Frances Housden

Shadows Of The Past


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few, and not for at least a year, but this time I mean it for real. She’s goddess material.”

      “That good, huh? So, it isn’t just a coincidence that this is the start of the summer break. Or, that you have almost two weeks on your hands when Rowan and your sister have forbidden you to work.”

      “Never entered my mind.”

      “Bull! You’ve thought of nothing but the project for the last year, and as a workaholic you don’t know how to switch off. Unless I miss my guess, you’re looking for a distraction.”

      He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t already having withdrawal symptoms, Brent knew him too well, so he laughed, then said, “Wait till you see her. Just remember, you can look but you can’t touch.”

      Brent ran his fingers through his sun-streaked brown hair, a habit that always made him look as if he’d just got out of bed, a woman’s bed, which was usually right. So Brent had no need to point a finger in his direction. “I’m surprised you can even find the energy to contemplate a relationship.”

      “Okay, so you were half-right. I’m not talking relationship, just a holiday fling.” He hadn’t spent the last year working his butt off to blow it all now. If the project he and Brent were working on paid off, it would mean a partnership for him and a leg up in the company for Brent.

      He caught a sigh building and pulled out before he could give breath to it. It was something he’d been aiming for since he was little more than a kid, to own part of something worthwhile. And as the son of a cop gone wrong there was no place to go but up. They hadn’t been much of a family for a lot of years, but he was determined not to let his sister or himself down.

      There were many ways of making money in the electronics industry, secrets to sell to the highest bidder, but that was the route his father had taken by dealing in drugs. Been forced to take, to Franc’s mind because of all the mouths he’d had to feed on a cop’s salary, and if he’d learned a lesson from his father’s suicide, it was he travels farthest who travels alone.

      Franc looked straight into the laughing derision in Brent’s eyes. “What if I said I need this?”

      “Tell me what you want me to do? Though I warn you, the last time I saw Randy, the only thought in his head seemed to be the quickest way to get Kathy out of her bra.”

      “How about you whisper a warning in his ear about the big guy downstairs looking for Kathy that could be her husband then show him the back way out through the kitchen?”

      “So all’s fair in love and war?”

      “I don’t think Randy’s much of a fighter, and you know me.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly, smiling as if he was about to tell a lie and wanted to lose the feeling. “I never fall in love.”

      “Just remember you owe me big-time for this one.”

      “Anything,” he conceded. And before Brent could make any demands, he was on his way back to Maria as if his life depended on it. Which should have made him take pause. In all his adult life he’d never depended on anyone but himself. He knew better.

      Everyone he’d ever loved had up and died on him.

      A huge shadow slid across the table blocking off the light. Maria’s heart bruised itself against her breastbone. She didn’t look up. Instead, she breathed deeply, sucked up her courage and sat higher in her chair, trying hard to ignore the cold pulse beating in her temple as loud as hail on a tin roof.

      Of all the foolhardy ideas in her life, tonight’s had to be the worst. This was going to be harder than she’d first imagined.

      Her hands shook as she lifted her gaze.

      Franc slid into the seat opposite. His hands were full of wineglasses and snacks, the fingers of one cupping two glasses while he slid a plate of finger food onto the table.

      “Thought you might be hungry.” His mouth looked grim. “I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but it looks like Randy went on someplace else. Could he have gone over to your house?”

      God, she hoped not!

      Thoughts of Randy peeking in her window were the last thing she wanted. Now they’d entered her mind, would they ever go away?

      “No, not my place.”

      For a heart-plummeting moment disappointment took her far away from the restaurant to a dark place inside her mind. When she’d calculated the risks of gate-crashing the party, Randy leaving early hadn’t featured as a worst-case scenario. How would she get through the holidays with this dread hanging over her?

      “Have a fresh glass of wine. These are nicely chilled.” He pushed one over to her, and then picked up a lobster patty. “Delicious. You should try one.”

      This was awkward. She was here under false pretenses, how could she accept his hospitality. “I really should go. You must have better things to do than sit here with me.”

      “None that would please me more than sitting opposite a beautiful woman. I’m only human. Tell me about yourself. Do you work locally?”

      “In the city, at Tech-Re-Search.”

      “I know the company, we have dealings with them. Is that how you met Randy?”

      “Yes.” How else had he latched onto her? Known her comings and goings?

      “So you work in the city in a research library and your name is Costello. Were you born in New Zealand?”

      “Of course.”

      His eyes flicked over her hair and face as he lifted the patty to his mouth and bit down. His teeth were white and even, and his face crinkled with laughter as his tongue captured a portion that broke off. He had an earthy confidence that exuded sexuality. Something reminded Maria of her long-ago visit to Italy, the way the men relished their food, wine and women.

      “My roots in Enzed probably go back as far as yours.”

      His eyes glittered. “You wanna bet on it?” She shook her head. “I guess I could raise you at least a generation, maybe two on one side, if there was anyone I could ask, but my family isn’t close-knit and the future interests me more than the past.”

      “Why is how many generations your family has been in New Zealand so important anyway, like we had some sort of Mayflower society?”

      “It’s a young country, how long ago your family arrived here is a sort of status thing.”

      She rolled her eyes at him even though she knew he was correct. “Well, my parents weren’t born here, and probably because of that, in my family everyone likes to know what the others are up to.”

      Except this latest venture of hers. Wasn’t a daughter obliged not to worry her parents? Maybe this was fate’s way of telling her to back off. For now at least.

      A stray drop of wine coated her lips as she chased it with her tongue. She raised her eyes and caught Franc’s gaze.

      “And what have you been up to, Maria?”

      The question brought her back to the present with a start. What had she done to deserve Randy Searle stalking her? She’d only managed to catch a glimpse of him those few times, but she’d felt him. Felt his eyes on her and it gave her the creeps. It was as if her life wasn’t her own anymore. Not that it had been anyone’s idea of exciting. Her life had reached a plateau early on, what with studying for her degree by correspondence until she started work in Auckland three years ago, she’d only ever left home to take her exams at Massey University.

      And if there had been little upswing in her social life since then it had been down to her own fastidiousness rather than a lack of opportunity. The friends she shared a house with were just the opposite. God, how she wanted to be like them, to be ordinary, to flirt, have on-and-off relationships.

      The only bump in the even tenor of her life was being told she’d