CHAPTER ELEVEN
Logan
I’m showered and dressed early, ready for work. “Morning, Jill,” I say to my housekeeper as I enter the kitchen. I’ve been back in Sydney for a few months now, and it feels good to be home.
“Morning, Mr. Cavanagh,” she practically sings with an ever-so-cheery smile. “Take a seat. Your breakfast is almost ready. I’ve put this morning’s paper on the table for you.”
In all the years she’s been working for me, I have yet to see her be anything but happy. Even Chris, my driver, has his off days, but Jill is a constant ray of sunshine. Why this woman never decided to settle down and have children of her own baffles me. I only have to observe the way she cares for me to see she was born to be a mother. But then again, knowing the grief my sister and I have given our own mum over the years, and the fact that Jill has never had children of her own, could be the answer to her endless supply of joyfulness.
I chuckle to myself at my observation as I take a seat and reach for the paper.
“Here’s your coffee, Mr. Cavanagh.”
“Thanks, Jill.”
Pulling out my phone, I text Chris.
I should be ready to leave in about twenty.
I get a quick reply.
Heading your way now.
Chris is leaning against the car when I exit the lift and cross the foyer of my building. I smile and nod at the doorman as he holds the door open for me.
“Morning, Chris.”
“Mr. Cavanagh,” he says, opening the back door of the limousine.
Laying my leather briefcase on the seat beside me, I open it and retrieve my laptop as Chris pulls into the traffic. I may as well get some work done on the commute. It’s a reasonably short distance from my penthouse apartment in Circular Quay, to my office in Darlinghurst, but the traffic is always horrendous this time of morning.
We’re stopped at a set of traffic lights alongside Hyde Park when I look up from my laptop and glance out the side window. A horde of people are bunched together on the sidewalk, waiting for the signal to turn green for them to cross the road. A leggy brunette in a pair of short shorts catches my eye as she jogs on the spot at the rear. Blondes were always more my thing, but my tastes have changed of late. I’d be lying if I said a certain beauty I met in Melbourne wasn’t the cause of that. None of the women I’ve dated since meeting her have been able to spark the same interest she did.
I still have occasional moments when I think of Brooke, and I wonder how things turned out for her. I hope she found happiness after leaving her husband. If nothing else, she deserves that.
Sitting forward in my seat my eyes follow the jogger as she passes in front of the car, and my heart skips a beat the moment she comes fully into view. I’d recognise that face anywhere. Before I even realise what I’m doing, I’m out of the car.
“What the hell are you doing?” Chris asks, winding down his window.
I flick my hand at him as I head around the front of the vehicle. “Drive around the corner and park, I won’t be long.”
The light is red as I run across the road, earning myself a few beeps from the cars. “Brooke.” She doesn’t stop, and for a moment, I think I’ve made a mistake. “Brooke,” I call out once more. My heart starts to thump against my chest the moment she looks over her shoulder.It’s her.If that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.
“Mr. Cavanagh.”
“Hey,” I say, sliding my hands into my pockets and trying to act casual. On the inside I’m feeling anything but. “Fancy running into you here.”
“I know, right? Small world.”
“How have you been?”
“Good, and you? Are you in Sydney on business?” she asks. For a moment I’m lost for words as I stand there drinking her in. The face that’s been haunting my dreams is so much more breathtaking in the flesh.
“No, I live here.”
“In Sydney?”
“Yes, I fly between here and Melbourne often, but Sydney is, and always will be, my home. You look amazing, by the way.”