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

by Laurie Kellogg

  “I hope they work things out. I’ll have to give him a call. In any case, the fact that Nick said the same thing proves great minds think alike.”

  Tyler followed Noah and the twins who’d finally grown bored with chasing each other through a huge model of the heart.

  “Okay.” Keith fell into step beside him, raising his hands in surrender. “You and Nick have convinced me my wife still loves me. Now my only problem is showing Jenny how much I still love her. ”

  “Intercourse isn’t the only way to do that, Keith. But for what it’s worth, that’s why they make those little blue pills.” Tyler slapped him on the shoulder. “Swallow your pride and talk to Doc Foster. He’ll fix you right up.”

  ~*~

  When the Tiger Cub pack assembled to leave the Franklin Institute that afternoon, one of the other dads convinced Keith to ride home in his car instead of with Tyler. Apparently, that morning, Joey Larson had shown up with his mother instead of Greg who, according to Paula, had work backed up at his service station. She’d spent the entire day flirting with the man she’d carpooled with.

  Tyler felt bad for Joey—and even worse for the poor guy who’d had to put up with Paula all day.

  The other fathers agreed Tyler, the only single man among them, should take the newly separated redhead and her son home.

  “So....” Paula purred as he pulled the Navigator out of the parking lot, following the caravan of vehicles. “How’ve you been, Tyler? I haven’t seen you at the country club in ages. I’ve been hoping to talk you into being my partner in the couples’ golf tournament.”

  “I haven’t had time to play golf. I’ve been busy with work and taking care of Mandy.”

  In truth, he was seriously considering resigning his membership. He’d joined the country club mostly for Erica’s benefit. He couldn’t envision Annie being comfortable with the golf and tennis set. She’d be much more at home on the public courts in the park where the kids were welcome. Mandy and Noah could amuse themselves on the playground while he batted the ball around with Annie in shorts and T-shirts instead of the club’s required tennis whites.

  “So what do you say?” Paula’s auburn eyebrows lifted. “Are you game?”

  “It’s nice of you to ask, but I’m sorry. I’m involved with someone right now.”

  Erica squinted back at Noah sitting all the way in the back of the SUV with her son. “So I guess Annie really is more than simply your housekeeper.”

  The small hairs on his neck stood up. “She’s also a friend. As a matter of fact, she’s at my house getting everything ready for a business dinner I’m having tonight.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You mean you didn’t hire a caterer?”

  “No. Annie wants to do this herself.”

  “Good luck. When she makes a fool of you tonight, you’ll see the light.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a total snob.”

  “No, I’m not. I simply know a woman with her background hasn’t got the knowledge or social finesse to do that kind of entertaining.” Paula trailed one of her dragon-lady nails down his arm. “And I can’t imagine what a man with your looks and brains could possibly have in common with his cleaning woman.” She flashed a cynical smile. “But then, maybe you like being with someone who’ll remake the bed when you’re through.”

  His knuckles turned white as he strangled the steering wheel instead of wrapping his hands around the jealous shrew’s throat. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating. Annie’s a sweet, devoted mom—which is more than I can say for you. So keep your sanctimonious innuendos to yourself.”

  He glanced into the rearview mirror at Noah in the back and winked at him, hoping any of the conversation he might have overheard had gone over his head. “Erica told me why you married Greg,” Tyler lowered his voice to a whisper to ensure the boys couldn’t hear. “So don’t act like you were so pure. The only difference between you and Annie is money and the fact Joey’s dad is an honorable man who accepted responsibility. So slide off that pedestal you’ve placed yourself on and admit you’re as human and flawed as the rest of us.”

  Paula fell silent for several moments, clearly shaken by what he’d said. When she eventually spoke, her voice quivered. “I’m sorry. Maybe I owe Annie an apology. I guess I can’t imagine what the two of you find to talk about.”

  “We talk plenty. You know, Erica and I had everything in common and absolutely nothing to say to each other—unless, of course, you count her putting me to sleep with the most recent gossip at the country club and the details of her latest shopping trip.”

  He might have to explain a lot to Annie about his work, but at least she paid attention to him and tried to understand—unlike some women, who only wanted to hear the sound of their own voices.

  “Annie has dinner waiting for me every night when I come home, and she listens to me.”

  “Isn’t that why you pay her? To cook for you?”

  “What’s your point? I gave Erica everything I had, and the only thing she ever made was reservations at some swanky restaurant where we couldn’t take Mandy. Oh, and appointments at the spa,” he added. “She was good at making those, too.”

  He flipped on the blinker to turn onto the highway. “All I wanted to do at the end of a hectic day was kick back and spend time with my daughter, who I didn’t see nearly enough as it was.”

  Paula turned and stared out the passenger window. “You sound just like Greg.”

  “Maybe that’s because he has a good point. Your husband loves you and your son, Paula. And he’s killing himself, working sixty-hour weeks to give you what you believe will make you happy. I suggest you think long and hard before you proceed with your divorce. Your country club membership isn’t going to hold your hand or run to the drug store the next time you’re sick.”

  ~*~

  By seven p.m., Annie’s concern over the evening’s outcome sent her anxiety level off the charts. Dani had called that morning to explain she was sick and couldn’t play with the kids in the basement that evening and help them get ready for bed. Fortunately, Jenn had come to the rescue and offered to take the kids to her house for a sleepover.

  “I wish I hadn’t had Noah’s trip today,” Tyler muttered as he strolled down the back stairs after showering and shaving. He straightened his tie and froze on the bottom step, staring at her. “Where’s the new dress I asked you to buy?”

  “I didn’t see any reason to waste the money since I already had the one Ben bought me. I thought you liked it.”

  “I love it. But this little soiree calls for understated elegance and sophistication, not glitz and glamour. A silk dinner dress would be a lot more appropriate. We’re not attending a Hollywood movie premiere.”

  “I’m sorry.” Annie looked down at the beaded garment. “If you think I’m overdressed, I can go home and put on one of the dresses I wear to church.”

  “No. It’s better if you’re overdressed than too casual.”

  She pulled the tin of caviar she’d packed in ice from the refrigerator. “I thought since Ben chose this—”

  “Oh, no-o.” He grabbed the tin from her hands.

  “What’s the matter? I ordered nine ounces. I know that’s slightly less than you asked for, but I’m not going to eat it. And that was the closest size they—”

  “Annie, this isn’t Osetra.”

  “You only told me to get caviar. You didn’t tell me you wanted a specific type. The customer service rep looked up the record of your last order. This is what they shipped you the last time.”

  “Erica probably bought it to serve before we went out for dinner with friends.” He held his hands up. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. You didn’t know any better.”

  She swallowed hard. “I thought as long as it was from the Caspian Sea it was supposed to be good. Is there that much difference?”

  “Yes. Osetra is next best thing to Beluga which isn’t imported to the U.S. any longer. Sevruga isn’t as good as Osetra and, there
fore, costs less.”

  She’d certainly learned that. When the customer service rep had told her the various prices on the phone, she’d nearly choked.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He hugged her. “I know I must sound like a snob. But the art of negotiating is all about demonstrating a position of power. The whole purpose of this party is to impress Gordon and his cronies and make it clear they need Ben a lot more than he needs them before we get down to cutting any deals.”

  “Should I forget about putting it out?”

  “No. It’s still caviar. No one will turn their nose up at it.”

  Except for her. Regardless that it was considered a delicacy, the thought of eating fish eggs made her queasy.

  Tyler pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’ll be fine. But you need to serve it on ice and make sure you don’t open it until right before you put it out. There’s a sterling silver server with a crystal insert in the china cabinet in the dining room.”

  So that was what that thing was for. She’d been delusional to think she could plan a party like this. When the doorbell rang and Ben arrived with Tyler’s sister as his date, Annie sent up a prayer of thanks.

  Ben took Sabrina’s coat as she blew on her hands. “Can you believe how cold it’s gotten this week? It feels like the dead of winter instead of autumn.”

  “Your brother didn’t tell me you were Ben’s date tonight.” Annie hugged her and admired Sabrina’s turquoise raw silk sheath.

  “That’s because her brother didn’t know.” Tyler kissed his sister and studied his friend with a speculative glint in his eyes.

  Within the next twenty minutes, the rest of the guests arrived and Tyler introduced everyone. While Ben served them something to drink in the living room, Sabrina offered to take some hors d’oeuvres to the guests. After delivering a variety of cheeses and crackers, Tyler’s sister returned for the platter of shrimp. “What about toothpicks?”

  Annie snapped her fingers. “Right. Mandy and I took Tyler’s car to the party store for some fancy ones this afternoon. I must have left the bag in the Jaguar.”

  “Okay. I’ll go get them.”

  A split second after Sabrina pulled open the laundry room door, Annie remembered Mitch was in the garage and nearly swallowed her chewing gum. “Wait, I locked the dog—”

  Thrilled to be released from his doggie prison, Mitch squeezed past Sabrina’s legs, bounded through the laundry room and kitchen, down the hallway, and into the room full of strangers.

  Annie dashed after him, arriving in the living room in time to see dog jump on the president of Clark Industries and leave his dusty paw prints on the man’s designer suit jacket.

  Before Tyler or she could grab Mitch’s collar, the beast whizzed over to a lady seated in the corner. Annie cringed as the mutt shoved his snout in the woman’s crotch and caused her to splash her Bloody Mary on her ivory cocktail dress.

  If only she had a rope. She could use it to catch the mangy mongrel and then hang herself with it.

  She grabbed Mitch and scolded him, then apologized to their guests while Sabrina showed the disgruntled woman to the powder room to sponge her dress with club soda.

  Tyler locked Mitch back in the garage while Annie paced the kitchen. “I knew I should’ve found the time to bring him home.”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Stop berating yourself. It’s not your fault. I should’ve been here to take care of it.”

  “But he’s my dog.”

  “If I had a pet, the same thing could’ve happened. In five minutes, everyone will have forgotten about this. Now let’s concentrate on making the rest of the party a success.”

  He was right. She had too much to do to fall apart.

  He picked up a napkin and held it out. “You might want to lose the chewing gum before you go in to officially greet everyone.”

  She closed her eyes and spit the wad of bubblegum into the napkin. “I’m sorry. I chew it while I’m cooking so I don’t pick on everything. I forgot I—”

  “It’s okay. No one else noticed.”

  Once he returned to the living room, she gently spooned the caviar into the crystal bowl and nestled it in the sterling dish of crushed ice. She stopped in the dining room and added a serving spoon from the silver chest and carried it into the living room. She set it on the cocktail table with a tray of toast points.

  Tyler led her around the room to greet everyone. When he finished introducing her to the last couple who’d just helped themselves to the caviar, his face turned as white as if he’d sprayed it with talcum powder.

  “You told me to serve it anyway,” she whispered.

  “It’s all right.” He snatched the spoon from the caviar and strode across the center hall to the dining room, then returned with a beautiful Mother of Pearl serving spoon and a handful of matching forks. “I guess that’ll have to do.”

  Obviously, it still wasn’t okay. She returned to the kitchen muttering, and Sabrina enlightened her. “Metal utensils change the flavor of caviar. And it’s traditionally served right in its tin.”

  “Well, that doesn’t seem like a very elegant way to present something that costs a small fortune. Besides, he told me to serve it in that crystal bowl.”

  “I think he meant you should set the container in the dish. Don’t let it bother you. It’s fine the way it is. Leaving it in the tin is simply to give the impression of just-opened freshness. Lots of people serve it in a bowl. My brother is so determined to prove he’s pulled himself out of the gutter, he gets hung up on nitpicky customs and etiquette.”

  Every second, the evening got worse. If the oven weren’t electric, she’d consider sticking her head inside it.

  ~*~

  Tyler’s mouth ached from forcing it into a smile. After listening to Paula’s catty remarks that afternoon, he’d become hypersensitive to every little thing that was even slightly off about the evening.

  His shoulders sagged with relief when Annie returned to the living room with the sterling platter of hot hors d’oeuvres and everyone inhaled them, all the while chastising her for challenging their willpower.

  The balding CEO of Gordon Enterprises dragged his gaze from Annie’s hem, down her nylon clad legs, to her heels. “Spectacular.”

  She smiled as he bit into a crab canapé. “Please, have another one.”

  “I wasn’t referring to the hors d’oeuvres.” Jack Gordon winked at her, making her blush. “Although, they’re also fantastic.”

  Catching the daggers Charlotte Gordon threw at her husband, Tyler and Ben raced across the room to rescue Annie.

  “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes,” she informed Tyler as he escorted her back to the kitchen.

  “Great. Your hors d’oeuvres are a big hit. I told you everything would be okay, didn’t I? Where’d you put the wine I brought home last night? I need to open it so it can breathe for a while.”

  “It’s in the refrigerator, of course. I put it on the bottom shelf so it would get nice and cold.”

  He pressed his lips together. Fabulous.

  “I did something wrong again, didn’t I? Isn’t the wine supposed to be chilled?”

  “Not red wine. It’s okay,” he whispered. “None of this is your fault. It’s mine.” He lifted the foil on a baking pan. “What’s this?”

  “Apple cobbler,” she told him. His disappointment must have shown on his face, because she quickly added, “When I made it last week, you ate practically an entire pan in one evening after having seconds for dinner.”

  Her cobbler was out this world. However, it was a rather plebian way to end an elegant meal. “And our guests will love it, too,” he assured her.

  While she finished preparing the gravy for the garlic whipped potatoes, he found Ben in the empty dining room. “I’m sorry, Beej. I knew I should’ve insisted on hiring a caterer, but I didn’t want to discourage her. She was just starting to show some self-confidence.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.
”

  “Well, the blame for her dress belongs at your door. I told her to buy something less glitzy. She was trying to save me money again.”

  “Tough if those old hens think she’s overdressed. She looks dazzling.” Ben chuckled. “If we can keep Charlotte Gordon from stepping on her husband’s tongue the next time Annie comes into the room, we’ll be fine.”

  “You think so? Wait until you taste the wine. She stuck it in the fridge.” Tyler sighed, feeling as snooty as he’d accused Paula of being that morning. “I never should’ve put Annie in this situation. She’s worked so hard. I feel like a hypercritical ass every time I notice something wrong.”

  A few minutes later, Annie informed them dinner was ready. Tyler invited their guests into the dining room and noticed the candles hadn’t been lit. Lighting the tapers, he smiled at Annie in a vain attempt to extinguish the distress in her eyes.

  As he turned to the Gordons, Tyler cringed. Great. Social etiquette dictated that he seat the sleazy CEO in the position of honor on Annie’s right at the foot of the table.

  Once everyone was settled, she apologized again for the incident with the dog.

  The wrinkles on Charlotte Gordon’s fifty-something face turned to canyons as she scowled at her husband, who seemed more interested in staring at Annie than in the food.

  The woman gritted her teeth and muttered past them, “This broccoli cheese soup is wonderful. Isn’t it, Jack?”

  “Yes.” He nodded, never taking his eyes off Annie. “You’ll have to give Charlotte the recipe to pass on to our housekeeper.”

  “I can do better than that.” Annie craned her neck to smile at the silver-haired biddy seated farther down the table on Tyler’s right. “There’s plenty left. I’ll send a container of it home with you.”

  Everyone stopped eating when Charlotte arched one of her platinum eyebrows and said in a frosty tone, “Thank you. I’m sure Eunice will enjoy it.”

  Tyler clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to tell the ungrateful battle-axe off. It wasn’t Annie’s fault the woman’s husband was a philanderer.

  To his immense relief, the remainder of the meal passed without further incident. Once the dessert and coffee were brought to the table, he began to relax. Annie had served the cobbler in crystal stemmed glasses and topped each portion with a dollop of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with cinnamon, making the simple dessert seem as upscale as the rest of the meal had been.