now be focused totally on a seven-month-old baby. She doubted there would be a lot of time for going to see indie bands, or sharing a meal at a funky city café. There was a real likelihood it might be another two years until she saw him again.
She followed Wil down the pathway. Immediately the sister, Sharyn, opened the door. Georgia saw the resemblance to Angie. The older sister’s eyes were red-rimmed, her expression truculent as she glared first at Wil and then at her. The middle-aged social worker hovered nearby.
‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Georgia murmured to Sharyn. ‘I knew Angie.’ It wasn’t simply the polite thing to say, she meant every word. The shocking loss of a young woman, a mother, was genuine cause for sorrow and grief, no matter how she’d felt about her.
‘Another loss to come,’ Sharyn muttered, still glaring at Wil, who was scrupulously polite in the face of such obvious hostility.
The social worker, Maree, defused the situation and Georgia followed Wil into the house. Small shoes lined up in the entranceway, a stroller leaned against the wall, parked so they had to walk around it, tiny raincoats slung over a rack. A multi-child household. Georgia recognised the signs from her sisters’ houses.
The social worker ushered her and Wil into a family room, clean and tidy save for the toys scattered on the floor. A large playpen, of the old-fashioned wooden kind, was set up in the middle of the room.
‘Sharyn tells me little Nina just woke up from her nap, and is playing with her cousins,’ the social worker said, indicating the playpen.
Georgia’s gaze was drawn to the baby with a shock of dark hair and wearing a pink cotton romper suit. She sat on her bottom on a rug, opposite a little boy of about six who waved a fluffy toy rabbit in front of her. Another younger boy stood outside the playpen hanging on to the railing, calling encouragement. The baby laughed, an infectious gurgling kind of laugh that showed four tiny teeth, two top and two bottom. She waved her little arms around in delight as she made a lunge for the toy. Georgia smiled, a smile that came all the way from her heart.
Wil’s daughter. Angie’s child too. Little Nina had the best of both of them. Wil’s dark hair and eyes; Angie’s petite nose and heart-shaped face. Georgia’s heart spasmed. Poor little thing to have lost her mother. Poor Angie, to have lived long enough after the accident to know she wouldn’t survive to see her baby grow up. But Nina had a good man for a father. She’d won the genetic lottery there.
‘She’s adorable,’ Georgia murmured as she looked up to Wil, standing beside her.
At first, she didn’t know if he actually heard her. He was staring, transfixed, at his daughter. Emotions rippled across his face. Trepidation. Awe. A warmth that looked very much like pride. A Wil she’d never seen before.
‘Yes, she is,’ he said softly, his eyes not leaving the baby.
Sharyn approached the playpen, breaking the moment like a rock thrown violently into the gentle ripples of a pool. ‘Okay, Kieran, that’s enough playtime. Give Nina the bunny and take your brother outside to play.’
The boys obeyed without question. Georgia’s schoolteacher eye noted both little boys looked well cared for, in the way of children who were active and well nourished. They were tender and gentle with the baby. The older one gave his tiny cousin a kiss, hopped out of the playpen, took his little brother by the hand, and headed out of a sliding door to a grassed area outside.
Little Nina had turned at the sound of her aunt’s voice. Now she put up her arms to be picked up. Sharyn immediately swept her into her arms with a murmured endearment. She stood facing Wil. ‘You’re still determined to take her?’ she said. The baby rested comfortably on her hip.
‘She’s my daughter, Sharyn,’ he said. ‘We’ve gone through all this.’ Georgia could see a pulse throbbing at his temple that belied the calmness of his voice.
‘You didn’t even know you had a daughter,’ Sharyn said. ‘Angie hated you. Wanted to punish you by keeping Nina from you.’
Maree the social worker placed herself between Sharyn and Wil. ‘We’ve discussed this. Legal aspects aside, your sister’s dying wish was very clear. She wanted Nina to be in the custody of her father, Wil. I can understand your sadness at little Nina going but—’
‘Rightly or wrongly, all Angie would have been thinking of was Wil’s money and Nina having access to it,’ said Sharyn. ‘I told her that Nina should know her father but Angie wanted revenge on her ex for kicking her out. She wanted her secret kept until one day she could taunt him about Nina and blackmail him for more money in return for seeing his little girl.’
Georgia shuddered at the matter-of-fact tone of Sharyn’s voice as she discussed her sister’s warped motivation. Wil’s expression didn’t change but the words must have hurt. ‘That changes nothing,’ he said.
Sharyn hugged the baby closer to her. ‘Nina is happy here with us. I looked after her when her mother was at work. What makes you think you can look after a little girl?’ Georgia sensed the pain underneath the anger.
‘She’s my daughter and belongs with me,’ Wil repeated. ‘I can look after her very well.’
With Wil’s wealth he could give his daughter every advantage. So much more than the aunt could provide. Georgia appreciated that he didn’t rub in their difference in social status and income. Besides, she didn’t think that was what Wil meant—he meant the special love of a parent, the closest bond a child could have. Father trumped aunt. Wealthy father with doting grandparents, no doubt waiting in the wings, held all the cards.
‘You? A guy on your own? A guy who couldn’t stay married for even six months?’
Georgia cringed at Wil’s sharp intake of breath. ‘Yes,’ he said, obviously through gritted teeth.
‘It’s not right.’ Sharyn clutched the baby tighter, as if daring Wil to prise her out of her arms. ‘If you cared about her, you’d leave her with me. A little girl needs a mother...a woman in her life.’
‘She will have a woman in her life,’ said Wil. He moved closer to Georgia and put his arm around her. That was the first shock. Then came the second. ‘Georgia is my fiancée.’
What?
Georgia stiffened, went to protest. But Wil tightened his grip on her shoulder. She knew what he meant. Play along. Back in the day they’d sometimes pretended to be dating to deter an unwanted admirer at a party or out at a bar. Each other’s wing person. They’d have a good laugh about it afterwards.
Georgia didn’t feel like laughing now. ‘Uh, yes.’ She forced a smile. This wasn’t a game.
‘Congratulations on your engagement,’ said the social worker, looking very pleased.
‘Th-thank you,’ said Georgia, not able to meet her eye, furious with Wil for putting her on the spot.
‘She’s an elementary schoolteacher and knows all about little kids,’ Wil added. He squeezed Georgia’s shoulder again in an unmistakable prompt.
‘Uh...yes, I do,’ she said. ‘And babies. I have five nieces and nephews and have looked after them all. Ask me anything you want about babies.’
Sharyn looked her up and down as if she were something loathsome. ‘Angie told me all about Georgia. The best friend she thought her husband fancied. Looks like she was right not to trust you, if you’re now engaged.’
Georgia gasped at the accusation. Went to deny it. Bit her tongue. This wasn’t real. She was, in truth, just his friend. She had nothing to feel guilty about.
‘Not true, Sharyn,’ Wil said. ‘Georgia was indeed just a friend then.’
Irrationally—because that was all true—his dismissal of her as a woman his wife had had no cause to fear hurt. Georgia schooled herself not to betray just how much it hurt. She’d never tried to be more than just