"At least you had that."
"Yeah, I did. And I promised her that one day I'd make it up to her, but she died before I could give her what she deserved."
"And your father? He still didn't help you, even when she died?"
Josh's bark of laughter lacked humour in any form. "No, I came across his contact details in her things when she died. Up until then I didn't even know who he was. Mum would never talk about him and whenever I'd bring it up she'd change the subject. Then, later, I'd always hear her crying in her room. It doesn't take too many times before a kid realises his need to know takes a back seat to his mother's happiness."
Josh shifted to one side, letting Callie slide from his lap. He rose and walked over to the bookcase that lined one wall of the room. On one shelf stood a small box, like a miniature pirate's chest. He lifted it with both hands and turned back to Callie.
"She always kept this at her bedside. Locked, of course, although that didn't stop me trying to get into it," he admitted with a rueful smile. "She was good at hiding things, though, and I only found the key after she'd died."
He dug into his trouser pocket and pulled out his keys and, selecting the smallest, opened the box. From where she sat Callie could see the yellow paper of a stack of envelopes, tied together with a length of faded pink silk ribbon.
"They're letters, from him. He stopped writing when she got pregnant with me."
"Have you read them?" Callie asked, feeling as if she was poised at the edge of a precipice. Were these letters the key to what Irene needed?
"Yeah, I made myself read every one of them-even the letter and cheque that were sent to my mother, paying her off and telling her to get out of town."
"She never cashed the cheque? Why? She must have desperately needed the money."
"As I said before, her pride wouldn't let her. I think she felt she'd lost so much already that she wasn't prepared to lose that, too."
"I can't believe you've kept them all this time. Wouldn't it be better to destroy them, to let go?"
"They were my only contact with a father I'd never known. I've kept his lies as a reminder of what he owed my mother-what he owed me. And I vowed on my mother's grave that I'd make him pay one day."
"Josh, surely you can't mean that," Callie protested. "Everyone has to learn to let go eventually."
She levered herself up and out of the seat and crossed the room to take the box from his hands and place it back on the bookcase next to him. She slid her arms around his waist, desperate to offer him comfort, but he remained rigid in her embrace.
"Oh, yes," he replied, his voice hard and strangely detached, a total contrast to the warm, loving companion she'd known over the weekend. "I mean every word of it. He'll regret that he didn't do what was right. He'll regret every word of his lies and the world will finally know what a two-faced bastard he really is. And when he's forced to publicly acknowledge me, he will know that he, and he alone, was the master of his own destruction."
A finger of dread touched Callie's heart. She had no doubt that Josh would follow through on his promise, and she would hate to be in the shoes of the man he targeted. If there was anything she was certain of at this moment, it was that Josh was a man driven by his emotions-and given those emotions, what would he do to her when he found out the truth about why she was here?
Nine
That night when they made love there was an edge of desperation to Josh's touch-a driven hunger that Callie ached to assuage-but she knew, even as she finally drifted to sleep in his arms, that she could never remedy what ailed his heart.
The next morning, after a night of fractured sleep, she slipped from the bed and went downstairs. If she couldn't sleep, at least she could make herself useful and put together something for them to enjoy for breakfast.
It was as she passed through to the kitchen her eyes were drawn to the small chest sitting on the bookcase. Still open. She hesitated a moment, then, with a tentative hand, slid the top envelope out from under the ribbon.
The postmark was dated more than thirty years ago and the masculine handwriting on the envelope stood out in stark black lines. Callie slid open the flap and unfolded the sheets of paper within. No matter how stark the bold strokes of the handwriting they could not detract from the words of love that filled the page. Callie felt a lump form in her throat as she read the first page filled with private words of love between a man and his mistress. Words that spoke of his frustration in being trapped in a marriage of propriety and expectation. A marriage that was barren of the joy of children.
These weren't the words of a man who lied, of that Callie was certain. She felt as if she were intruding to read any more, as if she were trespassing on what had been a deeply intimate connection between two people. She refolded the sheets and slid the letter back into its envelope. The sheer depth of emotion she'd felt reading that single page filled her with a sense of helplessness and, yes, even envy that one woman had been the object of a man's love and devotion to such an extent. Her fingers trembled as she replaced the envelope in the stack and carefully closed the lid on the chest Callie firmly believed should have been buried with its owner. The letters didn't deserve to be used as a tool for revenge.
They were private, a glimpse into the love and loss between two people who loved at the wrong time. A couple destined to be torn apart.
She couldn't help wondering whether it would be the same for her and Josh. He wouldn't suffer her betrayal in silence. He'd come for her with all guns blazing, unless she could somehow satisfy Irene's demands without him finding out.
Somehow, she didn't fancy her chances.
Irene had celebrated a birthday over the weekend, and Callie had promised to stop in and see her at home after work on Monday. As she drove over the Harbour Bridge to their Northcote Point address, she couldn't help but keep an eye on her rearview mirror. Her double life was beginning to mess with her mind, and she castigated herself as a paranoic fool for believing that Josh even suspected her of any duplicity. He wasn't the kind of man to put a tail on her. Oh, no. If he had any idea of what she was up to, he'd confront her, up front and personal, and demand his answers in no uncertain terms.
Callie's heart ached with the fear of him finding out. The more time she spent with him, the more she could feel herself falling in love with him, piece by inexorable piece. And she knew that was a recipe for disaster. To even begin to think that her love might be returned was destined for failure. She was in an untenable position unless she told Irene she could no longer fulfil her promise.
The very thought filled her with trepidation. She owed Irene everything and she'd felt honour-bound to repay the older woman with her loyalty. All of which made what she was about to do very, very difficult. She couldn't go through with it. Not any longer. Irene's obsession with Josh Tremont was unfounded. The two corporations worked on the same playing field, competed for the same work, time and time again. Yes, Josh had had a mole in the Palmer Enterprises structure, which weakened their chances, but now that that mole had been exposed, surely Irene could let go of her fears and rely on the Palmers' business acumen and longstanding reputation to hold their own.
And let Callie fall in love with Josh.
Callie gripped the steering wheel tight as she took the turnoff that led to the cliff-top home of the Palmer family. She wondered how they'd feel, leaving it all behind to take up the consular position in Guildara.
She punched in the security code at the gate and coasted down the driveway, all the while fighting back the nerves that threatened to send her stomach into orbit.
Irene was her usual impeccable self, rising from the sofa in the formal lounge as Callie was shown in.
"How are you, my dear?" she asked, bussing Callie on the cheek as she greeted her. "You look tired. I hope that man isn't demanding too much of you."
No more than she willingly gave him, Callie thought to herself as she forced a smile and shook her head.
Irene exclaimed over Callie's gift to her, a vintage Chanel handbag they'd seen on a shopping expedition together months earlier. It had cost far more than Callie would ordinarily spend on a gift, but Irene was worth it. Without her steady hand guiding Callie's life, who knew where she'd have ended up?