Some stood in shadow, others in the glare of the fire or gentler glow of the streetlight. He picked out Rita, huddled in a blanket. Despite the people surrounding her, she appeared alone.
He stepped over the low picket fence at the front of her house and pushed through the crowd. He gripped her shoulders and turned her so he could see her in the light. “Hey, Rita. You okay?”
“Ivan.” Her voice was a husky thread.
It broke something in him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight enough to crush ribs. After a minute, he felt dampness against his chest. She was crying, her tears soaking his t shirt.
He looked at the fire captain standing nearby. “Do you need her, here?”
“No. If you can get her to leave, she doesn’t need to watch the walls fall in. You might want to think about looters, though.”
Hell. What sort of screwed up world was it that people would steal from someone who’d lost her home?
He knew exactly what sort of world it was; he’d built his business on the knowledge.
“Tony?” He kept an arm around Rita, pressing her into him. “Rita’s house has burned down. I need someone to stand guard against looters.” He gave the address and shoved the mobile back in his pocket. “One of my men will be here in a few minutes,” he told the fire captain. “He’ll watch the house.”
Then he stooped, picked up Rita and carried her to his car.
Inside the car, he could smell the smoke on both of them.
“My great-grandfather built the house. All my family memories are in it.”
The raw sound of her voice destroyed him. His hands clenched on the steering wheel. It was bad, but even worse when you knew Rita’s history.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He remembered her job interview, just over a year ago. She’d applied to be his secretary. He hadn’t cared that she had no background in security. He’d employed her for her calm efficiency. She’d filled in a personnel record and listed her doctor as next of kin. When he’d questioned it, she’d been carefully matter of fact.
“I’m an orphan. No parents, no nobody. It makes people uncomfortable, though, when I mention that I’ve no family. For the record, my doctor knows I’m listing her as my next of kin.”
He’d respected her privacy, but now the knowledge of how alone she was ate at him. When she said she’d lost everything in the fire, it was the literal truth. That house had been her last tie to family.
He reached out with one hand and covered her hands as they lay in her lap.
She inhaled shakily. “I can’t go to a hotel like this.”
“I know. It’s okay.” He stamped on the rage that she could imagine he’d dump her at a hotel. “I’m taking you home.”
Her hands twisted under his.
He squeezed. “Home, Rita. In the morning, we’ll sort something out. Tonight I want you somewhere safe.”
The dashboard clock said 1:30am.
Ivan’s home was an apartment in West Perth with views of the Swan River. Rita had been there before, delivering papers and once, accepting a delivery of his new dishwasher. He’d apologised for that one.
“I know it’s not what secretaries do.”
She’d smiled, because it was what friends do.
They caught the lift up together from the underground car park. She snuggled the borrowed blanket around her. For all that it was April and the weather still behaving as if summer were in full swing, she felt cold. Shock, probably. She’d only felt safe and warm when Ivan held her, but she couldn’t ask her boss to cuddle her.
“Would you like a drink? Brandy?” He opened the door to the apartment.
Well, alcohol was one way to warm up, but she sniffed and grimaced. “Could I have a shower?” She would go crazy if she had to keep smelling the smoke of all that she’d lost.
“Of course. The guest room is this way. There’s a shower and—” He stopped abruptly. She ran into his back. He turned quickly and caught her shoulders, steadying her. “Sorry. I just remembered. Mum
He stepped over the low picket fence at the front of her house and pushed through the crowd. He gripped her shoulders and turned her so he could see her in the light. “Hey, Rita. You okay?”
“Ivan.” Her voice was a husky thread.
It broke something in him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight enough to crush ribs. After a minute, he felt dampness against his chest. She was crying, her tears soaking his t shirt.
He looked at the fire captain standing nearby. “Do you need her, here?”
“No. If you can get her to leave, she doesn’t need to watch the walls fall in. You might want to think about looters, though.”
Hell. What sort of screwed up world was it that people would steal from someone who’d lost her home?
He knew exactly what sort of world it was; he’d built his business on the knowledge.
“Tony?” He kept an arm around Rita, pressing her into him. “Rita’s house has burned down. I need someone to stand guard against looters.” He gave the address and shoved the mobile back in his pocket. “One of my men will be here in a few minutes,” he told the fire captain. “He’ll watch the house.”
Then he stooped, picked up Rita and carried her to his car.
Inside the car, he could smell the smoke on both of them.
“My great-grandfather built the house. All my family memories are in it.”
The raw sound of her voice destroyed him. His hands clenched on the steering wheel. It was bad, but even worse when you knew Rita’s history.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He remembered her job interview, just over a year ago. She’d applied to be his secretary. He hadn’t cared that she had no background in security. He’d employed her for her calm efficiency. She’d filled in a personnel record and listed her doctor as next of kin. When he’d questioned it, she’d been carefully matter of fact.
“I’m an orphan. No parents, no nobody. It makes people uncomfortable, though, when I mention that I’ve no family. For the record, my doctor knows I’m listing her as my next of kin.”
He’d respected her privacy, but now the knowledge of how alone she was ate at him. When she said she’d lost everything in the fire, it was the literal truth. That house had been her last tie to family.
He reached out with one hand and covered her hands as they lay in her lap.
She inhaled shakily. “I can’t go to a hotel like this.”
“I know. It’s okay.” He stamped on the rage that she could imagine he’d dump her at a hotel. “I’m taking you home.”
Her hands twisted under his.
He squeezed. “Home, Rita. In the morning, we’ll sort something out. Tonight I want you somewhere safe.”
The dashboard clock said 1:30am.
Ivan’s home was an apartment in West Perth with views of the Swan River. Rita had been there before, delivering papers and once, accepting a delivery of his new dishwasher. He’d apologised for that one.
“I know it’s not what secretaries do.”
She’d smiled, because it was what friends do.
They caught the lift up together from the underground car park. She snuggled the borrowed blanket around her. For all that it was April and the weather still behaving as if summer were in full swing, she felt cold. Shock, probably. She’d only felt safe and warm when Ivan held her, but she couldn’t ask her boss to cuddle her.
“Would you like a drink? Brandy?” He opened the door to the apartment.
Well, alcohol was one way to warm up, but she sniffed and grimaced. “Could I have a shower?” She would go crazy if she had to keep smelling the smoke of all that she’d lost.
“Of course. The guest room is this way. There’s a shower and—” He stopped abruptly. She ran into his back. He turned quickly and caught her shoulders, steadying her. “Sorry. I just remembered. Mum
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