Page 39 of Betrayal

“I hate feeling helpless.Convincing Antonio to sponsor a childcare centre, helping make it real, being able to see the relief in women’s eyes when they know they have options makes up for those other failures.”

“Hunter seems to understand that.”

“What do you mean?”Anna asked, intrigued by Kate’s response.

“He could have given you your lease, let you do the work.Instead, he’s taking an active role and will offer his own staff and others the same opportunity.Whether you have anything to do with him after the centre is up and running—and he’s smart enough to know you might walk away—he’s building something to last.”

“You’re saying you like him.”

“I like what I’m hearing about him.”

“So do I.”And, for Anna, the heartfelt “thanks” from a sick and battered old man on the street was a more reliable guide to Hunter’s character than the business columns.

––––––––

The bar was one ofa string owned by an eastern suburbs socialite and entrepreneur.Anna had been in a few others, each unique, tastefully designed, the ambience welcoming.This Rose Bay celebrity hangout was a rendezvous and about a block from their final destination.Anna met Hunter outside, as arranged, the evening chill justifying her balloon coat.Hunter’s gaze dipped briefly to her knee-high black leather boots, then lifted to her face.

“Did you park closer to the house?”Anna peered around him.She hadn’t seen a car pull up.

“I don’t drive.”

“What’s with offering to pick me up all the time?”

“Cabs and ride shares can pick up and drop off at more than one location.”

“Thanks for explaining that.”She tucked her arm through his.“Anything I need to know before we arrive?Fill me in on the main players.”

“The hostess, Marygai Renouf, is wealthy, divorced, available, and claimed to be a friend of my mother.”

“Do you have reason to think she wasn’t a friend?”

“A story for another time—we’re here.”Stopping outside a gate in a two-metre-high wall sporting triple garages and security cameras, he pressed an intercom on the side.Static, then a request for a name.“Hunter,” he said.

“I guess there aren’t many guests called Hunter.”Anna noted his saturnine expression, a stiffness in his posture, infinitesimal signs of withdrawal a woman not schooled in the dramatic arts might miss.A childhood spent around directors, producers and actors taught you to watch for non-verbal signals.“Just guessing, but this isn’t your first visit.”

“Marygai’s lived here since I was a kid.”

The gate popped open, and Hunter gestured her ahead of him.

“I feel like I’m about to enter Aladdin’s Cave,” she said, then stepped through the gate and into a golden-coloured courtyard.“Provencal, as in Provence, France.I’m a fan of hanging vines and pots full of colour.Does Marygai have a gardener?”Anna trailed her fingers across a lavender bush before holding them to her nose.

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to have a gardener when I grow up.”

“In the meantime, keep moving, Anna.”

“I’m on my own here, aren’t I?”She walked her fingers up his chest.His suit had been a surprise, far more formal than his outfit at the cocktail party when this was supposed to be a gathering of old friends.“No background briefing notes.”

“I won’t abandon you.”

His bleak response didn’t reassure her.

The floodlit courtyard narrowed to a path leading down the side of the house.A security guard stood discreetly to one side of the entrance while a dark-suited majordomo type ushered them inside.“Madam, might like to take off her coat?”He spoke with old-fashioned formality.

Madam couldn’t wait.

Shedding her coat, Anna stifled a giggle at the muffled “hell” from the majordomo.

---