The ball of regret in Paige’s stomach grew even heavier. “That’s what troubles me the most.” Her voice trembled, and she couldn’t stop it. Fisting her hands, she forced herself to continue. “That Owen will lose out on Bandicoot Creek because of me—because of that stupid, stupid video. Because I put my trust in the wrong man. Owen thought he needed my help to schmooze Asquith, but in fact I wrecked his deal. I’m to blame.” Too agitated to sit, she pushed to her feet and circled the carpet. “There must be something I can do, but what?”
Ally watched her prowl around the room. “Do you know any other high-profile investors?”
“What?” Pausing, Paige ran her fingers through her hair. “No, I don’t know any billionaires.”
Ally shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be a billionaire, does it? Just someone who’s ‘in’ with the council and can get the project through the approval stage. Your family’s always had a standing in this town. What about your father?”
Her father would definitely know the right people, but would he want to help her? After paying so little attention to her all her life, why would he start now? But this time was different. This time she wasn’t seeking his attention for herself, but for Owen. If there was a remote chance of helping Owen, then she had to make her father listen to her.
“Paige?” Ally’s voice broke through her concentration. “Do you think your dad might help?”
“If he doesn’t, it won’t be for want of me trying.”
Chapter Thirteen
“But you’re not moving back to Sydney, are you?” The potato chip fell from Natasha’s fingers as she stared at her brother in dismay.
“No,” Owen quickly replied. “Not yet.” Although his Bandicoot Project had taken a hit, it wasn’t dead yet. It might still be approved by the town counciland pigs might fly, too. But he couldn’t give up yet. Especially when Natasha looked so worried. “I’m just swapping houses, that’s all. I’ll still be here in Burronga,” he said more cheerfully.
“Whew.” Relief spread over his sister’s face. “I was worried” She chewed her lower lip. “I like having you around.”
Owen’s heart panged. Most of the time his sister was so intent on being the cool teenager, so it was good to know she appreciated his company. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he picked up the potato chip she’d dropped on her lap and returned it to the bowl she was cradling.
“And I like having you around,” he said. They were seated in the den, watching a movie and sharing the chips. “We don’t often spend a weekend together, just the two of us. Usually you have a friend with you, like that Gretel girl.” He’d been meaning to talk with Natasha about her friends, and now that they were alone, this might be the perfect opportunity.
Natasha squirmed against the cushions. “Actually, Gretel and I aren’t such good friends anymore.”
“Oh? Why not?”
She shrugged. “We just aren’t. Does there have to be a reason?”
He could feel the tension in her shoulders. “There doesn’t have to be a reason,” he said carefully, “but if there is, I’d like to know.”
He paused, but Natasha continued to study the bowl of chips. Uneasiness stirred in his gut as he recalled Paige’s warnings about Argyle House. He wouldn’t put up with anyone persecuting Natasha. Nobody was going to pick on his baby sister.
“If there’s any bullying, you can tell me. I know how hard it can be to fit in sometimes, and that school of yours can be daunting. If you’re not happy there, just say the word and we’ll find you a better school.”
Natasha lifted her head. “Oh, no, I don’t want to leave Argyle House. I love it there.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. No one’s bullying me. I stopped being friends with Gretel because I didn’t like the way she was manipulating me, making me do stuff I wasn’t comfortable with. I stood up to her, and she backed off.”
“Well, uh, good for you.” His sister was a lot more mature than he gave her credit for. Slipping his arm free, he helped himself to a potato chip.
Natasha nodded, her face becoming animated. “It was my fault. I was too eager for her approval, but after Paige talked to me, I realized how stupid I was. I’m hanging out with other girls now, girls who don’t push me around.”
Owen compressed his lips at the mention of Paige’s name.
“Paige was really good to me.” Natasha popped a couple of chips into her mouth. “I wish she was still here,” she mumbled around her food. “Why did she have to leave?”
The ache returned to his chest as it always did when Paige crashed back into his thoughts. “She was only here temporarily. She had better things to do than be my housekeeper.”
“Is she in Sydney?”
“I guess.”
“Don’t you still talk to her?”
“No.” His jaw hurt from the grinding of his teeth.
Natasha crunched another chip. “Are you moving out of this house because of her?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m moving out because I don’t enjoy living here. I made a mistake, and fortunately Crystal Kerrigan wants the house back anyway, so everything works out.” When he’d called Crystal, at first she had been suspicious of his change of heart, but in the end she’d stiffly thanked him and even suggested he drop by for a drink sometime in the future, an offer he had no intention of taking up.
“But this house is great,” Natasha said. “It’s big and it has a fantastic pool.”
“Is that what you want? A fantastic pool? I’ll keep that in mind when I go house-hunting next week.”
She turned to him swiftly. “No, I don’t need a pool or a big house. I’m just happy you’re staying in Burronga.” She gave him a quick hug before returning her attention to the movie playing on the television.
Owen massaged the tight spot in his temple that had taken up permanent residence there ever since Paige left. Maybe it would disappear once he’d moved out of this house with all its reminders of Paige, but he doubted it, just as he doubted that any amount of hard work would fill the yawning hollowness inside him.
The entrance to the Burronga Country Club featured lots of wood and potted palms. The concierge gave Owen a quick once-over and didn’t seem to find any fault with Owen’s tailored trousers, business shirt, and taupe sports jacket. After signing the visitors’ register, Owen made his way to the restaurant at the rear of the clubhouse. Anticipation tingled along his nerves. Nate had been annoyingly mysterious about this lunch meeting with a potential investor. He’d refused to divulge any details, just insisted Owen be there at one o’clock.
At least this was distracting him from the black mood he’d sunk into. Maybe for a few hours he might even stop thinking about Paige. So far, everything he’d tried to scrub her from his thoughts had failed miserably. Work hadn’t helped, especially when he’d had to tell Jim that the weekend had been a disaster. Jim hadn’t pressed him for details, the old guy probably sensing his hair-trigger mood. The house seemed to mock him now, and he spent as little time there as possible.
Just outside the restaurant he paused to give himself a mental shake. Man, you’re letting Paige Kerrigan torture you all over again. He wasn’t a martyr. He wasn’t going to waste any more time on her. He would push all thought of Paige to one side and focus on this business meeting.
Shoulders squared, he made his way through the restaurant. He spied Nate sitting with another man at a table near the terrace. The man had his back to Owen and at first glance didn’t appear familiar. Owen walked up and clapped his hand on Nate’s shoulder.
“Hi, Nate.”
Grinning a welcome, his friend stood to shake his hand. “Glad you could make it.” He gestured toward the stranger who had also risen to his feet. “I’d like to introduce you to Eric Jensen. Eric, this is Owen Bellamy.”
Owen froze, hand half outstretched. Eric Jensen? What the hell was going on?
The other man shook his immobile hand. “Afternoon, Owen. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
Eric Jensen. The smooth golden boy who’d taken Paige to her school dance. The rich, handsome star who’d stood and watched while he was evicted from the hall. Dammit, there was no getting away from Paige.
“Why don’t we sit?” Eric suggested. Still good-looking and prosperous, judging by the expensive watch on his wrist, he seemed a little on edge.
“Not yet.” Owen pinned him with a heavy stare. “Does Paige have anything to do with this meeting?”
The other guy fiddled with his watch before lifting his hands. “Well, yes. She approached me and said she knew of a lucrative property development I might want a piece of.”
“She told you about my development?” His mind raced. Had Paige betrayed him? Had she leaked confidential details to her old friends? Acid stung the back of his mouth. His hands clenched spasmodically.
“Not in much detail, but enough to pique my interest.”
Slowly Owen unclenched his hands. “Didn’t know you were interested in property development.”