His Pregnant Princess Bride
Page 19
How had he thought she was plain? To conceal his surprise, he bent his head and scratched a series of numbers on a slip of paper. Sliding it across the desk, he made his tone flat...professional. “Here’s the salary. You can start Monday.”
When she saw the amount, Libby’s chin wobbled.
He frowned. “It’s not a lot, but I think it’s fair.”
She bit her lip. “Of course it’s fair. I was just thinking about how much money my family used to spend.”
“Is it hard?” he asked quietly. “Having to scrimp after a lifetime of luxury?”
“Yes.” She tucked the paper in her pocket. “But not in the way you think. The difficult part has been finding out how little I knew about the real world. My parents sheltered me...spoiled me. I barely knew how to cook or how much a gallon of milk cost. I guess you could say I was basically useless.”
Feeling his neck get hot, he reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers before releasing her. Something about Libby brought out his protective instincts. “No one is useless, Libby. You’ve had a hell of a year. I’m very sorry about your mother.”
She grimaced, her expression stark. “Thank you. I suppose I should tell you it wasn’t entirely a surprise. I’d been taking her back and forth to therapy sessions for weeks. She tried the suicide thing twice after my father’s trial. I don’t know if it was being without him that tormented her or the fact that she was no longer welcome in her social set, but either way, her pain was stronger than her need to be with me.”
“Suicide never makes sense. I’m sure your mother loved you.”
“Thank you for the vote of support.”
Patrick was impressed. Libby had every right to feel sorry for herself. Many women in her situation would latch onto the first available meal ticket...anything to maintain appearances and hang on to the lifestyle of a wealthy, pampered young socialite.
Libby, though, was doing her best to be independent.
“My mother thinks the world of you, Libby. I think she always wanted a daughter.”
“I don’t know what I would have done without her.”
Silence fell suddenly. Both of them knew that the only reason Patrick had agreed to interview Libby was because Maeve Kavanagh had insisted. Still, Patrick wasn’t going to go back on his word. Not now.
It wouldn’t take long for Libby to realize that she wasn’t cut out for the rigorous physical challenges that awaited her at Silver Reflections. Where Charlise had been an athlete and outdoorswoman for most of her life, Libby was a pale, fragile flower, guaranteed to wilt under pressure.
* * *
Over the next two weeks, Patrick had cause to doubt his initial assessment. Libby dived into learning her new responsibilities with gusto. She and Charlise bonded almost immediately, despite the fact that they had little in common, or so it seemed.
Charlise raved about Libby’s natural gifts for hospitality. And the fact that Libby was smart and focused and had little trouble learning the computer system and a host of other things Charlise considered vital to running Silver Reflections.
On the second Friday morning Libby was on his payroll, Patrick cornered Charlise in her office and shut the door. “Well,” he said, leaning against the wall. “Is she going to be able to handle it?”
Charlise reclined in her swivel chair, her amply rounded belly a match for her almost palpable aura of contentment. “The girl’s a natural. We’ve already had four clients who have rebooked for future dates based on their interactions with Libby. I can honestly say that I’m going to be able to walk away from here without a single qualm.”
“And the outdoor component?”
Charlise’s glow dimmed. “Well, maybe a tiny qualm.”
“It’s one thing to run this place like a hotel. But you and I both know we work like dogs when we take a group out in the woods.”
“True. But Libby has enthusiasm. That goes a long way.”
“Up until a year ago I imagine she was enjoying pedicures at pricey Park Avenue salons. Hobnobbing with Fortune 500 executives who worked with her dad. It’s a good bet she never had anyone steal her lunch money.”
Charlise gave him a loaded look. “You’re a Kavanagh, Patrick. Born with a silver spoon and everything that goes with it. Silver Reflections is your baby, but you could walk away from it tomorrow and never have to work another day in your life.”
“Fair enough.” He scratched his chin. “There’s one other problem. I told Libby that she would have to dress the part if she planned to work here. But she’s still wearing her deliberately frumpy skirts and sweaters. Is that some kind of declaration of independence? Did I make a faux pas in bringing up her clothing?”
“Oh, you poor, deluded man.”
“Why does no one around here treat me with respect?”
Charlise ignored his question. “Your mother offered to buy Libby a suitable wardrobe, but your newest employee is independent to say the least. She’s waiting to go shopping until this afternoon when she gets her first paycheck.”
“Oh, hell.”
“Exactly.”
“Wait a minute,” he said. “Why can’t she wear the clothes she had when her dad went to prison? I’ll bet she owned an entire couture wardrobe.”
“She did,” Charlise said, her expression sober. “And she sold all those designer items to pay for her mom’s treatments. Apparently the sum total of what she owns can now fit into two suitcases.”
Patrick seldom felt guilty about his life choices. He did his best to live by a code of honor Maeve had instilled in all her boys. Do the right thing. Be kind. Never let ambition trump human relationships.
He had hired Libby. Now it was time to let her know she had his support.
* * *
Libby was in heaven. After months of wallowing in uncertainty and despair, now having a concrete reason to get up every morning brought her something she hadn’t found in a long time...confidence and peace.
For whatever reason, Patrick Kavanagh had made himself scarce during Libby’s first two weeks. He’d left the training and orientation entirely up to Charlise. Which meant Libby didn’t constantly have to be looking over her shoulder. With Charlise, Libby felt relaxed and comfortable.
They had hit it off immediately. So much so that Libby experienced a pang of regret to know Charlise wouldn’t be coming back after today. Just before five, Libby went to Charlise’s office holding a small package wrapped in blue paper printed with tiny airplanes. Charlise and her accountant husband were looking forward to welcoming a fat and healthy baby boy.
Libby knocked at the open door. “I wanted to give you this before you go.”
Charlise looked up from her chore of packing personal items. Her eyes were shiny with tears. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. You’ve been so patient with me, and I appreciate it. Are you okay? Is anything wrong?”
Charlise reached for a tissue and blew her nose. “No. I don’t know why I’m so emotional. I’m very excited about the baby, and I want to stay at home with him, but I love Silver Reflections. It’s hard to imagine not coming here every day.”
“I’ll do my best to keep things running smoothly while you’re gone.”
“No doubts on that score. You’re a smart cookie, Libby. I feel completely confident about leaving things in your hands.”
“I hope you’ll bring the baby to see us when the weather is nice.”
“You can count on it.” She opened the gift slowly, taking care not to rip the paper. “Oh, Libby, this is beautiful. But it must have been way too expensive.”
Libby grimaced. She had been very honest with Charlise about her current financial situation. “It’s an antique of sorts. A family friend gave it to my parents when I was born, engraved with the initial L. When I heard you say were
going to name the baby Lander, after your father, I knew I wanted you to have it.”
“But you’ve kept it all this time. Despite everything that’s happened. It must have special meaning.”
When Libby looked at the silver baby cup and bowl and spoon, her heart squeezed. “It does. It did. I think I held on to the set as a reminder of happier times. But the truth is, I don’t need it anymore. I’m looking toward the future. It will make me feel good to know your little boy is using it.”
Charlise hugged Libby tightly. “I’ll treasure it.”
Libby glanced at her watch. “I need to let you get out of here, but may I ask you one more thing before you go?”
“Of course.”
“How did you get this job working with Patrick?”
“My husband and Patrick’s brother Aidan are good friends. When Patrick put out the word that he was starting Silver Reflections, Aidan hooked us up.”
“And the high-adventure stuff?”
Charlise shrugged. “I’ve always been a tomboy. Climbing trees. Racing go-karts. Broke both arms and legs before I made it to college. At different times, thank goodness.”
“Good grief.” Libby thought about her own cocoon-like adolescence. “Do you really think I can handle the team building and physical challenges in the outdoors?”
The other woman paused, her hand hovering over a potted begonia. “Let me put it this way...” She picked up the plant and put it in a box. “I think you’ll be fine as long as you believe in yourself.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve heard you talk about Patrick. He intimidates you.”
“Well, I—” Libby stopped short, unable to come up with a believable lie. “Yes.”
“Don’t let him. He may come across as tough and intense at times, but underneath it all, he’s a pussycat.”
A broad-shouldered masculine frame filled the doorway. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”
Copyright © 2016 by Janice Maynard
ISBN-13: 9781488001529
His Pregnant Princess Bride
Copyright © 2016 by Catherine Mann
Never Too Late
Copyright © 2006 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Brenda Jackson is acknowledged as the author of this work.
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