‘I can’t.’ Lily didn’t quite meet his gaze, stared instead at a spot on the wall behind him. I won’t make myself vulnerable to you by getting too close. ‘I’m busy.’
‘Let me make this clearer. It’s not an invitation, Lily.’ He looked down his nose at her, let her see the glitter of anger and frustration for a moment in his eyes before he hooded them. ‘Your presence is required.’
Maybe this wasn’t personal. Maybe she had done something, made some mistake here in the office?
Her mind raced with possibilities. She’d been skirting around him since she got here this morning. Had that made her lax in her duties somehow? Or had her shortcomings found her out?
Zach hustled her out of the office while she was still worrying. He rattled off their order to the bistro lady at the pub without consulting Lily for her choice, then led Lily to their allocated table and proceeded to drum his fingers on the polished surface.
‘What if I hadn’t wanted whiting fillets?’ She took the paper serviette from around her cutlery, and set everything just so in front of her. It might not be smart to goad him, yet she couldn’t help herself. ‘I might have preferred the roast pork, or the chicken pot-pie.’
His fingers came to an abrupt stop. He said, apparently out of nowhere, ‘Did you know that Daniel loves fish and chips?’
‘Does he?’ She kept her voice neutral, but wondered about that smooth-as-glass tone of his. ‘That’s nice.’
Their meals and drinks arrived. He held her gaze over the rim of his beer glass until they were alone again. ‘Daniel and I live just around the corner from each other. He stays overnight with me often, drops in evenings and weekends during the day. It’s pretty much open house to him any time I’m home.’
What about Zach staying the night with Daniel’s mother, or vice versa? Not that Lily cared about his bed partners, she told herself fiercely. And he was baiting her right now. She was sure of it. She glared at him, and took a defiant sip of her lemon squash.
Not another word would pass her lips on the topic. If he had something to say, then let him say it.
After eating most of the meal in loaded silence, she began to toy with her half-empty sachet of tartare sauce. Anything to keep her gaze from his, really, but in the end she couldn’t help it. Her resolve teetered, and fell. ‘You mentioned Daniel. What about his mother? What’s her name?’
‘His mother is the same one I have, actually. I wondered how long it would take you to ask.’ He speared a chip with his fork, seemed to take delight in the aggressive movement. ‘Our mother is Anne. Anne Swift.’
While he ate the chip, Lily drew a deep breath of pub-laden air and tried to assimilate this news. Zach and Daniel were brothers. There was no woman with a long history of involvement with Zach. Lily had jumped to a massive conclusion.
Her heart began to beat out an uneasy, rapid rhythm. ‘But that’s not, that can’t be—’
‘Daniel was a change-of-life baby, conceived three months before our father died.’ He laid down his cutlery, drew two well-thumbed photos from his wallet and flipped them one after the other across the table to her.
‘The first is of me and my parents the year before Dad died. It was an aneurysm.’ He spoke without particular inflection, but his fingers clenched. ‘He didn’t suffer. It was very fast.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ She suppressed the urge to touch his hand, and repeated the information over in her head because she couldn’t bear it if she were to forget this later. At times like this she hated her impediment!
‘I miss him.’ The understatement somehow made Zach’s loss all the more real to her. His gaze dropped to the other photo. ‘The second is Mum, Daniel and me. It was taken last year when we visited the Imax theatre here in Sydney for a treat for Dan’s birthday.’
‘In the first, you look about eighteen.’ He looked young and happy, as Lily had felt before her accident. She was still happy, she told herself, but for ever changed, just as Zach must have been by his father’s death.
But Zach hadn’t started this conversation to elicit sympathy. He had wanted to confront her mistake, to make a point about her jumping to conclusions. That was clear to her, and not entirely fair. ‘Why didn’t you say something when I—?’
‘Drew that conclusion with no help from me? By the time I realised what you thought, Dan had interrupted and I had to go.’ He reached for the photos. Their fingers touched, and he kept his grip on hers. ‘And then I wondered if it might be best to let you believe it.’
Anger gave way to something different. Something deeper. She sought the answer in his eyes, and found a wary, reluctant awareness that echoed deep inside her.
‘Yet you’ve told me. What changed your mind?’ She pulled her hand free, and hoped he couldn’t see how much she had wanted to leave it in his grasp.
‘Honesty.’ His gaze remained steadfastly on hers. ‘I don’t like deceptions.’
Deceptions such as secretaries not confessing their limitations to their boss, and planning to get out of working for him, even though he’d insisted on it? But her situation was different.
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