by Karen Booth
“I need guidance. I need someone to give me advice and help me make the right connections, not throw money at me and hope I’ll go away. That’s your role in our arrangement and now you’re trying to get out of it.” She didn’t want to speak to him in this manner, but she hated being blown off. It felt too much like Jason discounting everything about her—her dreams, her desires, and most important, the feelings she’d thought were between them, the ones he’d said were a figment of her overactive imagination.
Aiden handed her back her phone, appraising her. It was as if she could see the gears turning in his head, and she was more than a little nervous to hear what he was going to say. “You’re right. I said I’d help you and I will. Not having looked at your financials, I’m thinking we need to find you an exclusive partnership. Become a subsidiary of a larger fashion corporation to scale your production, help with facility and warehousing issues, and most importantly, take over distribution so you can focus on what you’re good at.”
Finally, he got what she wanted. And he wasn’t trying to back out. “Yes. Great. I can spend my time designing.” And I can be back on track.
Seven
Sunday had brought Aiden’s less sunny side. He’d finally called his mother about Oliver that morning, which had not gone as he’d hoped. He’d assumed, and so had Sarah, that she would be eager to come over right away. Instead, she’d said she was busy and would stop by Monday. That response had prompted Aiden to hunker down in his home gym for hours, lifting weights and running on the treadmill. As if the man needed to be in better shape.
Sarah had tried her best to go about her day, working on Oliver’s room while he played, and during his nap, doing research on apparel companies she could partner with, per Aiden’s suggestion. She’d also taken Oliver for a long walk, with a stop at a bookstore for some of her favorite children’s reads. Considering how much Aiden loved books, she knew the gesture would be appreciated. Maybe someday those books would make him think of her—the woman who’d brought him Oliver out of the blue. And slipped away just as fast.
Now that it was late Monday morning, Sarah was still awaiting the return of pleasant Aiden. He’d been a real jerk during the nanny interviews, which was not the way it should’ve gone. The agency was the top in the city. Money was no object. All signs led to this being a short and simple process. But she hadn’t counted on Aiden stonewalling.
“What is your problem?” Sarah asked as the elevator doors closed on the fourth and final candidate. “For now, the agency has no more nannies to send. The woman was practically Mary Poppins and you tell her that you don’t think she’s right for Oliver?”
Aiden shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark gray suit pants. He’d ditched the jacket and tie for the interview, but otherwise dressed handsomely, which was driving Sarah crazy. It took too much work to be mad at him when he looked so good.
“Did you see her face when she wasn’t talking? It was so cold and stern. I want Oliver to be happy, not scared out of his mind.”
“Are you saying she had resting bitch face? Is that really what this has come down to? Because you’re being ridiculous.”
“I didn’t like her. End of story.”
Sarah grumbled. Aiden might be right about the woman’s austere facial expressions, but she was otherwise perfect. Plus, she was in her fifties and happily married and there was a very petty part of Sarah that wasn’t about to leave Aiden with a perky twentysomething.
She flipped through the candidates’ résumés. “What about Frances? She had a very sunny personality and came with impeccable references. She was a nanny for Senator Meyers, for God’s sake. Do you think just anyone gets that job?”
“And why doesn’t she have that job anymore? I’m not sure I buy her answer.”
“She wanted to be in New York to help with her sick aunt. The Senator and his family are in Washington, DC. Seems reasonable to me.”
“What if her aunt’s illness takes over her life? I need someone who is solely focused on Oliver. That’s what’s best for him.”
“You’ve spent all of three days with him. How can you say that you know what’s best?”
Aiden shot her a look that said she’d taken it too far. He swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m trusting my gut. That’s the best thing I have to go on right now.” He turned and walked out of the entryway and into the kitchen.
Sarah followed. They had to get the nanny situation resolved. “Don’t forget that I’m the expert on this subject. I’m telling you right now that you’re an idiot of the highest order for sending those four women away.”
“We have to keep looking.”
“I’m only here for a week, Aiden. It’s Monday. Your ten days are up on Sunday and I’m gone. What are you going to do then?”
He grabbed an apple out of the bamboo bowl on the kitchen island. “Maybe I need you to stay longer.”
So that’s what he was doing—avoiding the potential mess of someone who might not be right by trying to keep the one thing he knew would work—her. “You’re trying to force me to stay by sending away the other nannies?”
“Listen to what you just said. Other nannies.”
“No way. I’m done with that.”
“Honestly, I don’t believe you’re capable of walking away from Oliver on Sunday. You love him. I can see it.”
Why did he have to make this so much worse? His words cut to her core. They were the truth and he knew it. “Of course I love Oliver. How could I not? But he’s not my child and just like every other child I’ve cared for, I eventually have to leave him.” Just saying the words brought up an unholy mess of things she dreaded and terrible memories. If she was bad at anything, it was goodbye.
“So you’ve got leaving down to a science. You can do it. No problem.” Everything in his tone was biting, dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m not heartless.”
“Which is why I don’t buy it.”
“Look. You need to focus on holding up your end of our deal. Part of that is hiring a nanny. I’m calling the agency to see if they have anyone else for us to interview.” She slapped the résumés down on the kitchen counter. “In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you would please look these over again and see if you’re willing to reconsider any of these applicants.” She turned on her heel and took extralong strides to get to the stairs.
“Sarah. Hold on.”
She turned back, just in time to see him push aside the résumés. “What?”
He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry if it seems like I have ridiculous standards, but my gut is telling me that those women were not right. Remember, this is all new to me. Almost too new. I’m doing my best. I swear.”
She crossed her arms, hoping it would make it easier to buffer her attraction to him. It was hopeless when he was being sweet about the baby and talking in that tone that made her want to flatten him against the wall and climb him like a tree. “I know you’re trying. I’m just antsy about time. We don’t have much and I have to get back to Boston and Kama.”
“I know you do, which is the other thing I need to say to you. Anna and I are working on getting us into a charity fashion show, organized by Fad Forward Magazine. Apparently it’s a big deal.”
Holy crap. Sarah clamped her hand over her mouth to keep a string of elated profanity from leaving her lips. “The Forward Style show? Where is it this year?”
“Miami. I thought I’d just buy tickets, but you have to be invited, which seems ludicrous since it’s a charity event...”
Sarah couldn’t breathe. She’d seen the pictures in Fad Forward Magazine every year since she was a teenager. Their annual charity fashion show was a chance for designers to bring out their most adventuresome work, and was attended by fashion legends, rock stars, Hollywood bigwigs and sometimes even
royalty.
“Everybody who’s anybody will be there. But I’m not sure it will help me.”
“Our target is Sylvia Hodge. She’s the honorary host this year. Anna and I dug up some info that she’s acquiring new brands, but she’s about to spend six months in Europe and Asia, looking for designers. If we want to meet face-to-face with her, going to Miami is the only way. And we might have to just walk up to her and start talking. I can’t get her to take my call.”
“But you’re Aiden Langford. Isn’t your last name enough?”
“Sylvia Hodge’s admin didn’t seem to care who I was.”
“If we go, what are our chances?”
He shrugged. “No idea. Right now I’m waiting to see if they’ll let me buy tickets.”
“But the tickets. I can’t afford that. They’re tens of thousands of dollars.”
“It’s my treat.”
“But it goes so far beyond our agreement.”
“You brought me Oliver. It’s the least I can do.”
* * *
After having been away from LangTel for much of Friday and all of Monday so far, Aiden had a mountain of work, but he couldn’t focus, not even with the relative quiet of working from home. The clock on the wall was taunting him. Three forty-five. Fifteen minutes until his mother was set to arrive to meet Oliver.
Sarah poked her head into his office, Oliver on her hip. The baby smiled at him, sweetly tilting his head to the side. This child would be the death of him, in a good way.
“If you’re still working, I can hang out with Oliver until your mom arrives,” she said. “Then I’ll clear out so you three can have some time alone.”
Aiden was trying to be optimistic, clinging to the idea that Oliver would bridge the chasm between him and his mother, but he had too many reasons to believe that would not be the case. “Where are you headed?”
“Out for a run. With all of the excitement of waiting to hear about Miami, I’m way too tense. Plus, I haven’t worked out in days. I feel like a slob.”
His vision drifted over her. She was wearing black leggings that showed off her fit and healthy curves, with a formfitting top that left her bare shoulders on display. Her hair was back in a high ponytail. He stepped out from behind his desk and took Oliver, unable to keep from admiring her. He wrestled with a deep desire to thread his hands into the back of her golden blond hair and pull out the rubber band, tilt her head back and give her the sort of kiss that makes a woman linger for a moment afterward with her eyes half-open.
“You are not a slob. You look incredible.”
“You’re just saying that because you feel bad about the nanny interviews.”
“I’m saying it because you’re a beautiful woman and I’d be an idiot if I didn’t at least say it out loud.”
A wash of pink crossed her cheeks and she fought a smile. If only she knew that it made him that much more attracted to her. If only she knew that she was making every inch of his body draw tight and burn hot.
“Thank you. I appreciate the compliment.” She pressed her lips together and gazed up at him. “If you’re going to take Oliver, I’ll just head out. I should be done in about an hour. I don’t know how long your mom is planning on staying, but I can grab a cup of coffee if you want more time.”
The gears in Aiden’s head whirred. He’d first thought it would be better if he and his mom were alone with Oliver. Keep things simple. But the truth was that he couldn’t imagine Sarah not being there. It didn’t make any sense, although he wanted to know why. Then he realized that no matter the situation, Sarah calmed him. She took the edge off. She made him believe things would work out. Aside from his sister, he didn’t have anyone in his life who did that, but this was different. Sarah wasn’t obligated to make him feel good.
“What if I said I wanted you to stay?”
She scrunched up her adorable nose. “What? Really?”
“I could use the moral support. I could use someone on my side. Things with my mother are not easy. I think you’ve gathered that much by now.”
“I have, although you haven’t told me the reason why.”
Because I don’t want to talk about it. “It’s complicated. If you’re here, it’ll keep the conversation light and fun. I could use that right now.”
She looked down at herself. “Oh God. I look terrible. I should go change. I don’t want her to see me like this.”
Before he could think about what he was doing, his fingers cupped her chin. He shouldn’t have crossed that line, but he couldn’t help himself. “I think you look perfect. Don’t change.”
She didn’t move. He didn’t either. Neither of them said a thing, but their eyes connected, as if they were each digging deeper, wanting more.
Sarah broke the spell with a shake of her head. “You’re sweet, but there’s no way I’m wearing this to meet your mom. And I have no makeup on.” She turned and headed out of his office. “Back in five minutes.”
Aiden watched her jog away, her leggings accentuating every move. A ripple of steamy thoughts ran through his head—everything he wanted to do with her. It had been a long time since he’d wanted a woman as badly as he wanted Sarah. The question was whether the opportunity would present itself. So far, there was always something in the way.
Aiden wandered into the kitchen, where his housekeeper had put on a pot of coffee. She’d also stocked Sarah’s cookie jar with an assortment of biscotti, some of it plain. Oliver regularly chowed down on teething biscuits, and Aiden decided that this was basically the same thing.
“Do you want a cookie?” He offered it to Oliver.
The baby snatched it from his hand and it went right into his mouth, like most things. His eyes grew wide once he’d gotten a taste. Aiden leaned against the counter, enjoying the moment. Sarah was going to leave behind a lot more than a cookie jar on Sunday.
“Good, huh? Just wait until you get older and I can take you out for hot fudge sundaes or we can get a hot dog at a baseball game.” The thought brought with it a peculiar mix of hope and melancholy. Dads did those things with their children. Aiden very much looked forward to having those experiences with Oliver, but they were things he’d missed out on entirely.
Sarah hurried down the stairs. “This is as good as it’s going to get. I really wish you would’ve given me some advance notice. I could’ve taken a shower and done something with my hair.” Her face was flush with color, probably from rushing around. She wore a full black skirt that skimmed her knees and a white top that hinted at the curves he’d been admiring for days now. She’d put on the sandals she’d been wearing the day he met her, which gave her a few more inches of height. He still towered over her, but he loved the way they made her legs look.
“Once again, you look perfect.”
The buzzer for the elevator rang.
“You’re sweet. And you need to answer the door.”
Aiden’s heart went from racing over Sarah to plummeting to his stomach. His mother had arrived. He didn’t bother with the intercom, hitting the button to grant her access to his floor. “Here goes nothing,” he said to Sarah. He filed into the entryway, Oliver in tow and making excellent progress on his cookie.
When the doors slid open, Aiden managed a smile. It was only half-forced. He still loved his mother, despite his immense frustrations with her.
She actually gasped when she saw Oliver, breezing off the elevator in her usual garb of all black with a colorful scarf tied at her neck. She took a direct route to her grandson, her mouth softening to a tiny O. “Aiden, he looks just like you.” She held on to his hand and shook her head in disbelief, but not enough to muss her short, dark hair. “What an angel.” A tear rolled down her cheek, but then a steady stream started. Of the many reactions he’d anticipated from his mother, full-on crying was not one of them. She smiled through th
e tears, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Can I hold him?”
Aiden was stricken with conflicting emotions, ones that didn’t belong in one person’s head at the same time. He wanted to protect Oliver. But at the same time, there was a yearning—so deep he could feel it—for his mother to accept and love Oliver. He had to take this leap, however much she could end up hurting either of them. “Yes. Of course.”
He handed over Oliver, who seemed perplexed. She bounced him up and down as she plopped her handbag on the entry table.
“Come in, Mom. I want you to meet Sarah.”
Sarah was pouring herself a glass of water. “Mrs. Langford. It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve...” She paused and looked right at Aiden. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Please, call me Evelyn. And I wish I could say the same about you. My son has been remarkably quiet about everything.” She turned and shot Aiden a disappointed look, a wordless reprimand. Did she have any idea how hard he was working to keep up his hopes? Intentional or not, she expertly knocked them back down. “Not that I’m surprised. He keeps things to himself. Always.”
Eight
Stress radiated off Aiden like August heat off a tin roof—jaw tense, shoulders rigid. Was he always this away around his mother? He must be, because she didn’t seem to notice. She was too preoccupied with Oliver, sitting on the floor in the library, offering him toys from a bag Sarah had given her.
“He’s smart. I can tell,” she said to no one in particular.
Aiden stood sentry, arms crossed squarely at his chest. This was not a bonding moment for him. He was observing, like a hawk.
Sarah walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He flinched, then relaxed under her touch. She might have underestimated this burden, and her heart ached because of it. Whatever there was between him and his mother, it was not good. Sarah desperately wanted to know more. Even if it was painful, she wanted to know.
“Is there anything I can get for you?” she whispered to Aiden.