Man About The House. Alison Kelly

Brett be brought up to speed with everything that had happened in her life since his visit six months ago at Christmas. One of his fears when he’d made the decision to move overseas was that the easy relationship he’d shared with his niece would become stilted by distance or just the inevitable changes of her moving from childhood to young adulthood. It was a relief to know it hadn’t happened, that Karessa could still be as open and spontaneous with him as she’d been at two, eight and ten.

      From the day she was born, in the absence of a father or grandfather, Brett had taken it upon himself to provide her with a male role model. Though he hadn’t entirely ruled out having his own kids, given his habit of falling for women with zero interest in becoming mothers he suspected his niece was going to be as close as he got to fatherhood. But hearing her gush about various boys and bands made it even more obvious his ‘little’ niece was rapidly growing up.

      In contrast to her mother, who, like him, was a green-eyed blonde, his niece had inherited her late grandfather’s russet hair and whisky eyes, but like all the McAlpines she was going to be tall—perhaps taller than her mother. At five foot ten, Meaghan was only six inches shorter than Brett, but already Karessa stood eye to eye with her. Or at least she would if she ever actually stood still instead of leaping about like a hyped-up thoroughbred filly.

      ‘And you know what’s really cool, Brett? Meggsie said I can work at the agency during the next school break!’

      Brett frowned at his sister. ‘You’re going to start her modelling?’

      ‘No, I am not.’ The reply was accompanied by a determined look at Karessa. ‘What I’m hoping to do is discourage such stupidity. So feel free to back me up on this, little brother.’

      Brett laughed at the abject plea for him to do just the opposite his niece shot at him. ‘Think you guys can at least give me a few days before expecting me to act as Solomon?’

      ‘Take as long as you like,’ Karessa said, grinning. ‘I’m not going to change my mind, no matter what you say, anyway.’

      ‘Now there’s a shock,’ he said dryly. ‘No need for a DNA test to prove you’re Meaghan’s daughter.’

      Just then the two women came to a halt beside a sparkling red, latest model BMW. There was one thing he hadn’t missed while he was away: his sister’s thrill-seeker driving style!

      ‘Of course, Karessa,’ he said, looking at the very crumpled rear passenger side fender, ‘we can always hope you inherited my driving skills. Hell, anyone’s save Demolition Donna’s, here.’

      ‘I know,’ his niece said solemnly. ‘That’s my nightly prayer.’

      ‘Oh, shut up, both of you!’ Meaghan’s rebuke was weakened by the hint of a reluctant smile. ‘It wasn’t my fault. I was pulling out of the mall parking lot into traffic and this young idiot slammed into the side of me.’

      ‘Late twenties. Body to die for. Major hunk,’ Karessa tossed over her shoulder as she slid into the back seat.

      ‘He was a reckless idiot!’ her mother insisted.

      ‘Meaghan, if you were pulling into traffic, then you were in the wrong,’ Brett said mildly, wondering what his chances were of talking his sister into letting him drive. ‘Unlock the trunk, will you? So I can load my luggage.’

      ‘You’re back in Australia now; it’s a boot, not a trunk. And how come if I was in the wrong I wasn’t charged, huh?’

      ‘You offered to fix them up with a couple of models?’ he teased.

      Karessa’s grinning face poked through the window. ‘He didn’t want to call the cops.’

      ‘Because he knew he was in the wrong!’ Meaghan retorted. ‘Besides, he was driving a four by four with bull bars. There was no damage to his car, so Mum and Joanna talked him into just taking my insurance details.’

      Brett closed the boot. ‘Joanna?’

      ‘Joanna Ford. She works for the agency.’

      Well that explained things, he concluded, too easily able to visualise a scene where his sister was loudly and vehemently denying all responsibility while one of the agency’s models was batting her baby blues and flaunting her figure in a bid to further confuse the other driver. The poor guy wouldn’t have stood a chance.

      The sight of his sister moving to the driver’s door quickly rerouted his concerns from her last unfortunate victim to trying to avoid meeting another today. ‘I’ll drive if you like.’

      Meaghan looked utterly perplexed by his offer. ‘You’ve spent the last four years in a country where they drive on the wrong side of the road... Why on earth would I want you to drive?’

      ‘Community consciousness?’

      ‘Oh, very droll. For your information this is only my second prang in fourteen months. And neither were my fault so just quit the wisecracks and get in the car.’

      She shook her head as she slid behind the wheel. ‘To think I’ve been looking forward to having you back, even knowing you’d be looking over my shoulder every day.’

      Brett strapped himself into the passenger seat as the engine was gunned to life with more gusto than was necessary or intended by the vehicle’s engineers. ‘I’m not going to be looking over your shoulder, Meaghan.’

      ‘Oh, sure, that’s what you say now... But I know you, Brett McAlpine. The only reason you’ve stayed a silent partner in the agency these last four years is because you’ve been on another continent. Once you get back in the office you aren’t going to be able to help yourself.’

      ‘I’m not going to be back in the office.’

      ‘What?’ Meaghan turned fully to look at him, bringing the steering wheel with her.

      ‘Watch out!’ he shouted, grabbing for the dashboard.

      His sister, typically, remained unperturbed at narrowly missing a signpost. ‘What do you mean, you won’t be coming into the office? You own half the business.’

      ‘Well, for a start you don’t need me.’ It was the truth. Meaghan’s driving might suck, but she’d proved herself to have a good head for business. ‘In the time I’ve been away you’ve managed it brilliantly,’ he said honestly.

      ‘Aw, but I’ve been looking forward to working with you, Brett,’ Karessa whined, pushing her head between the front seats to peer woefully at him. ‘I thought you’d let me be your assistant or something. If you’re not going to be there I’ll probably get stuck doing Meggsie’s dumb filing. Or something equally borr-ring.’

      ‘You won’t have time for “dumb filing”, daughter dear,’ Meaghan said, looking into the rearview minor. ‘You’re going to be too busy sharpening my pencils.’ Her eyes flicked to Brett. ‘Now, would you care to tell me what brought this on? When you said you were coming home to stay, I assumed we’d be running the business together. That was the plan when you left.’

      From Brett’s side of things it hadn’t been so much a plan as an expedient excuse. When he’d suggested he go fifty-fifty in the modelling agency five years ago, it had only been because he knew how desperately Meaghan wanted to buy the business and the precise limits of her finances. Had he merely offered to lend her the money his sister, being the most stubbornly proud person on God’s earth, would have refused his help point-blank, so he’d gone with the line that he was looking for something he could ‘come back to’ when he got bored with television production. He’d had no real desire to run a modelling agency back then, and even less now. The last thing he needed was facing a lot of Toni clones on a daily basis, who’d have no hesitation about fawning over ‘the boss’ if they thought it would help them get ahead.

      ‘Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve had some promising offers from the networks here, and there’s another venture I’m mulling over. By the way, has Mum given you any idea when she’ll be back?’