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might need help in shifting to a new apartment.”
“I like the apartment I’ve got, thank you.”
“Not a good idea, keeping it, Amy. Memories can be depressing. I realise shifting would be another upheaval you might not want to face right now, but a clean break is the best medicine. Gets rid of the hangover.”
“Well, I’m sure you’d know that, Jake,” she said with blistering sarcasm.
The acid didn’t make a dint. “I’ll help you,” he said, as though she’d conceded to his argument instead of commenting on his quick turnover in women.
“I don’t need your help.”
He smiled and blithely waved her protest aside. “Consider me family. It’s times like these that family bucks in and picks up the slack. Since I’m the closest thing you’ve got to family…”
“I do not…remotely…associate you…with family,” Amy stated emphatically.
“Well, yes…” One shoulder lifted and fell. Devilment danced into his eyes. “…That probably would be a bit incestuous, wouldn’t it?”
“What?” she squawked.
“I can’t lie to you, Amy,” he declared loftily. “What zips between you and me could not be called sisterly…or brotherly…or motherly…or fatherly.”
She flushed, biting her tongue so as not to invite more along this line.
“However, I am genuinely concerned about you,” he said, projecting such deep sincerity it swallowed up the devilment and threatened to suck Amy in right after it.
She fought fiercely for a bank of common sense, needing some safe ground between her and Jake Carter. The danger of him infiltrating her private life felt very acute and every instinct told her it wasn’t wise. He could badmouth Steve as much as he liked but was he any better? His record with women was hardly in his favour!
“I’ll ask around,” he burbled on. “Find you a nice apartment. Closer to work so you won’t have far to travel. Bondi Beach isn’t really suitable for you.”
“I like Bondi,” she protested.
He frowned at her. “Not good for a woman on her own. A lot of undesirables gather out there at weekends. You wouldn’t be safe going out at night without an escort.”
He had a point, but where was safe at night without an escort? Life without Steve was going to take some adjustment.
“Why not have a look around Balmoral if you want to live by a beach?” Jake suggested. “It’s a respectable area. Doesn’t draw any trouble.”
She rolled her eyes at him and his big ideas. “It’s also a very expensive area.”
“No more than Bondi. And being on the north side of the harbour, it’s much handier to Milsons Point. You won’t have to drive across the bridge to work.”
“I can’t afford it. I can’t afford where I am without a partner.”
“I said I was upping your salary. Let’s say another twenty percent. That should let you live decently.”
Amy’s mouth dropped open. Her mind flew wildly into calculation mode. “That’s more than Steve earns!”
He grinned. “You’re worth it. I’ll just go and ring a few estate agents I know. See what they can come up with. In the meantime, send these off.” He handed her the replies she’d printed out. “They’re all fine.”
He hitched himself off her desk and left her gaping after him like a goldfish caught in a bowl, looking out at a foreign world. Jake Carter had always been a shaker and a mover, but never before on her behalf. Was it out of concern for her or did he have other motives up his sleeve?
Amy ran her fingers through her hair, trying to steady the mad whirl in her mind. What could she believe as irrefutable fact? Both Jake and his sister were into gameplaying, scoring points. Nothing they said could be taken too seriously.
On the other hand, Jake always delivered what he promised. He wouldn’t backtrack on the money. Her salary would now be more than she’d ever dreamed of earning, putting her on a financial level where she was truly independent. Which meant she had options she didn’t have before.
A grin broke across her face.
Such a large salary would certainly make her life considerably brighter and it was wonderful to be valued so highly. This morning she’d felt her future had fallen into a black hole, but it wasn’t true. There was life after Steve. And she was going to make the most of it, thanks to Jake.
Though if her devious boss was thinking he could attach personal strings to that big hunk of money he’d just handed her, he could think again!
AMY had just finished filing copies of the letters she’d sent when Jake erupted into her office.
“Grab your handbag,” he commanded. “We’re off.”
“Where to?”
“I’ll explain on the way.” He checked his watch as he crossed her office to the door. “We’ve got precisely twenty-five minutes to make the rendezvous.”
Amy grabbed her handbag and scooted after him.
Jake had the door open for her. She strode into the corridor and summoned the elevator, glad they were going to be involved in some outside activity. Jake would be busy with other people who would take his focus off her and she could get back to feeling relatively normal in his company again.
She always enjoyed these meetings with clients, watching Jake work his brand of magic on them. “Who’s the target?” she asked as they stepped into the elevator together.
“Not who. What,” he said enigmatically, pressing the ground floor button.
“A new boat?”
He shot her a look of exasperation as the elevator descended. “We do not deal in boats, Amy. Only in yachts,” he reminded her.
“Sorry. Slip of the tongue.”
“Watch it,” he advised darkly. “I want my P.A. to impress the man we’re going to meet.”
“What’s his name?”
“Ted Durkin of Durkin and Harris. Big property dealers.”
The name meant nothing to her but clearly it was well known to Jake. The elevator opened onto the re-ception area before she had time to question him. Jake steered her out and pointed her to the stairwell that led down to the back of the building where he parked his car in a private yard reserved for himself and clients.
“Kate,” he called to his front woman, “we’re out of the office. Take messages.”
“When will you be back?”
“Don’t know. If it’s anything urgent I can be reached on my mobile.”
He hurried Amy down the stairs and outside, using the remote button on his key to unlock the BMW M3 supercar which he currently fancied. Amy headed for the passenger side of the two-door coupe. Haste precluded courtesy. They both took their seats and Jake handed her a folded piece of notepaper as he switched on the ignition.
“What’s this?”
“Where we’re going. Better get out the Gregory’s Street Directory and navigate for me. Haven’t got time for wrong turns. I’m right to Military Road. After that, you direct me.”
She extracted the guide book from the glove box and settled back for the ride. The scribbled list on the notepaper did not enlighten her as to their destination. In