“Well, I guess I’d better get going. See ya.” She lifted her hand and steered her cart away, putting as many aisles between them as possible.
Fifteen minutes later, Annie headed to the checkout lanes. She surveyed all the registers to make sure Tyler wasn’t at any of them and then loaded her groceries onto the conveyer belt in record time. Just when she thought she would escape the store without encountering him again, he pushed his cart into the lane next to hers.
As if it weren’t mortifying enough that he saw her no-frills shopping order, the cashier then humiliated her further and held up a box that failed to scan and shouted across the store, “Charlie! I need a price on this laxative.”
Annie squashed the urge to shove a potato in the woman’s mouth. Blessedly, despite Tyler’s smirk, he had the good manners to pretend he was too busy unloading his groceries to notice her wishing the floor would swallow her.
To make matters worse, Noah glanced up and asked in wide-eyed innocence, “Mom, what’s a laxative?”
~*~
Tyler had all he could do not to split a gut laughing at the please-somebody-shoot-me look on Annie’s face. After paying his bill, he herded Mandy out to the parking lot and found Noah’s adorable mother unlocking her car only two spaces away from his vehicle.
While Annie made sure Noah buckled his seatbelt, Tyler loaded her shopping bags into her trunk.
“Look, you really don’t need to do that.” She snatched a bag from him. “After six years of cleaning houses for a living, I should be strong enough to—”
“You’re a housekeeper?” He stared at her, unable to believe his incredible luck. Annie seemed to be a sweet, loving, and devoted mother—exactly the kind of role model and caregiver he needed for Mandy.
“It’s an honest living,” Annie responded, a defensive note in her voice.
“I wasn’t implying it isn’t. I simply need someone to take care of mine. My cleaning lady’s husband had a stroke, so she was forced to quit. My sister kept the place straight, but our house hasn’t really been cleaned in almost two weeks.”
Shaking her head, Annie retreated a step. “I don’t think I can.”
“Why? If your schedule is the problem, I can be flexible.” He really needed full-time help, but if she would agree to work from three to six-thirty each afternoon, he could make do. He lifted the last bulging sack into the trunk and slammed it. The more time he spent with her, the better he liked her.
“I don’t think it would work out.” She shoved the shopping basket into the nearby cart corral while Mandy and Noah pressed their noses against opposite sides of the car window and made monkey faces at each other.
“Well, could you at least take care of it for me this week until I hire someone else?” Tyler persisted. “The place is starting to resemble my college dorm. I don’t have the time between my practice and taking care of Mandy to clean it myself.”
“Practice? This morning you suggested therapy for my dog. Are you a shrink?”
“No, a lawyer.”
“Oh, really?” She crossed her arms over her chest, a hint of amusement twisting her lips. “You promised me you weren’t sleazy. I thought that was a requirement of your profession.”
“Touché. I consider myself a contradiction of that stereotype. It’s not well publicized, but there are a few ethical lawyers in the world.”
“I’m sure there are. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist teasing you.” She raised her voice over the kids squealing at each other through the glass. “What kind of lawyer are you? Besides one with principles, that is.”
“Business and tax law. I specialize in mergers and acquisitions.”
“So anything involving large amounts of cash?”
“I suppose that’s one way of putting it. My primary client is sort of a value investor, venture capitalist, and corporate junkman all rolled up in one. He puts his money wherever it’ll make him the most.”
“A corporate junkman?”
“Ben buys undervalued companies in financial distress. It’s a little like picking up an antique table at a garage sale, waxing it, and reselling it for twice as much at the flea market.”
The coattail investors in the financial community followed Ben’s or—as the world knew him—BJ Elliott’s business dealings nearly as closely as they did Warren Buffet’s portfolio.
She nodded, adjusting her purse’s strap on her shoulder. “I guess the knack is deciding which company just needs a coat of wax. Your client sounds a lot like the hero in Pretty Woman.”
“That’s about right.”
“Which leaves you”—she gently poked her key at his chest—“playing the legal creep who backhanded Julia Roberts.”
“Maybe that explains why I hate that movie.” He smiled, forcing his gaze back to her face. “I swear I’m a lot more like the hero of that story.”
Early in his career, Tyler had questioned how ethical it was to profit from a company’s difficulties. Then Ben had shown him the bigger picture. If they didn’t buy insolvent businesses, many more people—like the hard-working employees—would be hurt far worse than the stockholders and CEO’s with golden parachutes.
“So you’re a workaholic.”
Guilt swelled in his chest at her astute appraisal of him. “Maybe somewhat, but I’m trying to change.”
Ben’s legal work had become more than a full-time job, for which Tyler employed several paralegals and a junior lawyer to assist him. Before Erica died, he’d planned to expand his firm. However, with Mandy needing more of his time, he’d decided to simply stop taking any new clients for the present.
He pointed the keyless remote toward his car and popped his trunk. “At the moment, I’m divesting a large corporation, so I could really use your help.” When she hesitated answering, he resorted to begging. “Pleease. My sister’s coming on Sunday to inspect.”
“You mean with white gloves and all?”
“No, nothing like that.” He smiled. “Sabrina won’t admit it, but I know the whole reason she’s visiting so soon is to check up on me.”
“Big sisters can be a pain, huh?”
“Actually, she’s five years younger. But since Erica died, Sabrina seems to think she has to take care of us. I didn’t tell her the cleaning lady quit because I knew she would insist on scrubbing the place before she went home. The last thing I want is her worrying about us.”
~*~
Annie stared up at Tyler as he flashed his dimples at her again. Placing herself in situations that made her wish for things she couldn’t have only made her discontent. And a guy in Tyler’s position certainly wasn’t going to get seriously involved with someone who cleaned homes and only had a tenth grade education.
She glanced at her son in her rusty car and sighed. She really could use the money. “Okay.” She drew in a couple of erratic breaths. “But only for this week. I haven’t seen the house, so I can’t quote a price. I have other clients in the mornings, so I’ll have to do most of it after school, which will mean bringing Noah along. With him there, it may take two days.”
“That’s okay. We live in the subdivision right across the street from your house. Charge me whatever you feel is fair. I really appreciate you squeezing us in.” He swept his hand toward his car. “Why don’t you two follow us to the Dairy Maid for a sundae? My treat.”
Redemption’s most popular ice cream stand boasted a huge playground that Noah loved and didn’t get to visit very often. It tortured her to deprive him, but....“Won’t the frozen food I saw in your grocery cart melt?”
“An acceptable loss versus the potential gain.”
“What you’re suggesting sounds an awful lot like a date. And besides, I was planning to watch the Phillies game. I know we probably don’t have chance of making the series again this year. . .”
“Wow. A woman who cleans and likes baseball, too. It doesn’t get better than that.”
“Loves baseball,” she corrected. “When I was a kid, my dad took me to at leas
t two games every season.”
“Ahhh, now I know your weakness. Phillies tickets.” He winked. “I’ll bring a spare house key to the school tomorrow morning when I drop Mandy off. I’ll see you there.” After opening Annie’s door for her, he scooped up his daughter and pushed his grocery cart to his car.
Annie shifted her vehicle into reverse and backed out of the parking space. As Tyler leaned over his trunk to load his bags, she slammed on the brakes. Never before in her life had she felt compelled to stare at a man’s rear. Although, maybe that was because she’d never seen one quite so perfect before. His broad back tapered down to slim hips with just the right amount of padding filling out the seat of his snug, butt-hugging jeans.
He slammed his trunk and turned. A smug I-know-what-you-were-staring-at smile curled his mouth when he saw her still sitting in the lot gawking at him. She stomped on the accelerator and winced as the engine sputtered on the way past him.
No guy had ever made her laugh or turned her knees to mush the way he did. Of course, most fellows lost interest in her a split second after they discovered she had a child. Her job and caring for Noah didn’t give her much opportunity to meet single men. And most guys her age had zero interest in getting married, much less becoming a father.
Jenn and some of the other women in town occasionally invited Annie to go out with them. But she had enough trouble squeezing Mitch’s dog food into her budget. If she was going to blow money on babysitters for anything, she would spend it on going to school. Then maybe she could get a decent job working in an office.
Not that she would mind having a little fun for a change. As a single parent, adult company was in short supply. Since her mother died, Annie had fantasized more and more about how nice it would be to have a boyfriend to ask how her day was and hold her while they watched television in the evenings. She’d give anything to finally know what it felt like to have a man make love to her.
She’d listened to all the talk radio shows on sex, read a library full of steamy romances, and had even given birth. But the maggot who’d invited her to a party and slipped her a date-rape drug had left her with no more sexual experience than a virgin.
Her semi-pure status embarrassed her nearly as much as her inability to ride a two-wheeler as a child had. She’d simply had no opportunity to engage in that activity either.
A hot flush swept over her as she recalled the way Tyler’s electric green gaze made her body come alive. After the way she’d lapped up his attention like a cat discovering a gallon of spilled cream, he’d probably laugh his handsome heinie off if anyone told him she was a twenty-three-year-old freak.
She needed to have her head examined for agreeing to clean for Mr. Häagen-Dazs Fitzpatrick. No way would she let some man—no matter how sweet or charming—tempt her into making another mistake that would botch up her life....or her son’s.
~*~
A half-hour later, Annie groaned as she unpacked the groceries and discovered a large package of M&M’s. She scanned the receipt to check if she’d paid for them. “Noah,” she called, “I thought you put these back?”
Her son poked his head into their closet-sized kitchen, and his sapphire eyes rounded when he spied the coveted candy. “I did, Mommy. Honest.”
Tyler’s eagerness to load her trunk suddenly made sense. She hugged her son. “I believe you, Pumpkin. I think Mandy’s dad must’ve put them in our bag by accident.”
The man may have thought he was being nice, but all he’d done was rub her nose in how little she could afford to give her son. Since her dad’s death eight years ago, she’d learned to be content without the extras, but Noah’s longing looks made it a lot harder and left her feeling guiltier than ever for selfishly rejecting the offers of adoption when he was born.
Even though Redemption’s school could compete with the best in Pennsylvania, she sometimes wondered how fair it was to raise her son in such an affluent community.
Regrettably, they were stuck there. Her mother had passed away right before Noah turned four. After paying her mom’s medical and funeral bills, all that’d been left of the estate was the two-bedroom house her mother had bought after Annie’s dad was killed.
If Annie sold the dilapidated cottage to move to a town more in line with her economic status, she’d get so little she’d need a loan to buy a storage shed. With her meager income, she’d have an easier time qualifying for welfare than a mortgage.
Noah tugged on her blouse. “Can I have some M&M’s?”
“No. I’m sorry, Pumpkin, they don’t belong to us. I’ll find something else for your snack.” She didn’t like denying her child such a simple treat, but the last thing she wanted or needed was Tyler Fitzpatrick’s pity or charity. Even if he did have gorgeous buns.
~*~
“How’re you making out now that your sister’s gone?”
Tyler cringed as Erica’s best friend, Paula Larson, grabbed his shoulder the next morning and turned him to face her and the schoolyard.
“Fine, Paula, how are you?” He brushed Mandy’s forehead with a kiss before she ran off to join the other children chasing each other around the school’s lawn.
“I suppose you heard Greg and I split up. I’m hoping you’ll represent me in our divorce.”
“You know I don’t practice family law.”
The redhead pouted, batting her lashes over her arctic blue eyes. “Couldn’t you make an exception for me? I’d be very grateful.”
He could imagine how she hoped to express her gratitude. “I’m sorry, Paula, you need someone who specializes in divorces.”
Even if he practiced family law, he wouldn’t take the spoiled woman’s case. Greg was a decent, hardworking mechanic, so Tyler wouldn’t relish being professionally obligated to go for the man’s jugular. Not to mention opposing Greg in court would undoubtedly blacken Tyler’s name within the community. Greg’s dad, Pete Larson, had been Redemption’s mayor for the last twenty years, and his mom, Carol, was head of the high school’s history department.
“Could you at least recommend someone good?” Paula asked.
“Sure. My assistant will call you with a name. But I think you should try counseling first. If you’ll excuse me,”—he jerked his head toward Noah sprinting down the sidewalk followed by his mother—“I’m supposed to meet Annie to give her my house key.”
Paula’s coral-coated upper lip curled. “Please don’t tell me you hired that trailer trash.”
Tyler froze and turned back to her. “Do you know of some reason I shouldn’t hire her?”
“I suppose she’s honest enough.” Paula’s tone and disgusted expression clearly suggested she had doubt. “She cleans for my neighbors, the Dentons. Although, I doubt she will after Ginny hears Annie’s been, uhhh....providing extra service to her clients’ husbands.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I heard it straight from Sheila Cooper herself.”
Right. The second biggest gossip in town.
“She caught Annie and her husband in the bathroom. Ron insisted he didn’t see Annie on her knees scrubbing the floor when he went in to use the facilities, but everyone knows how much he cheats on—”
“Stop.” Tyler held up a hand to silence her. “If you don’t quit repeating nasty rumors, you may need a lawyer to defend you in a defamation of character suit in addition to your divorce.”
“I’m not worried. Annie wouldn’t even know what the word defamation means.” Paula ran one of her manicured talons down his silk tie. “You know, a prominent man like you needs a woman with class. You don’t have to settle for a gauche little nobody like her when I’m available.”
“I’m sorry, Paula,” he apologized, struggling to suppress a smirk. “I wasn’t aware you’d begun cleaning other people’s homes. If I’d known, I certainly would’ve called you instead.”
Her silent, open mouth suggested he’d rendered her speechless.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He strode away from the cat
ty woman and met Annie and her son. “Good morning, you two.”
“Hi, Mr. Fit’patrick.” Noah waved and skipped away off toward the playground.
Annie shoved a bright yellow bag at his chest, forcing a whoosh of air from his lungs. “Somehow your M&M’s accidentally ended up in one of my grocery bags last night.”
“You know that was no accident. I put them there.”
“Yes, but why?” She lifted her chin. “You heard my son. He hates them.”
Like hell. Her kid wanted those M&M’s almost as much as Tyler wanted a date with Annie. He recognized her son’s MO, because Tyler had also spent his entire childhood making disparaging remarks about things he had no chance of having.
Watching Noah had been like looking at himself as a kid. He saw the same yearning in her child’s eyes and the same faded cast-off clothes. “Yes, I know. Your son hates M&M’s like Aesop’s fox despised grapes.”
Her eyebrows knitted in a confused twist. “What?”
“The story of The Fox and the Grapes is where the expression sour grapes came from. You must’ve read some of Aesop’s fables in school.”
“Uhhh—right, Aesop—The Tortoise and the Hare,” she murmured absently, gnawing on her lip. “For your future reference, Mr. Fitzpatrick, my son and I don’t need your charity.”
The pain in her eyes reminded him of the beating his pride had taken as a kid whenever someone pointed out he couldn’t afford something.
“Charity?” He tossed the bag back at her. “I bought that candy as a thank-you gift for rescuing me yesterday with Mandy’s hair.”
“Oh.” Her mouth snapped shut. “I’m sorry. That was very nice of you. Thank you.”
Extinguishing her tirade left him with a twinge of regret. She was beautiful when fire flared in her eyes.
He handed her his spare house key and his business card, on which he’d written his home address, along with a separate scrap of paper with the security system’s code. “You’ll find all the cleaning supplies in the laundry room closet. And don’t worry about the rooms above the garage. I had Sabrina stay there this summer to give her some privacy. She cleaned right before she left.”
The Parent Pact (Book Three of The Return to Redemption Series) Page 3