Page 44 of Midnight Enemy

“Oh yes, but not until midnight, right?”

“Normally, but you said you go to bed at seven, so…”

“Ten,” I say, laughing. “I’m not twelve years old.”

He chuckles again. “So you’ll come over?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“All right.”

He hesitates. Then he adds, “I look forward to it,” and ends the call.

I switch mine off and return it to its holder, then go over to the roses on the table and pick up the envelope and card. He wrote it himself. I brush my thumb over his name again, looking at the heart in the center.

Then I put it down and head off to get dressed.

*

In the afternoon, I help out in the retreat. It’s a non-profit organization and a registered charity, affiliated with the National Collective of Independent Women’s Refuges. It’s partially funded by the Ministry of Social Development, but relies mostly on donations, both monetary and of clothing and other items. We work with another refuge in the city, also set up by my father, and they run an office where people can drop off their unwanted stuff and a shop that sells everything on. Some of the members of the commune work in the shop and help with sorting, washing, and ironing the clothes. Ana does this a few days a week. But I prefer to stay in the commune and work in the retreat.

Today I help prepare lunch in the main refectory—pita breads loaded with lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes, grated carrot, olives, crumbled feta cheese, spinach, parsley, and an Italian dressing I make myself, along with some homemade coleslaw and air fryer French fries for whoever wants them.

Afterward, when everything’s washed and put away and the kids are back in the schoolroom, I take some of the women on a walk to the Waiora. We sit by the side of the pool, and I give them a guided meditation.

It’s quiet there, with no sign of any of Orson’s men, and I’m pleased about that, as a couple of the women are new to the retreat and very anxious and jumpy. For the first time, as we sit on the uneven ground around the water’s edge, I think about how nice it would be to have a gazebo like the one on the other side where Orson and I… no, not going to think about that. But it would be cool to have a small platform with comfortable outdoor bean bags to perch on, and maybe some screens we can pull around in case there are other people present.

Well, if we accept his offer to purchase the pool, he’s said he will pay for any developments, so maybe we should take him up on the offer. If I think about it from the angle that it will improve the experience for these women, it might help me justify accepting his help.

While we sit in silence, letting the autumn breeze drift across us, I try to clear my mind, but instead memories of the moment that I told him what we do at Kahukura creep into my mind. He teased me at first, suggesting we’d want fairy lights and ‘as much kale as you can eat’, but after I reacted angrily and explained we were actually a Women’s Refuge and highlighted the work we do at the retreat, he looked genuinely shocked. He didn’t know. That interests me. Had Spencer Cavendish not told his son about what we do there? I find that interesting.

Well, it’s three fifteen now, so I guess I should start thinking about making our way back. I want to get changed before I head over to see Orson. Only because I want to smarten myself up for our business meeting.

I don’t want to make myself look nice for him.

That doesn’t enter my head at all.

Chapter Ten

Orson

“Orson? Ms. Stone is in the foyer.”

“Thank you,” I say to Anne, who’s stuck her head around my office door.

“You want me to bring her through?”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll get her.”

She winks at me.

“Stop it,” I scold. “She’s here on business.”

“Of course she is.” She chuckles and disappears. Rolling my eyes, I get to my feet and pull on my suit jacket. I do up the buttons, glancing at my reflection in the window to make sure my hair looks okay. Briefly, I wonder what she thinks about the white flashes at my temples. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t inherited them from my father, but some women seem to like them.

Not that it matters—Scarlett is here on business today, and I have to focus on that. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, and it’s impossible not to think about when I lay with my head in her lap, and she taught me how to meditate and breathe from my belly. Shaking my head, I go out of the door and along the corridor to the foyer.

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