‘I’m sure she’ll cope,’ Zach soothed, repressing the cynical retort on the tip of his tongue. Discovering you were set to become wealthy beyond anyone’s wildest dreams was the sort of shock most people recovered from quite quickly.
‘It will be a culture shock. She’s about to become an heiress and the target of vicious tongues and gold-diggers. She’ll need to be protected...’
‘From what you say she seems pretty well able to protect herself,’ Zach inserted drily.
‘Oh, she’s clearly got spirit, but it takes more than spirit. She needs to be taught how things operate,’ her grandfather continued. ‘And I’m stuck in here, which is why I’m—’
Zach, who had listened with growing unease at the direction of this, cut in quickly. ‘I’d love to help but that sounds pretty much like a full-time job to me.’
His mentor gave a deep sigh that made Zach’s teeth clench; the smile that accompanied it was a nice blend of understanding and sadness. ‘And you have every right to refuse.’ Another sigh. ‘You owe me nothing. Please don’t run away with the idea I’m calling in a debt. I will discharge myself and—’
Zach lowered his shoulders. He knew when he was beaten.
‘You know, sometimes I forget it was me that saved your life.’
The first lesson you learnt on the streets was to look after number one, the second was walk, or preferably run, away from trouble. Zach’s problem was bullies. He hated them, and seeing those knife-wielding thugs surrounding the foolish old guy who was refusing to hand over his wallet had produced a red-mist moment that had led him to run towards danger and not away from it.
Zach believed nothing positive could be achieved by reflecting on the past, but if he had, his objective view would have been that there hadn’t been anything remotely brave about his actions. Though stupid had flashed through his head at the first cut that had slipped between his ribs.
He might have saved the older man’s life, but Alekis had given him a life and until this point asked for very little in return.
He watched, an expression of wry resignation twisting his lips, as the man’s air of weary defeat melted away in a beat of his damaged heart.
The elderly Greek’s smile oozed smug satisfaction. ‘If you’re sure?’
‘Don’t push it,’ Zach growled out, torn between exasperation that he had been so expertly manipulated and amusement.
‘It is important to control the flow of information when the news does leak. I know I can rely on you for that. The media will be all over her like a rash. We must be ready; she must be ready. Go away!’
The loud addition was directed to an unwary nurse who, to give her her due, stood her ground.
‘I’ll leave him to you. Good luck,’ Zach added as he rose to his feet. ‘You can email me the necessary,’ he added before the exhausted-looking patient could react to his intention. ‘Just give me her details and I’ll do the rest, and in the meantime you get some rest.’
* * *
Kat danced around her small office and punched the air in triumph, before controlling the fizz of excitement still bubbling in her veins enough to retrieve the letter that she had tossed in the air after she had read it.
She read it again now, anxious that she hadn’t misinterpreted it. That really would be awful. The tension that had slipped into her shoulders fell away as she came to the end.
It really did say what she’d thought, but what puckered her smooth brow into a slight frown was what it didn’t say. There was a time she was expected to be there, at the address of the law firm, but no clue as to who was looking forward to meeting her.
She shrugged. Presumably a representative of one of the individuals or businesses known for their philanthropy to whom she had pitched her appeal—or wasted her time with, as some of her less optimistic-minded colleagues and volunteers had put it. Fighting against the negativity, she’d pointed out that she wasn’t expecting any one person or organisation to step into the breach, but if she could persuade a handful to make some sort of donation it could mean a stay of execution for the refuge once the local authority funding was pulled the coming month.
Who knew? This could be the first of many.
There was a short tap on the door before Sue, with her nose stud, stuck her orange-streaked head around the door. ‘Oh, God!’ She sighed when she saw Kat’s face. ‘I know that look.’
‘What look?’
The older woman stepped inside the room and, after closing the door, said, ‘Your “campaign for a good cause” face.’
Kat blinked. ‘Do I have a...?’
‘Oh, you sure do, and I love—we all love—that you’re a fighter, but there comes a time...’ She sighed again, her skinny shoulders lifting before they fell. ‘You’ve got to be a realist, love,’ she told Kat earnestly. ‘This place...’ Her expansive gesture took in the small office with its cardboard-box system of filing—there always seemed to be something better to spend the limited resources on than office furniture. ‘It’s a lost cause. I’ve got an interview Monday. Just giving you the heads-up that I’ll need the morning off.’
Kat was unable to hide her shock; her face fell. ‘You’re looking for another job?’ If Sue, who was as upbeat as she was hard-working, had already given in... Am I the only one who hasn’t?
‘Too right I am, and I suggest you do too. There’s always bills to pay and in my case mouths to feed. I care about this place too, you know, Kat.’