“Ms. Maxwell, this is Mrs. Alexander, the director of Playful Tots Preschool.”
The director? David’s heartbeat quickened. “Yes? Is something wrong?”
Mrs. Alexander gave a heavy sigh. “Well, Ms. Maxwell, I’m afraid there’s a little problem with Gabrielle.”
CHAPTER 2
As Davia stood looking out her second-story bedroom window at the dark blue Mercedes sedan parking in front of her house, she got angry all over again. She was sure that the car belonged to the man she had spoken to about an hour ago. What a jerk! He had been arrogant and defensive when she said what she had to say about his niece Bianca Thomas, and she didn’t care whether he liked it or not. She wasn’t one to be intimidated. After all, it wasn’t her Gabby who had bitten his niece, but vice versa.
The call from the preschool informing her that Gabby had been bitten had prompted Davia to leave her office immediately and hurry to the school. There she found her four-year-old in tears, with bite marks marring her smooth chocolate brown arm. Davia had been outraged, and after expressing those sentiments to Mrs. Alexander, she demanded that her name and number be given to the parents of the bully who had attacked her baby. She wanted to hear from them immediately regarding this incident. Then she had hustled Gabby off to Dr. Goodall, the child’s pediatrician, where Gabby had received a tetanus shot to prevent infection, a Mickey Mouse Band-Aid to cover the bite marks, and a sucker to stop the tears. Gabby left the doctor’s office happily licking what for her was a rare treat.
Now, settled in her room playing with her dolls, Gabby had all but forgotten the incident, but Davia hadn’t. When the uncle called, she had demanded that she speak to the little girl’s parents. He had explained to her that Bianca’s mother was out of town and that he was acting as surrogate parent. He had suggested that he bring Bianca to Davia’s house so that all accusations about the biting incident could be resolved.
Davia hadn’t liked the way he’d said “so that all accusations about this biting incident can be resolved.” There was an unspoken implication that all wasn’t as it seemed. Yet the evidence was clear. Gabby was the innocent victim here and an apology was expected, as well as a check for the doctor’s bill. And there should be no question that his niece would be reprimanded in some way. Yes, indeed, the “biting incident” would be resolved, today!
* * *
As Justin Miles stood on the front porch of the Maxwell house waiting for a response to the doorbell, he tried to remain calm. He was a man on a mission. This woman had accused his niece of biting her child, and he wasn’t having it.
Justin’s gray-green eyes glanced down at the four-year-old standing beside him, her tiny hand holding his so trustingly. He could feel the anger he had been repressing resurface as she looked up at him. She looked so much like his sister, Vanessa, who was eight years his junior. He had adored his baby sister from the moment she was born, and her daughter, Bianca, was no less adored. Her pretty face was honey brown and her eyes the same soft brown as Vanessa’s. Her auburn hair held the same mass of waves and curls, and her smile was just as engaging. Bianca was his heart. There was no way in hell that some crazy woman was going to put the rap for this on his girl. He pinched her soft cheek and gave her a confident wink.
Who was this woman anyway? She had to be some busybody with nothing else to do but pick on little kids. He rang the doorbell once more and then turned to survey the neighborhood.
The Maxwell house was a two-story, red brick contemporary structure. A white wraparound porch to the left of the etched glass front door was draped in a canopy of red and yellow roses. Colorful flowers of every assortment were intermingled with well-trimmed shrubbery in the large front yard and lined the delicate curve of the winding walkway leading from the porch to the sidewalk. The house fit well into this neighborhood of costly, custom-built homes.
The subdivision in which the house was located was known as Ashland Heights, an enclave of upwardly mobile professionals, or, as his mother snobbishly referred to them, the “nouveau rich wannabe crowd.” BMW, Lexus and Mercedes Benz were the cars to own in this neighborhood, where lawns were professionally landscaped and gardeners were hired to tend to them. This Mrs. Maxwell was probably an older woman with way too much time on her hands. Well, he was a busy man, and the sooner this nonsense was settled, the better.
With renewed determination he was about to ring the doorbell again when a feminine voice on the other side of the door inquired, “Who is it?”
Justin recognized the voice as the same one he had heard earlier on the telephone. “It’s Justin Miles, Mrs. Maxwell, Bianca’s uncle. You were expecting me.”
He could hear the locks on the door being disengaged—there were at least two of them—and then the front door slowly opened.
Justin blinked once, twice, then blinked again. This couldn’t be who he had been talking to over the telephone. She didn’t look anything like what he imagined. The woman standing before him had a flawless complexion the color of burnt almonds. Her dark eyes were luminous. Her eyelashes were long, thick and luxurious. Her eyebrows were perfectly arched. High, sharp cheekbones gave her oval face an exotic appearance, and her lips spoke of the drums of Africa. They were large, pouty and perfect. The jet-black hair that framed her oval-shaped face was cut close to her head in sculptured waves of velvet. Dainty gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears. She stood about five feet, five inches to his six feet, three inches, and every inch of her was stacked. If this was the caustic Mrs. Maxwell, she was beautiful, and every hormone in Justin’s body was acutely aware of it. His mouth went dry as he tried to speak.
“Oh, hi.” The sound was more like a croak than a greeting. He gave it another try.
“Uh, I…I…” What was wrong with him? He was stammering like an idiot! Justin swallowed, took a breath and tried again. “I’m Justin Miles, I called earlier. Are you Mrs. Maxwell?”
There, he’d finally got the words out. He had to remember he was here for Bianca no matter what this woman looked like. Reeling in his spiraling hormones, he regained his self-control.
“I’m Ms. Maxwell.”
She stood patiently, arms folded under her breasts. Her stance was assertive, as if she was ready and waiting to lock horns. Okay, he was ready, too. He hadn’t come here to play games and he didn’t care how pretty she was, he was going to take care of business and she wasn’t going to distract him.
Justin looked down into the face of his little niece, who looked from one adult to the other, trying to make sense of what was happening. He squeezed her hand, reassuring her that everything was all right.
Not knowing what else to do to recover from this debacle, Justin gently nudged his little one forward. “This is Bianca, Mrs. Maxwell, my niece.”
A smile tugged at those pouty lips that had Justin in a daze and Davia bent down to the child’s level and stuck out her hand.
“Hello, Bianca. I’ve seen you at the school. It’s very nice meeting you.”
Bianca shook Davia’s hand and answered with a shy hello. Davia rose and turned her attention back to Justin.
“And as I said, the name is Ms. Maxwell, not Mrs.” Each syllable was pronounced slowly and distinctly, as if he were incapable of comprehending.
The warm feelings he held toward this woman a second ago instantly vanished. Justin raised a brow. Oh, so it was like that, was it? The lady wanted to show a little attitude. All right, he could deal with that. “Well, Ms. Maxwell about this biting incident that occurred at the preschool today—”
“Davia, who was at the door?”
A female voice came from inside the house and Justin glanced over the woman’s shoulder in the doorway to see another attractive woman in her late forties or early fifties approaching the door. Bouncing down the stairway was a chocolate brown child, about Bianca’s age. Her hair was braided in cornrows and she wore round, wire-framed glasses. The woman reached the doorway first and stared up at him curiously.
Justin gave her his
most ingratiating smile. “Hello, I’m Justin Miles…”
“Bianca!”
The delightful squeal of the little girl who had squeezed her small body between the two women in the doorway interrupted his introduction. He looked down to see the girl greeting his niece like a long-lost relative. Obviously, this child wasn’t the little psychopath who had accused his Bianca of biting her.
“Gabby!” Bianca’s childish voice rang out in equal excitement, quickly squashing that theory.
“Did you come over to play with me?” Gabby gushed, excited by the prospect.
Bianca nodded her head vigorously. “Uh-huh.”
Needing no further prompting, Gabby tried to pull Bianca past the front door and into the house. Justin resisted the effort, tightening his hold on Bianca’s hand. Both children looked up at him as if he were the enemy.
The older woman broke the mounting tension and extended her hand. “I’m Reba Fray, housekeeper, nanny, jack of all trades.”
“I’m Justin Miles.” He shook her hand firmly, slightly unnerved by the fact that she was looking at him as if he were this evening’s dessert. Her eyes slowly raked over his body, taking careful note of the wide shoulders draped in a tailored sports coat. She noted the knit shirt that was molded to the lines of his broad chest and the finely creased jeans that fit his narrow waist and hips. Her eyes returned to his face, obviously pleased with what she saw.
Justin cleared his throat, ignoring her perusal as his attention turned back to his hostess. “Uh, Ms. Maxwell, I’m—”
“Come in, Mr. Miles,” Davia interrupted him, somewhat unnerved by the startling gray-green eyes set in his cinnamon brown face.
“Yes, do come in,” Reba said suggestively as they both stepped aside to let him enter.
Reba’s manner was too flirtatious for Davia, and she gave her a warning look, which her employee pointedly ignored. The woman had no shame. It had taken all of Davia’s willpower not to elbow the brazen flirt. She was openly devouring the man. Reba might not care if some child took a bite out of Gabby, but she did, and this was the culprit’s uncle. This was no time to fraternize with the enemy. Silently, she led the man and his niece through the house to the family room.
As they walked across the buffed parquet flooring of the foyer, Justin noted that Mrs. Fray turned to the left and, tossing a parting smile his way, disappeared into what was likely her bedroom. Meanwhile, Justin and Bianca continued behind Gabby and Ms. Maxwell. Every step he took tested the strength of his willpower as he tried to ignore the gentle sway of the lady’s curvaceous hips.
She was dressed in yellow knit leggings and a matching sweater. The outfit was becoming, but not provocative, yet it was difficult to camouflage her body’s firm, rounded curves, which called to him with every movement. Justin inhaled. What he was thinking in regard to Ms. Maxwell was less than gentlemanly. He had to remember that he was here on serious business. Now, if he concentrated real hard, he might be able to keep his eyes from straying.
He turned his attention to his surroundings. As they walked through the foyer toward the back of the house, he noted a large dining area to the right of the entranceway. A glass table dominated the room, surrounded by numerous dining chairs upholstered in pale yellow silk. Past the stairway—which Gabby and Bianca tried to take before the two adults stopped them—the quartet stepped down into a breathtaking family room with a cathedral ceiling that extended to the second floor. Light streamed into the room from skylights above. A stained glass rose was etched into each skylight. A set of French doors looked out onto a patio and beyond to a garden filled with an array of flowers.
The room they were in was decorated in shades of mint green, accented with yellow. Justin took a seat on a floral love seat as directed and wondered if Ms. Maxwell had done the decorating. It appeared to have been done with a careful eye for detail. It made him wonder if she put such care into everything that she did. Realizing that his thoughts were drifting back to the delectable Ms. Maxwell, he forced himself to remember his goal—clearing his niece’s name.
Davia watched with interest as Justin squared his shoulders. She read the move as an indication of his resolve to defend his niece’s actions. She chose to ignore the look of male interest in his eyes. If he thought that charm would sway her from getting justice for Gabby, he was sadly mistaken. It was true that Mr. Justin Miles, with his wavy brown hair, gray-green eyes and neatly trimmed goatee was a handsome man. But good-looking men were a dime a dozen. She knew what they wanted. Mr. Miles didn’t stir her interest at all.
Davia sat on the love seat opposite Justin and restrained Gabby, who wanted to join Bianca, who sat next to her uncle. As the four of them faced each other, it was clear that the adults had drawn an invisible battle line.
“May I offer you and Bianca something to drink, Mr. Miles?” Davia’s manner was formal. She was determined to be civil.
“No, thank you.” Justin was just as formal. “I think that we should get to the matter at hand.”
“You mean Bianca biting Gabby.”
“I mean Gabby accusing Bianca of biting her.”
Davia’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, is she denying it?”
Justin’s eyebrows knitted together. “Most certainly.”
Davia’s face hardened. “Then it looks as if you have two problems on your hands.”
Justin’s nostrils flared. “No, I don’t think so.”
Davia snorted. “Then I guess that you’re suggesting that Gabby bit herself, twice.”
Justin grunted. “You said it, I didn’t.”
All attempts at civility were rapidly disappearing. Davia’s jaws tightened.
“I assure you, Mr. Miles, that although you might have had the experience with your niece, my Gabby is not in the habit of self-mutilation.”
Justin’s eye’s flashed. “And I assure you, Ms. Maxwell, that my niece has not acquired that habit either, nor has she taken up the habit of cannibalism.”
The two adults stared at each other with mounting hostility, while the two confused children looked from one adult to the other in growing alarm. Wanting to escape the escalating tension, Gabby broke the momentary silence.
“You want to go to my room and play, Bianca? We don’t have to play vampires this time. We can play with my dolls.”
Bianca’s hopeful “okay” came a split second before Gabby’s words became apparent to both Davia and Justin.
“Vampires?”
The girls jumped, startled at the simultaneous reactions. The wide-eyed looks of both girls as they glanced first at each other then back at the adults made it clear. There was much more to the story of the teeth marks on Gabby’s arm than met the eye.
CHAPTER 3
Davia watched Justin Miles and his niece drive away from her house, then closed the front door behind them. How in the world did she get herself into these situations? She’d had to eat crow after the girls’ revelation, and it didn’t taste good at all, but thank goodness she didn’t have to eat it alone. Mr. Justin Miles had his mouth full of crow as well.
With a disgusted sigh, she pulled herself away from the door and watched as a contrite Gabby made an attempt to scurry up the stairs before she could be stopped. She didn’t quite make it.
“Gabrielle!”
Davia’s tone of censure halted her in midstride. It also brought Reba out of her room, but Gabby was the last thing on her mind.
“Girl! Was that not a hunk of man?”
Davia ignored her. Reba’s hormones were always raging, but she didn’t have time to address them at the moment. “Gabrielle Stephanie Maxwell, come here right now!”
“Uh-oh.” Reba glanced at the child dragging reluctantly toward the stern-faced adult. Gabby knew that being addressed by her whole name by either one of the two women before her meant big trouble.
The child walked as if she were approaching the gallows. With each step, the quivering lips became more pronounced. By the time she stood in front of Davia, she was ready
to erupt into full-blown crying. She hung her head and threw in a loud sniff to evoke as much sympathy as possible. It didn’t work. Davia lifted Gabby’s chin, urging the little girl to look at her.
“Do you want to explain why you didn’t tell me the truth?”
Reba gasped. “You mean she lied to you about the girl biting her?”
Gabby dropped her eyes, unable to look at either adult. Usually she could find an ally in Ms. Reba, but not today. She had lied. Or at least, she hadn’t told the whole truth. The three of them had made a pinkie promise that in this household they would always tell each other the truth. A tear of shame slid down her round cheek.
“Do you want to tell Ms. Reba how you got those bite marks?” Davia’s voice was firm.
Gabby shook her head. “No, Grommy,” she answered, using the nickname that she had been calling Davia since the little girl learned to talk.
“Why not?”
Gabby sniffed and the trickle of tears became a flow. “Because I didn’t tell the whole truth, and I don’t want Ms. Reba to know that I broke our promise to each other.”
“So you know that you were wrong in letting Grommy believe that Bianca was the only one who bit you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And what do you have to say to me, and to Ms. Reba? She’s upset about this, too.”
“I’m sorry.”
The dam burst as Gabby began to sob, throwing her arms around Davia’s legs in total submission. Davia fought the urge to pick her up and cuddle her. She hated to see Gabby cry, but she couldn’t give in this time. Stressing the value of honesty was much too important. Truth was paramount in any relationship, and it was a lesson that Gabby must learn.
Bending down to the child’s level, she kissed her tear-stained cheek. “I accept your apology, baby, and you know I’ll always love you, but I want you to go up to your room and think about what you did. I’ll tell you when you can come out.”
With a nod Gabby retreated to her room, still crying, while Reba followed Davia through the house into the family room.
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