the distance of an unconnected observer.
Right. And he did. He’d simply become distracted for a moment. The same thing applied to the head twitch he’d experienced earlier. It wouldn’t happen again in front of her. He’d make sure of that as he did in all other circumstances.
Brent nodded in a completely concise, controlled manner as he came to this conclusion. If he felt somewhat relieved to have arrived back at a more known, comfortable place in his thinking, he told himself this was a good thing, anyway. ‘Let’s take you to Jaimie so you can sign your employment agreement and leave the lease with her.’
Once Fiona had done that, Brent gestured to his office area. ‘Would you like to hear about some of the projects I’ve got going? Some preliminary information to give you an idea of what’s in store for you?’
‘Oh, yes, please. That will give me a chance to think over the weekend before I start work officially on Monday.’ Fiona half-reached one hand towards him, dropped it self-consciously to her side, and her face pinked slightly.
His gaze locked onto that blossom of colour and his breath caught…
He pushed the door of his office open and stepped through to open the adjoining door. ‘You’ll be working in here. It’s a decent-sized room. I hope it’ll suit your needs.’
His voice was deep. Too deep. He cleared his throat.
Fiona’s gaze tracked around the long room, dodged his. ‘I’m sure it will. It’s a generous working space. There’s good light for my easel work, and plenty of desk space for computer monitors.’
‘I imagine there’ll be times when you’ll need all of that space.’
‘Is it okay to dress casually for when I’m painting? I realise there’ll be times when I need to look smart. Client discussions…’ A little ridge formed between her brows. ‘Perhaps I should just dress smart all the time, and wear a smock or something when I paint. I’m inclined to be a bit messy during that process, but I could try to change that.’
‘There’s a dressing room. I keep clothes here. You can do the same. Messy is fine, anyway.’ The thought of her using his changing room, shedding clothes and putting on new ones, wasn’t a place he needed to go.
So get on with it, MacKay. ‘On Monday we’ll be helping to finish up a landscaping project, and I’ll want you to take photos and think about a painting for the clients. They’re an elderly couple, very agreeable. They’ll be happy with whatever you put together. The photos will go into a Progress Album for the clients and our stock here for showing clients how we work. Nothing for newspapers or magazines, though. I accept the occasional interview to keep the media off my back but I’m selective, so if you’re ever approached I expect you to shoot the enquiry straight to me.’
‘I will do that.’ Her expression showed she didn’t understand the ‘why’ of it, but her acceptance was enough. ‘And I can certainly take the photos and also use them to help me create an appropriate painting for the clients.’
Fiona gave him a pleasant but firm look. ‘It’s not ideal to come in partway through and need to produce a painting in that way, but I’m sure that won’t happen in the future.’
Brent liked a woman—correction, a person—with enough spunk to say what they wanted.
From the distance of an observer. You like it from that distance. ‘Don’t worry. You’ll be included in future planning. In fact, I have a project that’s been driving me mad for the last three weeks. The client won’t settle on a design. I’m hoping if I pull you in on that one it might get me the breakthrough I need.’
‘Okay, well, that’s good then, and I’ll be happy to try to help with your project.’ Her expression held the slightest sheepish edge before she squared her shoulders and seemed to decide it was best she’d been clear about her expectations.
Brent went on to explain the problems with the project he’d mentioned, and to discuss some other issues. Work was easy. He always felt at home with his landscape projects.
An hour later Fiona stood at the door of his office once more, bag in hand, and thanked him for his time. ‘I can’t wait to start work Monday. I’ll have some photographic equipment to bring out to the landscaping site, if that’s okay.’
‘That’s fine. Anything you bring will be safe there, though we should get your equipment added to the business’s insurance cover.’
‘Shall I phone the details in later today? Model numbers and so on?’
‘Do that. You can leave them with Elizabeth, my receptionist.’ With this issue resolved, Brent went on, ‘If you need help to move into your flat this weekend—’
Fiona smiled her thanks, but shook her head. ‘I can get Tommy to use his delivery truck to help me shift the larger items. My friends all knew I was coming for this interview, so they’ve been on standby, half-expecting this.’
So ‘Tommy’ was simply one of those ‘friends’? Brent couldn’t explain why he suddenly felt…lighter than he had a few seconds ago. ‘Okay, then I guess I should let you go so you can start making arrangements.’
Fiona made a little bouncing motion on the balls of her feet. ‘A new home, a new job and a new part of the city to live in. I can’t wait to take it all on. Thank you again, Mr MacKay—Brent—for this chance.’
‘You’re more than welcome.’ Brent said his goodbyes and then watched her leave the building, hips swaying with each step she took.
And then he immersed himself in landscape plans, where he could line up his ideas in neat rows and spend as long as he needed on each aspect of his work. His head twitched sharply to the right, but he was by himself now. He didn’t worry about trying to conceal the action.
At least the condition he lived with was good for helping him to focus on his work, and he had every right to keep knowledge of it from the world at large. It was in his best interests to do so. His father’s past behaviour had made that abundantly clear.
Brent dug into his plans and put thoughts of Fiona Donner’s lovely smile—of his new employee’s smile—right out of his mind…
Chapter Two
‘A DOZEN shrubs for you, Russ.’ A worker placed the shrubs on the ground and moved away to collect another load.
It was Monday afternoon, towards the end of Fiona’s first day at the new job. Spending it out of doors helping to complete an actual work project as well as gather photographic resources for her painting and for the company to use to showcase its services had been a thrill. She smiled to herself as words continued to flow around her.
‘Hey, Phil. Can I use that mattock for the next ten minutes?’
‘Great job with the bougainvillea, Chelsea.’ This was Brent’s voice as he turned his head to check on one of the more junior members of the ground team. ‘Keep up the good work.’
The sun was shining and the ten-acre work site on the edge of a newish Sydney suburb was abuzz with activity. Brent was motivated and positive and determined, and the ground workers responded to his authority and encouragement by giving their absolute best. He was at
