by Gina Wilkins
Lindsey sighed with apparent regret. “Too late now. Back when it was just him, I might have been tempted. Was tempted, actually. But now that there’s a kid involved…”
“You mean you’re no longer interested in him because he’s become responsible for Isabelle?” Surely she had misunderstood.
But Lindsey nodded. “Maybe it makes me as shallow as the aerobics instructor, but I can’t see myself getting involved with a man with a little girl. Way too much pressure involved in that situation for my comfort.”
Caitlin couldn’t imagine why she was suddenly feeling rather indignant on Nathan’s behalf. Women who had once practically thrown themselves at his feet were suddenly scratching him off their eligible-bachelor lists. After all, didn’t she have her own rule about single fathers? And hadn’t she been cautioning herself about not getting too involved with Nathan and Isabelle?
But it was different with her, she tried to reassure herself. She hadn’t pursued him before he had Isabelle, either.
Lindsey seemed to sense that it was time to change the subject. “Tell me some more funny stories about your new office manager.”
That new conversational gambit and its offshoots took them through dessert. Though Caitlin was greatly relieved that they had changed the topic, Nathan and Isabelle remained at the back of her mind. One particular remark kept echoing through her thoughts—the one Lindsey had repeated about Nathan being on the lookout for a wife who could help him raise his little sister.
It was a prophecy Caitlin couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how hard she tried to dismiss it as idle gossip.
Chapter Seven
Nathan had Isabelle with him again when he showed up at the office late Tuesday morning. Studying the uncharacteristic shadows beneath his eyes and the lines around his mouth, Caitlin pulled him into the file room to ask, “What’s wrong? I thought you were going to find somewhere to take Isabelle during working hours.”
His answer came out in a growl. “I called around. There are two excellent preschools in this town. Both of them depend on my mother for fund-raising and enlisting volunteer pools.”
“You don’t mean…”
He nodded grimly. “When the administrators found out who Isabelle was, they suddenly discovered there were no openings.”
“That’s appalling.”
“That’s unacceptable.” Irene stood in the doorway of the file room, her steely eyes glinting, her crimson hair seeming to flame with ire. “I’m sorry, Mr. McCloud, but I couldn’t help overhearing. Did I understand you to say that two preschools turned down your application because they didn’t want to risk offending your mother?”
Nathan cleared his throat, as intimidated as always by Irene, especially when faced with her temper. “That’s exactly what happened.”
She tapped one orthopedically clad foot on the carpet, her mouth set in a grim line. “Which school was your first choice?”
“I’ve heard Miss Thelma’s is the best. But—”
She turned with military precision. “I’ll take care of it. In the meantime, you need to get ready for your court appearance this morning. Your sister will be fine here until you get back. Mandy and Loretta can take turns watching her.”
“Thanks, but…”
His voice faded when he realized he was talking to an empty doorway. The look he gave Caitlin then was almost comical. “You really think—”
“I think Isabelle will be enrolled in preschool before lunchtime,” Caitlin said, amused despite the gravity of the situation.
“If anyone can do it, it will be Irene.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just hope if Isabelle does get in, she’ll be treated the same as the other kids.”
“She will be,” Caitlin predicted. “For one thing, they won’t be able to help falling for her once they spend time with her. And you are an attorney. They’re well aware that you could file a lawsuit if there’s any hint Isabelle is mistreated. And, finally, they might be a little worried about annoying your mother now, but they’re really not going to risk making Irene mad again.”
“You have a point there,” Nathan conceded with a weak semblance of his usual smile.
“I can’t help noticing that you look tired this morning. Are you okay?”
“I was up most of the night preparing for my case today,” he admitted. “I was a week behind, of course. And by the time I’d made dinner last night and cleaned up the kitchen and washed a couple of loads of clothes and given Isabelle her bath and read her bedtime stories, it was already sort of late. Then between work and worry about getting her into a quality day care program, I managed only a couple of hours sleep.”
She thought of all the single working mothers who had to deal with those very burdens, often unappreciated. And then she thought of the women who were no longer interested in Nathan precisely because of the chores he had just listed. And of the woman who had predicted that he would soon be looking for someone to share those chores with him.
“You need a housekeeper,” she blurted in sudden inspiration.
“A housekeeper?” he repeated, his hand going still at his neck.
“Of course. Someone to do the cooking and laundry and housework. You’ve managed to get by with once-a-week cleaning help until now, but with Isabelle there, you need daily help. If you’re really lucky, you’ll find someone who can do double duty as a baby-sitter when necessary. It won’t be cheap, of course, but I’m sure it will be worth it.”
“You know, that’s a good idea. As soon as I have time, I’ll place an ad or call a housekeepers’ agency or something.”
“I’ll handle that for you, Mr. McCloud,” Irene said as she entered with his briefcase. “I have several connections with housekeeping services. Sorry for eavesdropping again,” she added perfunctorily. “Now you really must leave or you’ll be late for court. And I’ve placed a call to Miss Thelma. I’m expecting her to call me back shortly. I intend to let her know exactly what I think of the way she treated you, especially you being a lawyer and all.”
Caitlin watched as Nathan’s hand fell to his side. “You, um—”
Irene shook a finger at him. “You really must go, Mr. McCloud. You know how irritated Judge Coleman gets when anyone causes a delay in his schedule. Don’t worry about a thing here. I’ll take care of everything.”
Caitlin smiled when Nathan looked rather helplessly in her direction, and then she made shooing motions with her hands. “What are you standing there for? Go, go.”
Looking more than a little bemused, he went.
Irene shook her head after Nathan had departed. “Imagine a woman deserting her son in his time of need, regardless of the circumstances,” she muttered. “I’m not usually one to get involved in the personal lives of my employers—”
“Of course not,” Caitlin murmured, watching the indignant office manager in fascination.
“But if we’re going to keep this office running smoothly, it’s obvious that I’m going to have to give him a hand with getting his routines in order, both here and at home.”
“I’m sure Nathan appreciates your help,” Caitlin assured her, suppressing a smile at the memory of Nathan’s dazed expression when he’d left. “Do you really think you can find him a housekeeper?”
“Oh, yes. As a matter of fact, I believe my sister, Fayrene Tuckerman, would be interested in the position. She retired from housekeeping a few years back, but she’s been at loose ends ever since her husband died last year. She’s very organized and efficient, and she’s quite fond of children, so this could be just the opportunity she’s been looking for. I’ll call her and ask if she’s interested.”
“Your sister? Um, Irene, maybe—”
But the woman was already gone, intent on her mission of having everything in her universe back under control. If getting Nathan’s home life organized meant that the office routines would go smoothly again, then she considered it her duty to see to it.
Things were getting more interesting around here all the t
ime. But Caitlin, like Irene, was becoming rather anxious for a normal routine.
Nathan was rapidly losing control of his life. Ever since he had received that telephone call from his father’s attorney, he had been on a roller coaster of changes and emotions, and he felt as if someone else was guiding the ride.
By the time he returned from court Tuesday afternoon, after spending several frustrating hours in front of a judge who had never liked him and a jury that seemed to be completely uninterested in anything except getting out of the courtroom as quickly as possible, he was wiped out. He arrived at his office to find that not only was Isabelle enrolled in a preschool program, but he was now the employer of a full-time housekeeper. Irene Mitchell’s sister, no less.
“Please tell me she was pulling my leg,” he said to Caitlin as he stood in her office, his back pressed against her closed door. “Please tell me she hasn’t hired her sister as my housekeeper.”
Caitlin closed the divorce file she’d been studying and looked at him sympathetically. “I tried to convince her to wait until you returned. She said she saw no need to waste time. She said you could hire her sister on a temporary basis, and if it didn’t work out you could find someone else.”
“Right. Like I’m going to have the nerve to fire her sister. Especially if the woman is anything like Irene.”
“Actually, I believe you’re the one on probation,” she murmured with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “If Fayrene Tuckerman doesn’t like you, she’s free to leave your employ.”
He raised both arms in a gesture of sheer frustration. “What made Irene think she has the authority to hire a housekeeper for me?”
“She heard you say you didn’t have time to interview anyone yourself just now. She considers it her job to assist you by handling tasks you don’t have time to tackle. Irene is a very efficient office manager.”
“This isn’t going to work. You have to do something.”
Her eyebrows rose. She tapped one hand on her desk, a sign that she was becoming annoyed. “I have to do something?”
“Exactly. You’re the one who got me into this.”
“And how, exactly, do you figure that?”
“You hired Irene in the first place.”
“Of all the—” She slapped both hands on her desk and stood. “All I’ve done is try to help you while still keeping this firm afloat. You’re the one who has brought the personal complications into the office.”
He grimaced, knowing she was right. If there was one person who was blameless in all of this, it was Caitlin, who had gone out of her way to help him. He moved closer to her, his tone apologetic when he said, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Only slightly appeased, she sniffed. “You should apologize. I hired Irene because you weren’t there to help me interview the applicants. I still think she’s a great office manager. Okay, she’s a little overenthusiastic about it, but she means well. She’s simply trying to help.”
“You’re right. I’m being a jerk. But still…”
“I understand you’re uncomfortable with the present situation. But you have to admit Irene’s sister is probably a superior housekeeper.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I’ll probably be afraid to move in my own house. I’ll leave footprints on the carpet or something.”
“I doubt it will be that bad.”
He wished she sounded a bit more confident. “Will you meet her with me?”
“You’re a big boy, Nathan. There’s really no need for—”
“I need you,” he cut in. He’d intended to say the words lightly, but they came out a bit more seriously than he’d planned. He cleared his throat. “I would really appreciate it if you would be there when I meet her for the first time—just for moral support.”
After a moment she sighed. “All right. When?”
“Irene said her sister would be at my house at six this evening.”
“Fine. I have a meeting with a client tonight, but it’s not until eight. That should leave plenty of time for me to hold your hand while you meet your new housekeeper.”
Though he knew she was being sarcastic, Nathan liked the idea of her holding his hand. He contented himself with leaning over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. He was delighted when the gesture made her blush to the roots of her hair. “Thank you.”
She stepped away from him so quickly she bumped hard into the corner of her desk. “You’re welcome. Shouldn’t you go check on Isabelle?”
“Last time I looked she was sound asleep in the break room.”
“Then you’d better go see if she’s still sleeping. I have a couple dozen calls to make in the next few minutes.”
“Right. I’ll let you get to it, then.” Relishing the lingering taste of her soft skin on his lips, he let himself out of her office.
Caitlin felt as though her cheek still tingled when she parked in front of Nathan’s house that evening. And then she told herself she was being ridiculous. Of course her cheek wasn’t still tingling just because Nathan had given her a friendly peck of gratitude. If she didn’t get these silly fancies out of her mind, she was going to make herself crazy.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her lately, but she was more than ready to get back to the way things had been a couple of weeks ago, when she and Nathan had been nothing more than business partners who kept their hands—and their lips—to themselves. Along with their personal problems.
So what was she doing coming to his house this evening to help him interview his new housekeeper?
Apparently she had arrived before Fayrene Tuckerman. But it was only a quarter to six. If Fayrene really was like her sister, she would arrive promptly on the hour.
Nathan opened the door when she rang the bell. He had changed out of the suit he’d worn for work and into a pair of snug-fitting jeans and a soft-looking, butter-yellow pullover. She noted immediately that the color was perfect for his lightly tanned skin and sandy hair and that the fabric looked invitingly touchable.
Strictly an observation, of course.
It wasn’t that she actually wanted to run her hands up the front of that lovely soft shirt or to slide her fingers into his thick, gold-streaked hair, she assured herself, knowing even then that she lied. Still, she could think about how nice it would be without actually doing anything about it.
“Thanks again for coming tonight,” he said, ushering her inside and closing the door behind her. “Isabelle’s in the den, watching cartoons. She just finished her dinner. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Iced tea? Soda?”
“No, thank you.” It annoyed her that her words came out a bit too primly. She was trying too hard to keep this encounter polite and impersonal. She cleared her throat and attempted to speak more casually. “Have you made a list of questions for Mrs. Tuckerman?”
“Sort of a mental list.” He cocked his head as he studied her, still standing in the entryway. “I’ve never seen that dress on you. Is it new?”
Her automatic response was to smooth her hand down the skirt of the green knit dress she had worn for her meeting. Since when had Nathan been interested in her wardrobe? He’d never seemed to notice such things before, other than his habitual observations about how nice she looked—something he said to nearly everyone every morning. Casual compliments were a staple part of Nathan’s conversations, as automatic for him as breathing.
“Yes, it’s new.”
“It looks really good. The color makes your eyes shine. Have I ever mentioned that you have really beautiful eyes?”
Okay, way too personal. That was the kind of remark that made her go sort of shivery inside, which was definitely not the way to stay detached this evening. She dragged her gaze away from his face and glanced in the direction of the den. “Isabelle’s watching TV? I’ll go say hello to her.”
“Why does it make you so uncomfortable when I compliment you? Do you think I don’t notice how pretty you are?”
That brought her attention back to him. “
Now how am I supposed to answer that?”
“It was a fairly straightforward question, I think.” He reached out to toy with a strand of her hair, studying it as if he were trying to memorize the color and texture, though she sensed his attention was fully focused on her reactions to the questions he was asking. “Every time I try to tell you that I find you attractive, you get all gruff and flustered. Is it because you don’t know if I’m serious or because you aren’t interested in hearing it?”
“I think it would be better not to talk about attraction at all,” she said, and this time her tone was downright schoolmarmish.
“Why?”
She smothered a sigh. Did he have to make everything so difficult? “Because it could get sticky. We’re business partners. Colleagues.”
“Friends,” he added.
“Friends,” she conceded. “But that’s all.”
His fingers slid into her hair at the back of her neck. His face was very close now, his eyes boring so deeply into hers that she imagined he could see every wayward thought she was trying so hard to hide. “Not quite all,” he murmured.
Before she could move away, his mouth was on hers. And then she couldn’t move away.
She wanted to believe it was shock holding her immobile and not the fact that she had been wanting this kiss for so long. She wanted to believe it, but she knew better. She was perfectly capable of moving away, but, oh, heavens, she didn’t want to.
His mouth moved coaxingly on hers. His lips were warm and firm and skillful. Exactly as she had fantasized—and feared—his kiss would be. As she had feared even more, she knew their relationship would never be quite the same from this point on.
That same realization was in Nathan’s eyes when he drew back. Maybe a hint of the same what-have-we-done alarm.
The chime of the doorbell made them both almost jump out of their shoes.