by SJ McCoy
A waiter arrived with a smile. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Davenport. Can I get you the usual?”
“Please, Tony.”
Tony returned a few minutes later and placed a fresh pineapple juice in front of him.
Reid raised an eyebrow.
Tony smiled. “Don’t worry. I heard that you checked in a little while ago, so I made some fresh for you.”
“Thanks.” Once Tony had gone, Reid let his gaze flit around the lobby. He wasn’t looking for her, just observing the patrons and staff. He knew the uniforms and what they designated. The front desk staff wore royal blue jackets with white shirts, the bellhops wore mustard yellow and those stupid little hats—it wasn’t the 1800s, for God’s sake. The concierge staff wore a cream-colored outfit with navy piping. Reid sipped his juice and thought about it. The girl who had come to collect the redhead had been minus navy piping. He frowned. That was a detail that had eluded him until now. Her piping had been pink. He smiled to himself, grateful that his thoughts didn’t appear in a bubble over his head for anyone to read. Her piping had been pink—and therefore, she worked at the spa. He didn’t frequent the place, but they touted their services aggressively, and their brochures always featured employees wearing cream suits with pink piping.
Great. So, was he going to make a visit to the spa? No. She would have an appointment and no doubt be in a private room somewhere. The appointment would last a minimum of an hour. Judging by her attire, she wouldn’t be there for multiple treatments. He’d guess one hour and no more. If he was right, she’d be out in forty minutes or so and he’d get a glimpse of her and … who knew? If he was wrong, then at least he’d have killed some time before he went to TJ’s.
Chapter Two
Tara watched the masseuse’s feet through the hole in the table. She was trying her hardest to relax, but it wasn’t working too well. The hot stones had been bliss—just as the name of this place promised—but she wasn’t big on having someone’s hands all over her. She closed her eyes and indulged in the thought that she wouldn’t mind having mystery man’s hands on her. She didn’t know what had come over her. She hadn’t had the time, energy, or interest to think about a man that way in years. She got a little too involved in some of the romance novels she edited, but book boyfriends were the only kind she’d had since she and Mark had divorced. If Owen’s father hadn’t been able to handle him, how on earth could she expect any other man to? No. Owen was the only guy in her life, and she expected that wouldn’t change for many years—if ever. She didn’t know how Owen would cope as he got older. Some people claimed that autistic kids could develop the life skills that would enable them to make their own way in the world. Tara wasn’t so sure. If Owen needed her until the day she died, then he would be her number one priority.
She let out a sigh as the masseuse’s palms worked their way up her spine. Since she was unlikely to have a real man in her life, there was no harm in indulging in a little fantasy—not when she’d just seen such a fantasy-inspiring guy. She closed her eyes again and pictured mystery man’s handsome face, and his green eyes focused on her.
Both she and the masseuse jumped when her cell phone started to ring.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t allow those in the treatment rooms.”
Tara was already scrambling up from the table, trying to cover herself with the towel as she went. “I know, but I have to have it. It’s on silent for everyone but my sister who’s minding my son.”
The masseuse didn’t look impressed. “You can’t take calls in here.”
“I have to.”
“Then I’m afraid this appointment—”
“What’s up, Nicole?”
“I’m really sorry. The girls took his dinosaur and …”
Tara could hear Owen freaking out in the background. “I’ll call a cab right now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Just come out and meet us. We’re almost there. All he wants is his momma. I thought it best to bring him to you.”
“Okay. I’ll get dressed and meet you out front.” Tara shrugged at the masseuse. “You’re right. This appointment is over.”
~ ~ ~
Reid sipped his drink and let his gaze flit around the lobby. It was full of the usual suspects. No sign of the redhead yet, but then he didn’t really expect there to be. His drink was almost gone, and he was starting to think that this was a bad idea. He wanted to catch a glimpse of her, but other than that, he didn’t know why he was here. If he wanted to see her, he’d have to order another drink which he didn’t want. He’d probably just watch her walk through the lobby, and that would be it. It wasn’t a logical way to spend his time. He looked up at the sound of a child shouting. It was a small boy coming in through the main entrance. He was holding the hand of a very flustered looking woman who was probably in her early thirties.
All heads had turned in the direction of the commotion. Reid blew out a sigh. He didn’t need to witness this. He felt bad for the young mother and for the child. He waved at Tony that he was leaving. It meant he’d miss the redhead if she came back through, but so be it. Cost-benefit exercise; since he had no plan to do anything more than catch a glimpse of her, the benefit didn’t outweigh the cost of witnessing a small child’s distress and the mother’s discomfort and embarrassment.
He hesitated on his way back to the elevator. Was he ready to give up on the chance of another sight of her? No. He was surprised at his answer, but no, he still had a little hope of seeing her. Perhaps if he paid a visit to the men’s room—which he needed to do anyway—the child would be gone, and he could order another drink and while away a little more time.
When he emerged from the men’s room, the shouts of the child could still be heard. He was sitting on one of the sofas behind the concierge desk—out of the way, as much as possible. The woman with him … wasn’t the one who’d brought him in. It was the redhead! What kind of irony was that? The small person who’d driven him away was now with the woman who’d drawn him out here. He blew out a sigh and approached the concierge desk. There was no one sitting there, and hopefully, they wouldn’t come scurrying out to attend to him too quickly.
The child was frantic. He was shouting and lashing out at the redhead. She seemed calm, if harried. She kept looking around as if she expected someone to come and ask them to leave. Reid was sure that someone would when they figured out that she wasn’t a guest. He felt bad for her. She was in an unenviable situation.
In general, he preferred to avoid unnecessary social contact, but he made certain exceptions; if he could help, then he’d step in. He had a feeling, judging by the child’s actions, that he might be able to help in this case. And since he’d been hoping for some form of social contact with the woman—whom he now assumed to be the mother—then what harm was there?
He patted his jacket pocket, glad he was still wearing it. He believed that what he had in there could be the solution.
The redhead looked up as he approached. Her eyes widened. She wasn’t afraid of him; it was recognition. He’d guess that he’d had a similar effect on her earlier to the one she’d had on him—perhaps that was more of a hope than a guess.
The child began to rock again and redoubled his screaming.
“It’s okay. Owen. They’ve gone. You have your dinosaur. Aunt Nicole gave it back to you, and she’s taken the girls home now. It’s just us. When you calm down, we can take a taxi and go home.”
The child screamed again.
Reid noted that the redhead wasn’t hugging him or making any attempt to touch or hold him. Which further confirmed his suspicion about what the problem might be.
“We can go home when you calm down. The driver won’t let us in a taxi while you’re like this.”
Reid made his way toward them. He’d seen and heard enough to believe he could help.
He didn’t get a chance to speak before the redhead turned to glare at him. “I’m sorry if this is inconvenient for you
. I apologize for disturbing your peace, but please don’t tell me how to handle him. He doesn’t need to be told off or smacked or whatever kind of firm approach you’re about to suggest. You don’t understand, so please don’t judge. We’ll be out of here sooner if you leave us alone.”
Reid braced himself against the force of her words. He didn’t back off, though. He just nodded and smiled. “I could be wrong, but I think I do understand. And I have a suggestion …”
Her eyes flashed with anger, but he continued to smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his iPod.
She gave him a puzzled look.
“Classical music. Baroque, to be precise.”
She looked at him as though he might be crazy. Maybe he was, but the child made the decision for them. He reached out for the iPod. Reid looked at the redhead, and she nodded.
Reid sat down beside the boy. “Do you want to hear this?” He held the earbuds toward him.
The kid nodded and took them, pushing them into his little ears.
Reid pressed play and hoped for the best. Both he and the redhead watched the kid. Reid half expected he might pull the earphones out and get back to screaming before the music had a chance to work its magic. He was relieved when the kid wriggled back and leaned his head against the sofa. After a few moments, he started to smile and then started to move to the music.
The redhead covered her mouth with her hand. He could see her eyes were glistening with tears.
“What’s he listening to?”
“Bach.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Classical music, baroque in particular, can soothe the mind by …” He shook his head. It didn’t matter. She probably didn’t want or need to know the why. People were like that. They didn’t care about the whys; they only wanted the benefits. He looked at the kid who was sitting still now, smiling as he moved his head in time to the melody.
“Thank you, so much. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just so used to people getting all angry and judgmental. They don’t understand.”
“No, they don’t,” agreed Reid.
“That sounds like the voice of experience.” She met his gaze. “Do you have an autistic child?”
“No. I don’t have kids.” She hadn’t asked how he understood, only if he had a child. That answer was all she needed.
She held his gaze for a moment longer, but the boy edged toward her and rested his head against her arm. “Oh, wow. He’s getting sleepy! That’s amazing. Thank you. It normally takes hours to calm him down from an episode like this. I need to call a cab and get us out of here.”
“The doorman can get you one. I’ll go and have a word with him, if you want?”
When she smiled, her big blue eyes shimmered with tears. “Thank you.”
He nodded.
“Do you want me to carry him out there?”
“Thanks, but he won’t let you touch him.”
Reid smiled and held his arms out to the kid. Big blue eyes, just like his mom’s, looked up at him and then the little guy reached up and climbed into Reid’s lap.
He got to his feet and smiled at the redhead who shook her head in disbelief. “Damn! I don’t know who you are or what you are, but I wish there were more of you in the world.”
Reid smiled. “Sorry. I’m a limited edition, one of a kind.”
She nodded. “Of course, you are.”
Reid wasn’t surprised to see that the doorman had a cab waiting for them when they reached the front doors.
She got in first, and he reluctantly handed the child to her. The little guy clung to him for a moment.
“Thank you again. I can’t thank you enough.”
He smiled and shrugged. “It was nothing.” It was certainly nothing like he’d expected or hoped for. But he knew that, for her, and for the kid, it had been huge.
“Where to, lady? I’m blocking everyone here.”
The redhead gave Reid a sad smile. “I guess this is goodbye.”
He nodded. He guessed it was, too, since he’d totally wasted the opportunity for it to be anything else. “Bach, Handel, Vivaldi, their music will all have that effect.”
“Where are we going, lady?” The cab driver was getting pissed.
“You’d better go.” Reid closed the cab door and watched it pull hurriedly out of the crowded drop-off lane. He made his way back inside and rode the elevator back up to his room. Once he was there, he washed his hands again, and while he dried them on the soft towel, he looked himself in the eye. “For a smart guy, that was a dumb move.”
He could have asked her name, her number, found a way to see her again, to get to know her—and to see little Owen again—he didn’t want to examine his reasoning behind that last one too closely. But it didn’t matter anyway. He hadn’t done a thing, other than watch them and the chance to get to know them, ride out of his life in the back of a cab—with his iPod. He smiled at that. Could that be viewed as a legitimate reason to track her down? His smile faded—only if he were an asshole. Who’d hunt a woman down to get an iPod back? Not him.
~ ~ ~
Tara fixed herself an iced coffee in the kitchen, focusing on every detail of the little ritual. It calmed her, and after the way this afternoon had worked out, she needed calming. At least they were home now. Owen was settled in his room working on his dinosaur puzzle. She went and leaned in his doorway. Her eyes and her heart filled up at the sight of him. He was sitting on the floor holding a puzzle piece, his little brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to work out where it went. He smiled as he slotted it into place and then sat back and began to sway. It wasn’t his upset kind of rocking. No. He was swaying to the music, which she couldn’t hear, but that still filled his little ears through the headphones of mystery man’s iPod.
She shook her head. Mystery man had been a real knight in shining armor coming to her rescue like that. She wished she hadn’t snarled at him before he’d had a chance to speak, but she was too used to people judging her when Owen went off like that. They thought he was misbehaving and weren’t afraid to tell her so. She’d heard too many times from too many strangers that he needed a firmer hand, that he should be punished, that she was a bad mother. Most of the time it didn’t bother her; people were ignorant and opinionated—if you let that get to you, then you didn’t stand any chance of being happy in life! It had bothered her when she’d believed mystery man was about to place himself amongst the ranks of the judgmental assholes, so she’d gone on the defensive—and she couldn’t have been more wrong. He’d been understanding; he’d calmed Owen; he’d saved her. She shook her head. He’d been a shining star in a very dark situation. But now the situation was behind her, and so was he. She sighed. Oh well.
The phone rang, and she went back to the kitchen to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s only me,” said Nicole. “Did you get him home all right? I’m so sorry I had to just leave you there with him, but with Steve and the kids in the car …”
“Don’t apologize! I’m just glad you brought him to me.”
“I know, but it can’t have been easy with him in the hotel lobby like that. I don’t know how you handle it. I wanted the floor to open and swallow me up just to get me away from all those snooty, judgy looks we were getting. I feel so bad that I abandoned you to face it by yourself.”
“Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.”
“I know. And I hate that for you. It’s so unfair.”
“It is, but like I said, I’m used to it.”
“Is he okay now?”
“He’s fine. He’s listening to Bach.”
“Huh? You mean, like classical music? Since when is he into that?”
Tara had to smile. “Since a handsome stranger came to our rescue in the lobby after you left. He was gorgeous, Nic. He came over to where we were sitting, and Owen freaking out didn’t faze him at all. He gave him his iPod, and it calmed him r
ight down.”
“Did you get his number?”
Tara laughed. “No. It wasn’t like that. He was just being kind. He seemed to understand Owen. He knew what to do, he knew the music would calm him down—and he was right. Owen even let him carry him out front. He put us in a cab, and that was it.”
“Owen liked him, and you didn’t get his number? Damn, girl!”
“If it’s any consolation, I kicked myself all the way home. I had the perfect excuse and everything. He let Owen leave with his iPod; I should have asked for his number so I could return it.”
Nicole blew out a big sigh. “You’re breaking my heart here, sis. You meet a guy, a guy who’s kind, who’s good to both you and Owen, and you let him slip through your fingers.”
“Yeah, well. It’s not like I could date him anyway. This afternoon was proof that I can’t leave Owen.”
“Don’t say that. I’m sorry the girls got his dinosaur, and it set him off. They weren’t being mean, they were just trying to play with him.”
“I know. I wasn’t complaining or criticizing. It’s just how it is. If he’s not with me, he’s not right. And it’s not fair to ask you to take him. You’ve got enough on your plate with the girls. They don’t understand. They just want to play.”
“I just hate it for you. You need to be able to go somewhere without him, sometimes. You can’t spend your entire life with him twenty-four-seven.”
“I can, and I do. It is what it is. I wouldn’t change it. He needs me.”
Nicole was quiet for a few moments.
“I know what you’re thinking, but no. He doesn’t need to go to one of those groups. He’s not ready.”
“He’s not, or you’re not?”
“Drop it, Nic. He’s not going, so us fighting about it is pointless.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I just have to bring it up every now and then, see if your thinking’s changed.”