouldn’t let you go to your own mother’s funeral? That’s incomprehensible. What did your aunt say? Did she go?”

  Cally shook her head sadly. “No, she’d been cut off by her family years earlier, my mother among them. As much as she wanted to go, she knew my mother wouldn’t have wanted her there and she respected that.” She swiped at her eyes. “Not that it didn’t upset her. I caught her crying in the garden the evening after we found out.”

  He let go of her hand and negotiated the exit off the freeway and headed toward Chatswood. “Did your father know you had a son?”

  “Yes. Aunt Mary telephoned my parents shortly after Jack was born.” Her lip trembled. She struggled on with what he could tell was forced insouciance. “Neither of them came to visit me. Not even once.”

  His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. In angry silence he cursed Cally’s parents who’d hurt her just as much, if not more, than her selfish boyfriend.

  “That leaves Brady,” he murmured.

  Cally’s shoulders slumped. “I guess so.”

  Andy pursed his lips, dread weighing him down. “I think you should meet with him.” The words fell out of his mouth.

  “W-what? What did you say?”

  His gaze clashed with hers. He understood her shock. Even he couldn’t believe he’d said it, but there was no other way. Brady had to be dealt with. Andy had always believed the best way to deal with a problem was head-on.

  “I said, I think you should meet with him.”

  “You mean with Stewart?” Her eyes were wide.

  “Yes, with Stewart. It’s the only way. Meet him up front, see what he wants and then hopefully, he’ll be satisfied and disappear out of your life again.”

  “But what if he doesn’t?”

  It was the same question that was killing him, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Instead, he shrugged casually. “Then we’ll deal with that, if and when it happens. It’s not as if he’s going to come charging in and whisk you off into the sunset. You’re with me now, right?”

  He stared ahead, pretending to concentrate on the road in front of him and waited nervously for her answer. It came without hesitation and his heart clenched.

  “Of course! It’s just that, I’m not sure if I’m ready to…share Jack with Stewart.” She glanced across at him. “It’s different with you. I mean, you’re not his father. You’re not someone who might have a legal claim to him. Not like his father would. Do you know what I mean?”

  He forced a smile to conceal the stab of hurt. Of course he wasn’t Jack’s father, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be—did it? Surely, she’d thought about how things would be after they got married? He wanted to adopt Jack as his own.

  He frowned and wondered for the first time whether she’d be unhappy with the idea. He’d assumed she’d be thrilled about it. It never occurred to him she might feel territorial about her son or worse, that she’d be opposed to the idea.

  “Andy? What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”

  The uncertainty in her voice clutched at his heart and he exhaled on a loud sigh. He didn’t want any misunderstandings between them. If they were going to argue about his role in Jack’s life, they might as well deal with that now.

  He gave her a sideways look. “You’re right. I’m not Jack’s father.” He pinned her with his gaze and then returned his attention once again to the road. “I’m going to marry you, Cally. You’re going to be my wife. So, I was wondering where that leaves Jack? If I’m not going to be a father to him, then what?”

  She sputtered, completely taken aback. “Andy…um, I don’t know. I guess I haven’t… I haven’t thought about it. Of course you’ll be in Jack’s life. He’s my son. He and I go together. Love me, love my son.”

  He nodded, sparing her another glance. “Okay, that all sounds good in theory, but what about when it comes to the hard stuff? What about discipline and deciding whether he’s going to the movies with one of his mates or what time he has to be home? Who will decide that stuff, Cally? If I’m going to be the kind of father I want to be to Jack, you’re going to have to let me have a say in everything. I’m not only going to be a father to him when it suits you. I can’t have you pull the rug out from underneath me if it doesn’t.”

  She stared at him, her eyes widening in surprise. “I-I don’t know what to say, Andy. I guess I haven’t given any thou
ght to the practical day-to-day stuff. I’m just happy you want to marry me.” She offered him a strained smile, but he wasn’t buying it.

  “You need to think about it, Cally. It’s all well and good to be happy about getting married. Hell, I’m thrilled about it. But, we need to talk about Jack. Especially now Brady’s back in the picture.”

  She sighed and her face sobered. “You’re right and I’m sorry. It’s just that, Jack and I have been a two-man team for so long… It’s going to take some getting used to—sharing the responsibility for him with someone else. Even when we lived with Aunt Mary, she never intervened or interfered with the way I raised him.”

  At the look on Andy’s face, she added, “Not that I’m implying you’re going to interfere, it’s just that…” She shrugged helplessly.

  His eyes burned with emotion. “Cally, I’m never going to be happy being a visitor in Jack’s life. I accept that he’s your son and for the last ten years, you’ve had total control over him.” He glanced across at her again, trying to gauge her reaction. “But I can’t and I won’t be a part-time dad. It’s all or nothing. I need to know I have your support on this.”

  She was quiet for what seemed like a lifetime. Andy’s fingers cramped where they gripped the steering wheel. At last, she spoke.

  “You’re right, Andy. You’re absolutely right. You should have an equal say. And we’ll discuss things if we disagree. We’ll come to an agreement if we work at it. It will take some getting used to, but you’re going to be my husband and probably the only father Jack is ever going to know.”

  His breath whooshed out in relief. Cally sighed and reached over to take his hand in hers. Giving it a reassuring squeeze, she brought it up to her lips and pressed a soft kiss across his knuckles.

  “I love you, Andy and I trust you with my life. Mine and Jack’s. Together we can make this work.”

  He looked over at her and smiled. Fierce emotion surged through him and tears pricked the back of his eyes. “Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me. I want to be the best father I can be, but I have to know I have your support before we start, or it’ll never work. And you need to know you have my support.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve had friends who’ve taken on step-children and as soon as the going gets tough—and it’s usually on a discipline issue—their partner undermines their authority and the whole thing unravels.”

  She nodded. “I can see how that would cause problems and I don’t want that for us. We love each other. We respect each other. I know we can agree or find a middle ground.”

  “You don’t have to say that. In fact, it’s unrealistic to think we’re always going to agree on what’s best for Jack or any other kids we may have. All I’m asking is that we never disagree with each other in front of them. We’ll work together, anticipate, and consider all sides, in order to present a unified front whenever he’s around.”

  She gazed back at him, her eyes dark with emotion. He swallowed against the lump in his throat.

  “I love you, Cally,” he added, his voice husky with emotion, “and I love your son. One day, I hope you’ll even let him become my son, too.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “You want to adopt him?”

  He nodded. “Of course. You’re going to be my wife. I want him to be my son, in every way that’s possible.”

  “What if we have to get Stewart’s consent? I’m sure the biological father must get a say in these things?”

  He shrugged. “So, we get his consent. Or we go to court. There must be some way to do it. I don’t care what it takes or how much it costs, I want him to be ours. I want both of you.”

  She smiled at him, her eyes full of love. “You make me so happy, Andy Warwick. I don’t care what skeletons you’re still hiding.” Her smile turned cheeky. “Unless of course you have some weird fetish for women’s underwear or collecting navel fluff or storing dirty, smelly socks under the bed…for like…years.” She grinned. “Any of those would be a deal breaker.”

  Guilt flooded through him, knowing he still hadn’t told her about his wealth. His smile was strained. “Nope, can’t say I have a problem with any of those.”

  “What about your personal hygiene…? You don’t shower every day? That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “Nope.”

  Her face turned somber. “It’s the toilet seat, isn’t it? You just don’t know how to put it down when you’re finished! I knew it!”

  He laughed. “Well, now that you mention it…”

  She hit him playfully on the arm.

  “Hey!” he yelped in mock protest. “I’ve been living on my own for years. There’s never been any reason to put the toilet seat down.”

  “Well, if that’s all you’ve been hiding, why all the secrecy?” Her voice was suddenly serious.

  He brought the car to a stop outside her garage and killed the engine. Turning to her, his expression sobered. “I have something to tell you.”

  He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. This was not going as he hoped. He drew in a deep breath and prayed for the best.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “I have money, Cally. Lots of it.”

  “Excuse me?” Her mind reeled in confusion. It was the last thing she expected Andy to say. “What do you mean, you have money?”

  He shrugged, seeming almost embarrassed. “It’s like I said. I have a lot of money. A few years ago, I won first prize in a substantial lottery. I’m wealthy. Very wealthy.”

  She shook her head, still bewildered. He reached for her hand again, and took another deep breath.

  “I own a sizeable share of a multi-million-dollar mining company. I have a penthouse overlooking the beach at Bondi. I have a number of other investment properties around the city. I even own an apartment block in my hometown of Tamworth.” He shrugged. “I have money, Cally.”

  “B-but what about your work? Why would you be working so hard and all those long hours if you didn’t have to?”

  He shrugged again. “You might find this hard to believe, but work’s not always about the money. I love my job. It wouldn’t matter if I could finance a third world country on my own, I’d still show up at the station every day.”

  He caught her gaze and held it, his eyes intense. “My job defines me, Cally. It’s who I am. When I’m at work, I feel like I’m contributing to society, aiding in some small way, those who feel help is beyond their reach. What’s money, compared to that?”

  His lips compressed. “Any psychologist worth their salt would tell you I’m trying to compensate for the fuck-up my father made of his life, and I’d be the first one to agree with them, but it’s more than that. Maybe it started out that way, but not anymore. My father was my father, with all his faults and failings. He was what he was. I’m through with him. He no longer has power over me or the way I feel about things and he has nothing to do with the way I live my life now, each day.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I want to help those who can’t help themselves. If I manage to make even one person’s life a little easier for even part of a single day, then it’s a good day.”

  When she realized how far off the mark she’d been, she shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes welled up with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  He grimaced and looked away. “I wanted you to love me for who I am, not for what I could provide. It sounds stupid, but Nikki found my bank balance just as appealing as she found me—perhaps, even more so.”

  Cally shook her head again. She ought to be offended he’d thought her so shallow, but she knew having experienced the tragedy he had, she could understand his reluctance to be forthright. She reached over and cupped her hands around his face. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

  He leaned over and kissed her, his lips lingering on hers.

  “I think the same thing every time I look into your eyes.”

  Their kiss deepened and Andy’s hand stole down to cup her breast through her cotton blouse. Her nip
ple hardened in response and she arched her back to better fit into his palm.

  “You’d better watch out, sweetheart or I might just toss you onto the backseat,” he teased before turning his attention to her other breast.

  “Mm.” She was almost beyond caring what he did as long as he didn’t stop the sweet torture.

  “What time do we have to go and collect Jack?” he murmured, nuzzling on her ear.

  She opened her eyes and grinned at him. “Didn’t I tell you? He’s having a sleepover.”

  A single dark-blond eyebrow raised. “A sleepover? As in, a sleep-over-all-night sleepover?”

  Her grin widened. “Is there any other kind?”

  “And when do we get to pick him up from this all night sleepover?” His offhand manner belied the keen interest in his eyes.

  She shrugged. “Oh, about four o’clock tomorrow afternoon. The boys are going to spend Sunday in the city at the Aquarium.”

  His eyebrow lifted even higher. “Did you say four o’clock tomorrow?”

  “Ah huh.”

  Andy groaned. “In that case, you have way too many clothes on, woman,” he growled. “Let’s go inside.”

  * * *

  Stewart let the branch of the hibiscus bush snap back into place and did his best to keep his anger in check. Cally and her boyfriend had been at it for hours—they’d been fucking like rabbits when he arrived.

  He’d slunk down her driveway earlier with the intent of canvassing the area. When he spied the Audi and her battered old Toyota both parked in the drive, he’d taken extra care to conceal himself. It was fortunate there were so many places to hide.

  The blinds and curtains throughout the house had been opened to let in the sunshine. It made spying easier and for that he was grateful. He was easily able to locate Cally and her boyfriend in the house. He peered in through the louvered windows and stared at them as they rolled naked in the bedcovers.

  He couldn’t help but admire Cally’s taut, rounded butt and full, pert breasts as she bounced up and down on her lover’s cock. A decade had passed since he’d last fucked her, but her body looked much as it had when she was a girl. A little curvier, perhaps, but that only accentuated her appeal. The sight of her lush body sent a surge of blood to his groin and he couldn’t resist pulling out his cock and stroking it to full erection.