He'd felt Jeannie's eyes on him as he leaned over the crib to say goodnight to Daisy. The sight of that beautiful, sleeping baby had torn at him like the slash of a knife but he'd managed to keep his expression bland, his emotions under control--at least, outwardly.
Jeannie loved Daisy as if she were her own. Every touch, every gesture radiated love in its purest sense. Callie had given birth to Daisy but in every other way Jeannie was her mother.
He understood that. He accepted it.
Why then had it taken him so long to understand what that baby girl meant to him?
When Burnett had showed up on the doorstep that afternoon, Hunter's first instinct had been to slam the door shut in the Scotsman's face.
"I should have," he muttered as he strode down the street. Or landed a left hook to his jaw. Something.
But he'd opened the door wide, set Daisy on the guy's lap--if Jeannie hadn't walked in when she did, he might have packed up the baby's belongings and sent her on her way.
For months he'd told anyone who asked that he wasn't Daisy's father, that her "real" father was somewhere out there. The kid can do better than me, he'd said more than once. He was the guy who'd thought projectile vomiting was part of Desert Storm. He'd learned a hell of a lot in short order, but the feeling that he was shortchanging Daisy had never left him, not even for a minute. When he saw Burnett it had all rushed in on him with the force of a sudden storm.
The shortcomings. The mistakes.
The way Daisy had opened up his heart to love. Without that little girl in his life, the happiness he'd found with Jeannie would have been impossible. He hadn't understood a damn thing about love or families or all the other things everyone else took for granted.
It had taken a baby girl with cornflower blue eyes to show him the secret of being happy.
He'd been so caught up in his own concerns that he might not have noticed paradise--not even when it was staring him in the face.
And so there he was again. Still scared. Still angry. Only this time it wasn't because he wanted to shrug off responsibility the way you shrugged off an old coat. It was because he might lose everything in life that really mattered.
Daisy was his flesh and blood.
And Jeannie was the woman he loved.
They were worth fighting for. Worth putting himself on the line to hold fast. This was the secret his sister had always known, that you had to climb out on a limb in order to reach the sweetest fruit.
And if sometimes you fell, it was a chance you had to take.
He stepped out into the street and hailed a cab.
"The Westbury Hotel," he said as the driver gunned the engine.
To hell with waiting until tomorrow morning. It was time to climb out onto that limb and take his chances.
When the telephone rang Jeannie was on it in an instant.
"Jeannie, it's Taylor from Kramer Booking. Haven't you checked your messages, girl? I've been going ballistic trying to track you down."
Jeannie glanced at the clock. "It's almost midnight, Taylor. This'd better be good." Hunter, where are you? This was supposed to be you on the telephone.
"Remember that courier pouch we sent you last week? Well, dust it off and get your butt to the airport. We're calling up the troops stat."
"You've got to be kidding, Taylor. The sixteenth is still a week away."
"Forget the sixteenth. There's a push to get the spot on air in time for the first sweeps week."
"I can't just pick up on a moment's notice."
"Neither can anybody else," said Taylor, "but they're all on their way to the airport. You did sign a contract for a two week stint."
"You're going to play hardball?"
"Absolutely."
There was nothing holding her here. Even if a miracle happened and Hunter claimed Daisy as his family, she knew her own secrets would destroy their last chance for happiness. Kate would be willing to come over and watch Daisy until Hunter came home. Maybe a clean break was the smartest thing to do.
"Send a car for me," she told Taylor. "I'll be ready to go in fifteen minutes."
Burnett opened the door at Hunter's first knock.
And it was a good thing because Hunter's adrenaline was pumping so hard and fast that he would have kicked in the door at the slightest provocation.
"A bit late for visiting, isn't it, Phillips?" The damn Scotsman managed to look sophisticated in a hotel bathrobe.
Hunter stepped into the foyer. "Daisy's mine," he said, staring Burnett in the eye. "She's my daughter, and if you think you're going to take her away from me, you're in for the fight of your life."
Burnett closed the door. "I don't know about you," he said, heading toward the sitting room, "but I need a drink."
"I didn't come here for a friendly shot, Burnett." Hunter followed him into the room. "I want to talk about my daughter."
Burnett grabbed two tumblers from the bar then poured three fingers of Scotch into each.
"Callie told me you were volatile," Burnett said, handing a tumbler to Hunter.
"Yeah?" he said. "She didn't tell me anything about you."
Burnett lifted his glass. "To Callie."
Hunter nodded, eyes burning. "To Callie."
The two men gulped down some Scotch then squared off once again.
"Okay," said Hunter, putting down the glass. "Great hospitality. Now let's get down to business." He met Burnett's eyes--and saw Daisy in them. He didn't want to, but there was no avoiding it. "You're Daisy's father."
"Her biological father."
Hunter blinked. Was he the last person on earth to understand the difference?
"You knocked up my sister, then walked out on her."
"If I wasn't reasonably sure you would best me, I'd call you out for that, Phillips."
The two men glared at each other across the room.
"Callie wanted a child," Burnett said. "She knew the risks but her desire for a baby outweighed them in her eyes."
"And you accommodated her."
Burnett's expression softened. "There was a great deal of affection between us," he said, "and we both understood the boundaries of our relationship."
Hunter listened impassively to the story. "That's all terrific," he said at last, "but that doesn't tell me why you showed up on my doorstep."
Burnett seemed to age right in front of Hunter. "I wanted to see her," he said. "Just once."
"And now that you've seen her--?"
Burnett's shrug was eloquent. For an instant Hunter pitied him. "I get on with my life," he said in his Scottish burr, "and you get on with yours."
"How do I know you won't show up again one day and want to turn Daisy's life upside down?"
Burnett reached into the briefcase that rested on the Louis XIV chair near the bar. He withdrew a sheaf of papers then handed them to Hunter.
"Medical records going back two generations. Genealogy information." His smile was weary. "And a signed document releasing all claim on your beautiful little daughter."
"Jeannie!" Hunter exploded into the apartment a little after seven in the morning, bearing bagels, cream cheese, and a split of champagne. "Rise and shine! Grab Daisy and let's do some celebrating!"
"Hi, Hunter."
He whirled around to see Kate Mullen standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
"Where's Jeannie?" he asked, glancing about the apartment.
"She said to tell you that Taylor called. They moved the shoot up a few days."
"Hawaii?"
Kate nodded. "That's the one."
He'd almost forgotten about that. Somehow he'd never imagined she would leave them.
"It was an emergency," Kate said, obviously uncomfortable. "They had her signed contract and all."
"Maybe I can catch her at the airport."
"Too late. She took off from Newark ten minutes ago."
Jeannie had called Kate to come over and watch Daisy until Hunter came home. He knew Kate had to be wondering what in hell he'd bee
n doing wandering the streets on a Saturday night. Not exactly the behavior of your average newlywed.
As soon as Kate left he headed into Daisy's room.
"Daah!" she said as he approached the crib. "Daah!" She waved her arms and legs in the air, gurgling with delight as he lifted her into his arms. One chubby hand touched his cheek and came away wet.
"No apologies, Daise," he said, holding her close to his chest, breathing in her sweet baby smell. "Your old man's got a lot to be happy about this morning."
She was his little girl. His daughter. The signed documents from Burnett only confirmed what he already knew in his heart.
Still, something was missing. He wasn't just Daisy's father, he was part of a family. A family that included Jeannie.
Carrying Daisy, he prowled around the apartment, certain Jeannie must have left a note for him somewhere.
"She'll probably call this evening," he said to Daisy as she fed his daughter her breakfast.
Soon as she landed in Hawaii.
He sat and stared at the telephone all day. Once he called the operator just to see if the damn thing was working.
"Your telephone is fine, sir. Have a good day."
"What do you know?" he mumbled, hanging up the phone. The phone company hadn't been the same since they broke up Ma Bell into a group of bouncing Baby Bells.
Not even a wrong number.
Okay. He wasn't going to get crazy about it. Twelve-hour flights could do a real number on your body clock. Besides, he knew all about location shoots. They probably met her at the airport with a fast food hamburger and a shooting script that would increase by leaps and bounds as the days went on.
She'd settle in.
Catch up on her sleep.
And then she'd call.
E.T. had called home. So would his wife.
By Wednesday even Hunter had to admit that Jeannie wasn't going to call.
Twice he dialed Kate's number, determined to ask her for the name of his wife's hotel on Maui but male pride stopped him each time. He was her husband. He was supposed to know things like that.
It seemed as if Daisy had cried non-stop since Jeannie left on Sunday morning. If he didn't know better he'd swear all thirty-two teeth were coming in at once. He held her, fed her, did all the things he'd always done for her, but it wasn't enough. "You want Jeannie, don't you, Daise?" he said as he walked the floor with his little girl. "You're not the only one."
He could handle the cooking and cleaning as well as he ever did. He could hire a nanny with references a mile long to care for Daisy. But there was no substitute for the sweet warmth of the woman you loved.
"I'm distressed," said Walter Grantham on Thursday afternoon. "That proposal was below-standard."
"I'm working on it," said Hunter. "I'm re-doing the storyboard. Ed Fisk likes the changes."
Grantham's gaze rested on Daisy who was asleep in her office playpen. "I see you have a visitor."
Hunter nodded, but made no comment.
"Is this going to be a permanent thing?"
In the real world, people married and had kids. Too bad Grantham only saw them as potential consumers. "She won't be doing her graduate work here, if that's what you're worried about."
Grantham had never been one for humor. "I hope when your wife returns, she'll resume her duties and the child can stay home where she belongs."
"My wife doesn't have duties, Walter."
"No offense, Phillips. It just seemed to me you had a sweet deal going there. You've done some of your best work since the nuptials."
Keep your mouth shut, a warning voice sounded. You can't afford to lose your job over some stupid remark.
Grantham, however, was on a roll. Hunter's eyes glazed over as Grantham waxed nostalgic for the good old days when a woman knew her place.
"...the White Orchid is too rich for our blood," Grantham was saying when Hunter tuned in again. "I don't know where the competition's getting the money but--"
"The White Orchid?" Hunter snapped to attention. "That fancy hotel in Maui?"
Grantham looked at him strangely. "The hotel where your wife is, Phillips. Haven't you been listening?"
Hunter started throwing papers into his briefcase then packing away Daisy's stuff in the duffel that doubled as a diaper bag. "I'm going to need some time off," he said, slipping into his jacket. "A week. Maybe two."
"You're joking, aren't you?" Grantham's tone implied Hunter had better be.
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"I don't know what's going on, but we can't have anarchy at CN&S."
Hunter continued packing up his stuff. "I'll fax you the revised proposal. If you have any messages, use electronic mail." He bent down to pick up Daisy. "I'll be in touch."
"Walk out that door, Hunter, and you might not have a job to come back to."
"I'll take my chances."
Grantham was sputtering with outrage. Sooner or later there would be hell to pay for this stunt, but it didn't much matter to Hunter.
All that mattered was finding Jeannie before it was too late.
Chapter 10
"I'm afraid we're going to be here in L.A. for quite awhile," the flight attendant apologized as Hunter gathered up Daisy's things.
"Any guesses?" asked Hunter.
"Four hours definite. Six hours likely. If you're leaving the airport, make sure you call for information each hour."
"What next?" he muttered as he scooped up his daughter.
Of course he could have waited until tomorrow afternoon to catch a nice, cushy first class seat on a non-stop from New York to Honolulu, but once he knew where Jeannie was, nothing could stop him, not even stopovers in L.A.
Juggling duffel, overnight bag, and Daisy, he exited the jetway. He felt like he'd just finished last in a triathlon. Daisy, however, was inordinately cheerful. She probably knew they were on their way to find Jeannie.
"What happened to all the crying you've been doing?" he asked as they headed toward the lounge.
"Daah!" she said, tugging at his ear.
"Old material, Daisy," he muttered. "How about trying something new?"
The flight attendants had fawned all over Daisy, cooing about what a terrific little traveler she was. Why not? After all, how many kids log eleven thousand miles before they're fourteen days old the way Daisy had.
Daisy seemed perfectly content to play with her plastic keys in the airport lounge but Hunter couldn't settle down. Maybe it was his mood. Maybe it was the fact that for months he'd been living at the outer edge of control.
Or maybe it was just time.
He rented a sedan and a car seat for Daisy then set out for his parents' condo on the beach.
"Hunter." His mother's polite smile widened just a little bit. "Won't you come in?"
He had to hand it to the woman. If she was surprised at seeing him on her doorstep for the first time in three years, it didn't show.
"Fred," she called out. "We have guests."
His father bustled into the foyer with that self-important air peculiar to most new retirees. "Well," he said, shaking Hunter's hand. "Well, well, well." He reached around Daisy for the bags. "Let me take your things."
"And what brings you here?" asked his mother as she ushered him into the living room.
"I had a few hours to kill between planes."
His father peered out the front window. "And where is your lovely new wife? Is she parking the car?"
"Jeannie is in Hawaii." He pointed toward Daisy who was sitting on his lap watching her grandparents with wide-eyed interest. "We're on our way to meet her."
Their collective gaze flickered over Daisy, held for an instant, then flickered away.
His mother fluttered around, offering him unsalted cashews, trail mix, or a club sandwich.
"Nothing, Mom," he said. "I'm fine."
"A drink," said his father. "Scotch on the rocks."
"I'm driving," said Hunter. "I wouldn't mind some iced tea and some juice for Daisy." He
reached into his duffel and extracted a bottle. "This one's clean."
"Is there--is there any particular juice she likes?" asked his mother, her gaze again lingering on her baby granddaughter.
"Apple," he said. "That's her favorite."
His mother's practiced smile slipped for a moment and became real. "Just like Callie when she was that age."
There. She'd said it. The ice had been broken.
His father, however, leaped in to patch up the damage. "So tell me about your flight," he boomed, sitting on the couch opposite Hunter and Daisy. "Did you take one of those new airbuses they're so crazy about in Europe? Don't care too much for them myself. Give me a good old Boeing 747 any day. Good enough for the space shuttle and it's good enough for me."
His parents' impersonal chatter had never much bothered him. He'd grown up with their abridged view of the world and accepted it for what it was. Today, however, it was driving him right up the wall.
Damn it, but he wanted more. Living with Jeannie, he had begun to see a better way. You could be happy in life. Really happy. Not just biding your time until they put you in the ground. He and Jeannie hadn't begun to scratch the surface with each other but at least they had the excuse of knowing each other less than two months.
He'd known his parents all his life and he still had no idea what made them tick.
His mother hurried in with iced tea and the juice. She handed him the bottle. This is Callie's daughter, he thought as he gave the bottle to Daisy. This is all you have left of the baby you carried forty years ago. Were they going to let this opportunity slip away without even holding her in their arms?
He showed them a picture of Jeannie on their wedding day and they made the appropriate comments. To his own amazement, the whole story of Michael Burnett and Jeannie's escape to Hawaii came pouring out. They weren't the kind of parents who were comfortable with any degree of emotion, and there he was spilling his guts for all to see.
But then again up until last month he hadn't been all that different, had he? Keeping life at a distance, safe behind a screen. He'd accepted his beautiful wife at face value and never once tried to discover who lived behind it.
Daddy's Girl (Bachelor Fathers) Page 14