The Birth Mother

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  He was gorgeous, with his deep brown eyes and strong chin that jutted just enough to give him character without being obnoxious. And the clothes he was wearing definitely fit his body to perfection. While they weren’t as formal, even with the tie, as the occasion demanded, they were courtesy of one of Atlanta’s more expensive tailors, according to the label on his pocket. And he had a ponytail. She looked back at the painting she’d been studying, ignoring him. She was going to get Tanya for this.

  “Kind of thought-provoking isn’t it?”

  His voice did things to her he should be ashamed of. “It’s supposed to be.”

  He stepped forward, just as Dennis’s senile old aunt came wandering around the corner.

  “Oomph!” Aunt Abigail exclaimed as she careered into Jennifer’s handsome companion, dumping the contents of her purse all over the floor in the process.

  The man was on his haunches before Jennifer was even sure what was happening, helping the flustered old woman gather her belongings. Jennifer bent down, as well, retrieving a lipstick that had rolled to the wall.

  “Where you headed, Auntie?” Jennifer asked, concerned that the woman was on her own. The members of the Bradford family took turns keeping Aunt Abigail in their homes and included her in everything they did. They also never let her out of their sight.

  “Oh, Jennifer, it’s you,” the old woman said, patting her breast as she smiled at Jennifer, obviously relieved. “Dear me, where did all this stuff come from?” She was kneeling down beside the man, holding her purse open while he deposited the various notes and hankies that Aunt Abigail always carried back inside.

  “I think that’s it,” he said, the tenderness in his voice doing strange things to Jennifer.

  “I dropped my purse, you know,” the old woman said, as if he hadn’t been there to see the whole thing. “I came around the corner looking at one of dear Tara’s pictures. Such a sweet girl Dennis married. Dennis is my nephew. The son of my only sister’s daughter, Abigail the second. She was named after me, you know. He’s quite a fine lad, don’t you think?” she asked, turning to Jennifer.

  “He’s the best friend I’ve ever had,” Jennifer said, as if it was the first time she’d told the old woman that. Truth was they had this same conversation every time they saw each other. Aunt Abigail’s memory was almost nonexistent, but she always remembered that Jennifer was somehow associated with the family through Dennis.

  Tanya’s marriage prospect glanced at Jennifer over Aunt Abigail’s head, his dark eyes full of understanding. Jennifer looked back at the old woman, willing her heart to settle back to its normal pace.

  “I think that’s everything, Auntie,” she said, rising. The man helped the old woman to her feet, holding her gently by the shoulders until she steadied herself.

  “Thank you, young man. You’re a true gentleman. I must say.” Aunt Abigail held up her wallet, opening it with slightly unsteady hands. “I’ll bet you’ve never seen this before, have you.”

  “I don’t believe I have,” the man replied.

  Jennifer watched him, impressed with his patience. Aunt Abigail went through phases where she had her wallet out every few minutes, looking through it and trying to show its contents to whichever family member was closest.

  She pulled out a plastic card. “See this? It says Abigail Swenson. That’s me.”

  The man nodded. “That’s your health-insurance card. A good thing to have.”

  The old woman preened under his praise, pulling out a driver’s license that was no longer valid.

  “That’s me, too,” she said, pointing to the name printed there. “Abigail Swenson, it says. But what’s this?” she asked, frowning at the little plastic card.

  “It’s your driver’s license, Auntie,” Jennifer said.

  “Oh, yes, yes it is. My driver’s license. Issued by the state of Georgia, see? Did you know they won’t let me drive anymore?” she asked, looking at the man.

  “I didn’t know that,” he said, “but I can see where it has its advantages. You don’t ever have to be designated driver that way.”

  Aunt Abigail giggled. “I never thought of that. I like you. You’re a smart young man—”

  “Oh, there you are, Auntie. I’ve been searching all over for you!” Dennis appeared around the corner, looking relieved.

  “You worry too much, dear boy. I was just making the acquaintance of Jennifer’s young man.”

  “Sorry, Jen,” Dennis said, nodding briefly at the man standing beside Jennifer as he led his aunt away. If Jennifer had needed any confirmation that the stranger was one of Tanya’s handpicked marriage contenders, she’d just had it. Dennis hadn’t been able to escape fast enough.

  “I guess I’ll go look around. Care to join me?” the man asked. Damn. That ponytail interested her more than it had any right doing.

  “No, but thanks. I was just leaving,” she said. Okay, so she was a coward, but getting involved with a gorgeous man who wanted to settle down was pointless when Teal Automotive was consuming so much of her life. And men with marriage in mind were the only type Tanya ever sent her way. Damn.

  BRYAN STOOD in the gallery watching Jennifer Teal walk away. He’d never liked society functions, but this one had him more on edge than most. He was a little too warm, his heart beating just a little too fast. And his tie was suffocating him. He desperately wanted to rip it off and get some fresh air, and not just because of the melodious voice still ringing in his ears. He’d just met Nicki’s mother. That was all that mattered to him.

  Impatient with the time it was taking the private detective he’d hired to find him an in, he’d decided to attend tonight’s opening as soon as he’d read about Jennifer Teal’s expected presence at the gallery in the morning paper. He’d thought he’d missed her until he’d accidentally bumped into the diminutive artist, Tanya Bradford. That good lady, while involving him in a recitation about one of her paintings, had pointed Ms. Teal out to him, simply because Ms. Teal had been standing in front of the piece in question.

  She’d surprised him. He’d expected her poise, her wit, even her intelligence. He just hadn’t expected to find her so attractive. He hadn’t expected to like her.

  Bryan caught a glimpse of the old woman who’d bumped into him earlier across the room. Auntie, Jennifer Teal had called her. And suddenly, seeing Ms. Teal not only as Nicki’s birth mother but as a woman with a family, made him feel guilty as hell about what he was doing. Barging into a beautiful woman’s life with an agenda of his own, fully knowing he might hurt her. It wasn’t his style, but then neither was a home, possessions, the tie he was wearing. But for Nicki…

  Jennifer Teal might not look like anybody’s mother, but he knew better. Loosening his tie, he turned to go. Nicki was depending on him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  JENNIFER STILL HADN’T found her man. She and Dennis had interviewed people from more than fifteen advertising agencies in the two weeks since Tanya’s opening, both local and out of state, and though several had seemed promising, not one had fully understood what she was trying to do.

  Most of the ideas she’d seen would sell One Price to the public. But she didn’t only want to sell One Price. She wanted to sell integrity. She needed someone with enough sensitivity to see the difference.

  She pushed away from her desk and the file she was supposed to be perusing in preparation for another interview with another representative from another fast-paced, nineties-type ad agency. She didn’t need to see the file. She could probably recite its contents by rote, having read fifteen other identical folders over the past two weeks.

  She walked around her office, looking at the paintings Tanya had done for her. She wished she had more of her friend’s perception, envying Tanya the inner peace that allowed her to see the world around her so clearly.

  Her secretary’s voice piped into the room. “Your appointment’s here, Ms. Teal.”

  Jennifer punched the intercom button. “Thanks, Rachel. Please send him in.
”

  Dennis wasn’t going to be joining her that morning. He’d had to go someplace with Tanya. She’d heard his secretary mention a doctor’s appointment. And based on the fact that he and Tanya both had to be there, and the knowledge that neither of them had been sick, Jennifer had a suspicion what it might be about. She wondered who’d be more thrilled, Dennis or Tanya. And she wondered why she wasn’t more excited for her two best friends. Maybe she was just feeling a little left out because they hadn’t let her in on their secret.

  Her office door opened. “Mr. Chambers to see you, Ms. Teal,” Rachel said, her tone as professional as always.

  Jennifer offered her hand automatically, her mind still in the doctor’s office with her friends, until she saw who’d just walked into her office. The man from Tanya’s opening. The one she’d been thinking about ever since seeing him that night two weeks ago.

  “Oh. Hello,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as uncomfortable as she felt. She was barely aware of her secretary slipping silently from her office, but she knew when Rachel shut the door behind her. The huge room was suddenly confining, and a little too warm.

  “So we finally meet. Officially, that is.” His deep voice was just as she’d remembered.

  He was still holding her hand as he smiled the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. She pulled away from him and moved behind her desk. “I guess we do.”

  She didn’t know why he was here, but she wished he hadn’t come. He was a little harder to resist than the rest of Tanya’s husband prospects. He hadn’t told her his name that night at the opening, or she would’ve known when Rachel announced him that he wasn’t the appointment she’d been waiting for.

  “You don’t sound too pleased. Have I done something to offend you?”

  She may have remembered his voice, but her memory had done an injustice to the rest of him. His jeans, so faded they were almost white, were tight enough to leave very little to the imagination. And his shirt was equally sexy. It was faded, too, and cotton, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, leaving his tanned muscular forearms right out in plain view. And his hair…

  “I was expecting an ad man,” she said, wondering why she was so fascinated by his ponytail.

  “And you got one.” He settled into the chair in front of her desk.

  Damn. She had to admire Tanya’s ingenuity. Tanya had known Jennifer was looking for an ad man, but Jennifer had no idea how Tanya had managed to find one who was also ready to get married. Jennifer sat down, feeling foolish standing over him, and over-dressed, too, in her stylish business suit. “Okay, you can tell Tanya you tried, but you’re wasting your time,” she said.

  He stood, but instead of leaving as she’d expected, he moved to the couch, taking his sketchbook with him. “I happen to believe I’m using my time very wisely. Coming over?” He indicated the spot beside him on the couch.

  His jeans were even more illuminating when he was sitting down. It was hard not to stare. Grabbing a yellow legal pad and pen, she crossed to the couch and sat down beside him. If he’d actually prepared something to show her, the least she could do was listen. But she wasn’t going to hire him.

  “I’d like to center our campaign around you,” he began, “because you are Teal Automotive. The entire basis of One Price Selling is integrity, gaining the trust of your customers. They need to trust you.“

  Jennifer got goose bumps.

  “One Price Selling is not a gimmick,” he went on, “so the usual gimmick advertising will sell it short. Which is why we need to approach this up front, from the top—which again means you. You have a sterling reputation, Ms. Teal. You’ve built your success on honest business practices, on fairness and customer service, and now it’s up to us to make sure that everyone in Atlanta knows that.”

  The man was good. He was dressed like a construction worker, carried a sketchbook for a briefcase and wore a ponytail, but he knew his stuff. And more important he’d seen what she was trying to do. She suddenly had a vision of him reading Aunt Abigail’s health-insurance card.

  “What did you say your name was?” she asked.

  “Bryan Chambers, of Innovative Advertising,” he said, looking perplexed. “Didn’t you get the file I sent over?”

  The File. She should have read the damn file. “Tanya didn’t send you?”

  “Your secretary called mine to set up the appointment.”

  Jennifer could feel herself turning red, a reaction left over from the days when she’d been so aware of being a burden that self-consciousness had become a way of life. “And you weren’t at the art gallery that night because Tanya wanted you to meet me?”

  “Tanya Bradford, the artist? I’d never met her before that night.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly, as much of a fool as she’d made of herself, Jennifer felt wonderful. She looked at the unusual and oh-so-sexy man beside her and smiled. He wasn’t there because he wanted to get married. He was just an ad man. A gorgeous ad man.

  He smiled back at her. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?” he asked. His sensual brown eyes lingered on hers just a little longer than was necessary.

  “I’m afraid so, Mr. Chambers. But I’m impressed with your ideas. How soon can you make it back to meet my vice president?”

  “Call me Bryan. And is tomorrow soon enough?”

  CALL ME, Uncle Bryan. Please call me. Nicki lay on her bed staring at the clock, watching the second hand tick past the two, and then the three, constantly ticking, until five more minutes passed with a still-silent phone. He’d said he’d call.

  Her stomach was filled with butterflies. She wasn’t going to cry. It made her more scared to cry. But what if he didn’t come home? What if…

  Her future stretched out before her, a gray scary blob. She blinked, making the picture go away. She wasn’t going to be scared. Nothing was going to happen to Uncle Bryan. He’d probably just forgotten he’d said he’d call if he was ever going to be later than five o’clock. ‘Cause he’d never had to check in with anybody before.

  It was just that he’d always been home by fourthirty—every single day since she’d come to Atlanta. She knew. She watched the clock every day. She always felt tons better the minute he walked in the door. She loved him so much. She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost him, too.

  Maybe he was tired of having her around. Other than him dying, that was what scared her most. Sometimes she lay awake in the middle of the night and got crazy just thinking about him not wanting her anymore. She’d heard her mom and grandma joke about Uncle Bryan’s wanderlust often enough. But Grandma used to worry about it sometimes, too. Nicki had heard her telling Grandpa once that she was afraid Uncle Bryan’s roots were going to shrivel up and die if he didn’t plant them somewhere soon. Nicki didn’t know about all that, but she knew she just couldn’t picture Uncle Bryan ever settling down to a normal boring life.

  Oh, God, please help me. Please let Uncle Bryan come home. I promise I won’t get in his way. Just let him come home.

  Five-thirty. The clock kept ticking. Nicki’s eyes were so dry they hurt, but she kept watching the steady rhythm of the second hand going round and round. Her legs were getting stiff, but she wasn’t going to move. Not until Uncle Bryan got home. She just had to wait long enough. He’d be home.

  He might’ve gotten in an accident. He could get hurt bad if somebody ran into his Jeep. Especially if he took off the roof and let it all be open. Maybe he was at the hospital. Maybe they were working on him right now! Her stomach started to ache like she might throw up.

  Even if he was at the hospital, it didn’t mean he was going to die. Maybe he just had some broken bones or needed stitches. He might not be able to take care of them while he was healing, but Nicki didn’t care. She could take care of both of them. She’d stay home from school and fetch and cook and clean all day if she had to, and she didn’t even care if he was a really grouchy patient like Grandpa when he’d had that heart surgery. Uncle Bryan could yell at her all day if he want
ed to, just as long as he came home to her.

  Nicki started to shiver. She got cold a lot lately. She thought about pulling her bedspread around her, but she didn’t want to move. Her fingers were cold, too, but they were still sweaty against her cheek where she lay on them. Her future stretched out before her, a gray scary blob—

  The phone rang.

  Nicki’s heart started to pound so hard she could feel it in her chest as she stared at the Snoopy phone Uncle Bryan had bought her. What if it was the hospital? Or the police? But they came to the front door, didn’t they? Especially since she was just a kid. She started to relax. It must be Uncle Bryan.

  Jumping up, Nicki ran to the phone, counting the rings. She knew Uncle Bryan’s machine picked up on the fifth ring, so she’d get it on the fourth. She didn’t want him to think she’d been waiting by the phone like some ninny. She didn’t want him to feel like he had to report to her or anything.

  The third ring pealed into the silent house. Nicki took a deep breath. “Hello?” she said, making sure she didn’t sound too eager.

  “Nick? I’m so sorry, honey. I’ve been with that new client I told you about for most of the afternoon, taping a series of radio spots, and after I dropped her off there was a huge wreck on Peachtree. And the damn battery on my mobile went dead so I couldn’t call, but I’m back at the office now, and just as soon as I drop these things off I’ll be heading home. You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. He didn’t sound like Uncle Bryan the way he was rambling on. He sounded upset. Probably because he’d had to worry about checking in. If it wasn’t for her, it wouldn’t have mattered that his phone battery was dead.

  “I’m sorry if I worried you, honey. I’ll buy an extra battery for my phone so next time I’ll have a backup.”

  She was causing more trouble and she didn’t even mean to. “It’s okay, Uncle Bryan. You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t worried.”

  “Oh.” A pause. “So whatcha been doing?”

  She looked over at the clock, at the name written in little black letters where the second hand connected to the minute hand. “Reading.”