Zac sat.
‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’
If he wasn’t feeling so strung out, he might have smiled at this old-fashioned response from his conservative and over-conscientious PA. She was dressed in one of her customary businesslike suits. Her white blouse was neatly buttoned and tucked in, and there wasn’t a strand of her light brown hair out of place. Good old, reliable Chloe.
He was so relieved to see her tonight. He’d been desperate to get away from the giggling Daisy and, by contrast, cool, collected Chloe was a reassuring and comforting sight.
‘I don’t need tea,’ he said. ‘I’d just like to get these flights sorted, and I could really do with your assistance in London.’
‘I assume this is all because of the phone call...from the hospital.’
‘Yes.’ Zac swallowed, trying to clear the sharp, persistent pain that seemed to have lodged in his throat. ‘I’m afraid it wasn’t good news,’ he said with quiet resignation. ‘It was bad. Really bad. The worst.’
‘Oh, no... I’m so sorry.’
Sorry... Zac was sorrier than he’d ever thought possible. He looked away from the sympathy in Chloe’s soft brown eyes. Then, staring bleakly at a spot on the grey office carpet, he told her the rest of his news...
When he finished, Chloe took ages to respond. ‘I...I don’t know what to say,’ she said at last. ‘That’s so terrible. I...I never realised you had a sister.’
‘Yeah...well...’ He couldn’t bring himself to admit his estrangement from Liv, or that he hadn’t known about the baby, that Liv had never even told him she was pregnant, that she almost hadn’t told him about going to England.
How could he admit to this prim and conscientious cliché of a secretary that his reckless sister’s pregnancy was just another of the many secrets she’d hidden from him?
‘I guess you’ll need help...with the baby girl...if they can’t find her father,’ Chloe suggested awkwardly.
‘Yes. I’ll be it’s...I mean...her guardian.’ He knew this, because the one thing he’d insisted on after Liv’s overdose was that she made a will. He’d hoped that a measure of reality would shake some sense into her. ‘I couldn’t possibly manage on my own.’
Babies had never registered on Zac’s radar. He’d always supposed they were a dim possibility in his far distant future...when he eventually settled down and chose a wife and all that went with a wife... But, even though he was a godfather twice over, he’d never actually held a baby. There had always been plenty of women with willing arms and he’d been more than happy to buy expensive gifts and the best champagne to wet the baby’s head and then stay well in the background...
‘I’m sure we can find someone.’ Chloe was busy at her computer screen, scrolling through some kind of spreadsheet.
‘Find someone?’ Zac asked, frowning. ‘How do you mean? What kind of someone?’ He didn’t need to find someone. He had Chloe.
She turned back to him with a smile that was almost sympathetic. ‘This is a list of your personal female contacts.’
‘You have them on a spreadsheet?’
‘Well, yes. How else do you think I manage to—?’
‘All right, all right.’ He gave an impatient wave of his hand. He knew Chloe was a marvel at managing his female friends—sending them the appropriate invitations or flowers, birthday or Christmas presents, get well cards, even, at times, offering excuses on his behalf...but he’d never given any thought to how she kept track of them.
‘What about Marissa Johnson?’ Chloe said now. ‘She always struck me as sensible.’
‘No,’ Zac said curtly, remembering the awkward way he and Marissa Johnson had broken up. He jumped to his feet, seized by a fit of restless impatience. ‘Look, there’s no point in looking at that list. I don’t want any of them. I want you, Chloe. We’ve worked together for three years now and I know you’d be perfect.’
To his surprise her cheeks went a deep shade of pink—a becoming shade of pink that unsettled him.
‘I don’t know very much about babies,’ she said.
‘Really?’ Zac frowned at her. She was female, after all. ‘But you know enough, don’t you? You know how to put on a nappy. And when it comes to bottles and that sort of thing, you can follow instructions. It’s just for a few days, Chloe. There’s a remote possibility that I might have to bring this child home. I’ll need help, just till I have everything sorted.’
Not that he had any idea how this problem could be sorted. At the moment he was still too shocked. Too sad. He didn’t want to think about a little new life when Liv was—
‘I’m sorry,’ Chloe said quickly. ‘I’d like to help, but I’m not really free to rush overseas at the drop of a hat. Not at this time of year. I have my parents to consider...’
‘Your parents?’ Zac frowned again. Why would a woman approaching thirty be so concerned about her parents? Then again, he knew he was out of touch with the whole family thing. His own parents had died when he was eighteen and he’d been managing without them for almost seventeen years.
But now there was a baby...a niece...another little girl who was his responsibility. A slug of pain caught him mid-chest. History was repeating itself in the most macabre way.
‘It’s Christmas,’ Chloe said next, as if that explained everything. She looked up at the surprisingly attractive decorations she’d arranged about the office. ‘Would you like me to look into hiring a nanny?’
Zac let out a weary sigh. ‘The last thing I need now is to start interviewing nannies.’
‘I don’t mind doing the interviews.’
‘No,’ he snapped. ‘We don’t have time.’
Besides, for this delicate operation, he needed someone he already knew, a woman who was loyal and trustworthy, and sensible and efficient—and a woman who wouldn’t distract him with sex.
Chloe Meadows ticked every box.
CHLOE COULDN’T QUITE believe it was actually happening. Here she was in the executive lounge of Brisbane International Airport, enjoying coffee and croissants with her boss, with a boarding pass for a flight to London in her handbag, a grey winter jacket and rosy pink scarf folded on the seat beside her, and a neatly packed carry-on bag at her feet.
She still wasn’t quite sure how Zac had convinced her to do this, but from the moment he’d learned she had an up-to-date passport the pressure had begun. He’d argued that the company was winding down for the Christmas break anyway and, thanks to her superb organisational skills, the office Christmas party could run brilliantly without her.
He’d brushed aside her concerns that she knew very little about babies. After all, the child’s father might yet be found.
To Chloe’s amazement, even her very valid concerns about her parents had been duly considered by her boss and then swiftly and satisfactorily smoothed away.
She’d been stunned when he’d asked last night if he could visit her parents. She’d tried to protest. ‘Sorry, no. Mum and Dad will be in bed already.’
‘Why don’t you ring them to check?’ he’d said confidently.
To Chloe’s surprise, her mother and father were still up, watching Carols in the Cathedral on TV, and, even