Tray leaned against the desk. “What are you talking about?” He had a good idea, but didn’t want his friend to know his part of connecting him with Lianne, or that he’d already spoken with Lianne.
“I took Lianne out to dinner the other night and spent the entire time talking about Wendy. How dumb can one man be?”
Tray thought about his own connection with Suzanne and how he’d misjudged her.
“Join the club. It’s a man thing—act dumb around women.”
Mark sighed. “Think so?”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I took her home. She smiled all night long but never gave any indication she wanted a kiss or anything. So I thought I’d play it cool. Then I called her last night and only got her answering machine. I’ve called twice today. She never answers. Guess I need to take the hint, huh?”
“Give her a day or two and try again. If she doesn’t take that call, then give up,” Tray suggested. He knew Lianne didn’t want more dates with Mark, but he hated his friend sounding so down.
“Maybe. Or maybe I need to get my act together first and get over Wendy. I thought I was ready, obviously not.”
The two talked for a short time. When he was off the phone later, Tray considered himself lucky he’d been able to get over Suzanne. He hoped he never became so caught up with another person he couldn’t function any better than Mark if the relationship ended.
He picked up a folder and rose. He’d stop by Lianne’s desk to see if she were in. She often worked on Saturdays. He shook his head, what was he doing—he didn’t need to see her today. Monday would be time enough. Only he continued heading toward her office.
Lianne wasn’t at her desk.
He was about to leave when he saw a piece of paper on the floor near her printer. Unlike Lianne to have anything out of place. He crossed and picked it up to place on her desk. Glancing at it Tray was startled to find it was a checklist of some kind—for a father for her baby.
He put down his folder, nudged her door closed and sat behind her desk, his eyes taking in the list of attributes she wanted in the father of her baby.
Athletic (no sedentary lifestyle)
Knowledgeable about many things (to better teach our child)
Interested in childhood events (school plays, field trips, prom)
Strong interest in education (college!)
Interest in finer things (Art galleries, Smithsonian, Kennedy Center)
Sense of family (there until adult at least)
Tray read all the items on the list; some were a puzzle to him, but most were clear. Lianne was listing criteria for the father of her baby. Tray gave a sardonic chuckle. How many men would relish being judged on criteria listed instead of on themselves or a spark of attraction between them?
Curious, he began to jot notes beside each. He spent time behind his desk, but he didn’t consider his life sedentary. He worked out at the gym, liked to ski in winter, sail in summer. And being out in the field kept a man busy providing the needed protection his clients demanded.
It was after seven by the time he finished. An exercise in getting into Lianne’s mind, he thought as he balled up the paper and tossed it into the trash. He thought he knew how she thought from their working together. But her list surprised him. Not the fact she had a list; as long as he’d known her, she was always jotting down lists. But the various aspects she considered important were the surprise.
Nowhere did he see anything that applied to a lover or mate for her. Was she so caught up in a baby, she discounted herself?
He took his folder and left. The offices were silent. Everyone working today had left except the night crew manning the monitors. He passed that large room, glanced in through the glass walls and noted people competently carrying out their assigned tasks. He knew everyone there, but only in a business sense.
The same way he knew Lianne. But the glimpse into her personal life intrigued him. Especially after thinking about her criteria. Why wasn’t she looking for something for herself? Or maybe there was a page two and he hadn’t seen. The thought almost had him turning around to try to get into her computer to search. But that would be an invasion of privacy, and Tray had a strong sense of right and wrong. It bumped the limits reading the paper from the floor. He would never deliberately go into her files without her permission.
But it didn’t stop him from speculating what she’d want in a lover.
He had never thought about her in that light. For a moment he could picture her cheeks flushed with passion, her eyes sparkling and her smile seductive. It wouldn’t take much imagination to see her on a bed, with that glossy brown hair spread out around her and her lips parted in temptation.
Sunday morning Lianne slept in—at least for her. She rose at eight and took a quick shower. The day loomed endlessly. Last night’s date had been another bust. Maybe there was a reason for her not being part of a couple—she was too picky. But she couldn’t help it. She wanted the best man possible to father her baby. Was it her fault she couldn’t find one? Mark hadn’t appealed to her on a basic level. Not to mention he was still hung up on his ex-wife.
Peter from Annalise’s office sounded too immature himself to be considered as a father. For some men having children caused them to grow up. In this case, Lianne suspected she would find rivalry between Peter and a baby. Not her ideal situation.
And somewhere she had to add sex appeal. So far the thought of kissing any of the men hadn’t held any appeal. How could she get naked with them?
After a hasty breakfast, she put on warm wool slacks and a sweater. She’d run by the office for a little while and make sure she had all the latest data for the head of that African country’s visit next month. Not a big player in world politics, nonetheless she wanted to make sure his visit to the nation’s capital went without a hitch. And one never knew where fanatics lurked.
Entering the office a short time later, she went right to work. It was almost noon by the time she was ready to take a break. Maybe she’d get a sandwich at the deli up the street and study some of the men there. She felt as if she was becoming skewed in her thinking. Now everything revolved around men, men, men.
Glancing around as she rose, she noticed a ball of paper in her otherwise empty wastepaper basket. She never did that. Curious, she pulled it out and smoothed it open. It was one of her lists—filled out! She recognized Tray’s handwriting.
For a moment she was mortified he’d found her list. What had he thought? Then she began to read it. He had actually jotted brief notes by each of her traits. For a moment she felt disoriented. Dare she consider Tray as a possible father for her baby?
He’d meet all the attributes. Even without his notes on the sides she knew that. He was educated and valued it highly—witness the education matching funds he provided employees and the internships he gave promising college students each summer.
He had a wide variety of interests, which made him fit in with every single person he protected, be they heads of states or prominent businessmen.
She knew he had a subscription to the symphony and ballet, as he often gave away tickets when business intruded.
She looked out the window, hearing her sister’s voice echo—you’re too involved with Tray. She wasn’t, not in that sense. They worked together—closely. But it was strictly business.
Not that she’d have a problem picturing them kissing. Or doing more.
She banged her head against the glass. She’d never thought of her boss in that way—but only because it would prove too dangerous. She’d felt a pull of attraction at their first meeting. Getting started in her career had been too important to her to fantasize about a personal relationship. Over the years she’d become used to hearing snippets about his women friends from others. She couldn’t compete. And she didn’t want to. She loved her job, relished being considered a colleague, having her opinion sought and listened to. She especially liked the nights when they worked late—sharing dinner, solving impossible s
cenarios.
She wasn’t some empty airhead who thought looks more important that brains. Those were the kind of women he liked to take out.
But there was a hint of pleasure in remembering he’d called her pretty at the cottage.
She folded the paper and stuffed it into her pocket. Grabbing her purse and jacket, she left the office. She was not going to get ideas about her boss. He was so far off-limits she should not even think of him and a baby in the same frame.
Yet every other man she’d seen recently paled in comparison. Was that the problem—Tray set the standard the others failed to meet?
Lianne spent the rest of Sunday wishing she had not gone into the office. She had thrown away the paper and fished it out of the trash twice. Finally she stuffed it in the bottom drawer in her dresser beneath a stack of sweaters. But out of sight did not mean out of mind. Was he interested?
If so he was too direct not to say something.
At least she believed so.
“Oh, God, what if he did say something?” she exclaimed, horrified and thrilled by the idea.
She started to call her sister, but decided against it. Getting into her car just before dark to head to the beach was her way of coping. She reached the cottage long after nightfall. The sound of the waves soothed her as she turned into the driveway and stopped by the dark house.
If nothing else, the rest of the night would be spent putting Tray out of her mind and trying to figure out a way to find the perfect father for her baby.
Monday morning Lianne arrived at work confident she could handle anything Tray threw her way. She turned on her computer. Jenny came to the doorway.
“Lianne, something’s wrong with Tray,” she said, looking half frightened.
“What do you mean?” She couldn’t imagine anything going wrong for the man.
“I took him the printout he’d requested at the end of work on Friday. Instead of telling me he expected it days ago, he didn’t open the door to his office but told me to go away. He’s never told me to go away.”
“Where’s Emily?” Lianne asked of Tray’s secretary.
“She wasn’t at her desk.”
Lianne rose. She’d never heard of such a thing. “Give me the printout, I’ll see he gets it,” she said. In only seconds she was outside Tray’s office. Sure enough Emily was not at her desk. What was going on?
She knocked. “Tray, I have the Sanderson’s printout.”
“Go away,” he replied.
She blinked. Opening the door, she stuck her head in, peering around to see him standing by the window, one arm raised and leaning against the casing.
He heard her and turned, glaring at her.
“I don’t want to be disturbed.”
Instead Lianne stepped inside and closed the door. She crossed to the desk and laid the printout on the messy surface. “There’s definitely something wrong. What it is?”
He frowned at her for a long moment, then the look turned to one of pain. Lianne’s eyes widened slightly. She’d never seen Tray like this.
“My uncle died unexpectedly this morning. I just learned of it.” He turned and faced out the window. “We spoke on the phone just a few days ago. Nothing was wrong. At least nothing he told me. God, the man was only fifty-nine. Too young to die.”
CHAPTER THREE
“I’M SO sorry,” she said, not knowing what to do. The words sounded so inadequate. She was stunned. She never expected anything to throw Traynor Elliott a curve. “You two were close?”
“He raised me.”
“Oh.” The image of her father rose. She’d be devastated if anything happened to him. Instinctively she went to Tray and leaned against his arm. She couldn’t put hers around him; they weren’t that close. But she could stand beside him and let him know she was there.
They stood in silence for a long moment, then he sighed. “I have to go make burial arrangements and see to things. It was just the two of us.”
“Where did he live?” she asked.
“Richmond. I grew up there. Visited last August. Talked to him just a couple of days ago.”
She knew he was hurting. And oddly enough she hurt for him.
“I’ll go with you,” she offered.
“Why?” he said, without moving.
“Because you don’t need to be alone at a time like this. Unless you’d prefer Emily or someone else to go with you? Susette?”
“Her name is Suzanne and she’s the last person in the world to go anywhere with me. Emily has her own family—she’s only my secretary.”
And I’m only a senior analyst, but I want to go with you, she thought. “Then I’m it. We’ll let Emily know so she can deal with things here. You need to pack and I will, too. Do you want me to drive?” He would not fit comfortably in her car. But she wasn’t sure he should be driving in his current state of mind.
As if she’d said it aloud, he turned and looked at her. “I’m perfectly capable of driving to Richmond. You’d really go?”
“Yes. I would.” She didn’t want anyone to have to deal with loss of family alone. “You helped me out when I needed it. It’s the least I can do for you.”
Tray was instantly back in control. He called up department heads and assigned duties. Paged Emily and had her return to the office as soon as she could. Once there, he told her where to find him in Richmond and hustled Lianne out.
“We’ll stop at your place first, then mine. It’ll take a little over an hour to get to Richmond.”
She thought it took longer, but then she wasn’t used to driving a speed machine.
A quick stop at her apartment for Lianne to pack several outfits, including a black suit that would be suitable for a funeral, and she was back in the car in less than ten minutes.
“Impressive,” Tray murmured as he pulled back into traffic.
“What?”
“The speed you’re capable of. Most women take longer than that in deciding what lipstick to wear.”
“I’m not most women,” she said. The sports car was a dream. She wished Tray would put the top down but it was far too cold. What a great ride it would be in the summer months, though. Would she ever get the chance?
His apartment was not far from her sister’s. She was surprised. Though when she thought about it, she couldn’t say why, except she always pictured Tray at work, or on an assignment, not lounging around an upscale apartment.
“I’ll be equally as fast,” he said, pulling into a parking slot beneath the building. “Want to come up?”
“Sure.” He hadn’t accompanied her, but she was curious about his apartment.
The elevator whisked them up in seconds. When he opened the door, she was pleased at the warmth of the living space. The muted browns, creams and navy tones went perfectly together. The sofa looked comfortable enough to nap on, and large enough to hold several adults.
“I’ll be only a few moments,” he said, disappearing down the hall.
Lianne wandered around the living room. The big-screen TV was another surprise. She couldn’t picture Tray sitting still long enough to watch a show. He always seemed to have too much energy. There were paintings on the walls—mostly of scenery, though one wall had a grouping of small pictures of New Orleans scenes. She was charmed by the historic dwellings captured. She wondered what the rest of the flat looked like, but now wasn’t the time to ask for a tour. After all the years she’d known him, she knew so little. Time alone did not give her insight into his life. In only a couple of moments, he was back and they were on their way.
As they sped south, Lianne wondered what she was doing. She’d worked with Tray, but they weren’t precisely friends. Yet she couldn’t let him face the coming tasks alone.
“Tell me about your uncle,” she said some time later. She knew talking about people kept their memories alive. Her best friend had died when they’d been in college. She still missed Edie. There weren’t too many people around who Lianne could talk to about her friend. Each time helped a bi
t.
“He never married. Probably thought it would lead to more children and I was enough.”
“How did he come to raise you?” she asked.
“He was my mother’s brother. When she died, he stepped in. I’m sure he thought my father would eventually return, but he never did.”
“Where did he go?”
“Who knows? Just took off when I was two weeks old. Couldn’t face raising a kid alone. My mother died right after I was born. She had cancer.”
“How sad. She missed all of your growing up.”
“She should have had treatment, but said it would harm the baby. She risked her life to give me mine. The risk didn’t pay off. She died at age twenty-two.”
Lianne felt a pang of sympathy for the woman she’d never met. Yet she also felt a connection. She would risk anything for her baby, including herself. “I can understand that,” she said. “If I can get pregnant, I’ll do anything to keep the baby—to give it a healthy life.” She glanced at Tray. “You missed knowing her, but she sounds special.”
“I heard about her love and sacrifice all my life. My uncle was the one who thought she should have treatment before it was too late. Though he said more than once that there was no guarantee that earlier treatment would have saved her. At least he had me to remind him of her, he often said. It wasn’t easy for a single man to raise a kid. Not me, anyway.”
She nodded. “A single parent’s role is always hard. That’s why God planned for two-parent homes.”
“Yet you plan on a single-parent home.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll find someone I can fall in love with. But either way, I want that father to be around, not to take off like yours did. Did you mean it when you said your uncle was the last of your family?”
“Except me. My mother’s parents died when I was small. I never knew my father or his family. I wonder if he even told them I was coming. Anyway, no cousins that I know of. No elderly aunt waiting to dole out comfort and sympathy,” Tray said.
“I have lots of family…I can’t imagine being alone in the world,” she said slowly.
The Pregnancy Promise Page 4