One Real Man (Entangled Bliss)(6)

“It was good enough for me and my dad and my sister.”

Yikes, she didn’t care for that barb in his voice. For all his denial, Owen was hell-bent on grinding home his advantage over her. Well, just because their roles were switched, that was no reason for him to think he was better than her. No matter how down on her luck she was, she was still Paige Kerrigan, and she wouldn’t let him forget that.

She lifted her head to give him her frostiest stare. “And it’ll be good enough for me.”



Using his hand to shade his eyes from the glare, Owen gazed across the paddocks where a few goats picked their way over the badly eroded slopes. The man standing next to him did likewise, and for a few moments they studied the landscape in silence broken only by the distant squawk of yellow-crested cockatoos.

“Well?” Owen turned to his companion. “What do you think?”

Nate Hardy rested a boot against the sagging wire fence and gestured toward the small, weed-choked creek winding through the lower fields. “So that trickle of water is Bandicoot Creek?”

“Yep. It’s a good name for our development. Bandicoot Creek. Makes you think of countryside, peace, greenness, tranquillity.”

“Good for marketing. People moving to Burronga are looking for all that.”

“And that’s exactly what they’ll get here, once we rehabilitate the creek and fix the erosion problems. This won’t be a cheap, dreary, cookie-cutter suburb or an energy-guzzling, exclusive gated community. It’s going to be eco-sensitive, spacious, and affordable at the same time.” Enthusiasm rose in Owen as he warmed to his subject. “We need a development like this in Burronga, something a little more egalitarian than what we currently have.”

Burronga, a prosperous midsize country town, had always attracted its fair share of wealthy people, who favored multimillion-dollar acreages like the Kerrigan place. The not-so wealthy made do with old weatherboard houses or modest town house developments. There wasn’t much in between, but Owen was determined to change that.

Nate slanted him a cynical look. “Ever wonder if there’s a reason for that?”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe the rich dudes prefer it that way. Makes them feel more exclusive without having upstarts crowding out their view. And these are the people on the city council, with the power to veto developments like Bandicoot Creek.”

Owen studied his companion more closely. Technically, Nate Hardy could be classified as one of the “rich dudes” these days, as he’d made a fortune in investment banking before returning to Burronga for a simpler life. But Nate came from the wrong side of the tracks, just like Owen, and didn’t show any inclination to jump the social divide.

Nate owned a garden landscaping business and also did financial consulting for a few select clients, which was how Owen had gotten to know him. They’d been working together for only a few months, but already they were more than just business colleagues, and Owen had come to value Nate’s opinions.

“They won’t veto Bandicoot Creek,” Owen said in reply to Nate’s doubts. “It’s a great proposal. It’ll be good for jobs and good for the environment. Right now this land is hardly fit for those goats over there. How can anyone not agree it’s an excellent idea?”

Shaking his head, Nate clapped a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Mate, haven’t you learned yet? It’s not what you know, it’s who you know that’s important. You have to go out there and sell yourself to the knobs that matter. You have to be prepared to do a lot of schmoozing.”

Owen muttered a curse. Schmoozing was as alien to him as the opera. He had no small talk, no capacity to flatter, to lie, to pretend. He was who he was, take it or leave it. That was how he’d always operated, and he’d done all right so far.

“I can’t stand phonies,” he said. “Especially rich phonies.”

“Anyone else in your company who could do the schmoozing for you? How about Jim McCarthy?”

At sixteen, Owen had been apprenticed to Jim McCarthy, an old building buddy of his dad’s. He’d worked unstintingly for Jim, grateful for the chance to quit Burronga and keen to help out his dad in any way he could. In his spare time he’d completed a business diploma, and increasingly Jim had included him in the company decisions, until last year Jim had offered him a partnership in McCarthy Construction.

“I have a lot of respect for Jim,” Owen said, “but I doubt he’s any better at schmoozing than I am.” Jim bought his clothes from Kmart, went to the greyhound track every week, rolled his own cigarettes, and when forced to, could out-cuss anyone on a building site. “He’s left all the selling of this one to me.”

Nate grunted. “That’s a heck of a responsibility he’s given you.”

A sixty-million-dollar responsibility. All resting on his shoulders. Owen tensed his back as if he could already feel the obligation weighing on him.

“Bandicoot Creek was my idea in the first place,” he said. “The land was going cheap, even though it’s a sizable investment for us. I know it’s stretching our finances beyond comfort level, but sometimes we have to take risks.”

And the rewards would be sweet. By pulling off Bandicoot Creek, he’d be able to thank Jim for everything he’d done for him, plus he’d prove to everyone else in McCarthy Construction that he was worthy of the partnership. And then there was Heidi, Jim’s twenty-three-year-old daughter. Bandicoot Creek would help soothe some of the guilt Owen felt over her and that unfortunate New Year’s Eve incident.

He braced one foot against the fence, then vaulted clear over the wire. “Come on.” He motioned to Nate to follow him. “I’ll show you around.”

Together they clambered over the uneven ground. Owen pointed out the noxious weeds, the crumbling ditches, and the silted creek, all results of bad farming practices. The only thing going for this parcel of land was its location, a ten-minute drive from town and near the ninth fairway of the Burronga Country Club’s championship golf course.

Nate nodded at the fairway. “You should join the country club. Rub shoulders with all the old boys.”

“Yeah, right.” Owen snorted. “I can just see all those members leaping up to propose and second my application.”

“Well, you’ve got the right address now. You’re renting the Kerrigan house, aren’t you?”

“That’s right.”

Nate kicked at a clump of prickly pear. “Rather you than me, mate. That house doesn’t hold fond memories for me.”

Owen frowned. “Didn’t know you were connected with the Kerrigans.”

“Only indirectly. My cousin was the chump who married Paige Kerrigan.”

Owen’s throat tightened. “Seth Bailey’s your cousin? Crap. I never made the connection before.”

“‘Crap’ is the operative word.” Nate snickered without humor. “He’s turned into a real douche bag. I don’t hear from him these days, and that suits me fine after what he did to Paige.” Turning, he aimed an inquisitive look at Owen. “So why did you say ‘crap’?”

Owen shrugged. “I hired a new housekeeper this morning. Paige Kerrigan.”

His friend stared at him for several moments before he tilted his head back and burst out laughing. “Paige Kerrigan’s your housekeeper in her own house? Come on, you’re pulling my leg!”

“No, it’s true.” In a few brief sentences he explained what had happened.

Nate shook his head and whistled in disbelief, still chuckling. “She’s going to cook you breakfast? Hell, you’re brave. I’d be too afraid she’d poison me, either by design or accident.”

“I might have gone too far with the breakfast thing,” Owen admitted. He hadn’t intended adding cooking to her duties, but he’d been irked by her offhand manner to his job offer.

“You think?” Nate laughed. “That woman is just not made for domestic duties. She was maxing out her credit card when they handed out the homemaker genes.”

Nothing Owen didn’t already know. But his mind was occupied with something Nate had said earlier. “What did you mean by Seth being a douche bag? What did he do to Paige? Did he cheat on her?”

Nate sobered up fast. “You don’t know? Jeez, I thought everyone around here knew.”

The muscles in Owen’s arms bunched up. “What happened?” It had to be something sleazy, he thought as unease heaved in his stomach. Something sordid, to force a proud girl like Paige to go running for cover.

“Seth had a video of Paige dancing around topless. I guess it was taken just after they were married, when the gloss hadn’t worn off yet. After they separated, he posted it on the internet and it went viral before he finally removed it. I think Paige must have threatened to cut his balls off.” Nate shrugged. “Paige can be a real pain in the arse, but she didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that.”

Nobody did. Owen hauled in a breath of air as he tried to order his milling thoughts.

“Topless, huh?” Damn, why was that the first thing to come out his mouth?

Nate grinned. “Yup. I wouldn’t pick Paige as someone who lets herself be filmed without her shirt on. She’s always so stitched up.”