Free Headstrong by Meg Maguire Page A

to our necks in bills and unpaid accounts for the pub. It’s all a bit effed up. Our mum kept it all quiet until after he passed. He was a good guy but he took on some investments he shouldn’t have, this nasty spiral of IOUs. We owe money all over the place and business is not good. Pub’s on the brink, and that’s all we’ve really got.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.” Libby thought for a moment. “How much money?”
    “About eighty grand. On top of the usual accounts.”
    “Yikes.”
    “Yeah, it’s a whopping great mess. Every week some supplier or other cuts us off. Our mum’s probably going to have to give up her house, and even then we’ll still be in the red. This nest could get mighty cozy, soon.” Colin glanced around the flat, his apprehension plain. “Trust me, Reece would never have taken that job if we weren’t hard up for the cash.”
    “I’ll bet.”
    Colin flipped the eggs. “Reece is cautious, to a fault. Always has been. I was as shocked as anybody when he said he was going to work for your dad. But he’s been gone a long time, and he was MIA for some rough shit that’s gone on around here. I think this is his way of making up for all that, or trying to. Doesn’t look like he’s feeling too keen for it now though. Failure’s not his strong suit. Don’t take it too personally if he’s hard on you. You wrecked his plans. Give him some time to lick his wounds.”
    Libby nodded, thinking. “Well if Reece doesn’t want my father’s gig, why don’t you do it? I’m trying to convince him to be my double agent. Document me on my own terms, for a generous bonus. He’s not really taking the bait. If he hates it so much, you should do it. Maybe Reece could recommend you as a replacement.”
    Colin laughed, his eyes squinting and his dimple reappearing. He turned to Libby and held out his tattooed arms, presenting himself as a package. “No father would hire me to stalk their daughter.”
    He had a point. “No, I guess not. And not my father, especially.”
    “Plus I’ve already got two jobs. And anyway—don’t pretend you’re not hoping my brother’ll be forced to keep sharing your company.”
    “Touché.”
     
     
    A few hours later, rain was still lashing the windows, the sky outside dark and dreary but the flat above the pub warm and comforting. Libby and Colin were sprawled at either end of the couch watching bad Australian soap operas and taking turns refreshing the coffee supply. Colin had his newspaper spread over his legs, but Libby could sense him getting sucked into the melodrama on-screen, interrupting on occasion to air amusing bits of commentary.
    Libby tore her eyes off the TV at the sound of footsteps mounting the stairs. She looked at the clock on the DVD player. Twelve-oh-eight. Her stomach gave a flutter she couldn’t identify. “That must be your girl.”
    “I should hope so.” Colin offered her a devious wiggle of his eyebrows.
    He rose and opened the door as a woman in her midthirties with mousy-brown hair and a tired smile reached the landing, lugging a car seat with a fat-faced, red-haired baby strapped inside. Both were soaked from the rain.
    She kissed Colin on the cheek and waved hello to Libby.
    “Libby, this my sister Annie. Annie, this is Libby, a friend of mine and Reece’s. And Reece’s future wife, if Mum has anything to say about it.”
    “Hey,” Libby said, smiling.
    “All right, Libby?” Annie offered a weary grin and set the car seat down. “Thanks, Col. Sorry I’m late. And sorry in advance—her nappies are toxic today. I don’t know what did it, but phew .”
    “Can’t wait. What time are you back?”
    She untangled herself from a diaper bag and handed it to Colin. “About four. Anything you need from in town?”
    “Nah. Enjoy your afternoon. Drive safe. And slow.”
    Annie waved again and departed.
    Colin put the bag down, unstrapped his niece and wobbled her in the air. “Ooh, you’re so pretty.”
    A smile quirked