The Parent Pact (Book Three of The Return to Redemption Series)

by Laurie Kellogg

  “How’d he do that?”

  Tyler laughed. “You know, the lunatic has performed so many daredevil stunts in his life, I don’t even remember. His dad was killed driving home from work one night when Luke was only thirteen. After that, Luke seemed to have a death wish. I suspect it’s why he majored in criminal justice instead of going into law with me.”

  “So did he have to quit playing football and give up his scholarship?” she asked, cracking eggs into a bowl.

  “Fortunately, no. Football season had ended. But he needed surgery to pin his arm back together. He had no insurance and no idea how he could pay for it. When the time came to settle the hospital bill, Luke discovered our stodgy roommate had already paid it.”

  “That must’ve made the two of you feel about six inches tall.”

  “More like three—especially after Ben shrugged off his good deed and said, ‘What good is money if you can’t use it to help your buddies?’ He actually considered us friends after we treated him like last month’s garbage. Generosity of that magnitude wasn’t something either Luke or I could ignore.”

  “So the devoted duo became a trusted trio,” she surmised.

  “Luke and I taught the stiff to loosen up and generally have a good time. In return, Ben smoothed out our rough edges and introduced us to country clubs and debutantes.”

  “I guess that’s where you met Erica.”

  “Yup.”

  “You’re lucky to have such good friends,” she said, turning away to beat the eggs. “None of mine from high school were interested in hanging out with someone tied down with a baby.”

  “That’s a shame. They don’t know what a good time they missed.” He slid his hands up her arms to her shoulders and massaged the tension out of her neck.

  “So what would you like me to make for dinner on Sunday?”

  “It’s okay if you don’t feel like cooking. I can simply grill something so you can relax and be my guest.”

  “No.” She shrugged. “I don’t mind. But I won’t let you pay me for the day. I’d like to meet your friends and your sister.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “What do you think Luke would enjoy?”

  “He’s Italian—pasta is his middle name. Don’t worry about dessert. If I know Sabrina, she’ll insist on baking Luke a birthday cake.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get going. It’s late.”

  As he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm. “What about your breakfast?”

  “I’ll take my coffee with me and stop for a bagel. Try not to be too grouchy with the kids today, okay?”

  Annie let out a giant huff and snapped, “For the hundredth time, I am not grouchy.”

  He loved to push her buttons. “Right.” He winked at her and grinned. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  ~*~

  The friendly, unassuming woman who arrived at one o’clock on Sunday afternoon, with a delicious-looking carrot cake, was nothing like the chic, sophisticate Annie expected Tyler’s sister to be.

  Sabrina stood a couple of inches taller than Annie and wore a turquoise V-neck sweater with a pair of black slacks. Her honey blonde hair was styled in a windblown shaggy cut. Her sparkling green eyes left no doubt Tyler and she were related.

  “You must be Sabrina. I’m Annie. Your brother’s down in the basement setting up the trains with my son.” She swallowed hard as his sister stepped back a moment and cocked her head, openly studying Annie’s plum acrylic sweater and straight gray skirt. It was the best outfit Annie could come up with from her meager wardrobe.

  “Well, I’m glad to see my brother has developed some sense when it comes to women. You’re a big improvement over Erica.”

  Her? Hardly. If Sabrina thought Annie was an improvement, apparently Tyler’s sister hadn’t held a very high opinion of his late wife. “Thank you.” Annie smiled. “I don’t know what your bother has told you, but I’m really just his housekeeper.”

  “What a pity. If he should happen to wake up, you have my vote.”

  Moments later, Mandy dragged her aunt up to her bedroom to show her Caitlin’s arm transplant. Annie stepped into the pantry, and while she searched for the box of croutons she’d bought, the garage door opener hummed. A moment later, George Clooney’s younger brother waltzed in the back door as if he visited every afternoon around that time. Apparently, Tyler must have given his friend the access code to the keypad on his garage door.

  “Where’re my two sweethearts?” he bellowed, failing to notice Annie standing in the pantry.

  Mandy’s feet pounded down the steps, and she dashed into the kitchen squealing, “Uncle Luke!”

  “Mandy- kin!” Tyler’s large friend scooped the little girl up and tickled her breathless until Sabrina trotted down the back stairs. Setting Mandy down, he stretched out his muscular arms to catch Tyler’s sister as she leapt into his embrace, and he spun her in a circle. “How ya doin’, brat?”

  Annie doubted Luke ever had a problem subduing a suspect. He stood several inches over six feet and had a build that any NFL quarterback would envy.

  It took exactly thirty seconds for it to become clear that Sabrina felt a lot more than friendly affection for her brother’s handsome friend, and a split second longer to see Luke was completely oblivious to Sabrina’s feelings and his own movie-star good looks.

  Tyler emerged from the basement and hugged his sister before slapping Luke on the back. “So I assume you’ve both met Annie?”

  “She’s here?” Luke glanced around and finally spotted her standing behind him. A dazzling smile spread over his face and thick inky lashes lowered slightly as his dark gaze swept over her. He glanced at Sabrina and winked. “Apparently your brother isn’t a completely lost cause.”

  Sabrina’s face crumpled as Luke grinned at Annie and wiggled his midnight eyebrows. “Wanna take a spin on my bike with me later this afternoon?”

  Tyler slid a possessive arm around her. “No, she doesn’t. If I know you, you won’t bring her back, and Mandy and I will be forced to go hungry.”

  After five minutes of listening to them banter with each other, Annie relaxed. Tyler’s family and friends seemed like a pretty easy-going bunch.

  Or so she thought, until the doorbell rang and Tyler brought an impeccably dressed, steely-eyed Viking back to the family room. “BJ Elliott, this is Annie Barnes, the beautiful lady who’s been taking care of Mandy and me for the last month.”

  Tyler had never mentioned Ben’s last name before, so when he’d spoken of his friend and client, she’d never dreamed he was talking about the modern-day Midas. Even she, with her limited knowledge of the financial world, had heard of BJ Elliott.

  She dragged her gaze from the man’s precision haircut down to his light-blue oxford shirt, manicured nails, and sharply creased khakis. Despite that the corporate magnate’s name was constantly in the news, Annie had never seen a picture of him. However, there was little doubt this was the billionaire who bought and sold companies as fast as a grocer moved a shipment of produce.

  The two bottles of Rothschild in his hands erased all doubt about his identity. Even as ignorant as she was about wine, she knew Rothschild was one of the finest.

  The man’s size and Scandinavian coloring explained why the media called him the Golden Giant. Still, he wasn’t nearly as good looking as Tyler or Luke. The sharp angular lines of Ben’s face made him appear way too fierce to be classified as handsome.

  Annie swallowed hard and smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Elliott.”

  His lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed, sending an entirely different message than his polite greeting. “Likewise. Please, call me BJ or Ben—your choice.” He turned to Tyler and handed him the two bottles of wine. “I thought Luke would enjoy a nice bourdeaux for his birthday.”

  Luke studied the labels on the wine bottles and arched his eyebrows at Ben. “Chateau Mouton Rothschild, huh? You really do love me.”

  Tyler pulled a corkscrew from the drawer. “I guess I’d bett
er open one of those babies so it has a chance to breathe.”

  “You’ll want to drink the ‘86 first.” Ben pointed to the bottle on his left. “It was a better year.”

  While Tyler uncorked the wine, Sabrina took over the job of brushing the Italian bread with a mixture of crushed garlic, olive oil, and herbs. Annie’s hands trembled as she arranged the platter of antipasto salad under Ben’s penetrating gaze while he leaned against the center island, studying her with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

  Tyler opened a couple of bottles of fancy sparkling water to serve with the meal also. As soon as she removed the bubbling tray of lasagna from the oven, she sprinkled some grated provolone cheese on the pan of garlic bread Sabrina had coated and popped it in to bake.

  When they all moved into the dining room, Tyler pulled out the chair for Annie at the end of the table closest to the kitchen. Her stomach did a nosedive as Tyler gestured for his blond friend to take the seat on her right while he plopped Noah in the chair to her left.

  Tyler settled at the table’s head with Mandy and Luke on either side of him, which left his two friends scrambling to seat Sabrina between them.

  Rivulets of sweat ran down Annie’s back as Ben continued to stare at her while she filled plates with the fancy antipasto salad she’d experimented with after watching hours of television cooking shows.

  As soon as she’d served everyone, Tyler snapped his fingers and jumped up. “I left the wine on the kitchen counter.”

  Hoping for a reprieve from Ben’s probing gaze, Annie sprang to her feet. “No, sit down. I’ll get it. I have to check the bread, anyway.”

  She strode into the kitchen and pulled the cheesy garlic bread from the oven, and slid it onto a serving platter. Sucking in a deep breath, she picked the plate and grabbed the open bottle from the counter as she headed back to the dining room. When she reached the door, her hands shook as Ben’s piercing gaze once again locked on her. The bottle slipped from her fingers and shattered on the ceramic tile right inside the kitchen door, spraying red wine everywhere—on the walls, on the woodwork, on the pale gray dining room carpet, and, most importantly, all over the leg of BJ Elliott’s light tan pants.

  Oh, please, let this all be a bad dream.

  Hot tears scalded her eyes as she looked up at the stunned expression on everyone’s faces. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered and set the plate of bread on the table, turning to Ben. “Judging from Luke’s reaction to the wine’s label, I know it must have cost a fortune. If you can’t get it out of your trousers, I’ll pay for another pair, I promise.” Although, if his pants were as expensive as they looked, it might take her a year.

  “It’s okay, Annie.” Luke smiled. “For Ben, breaking a six or seven hundred-dollar bottle of wine is equivalent to you busting a bottle of sparkling grape juice.”

  Seven hundred dollars? Her stomach clenched. It was so much worse than she thought.

  Tyler’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Great, Luke, make her feel even lousier than she already does.”

  She stared down at the dark purple liquid seeping into the carpet and dropped to her knees to blot it with her napkin. “Oh, no! This is going to stain, too.”

  The walls closed in on her, and she felt as if a set of fingers slowly squeezed her windpipe shut. She glanced up to find Ben studying her like a laboratory rat while one corner of his mouth twitched as if he were amused by her humiliation.

  He gripped her under the arm and pulled her to her feet. “Don’t, you’ll cut yourself.”

  The dining room suddenly had no air.

  She spun on her heels and dashed through the family room’s French doors and out to the solarium while Tyler called after her. Gasping, she continued outside to the terrace and collapsed on the steps, burying her face in her hands.

  When he sank down next to her several moments later, she turned her face into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz. I made a mess of everything.”

  His strong arms wrapped around her while she stared down at the rolled-back sleeves of his light-blue oxford shirt and stiffened. Hadn’t Tyler been wearing a navy polo shirt?

  No, please don’t let this be happening.

  Chapter 8

  “I didn’t take you for a coward, Annie.”

  She recoiled from Ben’s arms as if she’d been resting her cheek on a hot iron.

  “A c-coward?” She shoved him away.

  “That’s right. A courageous woman would’ve stayed and cleaned up the mess she’d made as best she could.”

  “I might have if you hadn’t found my disgrace so entertaining. This is all your fault, anyway.”

  “My fault?” Ben’s eyebrows shot up.

  “That’s right. If you hadn’t spent every second since you got here making me a nervous wreck, I wouldn’t have dropped that bottle.”

  “And exactly how have I done that?”

  “By watching me as if you were grading me. I’m sure I’m nothing like your legion of servants, so I’m sorry if I’m not up to your standards.”

  “First of all,” he said, raising his index finger, “I don’t have a legion of servants, only a mere platoon. I live in Princeton with my personal assistant Thomas, who doubles as my valet and chauffeur. He’s been taking care of me since I got too old for a nanny. I also have a part-time housekeeper who comes three times a week to clean and prepare meals. Other than Thomas and Ida, I have a small security force required by my position.” He lifted another finger to form a peace sign. “Secondly, I wasn’t grading you.”

  “No, you were just looking at me as if you were afraid I’d steal the silverware.”

  “Unh-uh.” Ben shook his head. “I was worried you might walk off with something far more valuable than the silverware. But I can see now I have nothing to be concerned about.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Tyler’s heart. I don’t want to see him taken for a ride by another woman.”

  “You don’t have a very high opinion of females, do you?”

  “Frankly? No.” Ben glanced back at the house with regret flickering in his eyes. “I only know one woman I completely trust.” He shrugged and smiled at her. “Well, maybe two, now.”

  When the whir of a motor drifted from the house, Annie stood. “It sounds as if they’re shampooing the carpet. I’d better go in and help.”

  Ben pulled her back down on the step. “No, sit. I suggested Tyler should clean up the mess while I talk to you. Those three are quite capable of handling it. Besides, I haven’t finished rebutting everything you accused me of.”

  Rebutting? Great. Another college boy who thought he had to use his entire vocabulary. She settled next to him and shrugged. “Okay, so rebut.”

  “For your information, I wasn’t at all amused by your predicament. I was simply happy when I realized why you were so nervous and eager for me to like you.”

  She shied away and squinted up at him. “Why?”

  “It’s not unusual for women to bend over backwards to please me. I attract gold-diggers like a picnic draws ants.”

  She did a double take. “You think I’m after your money? Of all the egotistical—”

  “No. That’s why I was smiling. When you knelt down in the middle of all that glass, I knew for sure your desire to make a good impression had nothing at all to do with me.”

  “I have to be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Elliott, so far I’m not too fond of you. So why would you think I’d care two licks whether you like me or not?”

  “Because I’m Tyler’s friend, and the fact you were more worried about saving his carpet than cutting your knees proved you genuinely care about him—unlike the tramp he married.”

  Why did everyone keep referring to Erica as if she was one step away from a streetwalker? “Tyler’s wife was beautiful and elegant. How can you speak that way about the woman your friend must have once loved? Especially now that she’s dead and unable to defend herself.”

  Ben peered into her f
ace. “He hasn’t told you about her, has he?”

  “Only that his marriage had problems.”

  “That’s an understatement.” He snorted. “I suppose he doesn’t want to sully Mandy’s memory of her mother.”

  Sully? The man was another living, breathing thesaurus.

  “I don’t understand. Their marriage couldn’t possibly have been as terrible as you’re implying. They were about to have another child when she was killed.”

  “Right. Erica was having a child, Annie. Not Tyler. They hadn’t slept together since he came home two years ago and found her in their bed with some total stranger. That was when Luke and I told Tyler how many times his wife had tried to seduce both of us.”

  Annie stared at him a moment and whispered. “He must’ve been devastated.”

  “Not really. He was angry but not surprised.” He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “It wasn’t the first time she’d been unfaithful. But he was destroyed when the baby died with her.”

  “So you’re saying Tyler didn’t love Erica at all?”

  “Ding-ding-ding! And the woman wins her choice of kewpie dolls,” Ben called to an imaginary crowd.

  “But....if he didn’t love her, why did he marry her?”

  “Good question. I guess he thought he loved her at the time. But if you ask me, Tyler loved Erica’s high-society image, not her. She represented everything he aspired to be.”

  Everything Annie wasn’t and never hoped to be.

  “But as it turned out, a lot of what attracted him to his wife were symptoms of mental illness. Her bipolar condition made her extra vivacious and eager to jump into bed with him, which to a younger man who’s feeling his oats can seem a lot like love.” Ben sighed. “I blame myself for introducing them, but I didn’t think she’d lower herself to go slumming with him.”

  “Slumming? Tyler always looks as if he stepped right out of a Brooks Brothers store window.”