Leaning over now, he checked her bedside clock.
Seven o’clock. They’d slept for a couple of hours. After the strain of the past weeks he could hardly believe that stress was over. Now he felt rejuvenated. He could begin to forge ahead with his business plans.
And with his relationship with Renita. He studied her face as she lay sleeping. She had a quiet beauty. Yes, she was still overweight, but she was getting fit, and that was important to him. He smiled, thinking of her hiding in a trench coat. She’d get over that in time. He’d help her do that, too.
He touched her shoulder. She opened her eyes, looking straight into his. He curled his fingers around the back of her neck as he pressed a lingering kiss on her lips. “Sorry to wake you, but it’s getting late,” he said, easing back. “Tegan will be wondering where I am.”
Renita stretched, twisting languorously beneath the sheets. “I need to get up, too, and feed the animals. I’m surprised Lucy hasn’t barged in here already, demanding her kibble.”
Brett leaned over the side of the bed, grabbed his jeans and found his phone. “Hey, Tegan,” he said when she picked up. “Everything okay, sweetheart? I’m at Renita’s. We lost track of the time.” He winked at Renita. “Will do. I’ll be home soon.”
He hung up and slipped the phone back in his pocket. “She said to say hi to you. Funny, I thought for a while she was a little jealous of you.”
“Um, no, I think we’re good now. Must be because I introduced her to Oliver,” Renita said. “Give her my best.”
“Do you want to go out for dinner tomorrow night?” Brett pulled on his jeans. “It’ll be just us. Tegan’s going to stay with Amber for the weekend.”
Renita got up and slipped on a dressing gown. “Poppy, my assistant, is having a birthday party at the pub tomorrow. Do you want to do that instead?”
“Sure.” He pulled her into his embrace for another kiss. “Everything’s turning out great.”
“Yes,” she said, oddly subdued. Going to the dresser, she began brushing her hair in front of the mirror.
Brett watched her for a moment, puzzled, then shrugged and picked up his shirt. As he dressed, he examined the wall unit, which was cluttered with tattered hardback books, obviously treasured copies, plus a decorative box of some sort and a collection of African hair ornaments. And on the end of the shelf…Pluto? Brett picked up the yellow plastic toy and pressed the button that made the legs collapse.
“Is this the one I gave you? I’d forgotten all about it.” Pluto, her favorite cartoon character, because she loved dogs.
“I guess you think it’s weird that I kept it, huh?” Renita was watching him in the mirror.
“It’s nice.” His voice sounded odd and he cleared his throat. “I’ve given women diamond necklaces they’ve seemed to care less about.”
He met her gaze. Again, he was puzzled by her expression. She looked sad or something. Thoughtfully, he replaced the toy. “Is everything all right?”
“Fine.” Renita tugged on a strand of her hair. “How would I look as a blonde?”
“Not like the Renita I know.”
“That might be a good thing.”
“Don’t be silly.” He sat on the bed to put on his socks. “I could take Tegan in early and we could see a movie before the party.”
“Can’t. I’m going shopping.”
“Again? You went just last week.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. He’d been sensitized by Amber’s habits of overconsumption. “Forget it, it’s none of my business.”
“I need things. Underwear and stuff.”
“Oh, I get it—because you’ve lost weight. I noticed from your chart you’ve lost six inches.”
She spun around. “You read my chart?”
“Hey!” He winced. “It’s my job to keep track of clients’ progress.”
“Tegan said you never looked at the charts.”
Brett snorted. “She doesn’t know
everything,
much as she likes to think she does.”
Renita’s cheeks were bright red. Hell, did she think he cared that she’d lost two of those inches off her bust? Although if she’d been just any client he probably would have praised her for the loss. She was sensitive about her body image. Her being a client made everything trickier.
“When Tegan and I were in Chadstone I found a private medical clinic where they do cosmetic surgery,” Renita said.
“Oh, yeah?” Why was she telling him this?
She took a brochure off the dresser and handed it to him. “I’ve been thinking about cosmetic surgery for a while. I went back to the mall last week and had a consultation with the surgeon. He explained the options, the potential side effects. I had to do a psychological assessment, but then I signed the papers and paid a deposit. It’s all booked.”
“
What
is booked?”
“Breast implants.”
He stared, vaguely aware that his jaw had dropped. “Do I have hearing problems or have you gone insane?”
Hurt flashed in her eyes. Then she lifted her chin. “What’s wrong with implants?”
He flipped his palms up. “I don’t know where to begin. You have perfectly lovely breasts.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel good. Amber’s are huge. That’s the woman you
married.
”
“Not for her br—” He broke off. He’d been barely twenty, green as the turf he played on, his head turned by sudden fame and too much money. Influenced by his mates and surrounded by football groupies who were all some variation of Amber. Brett was ashamed to admit it, but back then the size of a girl’s breasts
had
factored into his choice of girlfriend.
“Ah.” Renita read his hesitation correctly.
“That was
then.
I divorced Amber, remember? Her breasts certainly weren’t enough to keep us together.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. Isn’t a guy allowed to grow up?”
“I’m not doing this for you,” Renita said. “It’s for me, to feel better about myself.”
“What’s wrong with simply being healthy and fit?”
“Nothing. But since I’ve lost weight my breasts have gotten smaller. They’re not in proportion to my hips.”
“You look fine. What is this obsession with being perfect? You’re beautiful and sexy just as you are.”
“The surgery is already booked. I’ve paid a deposit.” Her voice was firm.
“It’s up to you, of course. It’s your body.” Brett exhaled forcefully. He didn’t understand how she could be so strong in some ways, and yet so vulnerable. Had he somehow contributed to her insecurity?
She’d turned back to the mirror to study herself, a tiny frown drawing her eyebrows together. Taking hold of her shoulders, he kissed the back of her neck. “You look fabulous. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Meeting his gaze in the mirror, she smiled. But the crease between her brows was still there.
Tegan groaned. “So much for quality time.”
Brett took the call from Janet—they had more to discuss about the grand opening two weeks from today. He should be at the gym, but he’d barely seen Tegan all week.
Brett hung up. “Sorry about that. Now where were we?”
“I’ve got the bowline figured out.” She tossed down her ropes and stretched her bare legs, wriggling her toes in the sand. “Dad?”
“Hmm?” He brushed away a persistent fly and squinted at the diagram, the lines of which seemed to dance in the bright sunlight. It was hard to concentrate when he was thinking about membership deals and trial classes of Zumba and—
“Are we broke?”
Brett glanced up sharply. “Where’d you get that idea?”
“I’m not dumb, Dad, and I’m not a little kid anymore. I know it must cost a lot of money to buy a business and all that equipment.”
“I have a bank loan,” he reminded her.
“But you had to sell your Brownlow Medal.”
A boy ran past, kicking up sand. Brett hesitated. “I’ve paid for the equipment. Everything’s fine now.”
Tegan’s eyes, shaded beneath her billed cap, were huge. “You should have told me before you did it.”
“I…was ashamed,” he admitted, then had to look away. The admission was gut-wrenching.
“I don’t mind being poor.”
“We’re not poor!” He spoke more harshly than he intended.
She was quiet for a moment. “We could get a smaller house, farther from the beach.”
“What about the sailing club?”
She sighed. “Dad, I don’t
like
sailing.”
He blinked. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
“That’s because you don’t listen! I never wanted to join the sailing club.
You
wanted me to.” She was on her feet now, tugging down her shorts, digging her toes in the sand.
“I thought you were enjoying it.” Or had he wanted her to enjoy experiences he’d never had? He took a deep breath. “I’m listening now. What
do
you want to do?”
“Dance. I’d like to take lessons in modern dance.”
“Dance.” Brett tossed down the lengths of rope, pointless now.
Tegan leaned down and put her arms around his neck. She smelled of salt and sand. “Are you happy, Daddy? Was it worth it, selling your Brownlow Medal? Is the gym worth it?”
“It was worth it.” He squeezed her hand and rested his cheek against her sun-warmed forearm. “The Brownlow is only a piece of metal, in the end.”
If he kept telling himself that, one day he would believe it.
“Someday you can buy it back.”
Odd. Renita had said the same thing. He twisted his head to look at his daughter’s face. “I couldn’t even if I had the money. I don’t know who bought it.”
“Oh. Right.” Tegan pulled away from him and walked across the beach to the water, rubbing her arms as if she was cold, even though it was a sizzling hot day.
“Tegan?” Brett watched her wade into the water and stand there up to her knees, looking out across the bay. Teenagers were so moody….
The soles of his bare feet burned as he hopped across the hot sand to step gratefully into the cool water. Wrapping his arm around Tegan’s shoulders, he hugged her tightly to his side. A tear wove a silver streak down her sun-pinked cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“Maybe I should live with Mum,” she said with a hiccup. “Then you’d have more time to put into the gym. I know how important it is to you.”
Hell. Where had this come from? “
You’re
important to me.” He wiped away the tear with the pad of his thumb. “No more talk like that, you hear? I want you with me.”
She shrugged and sniffed, as if not quite convinced. Then she glanced down the beach toward the sailing club, where other teens were gathering to carry their dinghies into the water. “Do I have to take the sailing lesson? You could drive me into the city early.”
“That would leave Amy without a partner. Let’s stick to the original plan. After your lesson we’ll tell the instructor you won’t be back.” He gave her another hug and then a nudge. “Try not to crash the boat your last time out.”
She gave him a wan smile and ran off.
Brett left the beach and headed for the gym. He put in an hour sweating over the books, then flipped through the newspaper, scanning the columns for a mention of the sale of his Brownlow Medal. Renita and Tegan had put the idea into his head that someday he might be able to buy it back. He could only do that if he knew who’d bought it. Simon Toltz had promised to be discreet, but Brett understood how these things worked. When something big happened in the sports world there was always a leak to the media.
Aha! On page six a brief article reported the anonymous purchase of Brett O’Connor’s Brownlow Medal for nearly two hundred thousand dollars. That was it. No names.
“Anything interesting?” Janet asked, looking over his shoulder.
Brett started to fold the newspaper, then realized it was pointless. He stabbed a finger at the two-inch column. “I might as well tell you, since reporters will probably call the gym. I had to sell my Brownlow Medal to pay for the refurbishment.”
“No way.” Her eyes widened as she searched his face and realized he was serious. “I thought you had a bank loan.”
“It didn’t cover everything.”
“Brett, that’s terrible.” Janet squeezed his forearm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, no biggie.” He forced a smile. “The good news is it paid for the new equipment.” It felt satisfying to say that. He was a man again, in control of his life, not beholden to anyone.
“I appreciate your support,” he went on. “I felt like a jerk asking you and Mark to wait for your paychecks. The money from the sale of my medal went into my account yesterday afternoon, and I immediately transferred your pay. It’ll be available as of this morning.”
“You think?” Janet cocked her head skeptically. “With the speed of computers it
should
be instantaneous. But it takes the bank three days to process any transaction.”
“You should switch to the Community Bank,” Brett said. “I’ve never had such great service.”
“I
am
with the Community Bank.
Instantly?
” She huffed out a laugh. “I forgot you have connections. Renita must have pulled strings for you.”
“No,” he said. “Renita doesn’t pull strings for anyone. She goes strictly by the book.”
Janet frowned. “When did you make the sale?”
“Thursday evening.”
“And the money was in your account Friday morning? I think you’ll find she’s had a hand in this.”
Brett frowned. Maybe Renita had relaxed her principles for him. But the more he thought about it, the more it struck him that something bigger might be going on. It was strange that she’d been so certain he’d get his medal back one day. Why would she think that unless she had a role in the transaction?
Maybe she even knew who the buyer was.