The Baby Consultant

by Anne Marie Winston

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I have to be going.” With the ease of experience, she shifted the sleeping baby into Jack’s arms and set the bottle down on the coffee table. “I don’t think she’ll eat any more right now. She’s exhausted. You’d better put her down and get some sleep yourself. She’ll be hungry again in a few hours.”

  “Frannie, wait.”

  But she didn’t want to hear any more. Whether or not he’d meant it, she couldn’t pretend to be amused by his comment. Not when she had a vivid image of herself almost having been stuck in a loveless marriage solely for that very reason. “Relax. You’ll be fine. You wrote down everything you need to survive tonight. Tomorrow you should call the pediatrician’s office. They can recommend some parenting classes and books to help you.”

  She stood and looked around for her purse, telling herself she had no reason to feel guilty. This baby wasn’t her problem. She barely knew Jack and she certainly wasn’t responsible for helping him with Alexa. He would do just fine.

  Two

  True to Jack’s word, Frannie’s portfolio was delivered to her first thing Monday morning by the same friendly blonde she’d seen in his office.

  “I am really sorry about this,” the woman said. “Jack and I had to coordinate a number of things by phone where he got called down to Florida, and I overlooked it.”

  “That’s all right. Unavoidable things happen sometimes.” Frannie hadn’t been able to continue being piqued at Jack. Not after she’d lain awake half the night thinking about how he was doing with the baby.

  “Jack tells me you were a godsend on Friday evening.” The blonde smiled sympathetically. “I’ve never thought of Jack as a father in all the years we’ve been together. He certainly has his hands full.”

  The woman’s words caught Frannie off guard. The way he’d flirted, charmed her last night had made her forget what kind of man he was. Anger lit a small fuse inside her He had no business flirting with her like that when he clearly had a long-term relationship with his secretary.

  “It was no big deal,” she said, practically shooing the blonde out and preparing to close the door. “I’d have done the same for anybody.”

  The rest of the morning she was conscious of a feeling of...disappointment nagging at her. It must be human nature to want to assume the best of someone. She’d given Jack the benefit of the doubt when she should have known better. Especially when she’d had first-hand experience with the same kind of man before.

  Well, she wasn’t going to give Jack Ferris another thought. She immediately called two clients and set up appointments for them to go over the portfolio with her, then went to work on a beautiful old dress that one client’s mother had worn. The girl wanted to wear it, but unfortunately she was a bit larger than her mother. Frannie had devised twin panels of additional fabric as an insert at the waist that inconspicuously offered the necessary size adjustment. Both the bride and her mother were delighted.

  In the middle of the morning, a delivery from the florist interrupted a final fitting for a girl whose wedding was the following Saturday.

  “Got something here for you, Frannie,” the man called.

  Rising from her knees, where she’d been fiddling with the hemline that the bride insisted had be to lengthened to accommodate the higher heels she had bought over the weekend, Frannie pushed through the swinging saloon-style doors from the fitting area.

  Her regular delivery man stood in the middle of the shop, totally hidden behind a huge spray of red roses beautifully displayed with ferns and baby’s breath. His big feet in heavy work boots looked ridiculously out of place on the pale pink carpet. “You musta really impressed some fella.”

  “I can’t imagine how,” Frannie replied. “They’re probably for one of my brides, though why they would have been sent here is a mystery.”

  “I don’t know ’bout that,” he said. He set the arrangement down on top of a glass counter displaying a variety of ladies’ dress gloves. “It’s got your name right here.” He pointed to the address attached to the flowers before turning to leave. “You have a nice day now.”

  “You, too,” Frannie said absently as she slid the small white card from its accompanying envelope.

  You’re my angel. Jack.

  Pleasure swept through her. An image of Jack’s face rose for an instant before the damper of reality intruded. Jack only was expressing his thanks with this too-extravagant gesture. He might have made her heart beat faster for a few hours, but that was immaterial. He was involved already. With at least one woman, she thought, remembering the phone conversation he’d been having the day she’d been shown into his office.

  “Whoo-hoo! What did you have to do for those?” April, her assistant, peeked through the doors, then walked over to read the card as she bent toward the roses and inhaled deeply. “Who’s Jack? And how come florists’ roses never have any smell?”

  “A little favor, a business acquaintance, and I don’t know.” Under April’s suspicious gaze, Frannie fought the urge to fidget. It was true; Jack was just an acquaintance whom she’d helped out. The roses meant nothing to him other than, “Thank you.”

  And, of course, that was what they meant to her, too.

  The rest of the week passed in a frantic blur. June was a big month in the bridal business; come July, the bell over the shop door probably wouldn’t ring once the whole day, but it certainly was getting a workout in June. On Friday afternoon Frannie and April were sharing a soda and nursing fingers sore from so much detailed handwork, when the door to the shop’s entry jangled yet again.

  Wearily Frannie got to her feet. She would give a lot to be able to flip that sign over to Closed for the rest of the day. But they had fittings scheduled right up until they locked up that evening. With a sigh, she pushed through the doors into the shop with a smile firmly pinned in place.

  She stopped dead when she saw Jack Ferris lounging against a counter, smiling at her. He was wearing a sort of backpack with Alexa snuggled into it, except that it was carried on his broad chest rather than his back. One hand patted a gentle rhythm against the spot where Alexa’s back was. It was hard to tear her gaze from the sight. The contrast between the baby’s pink, lace-edged bonnet and his big, blunt-fingered hand struck her hard in the heart.

  He was wearing dun-colored slacks with a dark green knit shirt that made his eyes look silver. Or maybe it was just the light in the shop. Whatever, he looked wonderful. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath backed up in her throat for a minute. She despised her reaction, but she couldn’t control it.

  “This is a surprise,” she finally managed. To her everlasting relief, her voice sounded relatively normal, if a bit higher than usual.

  Jack straightened and came toward her, moving around the counter to her side. “I know. We just came from the doctor’s office and I thought you might want to hear how Lex is doing.”

  “Lex?” To cover her flustered state, she seized on the name as she sidled a step away. “You’re calling that beautiful little girl Lex?”

  “Sure. Every kid needs a nickname.” He took a step closer and smiled down at her. “Frannie is a nickname, isn’t it? Short for Francesca?”

  “Don’t I wish.” She shook her head as she backed up another step. “Short for Frances.”

  “I’m glad you’re not Frances or Fran. I like ‘Frannie,”’ Jack pronounced, advancing again.

  She didn’t care what he liked. She just wished the man would quit invading her personal space. She took another step backward, and the wall brought her up short. “I like ‘Frannie,’ too.” Why are you here?

  “And Jack, of course, is another name for John. My father was John, and I have to say I’m glad. Don’t you think Jack suits me?” He took another step closer.

  “Jack suits you.” She took a deep breath. “You’re crowding me.”

  “I know.”

  She was startled into looking up and as she did so, she realized how very close he was.
Their bodies were only inches apart, separated by the small mound of the baby’s carrier. He was smiling that intimate smile again, and she reminded herself that it was second nature for him, that there was nothing personal about it.

  “Do you do this to all your friends?” She made her voice light and amused.

  At the outer edges of his eyes, the grooves deepened. “Only my absolute favorites.” But he moved back a step.

  She stayed where she was, with her back to the wall. Had she imagined it, or had his eyes grown watchful? “Thank you for the roses. It really wasn’t necessary, though.”

  “I didn’t do it because I thought it was necessary,” he said. “I appreciate the time you took helping me with Alexa. She’d been in foster care practically until the moment we stepped on the plane. I’ve never been around babies much. It was a shock to have this little scrap of life dependent on me for every need all of a sudden.”

  “A first baby is a shock even when you’ve anticipated its arrival for months.”

  “No kidding.” His voice was dry, and for the first time she noticed that he looked tired. “When people talk about how sweet babies are, they never tell you that they get you up in the middle of the night or that they throw up on you ten times a day and scream bloody murder when you give them a bath.”

  To cover her urge to laugh, Frannie coughed.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed. “That didn’t fool me. You think this is funny, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but only because I’ve lived through it.”

  Jack cocked his head to one side, and his eyes suddenly were clear and alert. “You told me you helped with your brothers’ children.”

  “Yes. Between them I have five nieces and nephews. One of my brothers’ wives had twins a few years ago. They were premature and needed a lot of care for the first few months after they were released from the hospital.” She smiled, remembering how fussy Robert’s twins had been. “For about three months there, I was in desperate need of a few hours of unbroken sleep.”

  Jack was nodding. “It’s only been a week, and I already feel that way. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, though. For the past two nights she’s slept for five hours straight. I think we’re on the right track.”

  Alexa stirred and he looked down. “What’s the matter, baby doll? Are you tired of being crammed into that sack?” He glanced at Frannie. “Would you like to hold her?”

  She really shouldn’t. She was up to her eyeballs in work. But she could already feel the sweet weight of the little body in her arms. “I’d love to.”

  He lifted Alexa from her nest and passed her into Frannie’s hands, and she noted that in just one week he had gotten pretty sure of himself. It showed in the careful, competent way he handled the child as he untied the bonnet’s strings and lifted the little cap from her head.

  “Hello, sweetie. How’s my girl today? I bet you’re having fun with your uncle Jack.” She used the special voice she reserved for teeny ones as she clucked and murmured.

  Jack chuckled. “I don’t know if we’re having fun, but we’re managing.”

  Alexa yawned and grimaced, and her blue eyes focused intently on Frannie’s. Then her tiny face crinkled in a wide grin.

  Could a person’s heart melt? Frannie felt as if her whole being suddenly had softened as a rush of maternal delight swept over her. “Oh, look! She’s smiling at me.”

  “She’ll smile at anything right now.”

  “Thanks a lot. That was flattering.”

  “I guess that didn’t come out quite right.” He chuckled again. “One of my clients brought her a rag doll that’s almost the size she is. I set it in the corner of the crib and every time she catches sight of its face, she smiles.”

  Frannie rocked the baby as Alexa stretched and cooed. “You know a friendly face when you see one, don’t you, chickadee?” Holding Alexa up, she brushed her cheek across the down-covered scalp, then lifted her head to smile at Jack. “This has got to be my favorite age. I adore them when they’re tiny and helpless and they look at you like you’re God. Then again, toddlers are delightful, too. Just in a different way. And they’re really fun when they hit school age....”

  Her voice trailed away. He was still standing too close, but she’d forgotten when she’d been absorbed in the baby. Now she remembered.

  He was looking at her mouth as she spoke. It was a silly thing, but it struck her as unbelievably seductive. Even when she stopped speaking, he didn’t meet her eyes, but continued to watch her lips.

  Time stopped. Her breath stopped. Deep in her abdomen, she felt a flower of warmth blossoming, unsettling her, the excitement of arousal stirring and softening her in a manner totally different from the maternal feelings she had for Alexa.

  Slowly he lifted one big hand, up and up and up until it was hovering at her cheek. His index finger feathered a whisper of sensation along the bow of her upper lip; his gaze followed the motion.

  She kept her own eyes on his face, studying its blunt contours, the broad sweep of his brow, the sandy lashes that formed a thick screen about his eyes. Had she ever seen a man so beautifully formed before?

  Jack lifted his gaze to hers. Time stretched and sagged around them while he silently seduced her; in the depths of those bottomless silvery eyes she read a multitude of messages. All of them conveyed arousal, and a desire that curled her toes inside the comfortable flats she was wearing.

  Alexa chose that moment to utter a full, resounding belch worthy of the bowling alley or the golf course.

  Frannie jumped and looked down at Alexa.

  Jack’s gaze flew to the baby, too. Slowly that heart-stopping smile spread over his face as he looked back at Frannie. “Wow. If she were a man, I’d consider that a challenge.”

  Frannie laughed, feeling the tension of the last few moments shatter as she handed the baby back to him. “Here. You’d better take her. I seem to have an adverse effect on her.”

  “Hardly.” Jack’s voice dropped to a lower pitch. “You’ve had a great effect on her. And on me.”

  Butterflies rose in a flurry of sensation in her stomach. Doggone it. He was the worst flirt she’d ever met. Mentally she kicked herself for succumbing to his charm, if only for a moment, and willed herself to ignore the mad beating of butterfly wings. “Well, thanks for stopping by. It was nice to see you both. I hope the adjustment period continues to go as smoothly.”

  In the act of resettling Alexa in her little sack, Jack paused. “Um, Frannie?”

  For a moment she’d swear a look of...almost guilt, she supposed, crossed his face. Then it was gone, and he was affable, incredibly attractive Jack again. “I really have to get back to work now,” she told him.

  “I know. This will only take a minute. I have something I’d like you to think about.”

  Think? He wanted her to think? I think seeing you again, even in a chance meeting, is a really bad idea, she told him silently. He could make her forget too much, offer too much—

  “I need to find someone to baby-sit for Alexa while I work. Would you consider keeping her?”

  “Would I...?” It took a moment to sink in. Frost swept through her, and the butterflies died in the chill, becoming a dead weight in her stomach. Outrage rose. There was little she disliked more than men who used their charm to wheedle women into doing them “a favor.” She felt like she’d hopped onto a carousel horse that kept bringing her around to the same old point again and again. Did she have a sign stamped on her forehead that read Nursemaid or Housekeeper?

  It was a struggle to keep her expression blank. “Who’s keeping her now?” she asked carefully. Beneath the surface, anger began to consume her, boiling higher and higher every second.

  “I’ve been taking her to work with me,” he said. “Between Marlene and me—she’s my secretary—we’ve been managing, but it’s just too hectic. She really needs to be with someone who has more time for her.”

  “So what makes you think I have the time?”

  There was a bite
in her voice now, and Jack looked cautious, as if he’d wandered into the middle of a minefield and was trying desperately to pick his way out intact. He looked around and spread his hands to indicate her shop. “I just—this is attached to your home, isn’t it? You sew, which doesn’t require dealing with people constantly, and you’re fantastic with her—I know you love children.”

  She dug both hands into her hair to keep from putting them around his thick neck. “Yes, Jack, this is attached to my home. Do you know why? Because during the big bridal season, I’m too busy to even take time to drive to work and back.” Her voice rose. “And just how do you suppose I make clothing that fits my clients?”

  “I don’t—”

  “I have people wandering in and out of here all day long for fittings and design sessions and fabric consultations. I have customers scheduled right up until eight o’clock tonight. Come here.”

  She turned and marched to the back of the shop and pushed through the doors into the fitting and sewing room, seeing it through Jack’s eyes as he followed her.

  A three-way mirror with a platform in front for viewing clothing was mounted at one end of the room. One wall was filled with shelving on which were sewing supplies, dozens of different fabrics, bridal magazines and accessories. Hats, veils, shoes, hosiery, frilly white parasols and clever little beaded purses filled shelves to overflow. The wall opposite the mirror was one enormous closet. When the doors were folded back as they were now, more than fifty dresses in various stages of completion could be seen hanging. Against the fourth wall were three sewing machines. Directly behind them was an enormous, custom-designed worktable on which April was pinning a pattern to a swath of satin. Two ironing boards stood beside it Everything was neat and tidy, but it was clear this was a busy place to be.

  “Does this look like I have time to baby-sit?” she demanded, turning back to Jack.

  Behind her, April said, “Hi, I’m April. Are you Roses-Jack?”

  “That’s me,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, April. Do me a favor and tell the coroner I died from having large quantities of roses stuffed down my throat.”