The Boss, The Baby And The Bride

by Day Leclaire

  “I know. I know. She has to be his true heart’s desire.” Angie smoothed the silky blond hair from the baby’s forehead. “But how am I supposed to get him to desire her, if he won’t even discuss it?”

  “Talking to yourself, Ms. Makepeace?”

  She glared at Scratch. “You could have warned me,” she muttered before pasting a pleasant expression on her face. “Did you need something, Mr. Harding?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, I need you.” He teased her with a heart-stopping smile. “In my office, that is. And Scratch did warn you. He always growls when I stop by your desk.”

  She swiveled to face him. “He’s still holding a grudge about your couch,” she explained. “You shouldn’t have covered it in plastic. He hates plastic.”

  “Gee. I’m crushed.” His gaze fell on Kip and a frown descended like a bank of threatening storm clouds. “That’s a baby.”

  She couldn’t help it. She grinned. “How observant of you.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  “It?” she repeated, lifting an eyebrow. “Kip is a boy, not an it. And he came from Casey. Well, her daughter to be exact. He’s Casey’s grandson.”

  Reed’s mouth tightened. “What are you doing with him?”

  “Baby-sitting while they’re at lunch. And before you get upset with her, I volunteered.” She lifted Kip to her shoulder, snuggling him close. He blew bubbles against her neck and she chuckled. “Slimy little critters, aren’t they?”

  A muscle in his jaw tensed and the storm broke, sweeping into his gaze with a ferocity that unnerved her. “Ms. Makepeace? In my office, please.”

  “With the baby?”

  His mouth thinned. “Unless your dog is capable of baby-sitting.”

  “Actually, Guardian Angels make the very best babysitters,” she admitted, standing. “But I’m not ready to give Kip up, yet.” Grabbing her steno pad and glasses, she preceded him into the office, carrying the chattering baby.

  Reed closed the door behind them. “Let me get that plastic out of your way and then you can sit on the couch.”

  “That’s okay...” Before he realized what she intended, Angie dumped the baby into his arms and took care of it herself. Settling onto the leather cushion, she flipped open her steno pad. “So what’s up?” She propped her glasses on the tip of her nose and peered at him over the wire rims.

  Reed held Kip away from his body as though the baby had dynamite in his diapers. “Er, Ms. Makepeace?” When she didn’t immediately reclaim his armload, his voice took on a more urgent tone. “Angie?”

  “Would you mind?” she asked sweetly. “I have to take notes. Now... What precisely am I taking notes about?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to part with the kid.”

  “If you won’t hold him, put him out with Scratch.”

  Her suggestion went over just as she’d predicted. He hesitated a further moment before reluctantly taking the chair opposite her and dangling Kip from one knee. “I wanted to discuss this weekend with you—make sure everything’s arranged.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Don’t you like children?”

  “I like them just fine. And don’t change the subject.”

  “Then why don’t you want to hold Kip?”

  He didn’t answer. But a myriad of emotions chased across his face, rousing her curiosity. Resistance was uppermost and an expression that could have been anguish. Most interesting of all, though, was the unmistakable yearning that betrayed him every time he looked at Kip’s innocent face or cupped a large, protective hand around the baby’s plump body.

  Moved beyond words, she buried her nose in her steno pad. “It’s the conference for the American Contractors Association, right?” she forced herself to ask. “The one in Chicago?”

  “Yes. My previous secretary booked us two rooms. Check the file. There should be a confirmation from the hotel. If not, call them and make sure we have reservations.”

  “Which hotel is it?”

  He turned Kip to face him. The baby grabbed a fistful of chambray shirt, crumpling it in his damp hand. A faint smile creased Reed’s face. “It’s the Grand Majesty.”

  “Oh,” she murmured faintly. “I didn’t realize.”

  “Oh?” Reed lifted an eyebrow, momentarily distracted from the baby. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

  She busied herself taking notes. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ve forgotten all about that other little incident.”

  “What other little incident?”

  “The one that happened when I worked there.”

  She glanced up to see how he’d taken that tiny nugget of information. Not well, if his frown was anything to go by. He lifted the baby to his shoulder and Angie snatched her gaze from the sight of Reed’s dark head tilted so close to Kip’s pale curls. She fought to breathe, to hide the shaft of sorrow that pierced her.

  She would never know the joy of motherhood. She’d never watch her husband smile at their child’s sweet face the way Reed smiled at Kip. It had never bothered her so desperately before. Until now.

  “You used to work at the Grand?” he asked.

  She forced her attention to the matter at hand. “Briefly. Very briefly—fortunately for them. I believe my replacement corrected the situation, so they shouldn’t be too mad anymore.” Poor Chuck. She wondered how long it had taken him to repair all the damage. She risked another glance in Reed’s direction, relieved to discover her sorrow had eased somewhat. “I’d tell you about it, except that rule number three prevents me from going into more detail.”

  Reed groaned. “I thought we’d put a rest to that nonsense.”

  “I agreed I wouldn’t discuss it anymore.” She widened her eyes in mock innocence. “Unless you’d care to bring it up. Since you’re the boss, you’re at liberty to break any rule you want.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass,” he retorted dryly. “I assume you’ll leave Scratch behind? That won’t be a problem?”

  “Well,” she hedged. “I’m not sure what his plans are for this weekend. I’ll need to discuss it with him first.”

  To her alarm, his jaw clenched, though he spoke calmly enough. “I’d appreciate it if you’d convince him to remain behind. Perhaps he could stay with Joel.”

  “I’ll suggest it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Time to move the discussion to new ground. “What sort of clothes will I need?”

  “Business attire. A cocktail dress or two. Casual clothes for Saturday’s picnic. And a bathing suit.” To Reed’s utter astonishment, the color drained from her face and he was grateful that he held the baby instead of Angie.

  “A bathing suit?” she repeated faintly.

  “There’s a lake where we picnic and—”

  “I don’t swim.”

  He shrugged. “Then don’t go in the water. But you might bring along a suit in case you want to go wading.”

  “I won’t.” She stood, clutching her notebook to her chest in a white-knuckle grip. “Is that it? I have work to do.”

  He stood, as well. “Now why is an angel afraid of a little ol’ lake?” he questioned softly. “I wouldn’t think you’d be afraid of anything.”

  “You’d be amazed by what I feel. Fear of water is one.” She eyed the baby. “Regret for roads not taken is another.”

  “Don’t go there,” he warned.

  But she didn’t listen. Hell. When did she ever? The passion vibrated from her like a chord pitched too high, threatening to shatter the fragile hold she kept on her emotions. “You don’t know how lucky you are. Do you have any idea what I’d give to have a future? To have the choices still open to you?”

  “Angie, please—”

  But she didn’t stop, couldn’t in all likelihood. “You have a chance, Reed. A change to have it all—love, marriage, children. I’ll never know that. Not ever. But you—” She lifted her gaze to his, her pain a living entity. The sunniness that normally filled her eyes had take
n on the tint of twilight, gathering in the bruised shades of indigo that appeared just as dusk smothered the final rays of light. “You could have it all and instead—” Her voice broke and she darted forward, scooping Kip into her arms and burying her face against his powder-fresh neck.

  “You don’t understand,” he managed to say, knowing full well he couldn’t explain. Not about Emily, not about the torment that had plagued him for the past two years. Holding Kip was as much a torture for him as it was for her. He might have a child out there somewhere. A son like Kip or a daughter whose face remained a mystery.

  A child without a father.

  “You’re right,” she whispered. “I don’t understand. And I never will.”

  Without another word, she stalked from the room and he watched her every step of the way. Her platinum curls continued to bounce provocatively about her shoulders. The sway of her hips still turned a simple red skirt into an emergency beacon. Somehow she managed to balance those endless legs on top of three-inch spikes while carrying a wriggling baby. But for the first time, he saw a crack in her breezy confidence.

  And he was the cause.

  “You sure they won’t remember you?” Reed asked as they entered the lobby of the Grand Majesty Hotel.

  Angie grinned. “Oh, they’ll remember me, all right.”

  Stupid question. Who the hell could forget her? “I thought you said—”

  She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and slanted those bewitching blue eyes in his direction. “I said they wouldn’t hold it against me.”

  “Hold what against you?”

  “Just a teeny little flood.” She dismissed his concern with a flick of her fingers and continued toward the reception desk. “It’s hardly worth mentioning.”

  “A flood?”

  “A sprinkler malfunction.” She sighed. “Who’d have thought.”

  Before he could ask any further questions, they reached the reception desk. The man standing behind the marble counter took one look at Angie and turned white. “Ms. Makepeace!”

  “Why, hello, Tick. How’s business?”

  “Better, thank you. Much better.” A muscle jerked in his cheek. “You’re not staying here, are you?”

  “’Fraid so,” she admitted cheerfully. “But don’t worry. I’ll keep my hands off the plumbing.”

  The clerk’s mouth relaxed into a tiny smile. “The owners will be so pleased to hear that.”

  She leaned across the counter toward him, dropping her voice confidentially. “I assume Chuck fixed everything?”

  To Reed’s amusement, Tick unbent slightly. “Mr. Cross did a remarkable job,” he confided. “We only had to tear down a small section of the hotel.”

  “Well, then. That’s good, right?”

  “A miracle.”

  Angie nodded in total understanding. “Chuck excels at those.”

  Reed groaned silently. Aw, hell, not more angel talk. “Do you think we could register?” he interrupted.

  Tick’s eyes widened in alarm. “Of course, sir. Is the reservation in the name of Makepeace?”

  “No,” Reed corrected. “The reservation is in the name of Harding. Two rooms.”

  “I confirmed it yesterday,” Angie added.

  The clerk punched away at his computer. “Ah, yes. I have it right here. Hey, Angie!” He shot a guilty look toward Reed. “I mean...Ms. Makepeace. You’ve been upgraded to a two-bedroom suite. No additional cost.”

  “Why, thank you, Tick. That’s very sweet of you.”

  “Mr. Jenson must still have a soft spot for you,” the clerk whispered. “This is his authorization code.”

  Angie lowered her voice, as well. “I’ll be sure to thank him.”

  Reed drummed his fingers on the marble counter. “Mr. Jenson? Who’s he?”

  “One of the owners,” she volunteered. “He was my tenth—no, I take that back. He was my eleventh mission. An utter failure, but I can’t blame him for that.”

  “Of course not.” Reed swept up the envelope with their card keys and eyed Tick. “Have our luggage brought up as soon as possible.”

  “Right away, sir. And enjoy your visit. If there’s anything we can do to make your stay more enjoyable, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “I’ll do that.” Picking up his briefcase and the bag containing his laptop computer, he glanced at Angie. “Ready?”

  “All set.” She smiled at the clerk. He proved as susceptible as every other male Reed had seen. He grinned back with all the fervor of a lovesick puppy. If he’d had a tail, he’d be wagging it clean off. “I’ll talk to you later, Tick.”

  “Absolutely. Have a nice stay.”

  “So what were you supposed to do for Jenson?” Reed asked as they walked to the bank of elevators. “Find the poor guy a wife, too?”

  She pushed the call button. “Are we officially breaking rule number three?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Okay. Just checking.” She faced him, folding her arms across her chest. “No, to answer your question. I wasn’t assigned to find Mr. Jenson a wife. He already has one. Millie’s a real darling, too, which made it all the more upsetting when I failed them.”

  The elevator doors parted and they entered the glass-paneled car. “So what was your mission?”

  “To convince Mr. Jenson to let his grandson take over the management of the hotel. There was only one tiny problem. The more I tried to help, the worse trouble I caused poor Ralph.”

  “Heaven help him.”

  “They tried.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, they sent me. And my execution proved a bit flawed.”

  “Ralph didn’t make a good manager?”

  “Don’t misunderstand. He’s an incredibly smart man. But he had a slight problem with authority.”

  “He didn’t like taking orders?”

  “No, not that.” She darted him a quick, brittle smile. “He didn’t like giving them.”

  “So how did you resolve the problem?”

  A shadow drifted across her face, stealing the amusement from her expression. “I didn’t.” The doors opened and they stepped from the elevator. “Chuck had to take over when the hotel flooded.”

  Reed approached the door to their suite and inserted the card into the locking mechanism. “And why did the hotel flood? You never mentioned.”

  “I thought if there were an emergency situation, Ralph would be forced to give orders.”

  The lock released and Reed opened the door. “And instead?”

  She sighed. “Instead, he panicked. Rather than getting the water turned off, he called for help. By the time the fire department arrived, the damage was done.”

  “And then?”

  “And then Goodenkind removed me from the assignment and sent Charles CrosstoBear in my place.”

  Reed lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. “CrosstoBear?”

  “He’s assigned to cleanup.”

  “Very amusing, Ms. Makepeace.”

  “It’s true!”

  “And you never lie.”

  “Never.”

  “Stretch the truth a little, perhaps?”

  She set her chin at a stubborn angle. “Not at all. It’s not acceptable.”

  Reed let it go and turned his attention to the suite. “Nice place. It must be convenient having friends in high places.”

  “Sometimes. Oh, and look!” She crossed to the sitting area. A large basket of fruit topped the coffee table. “I’ll bet it’s from Mr. Jenson.”

  “Generous of him.”

  She opened the card and shook her head. “Seems I’m wrong. They’re from Ralph and—Good gracious. He married little Ruthie Evans, the concierge. That must have been Chuck’s doing.” She tapped the card with her fingernail. “Now why didn’t I think of that? She’ll make a perfect wife, too. She never gets ruffled in a crisis.”

  “There’s that word again.”

  Angie looked up, startled. “What word?”

  “Wife.”

  Comprehension dawne
d and she smiled. “Did you think that was a not-so-subtle way of bringing up the subject?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Was it?”

  “Not at all. I—”

  “Good. Before you change your mind, I’m going to get ready for my first meeting.” He checked his briefcase and pulled out a file, dropping it onto the coffee table next to the fruit basket. “Why don’t you go ahead and set up my laptop and see about typing the notes in that file. I should return around five, six at the Iatest. There’s a banquet tonight, so wear one. of your formal dresses.”

  “Reed?”

  He glanced at her, his hazel eyes filled with warning. “What?”

  “I wasn’t going to bring it up,” she said seriously. “One of these days maybe you’ll believe me when I tell you something. I don’t lie. Remember?”

  “Maybe I should write that down.” Some of the tension eased from his expression. “I have to go.”

  “I’ll be here when you get back,” she promised.

  An odd smile slanted across his mouth. “You know... I could get used to hearing that.” Snapping closed his briefcase, he left.

  But long after he’d gone, Angie still stood motionless in the middle of the room, forced to face the distressing realization. She could get used to saying it, too.

  “Angie.”

  She drifted awake, pulled to consciousness against her will. “What? Who’s there?”

  “Your assignment, Ms. Makepeace. It’s almost at an end.”

  “Good? Is that you?”

  She sat up, amazed to discover that she’d nodded off at the sitting room table while typing up Reed’s notes. She couldn’t remember ever having slept before—at least, not since becoming an angel. A faint tremor disrupted the air nearby and she could just make out Goodenkind’s outline materializing beside her. That fact alone unnerved her. He’d never visited in the course of an assignment before. She’d always been brought to him.

  “Your time is almost through,” he said.

  “But—but I’m not finished.”

  “That doesn’t matter, my dear. You’ve had ample opportunity to complete your mission. Dotty DoGooder can take over. Come home, now.”