Page 130 of Tuxedos and Tinsel
But Andie and her team were temporary hired help—she the lead actress in a play put on for the benefit of a visiting businessman.This was all just for show.
Because of Walter Burton, because there were strangers in the house, they had to play their roles—he the doting fiancé and she his betrothed.
Andie came close, smiling, raised her face for his kiss. Was that too for show? Or because she was genuinely glad to see him? At the touch of her lips, hunger for her instantly ignited. He closed his eyes as he breathed in her sweet, spicy scent, not wanting to let her go.
A waiter passed by on his way to the outdoor terrace, with a tray of wine glasses.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Andie murmured. For the waiter’s benefit or for Dominic’s? She sounded convincing but he couldn’t be sure.
‘Me too—missed you, I mean,’ he said stiffly, self-consciously.
That was the trouble with this deception he had initiated. It was only too easy to get caught between a false intimacy and an intimacy that could possibly be real. Or could it? He broke away from her, stepped back.
‘Is this another misbehaving skirt?’ he asked.
He resisted the urge to run his hand over the curve of her hip. It would be an appropriate action for a fiancé but stepping over the boundaries of his agreement with Andie. Kisses were okay—their public displays of affection had to look authentic. Caresses of a more intimate nature, on the other hand, werenotokay.
She laughed. ‘No breeze tonight so we’ll never know.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Is there anything else you need to brief me about before Mr Burton arrives? I’ve read through the background information you gave me. I think I’m up to speed on what a fiancée interested in her future husband’s work would most likely know.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I have every faith you won’t let me down. If you’re not sure of anything, just keep quiet and I’ll cover for you. Not that I think I’ll have to do that.’
‘Fingers crossed I do you proud,’ she said.
Walter Burton arrived punctually—Dominic would have been surprised if he hadn’t. The more time he spent with his prospective joint venture partner, the more impressed he was by his acumen and professionalism.He really wanted this deal.
Andie greeted the older man with warmth and charm. Straight away he could see Walter was impressed.
She led him to the front terrace where the elegantly set round table—the right size for a friendly yet business orientated meal—had been placed against a backdrop of Sydney Harbour, sparkling blue in the light of the long summer evening. As they edged towards the longest day on December the twenty-second, it did not get dark until after nine p.m.
Christmas should be cold and dark and frosty. He pushed the painful thought away. Dwelling on the past was not appropriate here, not when an important deal hung in the balance.
Andie was immediately taken with Walter Burton. In his mid-sixties and of chunky build, his silver hair and close-trimmed silver beard gave him an avuncular appearance. His pale blue eyes actually sparkled and she had to keep reminding herself that he could not be as genial as he appeared and be such a successful tycoon.
But his attitude to philanthropy was the reason she was here, organising the party, pretending to be Dominic’s betrothed. He espoused the view that making as much money as you could was a fine aim—so long as you remembered to share it with those who had less. ‘It’s a social responsibility,’ he said.
Dominic had done nothing but agree with him. There was not a trace of Scrooge in anything he said. Andie had begun to believe the tag was purely a media invention.
Walter—he insisted she drop the ‘Mr Burton’—seemed genuinely keen to hear all the details of the Christmas party. He was particularly interested when she told him Dominic had actively sought to dampen press interest. That had, as intended, flamed media interest. They already had two journalists volunteer to help out on that day—quite an achievement considering most people wanted to spend it with their families or close friends.
Several times during the meal, Andie squeezed Dominic’s hand under the table—as a private signal that she thought the evening was going well. His smile in return let her know he thought so too. The fiancée fraud appeared to be doing the trick.
The waiter had just cleared the main course when Walter sat back in his chair, relaxed, well fed and praising the excellent food. Andie felt she and Dominic could also finally relax from the knife-edge of tension required to impress the American without revealing the truth of their relationship.
So Walter’s next conversational gambit seemed to come from out of the blue. ‘Of course you understand the plight of your Christmas Day guests, Dominic, as you’ve come from Struggle Street yourself,’ he said. ‘Yet you do your utmost to hide it.’
Dominic seemed shocked into silence. Andie watched in alarm as he blanched under his tan and gripped the edge of the table so his knuckles showed white. ‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ he said at last.
Walter’s shrewd eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve covered your tracks well, but I have a policy of never doing business with someone I haven’t fully researched. I know about young Nick Hunt and the trouble he got into.’
Dominic seemed to go even paler. ‘You mean the assault charge? Even though it never went to court. Even though I was a juvenile and there should be no record of it. How did you—?’
‘Never mind how I found out. But I also discovered how much Dominic Hunt has given back to the world in which he had to fight to survive.’ Walter looked to Andie. ‘I guess you don’t know about this, my dear.’
‘Dominic has told me about his past,’ she said cautiously. She sat at the edge of her seat, feeling trapped by uncertainty, terrified of saying the wrong thing, not wanting to reveal her ignorance of anything important. ‘I also know how very generous he is.’
‘Generous to the point that he funds a centre to help troubled young people in Brisbane.’ Andie couldn’t help a gasp of surprise that revealed her total lack of knowledge. ‘He hasn’t told you about his Underground Help Centre?’ Walter didn’t wait for her to answer. ‘It provides safe emergency accommodation, health care, counselling, rehab—all funded by your fiancé. Altogether a most admirable venture.’
Why had Dominic let everyone think he was a Scrooge?
