Zac pulled onto his parents driveway, pausing a moment before he switched the engine off. He was in a different mood than he had been the last time he'd visited, the week before. He stared at the dash. He was happier than he'd ever been, but at the same time verging on miserable. His life felt like a complete mess. He had to get order back so that things could move forward. Since Abby, he'd lost it. Completely. Not in a bad way, of course, but it was time to sort his head out, make some concrete decisions and take action on them.
He wanted her badly. Seeing her boss ogling her was the last straw. He wanted Abby for real, whatever that meant. A full-on relationship, he guessed. When he saw her win the bidding, he wanted them to be sharing their workdays, their ups and downs, every moment. No subterfuge. It was all he could manage not to pick up the phone and call her again. But he knew he needed the time away. He needed the space to think straight—he'd got himself into a fine mess, and he had to figure out the best way to resolve it, without making her think he was a demented stalker who had deliberately misled her.
He'd been knocking a plan about. It was tentative and riddled with possible complications, but his instinct was driving him. At least he hoped it was instinct—and not insanity.
He had a lot to do before he flew out that evening. Top of the agenda was convincing his Mother he would deal with Monday's contract meeting at Robertson's. When he'd brought the property purchase documents over for her to sign, the day before, she'd been pleased with his level of involvement. She was also eager for the time to pass until the trial period came to an end. He gave a wry smile. No doubt because she couldn't wait to whisk the portfolio back into her own jurisdiction.
His gut feeling was that he had to be the one to deal with the contract meeting. How the hell he was going to handle it was yet to be decided. Abby's work on the portfolio had been outstanding. He didn't want to jeopardize that by throwing her a curve ball. He wanted to figure out the best approach for Abby. Telling her beforehand could result in chaos for everybody concerned. She had every right to walk out on both him and her boss. Not telling her at all went against his conscience. He wanted to do the right thing regarding Abby, but timing was crucial.
He'd suggested Paris on the spur of the moment, but even now he felt it was the right thing to do. He wanted to be somewhere with her that was away from their real lives and all their intricate complications. He wanted time with Abby, the woman. Not Abigail Douglas the investment manager who would find out exactly how entwined their lives were, in just a few days time. He had to know how she really felt before that moment, and whether she wanted more from their relationship as much as he did. If she did, and his instincts had been well founded, he'd find a way to make it happen. He flipped off his shades and got out of the car.
As he approached the terrace he caught the sound of music spilling out of the house. Dimitri, his father, was sitting on the loungers, his thick, silvering hair falling forward as he brooded over a newspaper. When he caught sight of his son his face lit. He dropped the paper and stood, his arms outstretched in greeting.
"What a surprise."
"It is. And it's good to find you at home. The restaurants are coping without you?" Zac quizzed as he embraced his father.
"Apparently so." His father shrugged it off, laughing. He was so much more amenable than his mother about passing the baton.
In the background the music changed to what sounded like tinkling waterfalls. Zac nodded towards the house. "What's that I hear?"
"Your mother." He rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Come and look, I guarantee you won't believe your eyes."
He was right. There on t
he hidden, private lawn at the side of the house his mother stood, wearing what looked like a karate suit, with her arms outstretched as if bathing in the music that came from the speaker at the window.
"What the hell is she doing?"
"Tai Chi."
Sure enough, she changed position.
"We'd better not disturb her. Come, we'll wait on the patio."
"I was talking to Joseph Sullivan the other night," Zac said, as they walked, "he mentioned that you were looking at a new bistro."
His dad glanced over his shoulder, as if he expected his wife to appear by his side at the mention of business. "It was tempting, but I want to stick to my side of the bargain. No more expansion."
Zac smiled. His father had tried everything with Adrianna. Agreeing to limit his own work was just one method.
"Were you at one of the restaurants?"
"I was, but I bumped into Joseph at a pub in the city, he was doing an extra shift there."
He shook his head as he sat down. "So I hear. I'm worried about him."
"Why not give him the extra shifts he wants?"
"I think he should be with his wife at this time. He doesn't have to worry about money, I told him so, but it seems to be part of his make up."
"He's only going to do the hours elsewhere, somewhere he won't get overtime rates, and he'd rather be working an extra shift in his own job. Why not ask him for a bit of extra work to prep the cellar supplies for the time he'll be away on paternal leave?"
"Not a bad idea, and I suppose you're right." His father looked at him with a curious glance. "You're good with people, Zac. I try too hard to make them what I want them to be."
"You can't force other people to live by your ideals. You can offer them options, but there has to be some level of compromise,"
"Yes, but we all try. It's part of being older and thinking you're wiser, at least that's my excuse." He gave a wry smile. "You seem to have hit the nail on the head though. I'm proud of you, son."