your career means to you.”
“Of course. I may not have had a career.” Carrie tried to look at it another way. “I mightn’t have made the grade. There are many, many fine young pianists out there. One almost has to have a gimmick.”
“Your beauty? Your personality?” James suggested, then stopped abruptly, realising it was all over.
“But I don’t need a gimmick after all.” For a moment Carrie had a stark image of the crash. Horror then sudden darkness. Then the full realisation when she woke up in hospital. “I need a job, Jamie,” she said. “You can help me. You’re handling this matter for your client?”
“I was going to allow Galbally to conduct the interviews,” James said.
Carrie allowed herself a little gasp of dismay not lost on her uncle.
“Dearest, I don’t have time,” James explained. “Women are so much better at these things.”
“Not Ms. Galbally.” Carrie raised her eyebrows.
“She takes her responsibilities very seriously,” James said loyally.
“I’m sure she does. Can’t you recommend me, Jamie?”
James dropped his head forward. “Your father wouldn’t like it at all. I can just image his response.”
“Glenda would.”
James responded to the irony. “But it mightn’t work out at all, Carrie. I don’t want to put you into a situation where you might be unhappy. Cut off and depressed.”
“Unhappier, don’t you mean? I can look after a little girl. She must be especially vulnerable. Like me. Maybe I can bring something to her. Two female creatures under pressure.”
James nibbled his nether lip. “Royce is coming to the office in a half hour. We have business to attend to. The revival in beef prices has boosted sales in the rural property sector. He’s thinking in terms of expansion.”
“Does he want to own the whole country?” Carrie asked with mild sarcasm.
“We need men like Royce McQuillan, dearest.”
“I know,” she relented. “Would it be okay if I waited?”
James sat back, focusing totally on his niece. “You’re serious about this?”
“Yes.” She touched the little finger of her right hand, and rubbed it in a distracted fashion. Strange, it still looked okay. “Of course I won’t know how serious until I lay eyes on the great nation builder, but as you like and approve of him he must be okay.”
“Indeed he is, which is not say he’s an easy man,” James considered. “He’s only into his thirties but already he has extraordinary presence. Such an aura! It takes most men years of achievement to acquire that.”
“Must be all the money,” Carrie quipped dryly.
James nodded. “That helps. The break-up of his marriage changed him in significant ways. Less likely to relax. Let down his guard. He’s more formidable.”
“He sounds an uncomfortable person. Is he bitter?”
James pursed his lips. “Not bitter as in surly or unpleasant. Nothing like that. He has great charm when he cares to use it. But the marriage break-up took away a certain lightness of spirit. The capacity for easy laughs.”
“Made him more wary of women I expect?”
“Beautiful women.” James looked full at her, captivated as ever by the lovely classical features, the bright colouring, most of all the close resemblance to his much-loved sister, Caroline.
That same lovely face now fell. “You mean he’s looking for someone very plain?” The idea was unsettling.
“I think pleasant would be his choice.” James glanced off.
“Then pleasant I’ll be,” said Carrie, all of a sudden sure life on an Outback cattle station would solve her problem.
She was holding the fort for Debra, Halliday, Scholes & Associates’ receptionist when he came through the door, confounding her. The blood drummed in her ears. The world tilted again.
“Why, hello there.” He spoke very smoothly as she looked up. “This is just so unexpected.”
Somehow mercifully the moment passed. She was able to breathe again. “It is…odd,” Carrie agreed, aware those brilliant black eyes were filled with amusement and mockery. “May I help you?” She was rather proud of the calm detachment of her voice.
“It’s your boss I’m after. James Halliday.”
“You have an appointment?” It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.
“Of course I have an appointment.” He gave a brief laugh. “You must be new. Royce McQuillan.”
She was struck by dread. There goes the job. The bolthole. “Of course, Mr. McQuillan.” She stared back at him. “The receptionist will be back in a moment but I’ll ring through for you.”
“No matter!” He dismissed that with a slight impatient gesture of his hand. “I’ll go along. Mr. Halliday is expecting me.”
“Then allow me to take you,” Carrie offered, coming around the reception desk as Debra approached from the opposite direction, increasing her pace as she recognised the client.
“Good morning, Mr. McQuillan,” she carolled, packing a lot of feeling into her voice. “Or is it afternoon?”
“In a few minutes.” He glanced down at his watch. “How are you, Debra?”
“I’m well. And you?” The receptionist came to a halt, staring up into his face, obviously thrilled he had taken the time to say a few words to her.
“Fine.” There was a brief glimpse of his devastating smile. Very white against the dark tan. “Busy as usual. This young lady here,” he turned to Carrie now standing at his shoulder, “is going to escort me to Mr. Halliday’s office.”
“That’s nice of you, Carrie,” Debra said, her colour warm, eyes bright. “Carrie is…”
“In the office for the day.” Carrie cut the other girl off smoothly. She didn’t want her relationship to James explained quite yet.
Debra smiled touching a hand to her soft bubbly curls. “Nice to see you, Mr. McQuillan. I won’t be here when you get back. I’ll be going off for lunch.”
“Joining the madding crowd?” He gave her a little salute.
“What part do you play in the scheme of things?” he asked Carrie as they moved off. “I recognise you from somewhere and I don’t mean our previous encounter.”
“I’m not famous,” she said. It came off her tongue rather acidly.
“Is that what’s tearing
