Maura steeled herself, searching his eyes before tossing out an answer. He didn’t appear upset. In fact, his expression revealed nothing. “I don’t make it a habit of mixing business with my personal life. If I’d even alluded to the fact that I have a home life, I never would have landed the position I have. And you and I are business associates. You didn’t say we were on a date, and you didn’t ask about my personal life, so it didn’t come up.”
“Wow,” Rick shook his head, “if that wasn’t a PC answer, I don’t know what is. You should work in public relations.” He held up a hand. “But two things … One, do you mean that your direct supervisor doesn’t know you have a child?”
Maura shook her head, making sure she kept an eye on Ben. “No, Jessica doesn’t hire women who can’t dedicate every minute to her beck and call.”
His eyes narrowed at that information. But Rick was just a new hire, not even over Jessica’s department. He was in PR. Still … “Don’t get me wrong. I love working for Jessica. But believe me … If I ever had to call off or not work late because of my son, I’d never hear the end of it.”
“So what do you do? If Ben gets sick or something?”
“My cousin Brittany. She works out of the home. I don’t know how I’d manage without her. I don’t know how any mother manages on her own.” Her eyes drifted to Rick. Every word she’d spoken, she kept her eyes on her son. Yeah, there were hundreds of children, but she could never take the chance of losing her world. All that was left of her world.
Rick’s eyes lowered more than usual, causing a small vee to form between his brows. “Which brings me to my next point. Ben is obviously your life. You can’t even take your eyes off him long enough to have a conversation, which I understand. The world is a dangerous place. But in the last hour, I’ve seen how close the two of you are. No way that he isn’t on your mind all the time, so how did you spend three occasions with me without your son ever coming up?”
She glanced at Rick’s hazel eyes, golden and full of warmth, but then flicked her gaze back to the rink. “Ben’s my life. I pledged to never introduce him to a man unless I knew for a fact I was serious about him, and that I was absolutely positive that the man was a good influence and would never hurt my son.” Maura felt her eyes sting, but she blinked and kept her eyes on Ben. “We’re all we have.”
Rick took her hands in his. “His father …?”
She shook her head. “He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Gone.” Maura had thought she would be in less danger of falling if she stayed on the bench; it appeared she was wrong. She moved her hands out from beneath Rick’s warm hands in the pretense of tying up the skates. She finished and handed him her boots.
Without a word, he took her boots, his, and Ben’s to the lockers.
Maura draped her purse around her neck and stood on shaky legs. She made her way to the entrance, one timid step at a time. She stood at the wall, watching as Ben made his way around the rink. Seeing her, he sped toward her. As he passed, he held up his hand for a high-five.
She touched his hand. “Way to go, baby! You are a natural.” Just like your father, she thought. Ben definitely got his sense of balance from Big Ben.
Maura felt strong hands on her waist and warm breath on her neck. “You ready?”
His question felt loaded. Am I ready? “I’m not sure,” she said to both questions she heard.
“Come on. I won’t let you fall.”
She wanted to tell him how wrong he was. All he’d been doing was tempting her to fall … for him.
Rick took her hand and led her to the entrance. Inside, he instantly turned, skating backward. He reached for her hands, pulling her with him. “Just move with me.”
She looked down, afraid to tangle her skates with his — no way she wanted to tumble them both.
He lifted her head with their linked hands. “Don’t look down, Maura. Watch where you’re going, which is wherever I go, so keep your eyes on me. Whatever we focus on, that’s where our momentum takes us. If you focus on the ice, that’s where you’ll land.”
How true that is … in all things, it seems.
“Soften your knees,” Rick continued. “Center your weight. Keep your legs shoulder-width apart. Focus on the inside blade edges, and don’t let your knees buckle.”
“Got that part. I manage to stand. It’s moving and turning that knock me down.”
He smiled. “Do you bowl?”
“Uh … I have … Not great at bowling either.”
His smile widened. “Okay. You probably understand follow-through, though. It’s sort of natural when we bowl, as our mind is on the ball and the pins.”
She flicked her gaze to Ben, who’d been skating beside them. Her son smiled, encouraging her.
“Eyes on me,” Rick continued. “Ben’s fine. I’ll watch him, I promise. I want you to push out with your right foot, and hold. Follow through, as if you just released the bowling ball.”
She did, but felt silly, as if she were a child learning to skate.
“Now, the next leg — Stand straight. Don’t slouch. Remember your center of gravity and momentum. If you bend forward, you’ll fall forward.”
Maura alternated from leg to leg, continually reminding herself not to slouch.
Before the turn, he loosened his grip but stayed in front. “That same follow-through you’ve been using … I want you to cross with that right leg. Push off, follow-through, lift, cross.”
She usually just ran into the wall, then changed directions. She steadied her left leg, stood tall, pushed out with her right, then lifted the leg and followed through with a cross. “Oh, my! Hah! I did it.”
“Do it again.”
She crossed her left skate with her right several times until she made the full turn. “Hah! I can’t believe this!”
He lifted her hands again, pulling her faster. At the next turn, he held on but gave her room to take the turn with him.
“Mom! Look at you!” Ben spun, so he was skating backward. How do they do that?
“Eyes forward, Maura. Look at where you want to go.”
She smiled up at him. Where I want to go … “Thank you, Rick.”
“It’s my pleasure, believe me.”
He seemed to relax more, and so did she, but she liked him pulling her. With one quick turn, he was beside her. So fast, she hardly saw it. He still had her hand, but it was all her. She was skating entirely on her own.
That’s when the brisk air hit her.
It’d been cold all month, but in seconds, the temperature dropped.
She inhaled the cold air. It stung her throat, and then … she smelled it. Fresh, clean air. She lifted her face to the darkened sky, feeling the flakes as they fell on her eyes, cheeks, and forehead. Large fluffy flakes that were sure to stick. “Snow!”
Rick released her hand and moved in front of her. “I guess you owe me dinner. Well, you don’t owe me, and I plan to pay …”
“I guess I do.” She laughed. “But first, I want to skate.”
Ben approached again, offering her his hand. “Come on, Mom! Race with me.”
She laughed. “I don’t think I’m up for that, baby. Maybe Rick will race you.”
Ben looked to Rick, and he nodded. Ben released her hand. “I get a head start cuz I’m only eight.”
Rick moved past her. “Okay, I’ll give you half the rink. First one back to your mom wins, but don’t run into anyone.”
“I won’t.”
Her son took off.
Rick looked back at her. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Almost ready to race you both.”
Rick blew her a kiss, then turned his focus back on Ben.
Tears stung her eyes. Or maybe it was the icy air. Rick genuinely seemed to be enjoying himself. Not just with her, but also with her son.
Instead of continuing the circle, she glided toward the side, watching the two of them.
The low cloud ceiling blocked out the l
ittle bit of sun that had shone earlier, causing the lights to flick on. Every ten feet or so around the rink, tall white pillars with patinated copper arms held up dual lamps. The spiny trees, which looked skeletal when she’d arrived, had come to life with twinkling white lights, reminding her of her firefly-hunting days in North Carolina.
When Ben spotted her, he veered from the lane, tossing a look over his shoulder for Rick, who was gaining on him.
“Go, Ben, go!” she cheered.
Her son pushed off faster than she thought possible, heading straight for her, but Rick closed the distance quickly. In seconds, he was at Ben’s five o’clock.
With one more push, Ben reached her, turning sideways at the last second, spraying ice and snow. “I win!”
Rick followed right behind him. “You got me!”
“It’s snowing, Mom! That means Rick has to take us to dinner.”
Maura pressed her lips together to keep her smile at bay. It means Rick gets to take us to dinner, she wanted to correct, but all she said was, “Yes, I guess it does.”
After dinner, Rick drove in the direction of her apartment. When he reached her street, he slowed. “You’re going to have to give me your address, Maura,” Rick murmured, obviously recognizing that Ben had fallen asleep. “I’m not going to drop you off on the street.”
“Oh, yeah,” she whispered back. “It’s the fifth building on the right. You don’t have to park, just drop us off.”
He spied a spot half a block from her building. Most residents were home on Sunday nights, so slots were scarce. One of the only good things about not having a car is never having to find a parking spot. Or worse, pay to park a car in downtown Chicago.
“You really don’t have to park …”
He ignored her again, easily parallel parking the truck in the narrow spot. He turned off the engine, and she reached for the door handle.
He touched her arm, interrupting her escape. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”
Maura turned to Rick, then tossed a look at Ben, who was still asleep. She motioned her head to the door, indicating that they should get out of the car.
Rick opened his door, hopped out, quietly pressed the door closed, then hurried around the front of the vehicle.
Maura opened the passenger door, tested the concrete before stepping out, then gently touched the metal to the seal, meeting Rick on the snow-covered sidewalk. She looked up at the lamppost, watching how quickly the snow passed in front of the dim light. “If this doesn’t slow, we’re going to get several inches —”
He stepped in front of her. “Told you so.” His breath came out like a plume of smoke. He closed the few inches between them, his hands moving to her collar. “Are you cold?” He buttoned up the front.
She stared at his hands, then flicked her gaze to his face. “Not really.” He touched her cheek, and she closed her eyes. “I … I’m sorry. I can’t. My son …”
Rick looked around her shoulder, then peered up at her. “He’s still sleeping. And I have a sneaking suspicion he might be okay with us kissing.”
“He’s very protective of me.”
“As he should be. You’re worth protecting, Maura.”
“Rick …”
“Your son likes me, Maura, and I like him … And I like you a great deal.” He stepped back. “But I understand. As I said, my mother was a single mother, too.”
She nodded.
“You didn’t answer my question, Maura.”
“Hmm?” Her mind felt cloudy. Rick was too good to be true. Things didn’t go her way in life. Not with her parents. Not with her husband. Not the last three years in Chicago … This couldn’t be real. She shook her head to clear it. “Which question?”
“Can I see you tomorrow night?”
Confused, she shook her head again. “You are seeing me tomorrow … after work. We have to pack up all the gifts.”
“I mean after that. Can I take you out to dinner again? Someplace nice?”
Maura bit her lip. She’d already made plans to work late, assuming it would take most of the evening to box up the gifts. Rick was probably right about her son. Ben would tell her to go, that he didn’t need help with his homework, but still … “I’ll talk to Ben. If he doesn’t have a lot of homework, I’ll see if I can stay later.”
Rick nodded. And as much as she wanted to kiss his full lips, as much as she wanted him to sweep her up in her arms like some old movie, she turned away, immediately opening the rear door.
“Want me to carry him up?” Rick asked behind her.
Her eyes pricked again. Just the thought of Rick carrying Ben upstairs caused more chilly bumps than the imaginary kiss she’d just pictured. “No. He’s too big to carry. He falls asleep all the time on the bus. He’ll crash as soon as he hits the bed. Ben, honey, we’re home.”
Ben wiped his eyes and scooted out of the truck. He looked up at Rick, blinked, then flashed a sleepy smile. “Thank you for the ice skating and dinner.”
“You’re welcome, buddy. Maybe we can do it again.” Rick leaned toward him. “Your mom says you guys like baseball. Maybe I can take you when the season starts.”
Well, at least he didn’t ask Ben if she could go out tomorrow night. But the baseball thing again. Baseball was months away.
Ben’s smile widened. “Really?”
Rick nodded. “I got season passes and everything.”
“Cool!” Ben was suddenly wide awake.
Maura took his hand. “Thanks, Rick. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Rick dipped his head, and as much as Maura wanted to put Ben to bed and come rushing back down the stairs, she had to think of her son. She had to make sure this was right before she slipped any further.
Chapter 11
Nothing could ruin Maura’s day. Not only would she be focusing on her career by working on the project this evening, but she would also see Rick.
And he wanted to take her someplace nice. As though the three places he’d taken her already hadn’t been nice.
Nope. Nothing could spoil her mood. Even Jessica. Her boss was so caught up with an upcoming ski trip that, other than discussing this week’s schedule first thing this morning, she hadn’t shouted or texted since.
Maura stood so she could see Jim Johnson’s cubicle. Where is that man?
Tomorrow’s pieces were due by eleven a.m. He had left an hour before lunch and had yet to return.
She’d been wrong; Jim was the other person who could mess up her day. If he screwed up his article again, causing her to stay late — or worse, forcing her to return … Nope! She needed to make sure Jim’s piece was perfect.
Wanting to leave early so she could freshen up before her meeting with Rick, Maura had skipped lunch. Now, Jim was going to mess up her day, as he frequently did.
She sent him a text: Where are you?
She waited, tapped her boots, drummed her fingers. If only she were a tattletale. She should tell Jessica that Jim’s tardiness was the reason she didn’t spend as much time on his article. A lot of good it would do her. Jim could do no wrong in Jessica’s eyes.
Her phone buzzed.
Lunch
She rolled her eyes and typed: Lunch was two hours ago. You’ve been gone three. Did you finish your article?
I’ll send when I get back
Jim …
Maura He added a rolling eyes emoji.
Grr … So immature. I’m serious, Jim!
I am too I’m busy shopping for skis
“Skis?” she muttered. I thought you were going to North Carolina for Christmas.
Change of plan
Is your article finished? Can I get it from your computer?
Absolutely not! he texted back.
It was the first time he’d used punctuation, so she assumed the exclamation point didn’t mean that his piece wasn’t finished, but that she couldn’t go get it.
Defeated, she typed: When will you be back?
I’m in the elevator
�
��Heaven help me. That man is gonna drive me to drink,” she growled quietly, uttering the line her grandmother had grumbled a thousand times in the years she lived with her grandparents.
Maura leaned back as Jim strutted into the office.
Men. She stared daggers, hoping she could puncture his typing hand, so he’d have to quit.
Well, not all men. She assumed Rick must not pull this stuff, or the company wouldn’t have recruited him from L.A. Just thinking about Rick caused a bubble to rise in her chest as if she’d been drinking champagne, not the hard liquor that Jim’s actions made her want to down. Rick made her feel dizzily drunk, that first-few-sips warm.
As usual, Jim couldn’t just email her from his desk like the ten other journalists that worked their division. Nope. He had to make himself comfortable in her small cubicle. At least today, he’d chosen to sit in the chair instead of perching himself on her desk.
“You know …” He finished typing on his phone, then pocketed it. Her phone buzzed, so she assumed he’d sent his article. “You could have just told me you were seeing someone. You didn’t have to use the excuse that you don’t date fellow employees. That you weren’t interested in me.”
“Jim, get out,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not dating anyone.” So far, she wouldn’t refer to what she and Rick had been doing as dating. “I’m just not interested in you.”
He leaned over the desk. “Not interested in little ol’ journalists like me, of course you aren’t. You had your eyes on the boss’s son. I should have known you’d be first in line. But sleeping with the boss to get a raise, Maura … That’s not the sweet southern girl I thought I knew.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” she hissed. “For one, I don’t even know the boss … let alone his son.”
Squint-eyed, Jim dropped his head and stared at her. “You don’t know Enrique Barros?”
“Umm … again, none of your business, but if it gets you out of my office, no, I do not know an Enrique Barros.”
Jim snapped his fingers. “Oh, wait. I forgot. Technically, he’s Mr. Barros’s stepson. Although, the gossip mill speculates Enrique is Mr. Barros’s son since his mother was his maid —”
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