Billionaire Bosses Collection. Кэрол Мортимер
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got her to agree to manage the biggest campaign of his career—and the one that meant the most. He’d also coerced her into staying with him for a week, and to be his date for the wedding.
Considering how he’d ended things between them all those years ago, he hadn’t just pulled off the impossible he’d pulled off a miracle.
* * *
Archer didn’t want his family getting wind of his house-guest just yet.
The Christmas Eve wedding would be bad enough without the Flett hordes descending on his place to check her out.
He’d twigged pretty fast that despite Callie being a Melbourne girl she was vastly different from his usual choice of date. She didn’t need a truckload of make-up before being seen in the morning, she didn’t need a hair-straightener or the name of the nearest manicurist, and she didn’t wrinkle her nose at walking on the beach in case her pedicure got chipped.
Maybe he’d made a mistake asking her to be his date for the wedding, because from where he was sitting, staring at the distant dot strolling on the beach, her hair streaming in a dark cloud behind her, he wondered if she’d be enough of a safeguard.
Callie was naturally warm and vibrant, not aloof and standoffish, the way he wanted his women to be when he visited home.
He liked that his folks disapproved of his dates and kept their distance. That was the whole point. What if they were drawn to Callie like he was and his plan to keep them at arm’s length came crashing down?
He had to keep the Fletts away for as long as possible until the wedding, just in case.
He’d managed to fly under the radar so far. Last night had been spent poring over Callie’s ideas for the surf school website, thrashing out slogans and content, working late over homemade pizzas and beer.
It scared him, how comfortable it was having her around. He’d never had a woman stay at his place, let alone lived with anyone. It was his sanctuary, away from the surf crowd, the fans, the media.
No one knew he owned this place except his family.
Some of whom were belting down his door at this very minute.
Damn. So much for keeping their distance.
Cursing under his breath, he yanked the door open and glared at Trav and Tom, ignoring the familiar squeeze his heart gave when he glimpsed Izzy, his six-year-old niece, peering up at him from behind her dad’s legs.
He hated how out of all the Fletts she was the one guaranteed to make him feel the worst for staying away. The kid was too young to realise what was going on, but she managed to lay a guilt trip on him every visit.
At three, she’d stuck her tongue out at his date every chance she got and bugged him to teach her how to surf. He’d begged off with his usual excuse—only staying for two days, maybe next time.
At four, she’d placed stick insects in his date’s handbag and a hermit crab in her designer shoe, while pestering him for the elusive surf lesson.
At five, she’d verbally flayed his date for her ‘too yellow’ hair and ‘too red’ lipstick, and had given up asking him to surf.
He should have been glad. Instead it had ripped him in two when he’d said goodbye to her around this time last year.
It wasn’t Izzy’s fault he had issues with the rest of his family, but he was scared. Getting close to Izzy might let the rest of them in again, which made him angsty. What if he let them into his heart again only to have it handed back to him like eight years ago?
Every trip home it was the same. Initial tension between him and his brothers soon easing into general ribbing and guy-chat, his mum fussing around him, and prolonged stilted awkwardness with his dad. He still wanted the security of Callie as his buffer zone, but maybe this time he’d swallow his pride and make the first move.
He’d wanted to in the past, but every time he made the decision to broach the gap he’d realise two days weren’t long enough to make up for the years apart.
This year he was staying for a week. No excuse.
He squatted down to her level. ‘Hey, Iz, long time no see.’
She frowned, but it didn’t detract from the curious sparkle in her big blue eyes.
The expression in those eyes—guileless, genuine, trusting—slugged him anew. A guy couldn’t hide for long from those eyes. They saw too much, knew too much—including the fact he was acting like a recalcitrant jerk in not welcoming his brothers into his home.
He opened his arms, saw the indecision on her face before she slowly stepped out from behind Tom’s legs. She hesitated and his gut squelched with sadness.
It shouldn’t be like this—his own niece treating him like a stranger. He’d done this, with his stubborn pride. He needed to get over the past. For the longer it took the harder it became to pretend nothing had happened and go back to the way it had been before: a close-knit family who supported each other through everything.
Archer waited, eyeballing Izzy, hoping she could see how much he wanted to squeeze her tight.
After another interminable second that felt like sixty, she flung herself into his arms. He exhaled in relief as he hugged her hard, ignoring the flutter in his chest he got every time this kid wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on as if she’d never let go.
‘Where’ve you been?’ She released him, stepped back and crossed her arms as he stood. ‘You never come see me any more.’
Practically squirming under the interrogation, Archer floundered for words that wouldn’t sound like a trite excuse.
Tom placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. ‘You know your uncle travels a lot, honey. We’re lucky to see him when he has time.’
Ouch. Tom’s barb slugged him like the punches they’d traded as kids, wrestling at the water’s edge to see who’d get the long board for the day.
‘At least he always brings me a gift,’ Izzy said, pushing her way past him and bounding to the chessboard set up in a far corner, her natural exuberance replacing the reticence that sliced him up inside.
‘Manners, Iz,’ Tom said, following his daughter into the room and looking around in a not too subtle attempt at sussing out Callie’s whereabouts.
‘Couldn’t keep your big mouth shut, huh?’ Archer elbowed Trav as he brought up the rear. ‘When we surfed the other day you said you’d keep your lips zipped about me being back early.’
His youngest brother grinned. ‘Tom threatened me with bodily harm, and considering he’s around a lot more than you, I caved.’
Great—another dig at his absenteeism. Closely following Izzy’s reluctant treatment, it made him feel like a heel.
‘So where is she?’ Tom stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around.
‘Who?’
‘This mystery woman, of course.’ Tom eyeballed him. ‘When you make it home for your obligatory Christmas visit your date stays in town. So the fact she’s staying here speaks volumes.’
Tom jerked a thumb in Trav’s direction. ‘We want to check her out, make sure she hasn’t got two heads, ’cos that’s the only kind of woman who’d be crazy enough to stay here with you.’
Despite another dig from Tom about his obligatory visits, Archer felt his tension fade at his brother’s jocularity. ‘Wanna beer?’
‘Sure.’
Ideally Archer didn’t want them hanging around long enough to meet Callie, who’d gone for a walk on the beach to clear her head after a marathon morning brainstorming. But Tom was right; he barely saw his brothers any more and, even though they’d been complicit in his dad’s decision to keep the truth secret, he