The Birth Mother

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “How about if I come get you and we head to the Lightning Bolt? We can get some hot dogs or something from the concession while we play.”

  Nicki didn’t mind about the hot dogs, but she hated the arcade Uncle Bryan seemed to love so much. She wasn’t much good at the games he wanted her to learn so badly, and she probably made him bored she was so easy to beat, not that he’d show her he was bored. But even worse than the games, all those people made her nervous. There were more people in the Lightning Bolt at one time than had lived in the whole town of Shallowbrook. And lots of them were boys almost as big as Uncle Bryan, and they wore dirty blue jeans. “Okay,” she said. She’d already been enough of a pain for one day.

  When they said their goodbyes she hung up the phone slowly, glad that Uncle Bryan was all right. And a night at the Lightning Bolt wouldn’t be that bad. Not if she was with Uncle Bryan. She was just going to have to get used to all the people in Atlanta, to going out a lot. She wanted to live with Uncle Bryan forever, and she knew that before she came he’d never stayed home. She couldn’t make him change any more than he already had or he was going to get tired of her way before she was all grown-up.

  She brushed her hair and changed her clothes, putting on jeans and the Atlanta Hawks T-shirt Uncle Bryan had bought her. She was going to need a bra soon. Most of the girls in her class already had one, and sometimes Nicki wondered if there was something the matter with her that her breasts were only just now starting to grow. She wondered if her mother—her real mother—had been a late grower, too. One thing for sure, there was no way she could ask Uncle Bryan what he thought. He’d probably never come home again.

  And as she sat on her bed counting the minutes until she heard Uncle Bryan’s Jeep pull into the driveway, she wondered for the hundredth time what would happen when she turned eighteen and Uncle Bryan didn’t have to keep her anymore. She wondered if he’d be so tired of her, so mad she’d ruined his life for all those years, that he’d leave and she’d never see him again.

  Her future stretched out before her, a gray scary blob…

  BRYAN CHECKED his mobile as he pulled onto the lot of Teal Hyundai. He was spending the afternoon with Jennifer Teal again, today taping a couple of television commercials, and he wanted to be certain that Nicki could reach him if she needed to. Not that she’d ever called him. But it had scared the hell out of him the week before when he’d realized his mobile had been dead all afternoon. He’d had visions of Nicki needing him and not being able to reach him, of her being all alone and unable to cope. He’d been tempted to abandon his Jeep in the traffic jam on Peachtree and walk to the nearest phone just to assure himself that she was all right. Only the thought that he’d probably get there faster by waiting out the traffic had kept him in his seat.

  Teal Hyundai was a far cry from Teal Cadillac, the dealership he’d visited the day before when trying to determine where to shoot the commercials. Gone were the glitzy mirrored windows and high-tech design he’d first thought would make a good backdrop for the TV spots, and in their place were brick walls and plain glass windows. The only decoration was the Teal Hyundai painted on the windows alongside the blue-and-white Teal logo.

  This is where he wanted Jennifer’s viewers to see her. Teal Hyundai would appeal to the lower-income car buyers, and her appearance there would make her seem accessible to them. Or so he hoped. He wasn’t at all sure how well the classy lady would look in such humble surroundings. Maybe he should have gone with the Cadillac dealership, after all.

  And maybe he should never have taken the job in the first place. But when the detective he’d hired had called him with the news that Jennifer Teal was looking for a new advertising firm for a special project she was working on, he’d decided the chance was too good to pass up. He wasn’t so sure anymore. He was spending too much time thinking about his newest client.

  Jake Landers and Bob McKinney, his film crew, were already set up on the lot just as he’d instructed them. They waved as he parked his Jeep. All they needed now was Jennifer. He got out of the Jeep and crossed the lot toward the tile-floored showroom. She was probably waiting inside.

  A sleek blue vintage Mustang pulled onto the lot in front of him, and Bryan stopped, admiring the car. He’d always had a thing for Ford’s famous sports car, the older the better. He’d bet this one was at least a ‘66. Maybe even a ‘65. Now that he had a garage, he should look into getting one himself. Could be that was just what he needed—a new toy.

  Bryan was so busy admiring the car that it took him a minute to realize who’d just climbed out of it.

  But only a minute. She looked more beautiful every time he saw her, every bit as sleek and elegant as her car. She was wearing a black short-skirted suit, a perfect contrast to the wavy auburn curls pinned up in that twist thing on the back of her head. He wouldn’t mind her for a toy, either, only this one he’d keep in his new bedroom.

  Except that she was Nicki’s mother.

  “Nice car,” he said, meeting her in the middle of the lot.

  She smiled at him, a friendly glad-to-see-you smile. “Thanks. Sorry I’m late, I got stuck on the phone. I’ve never been good at cutting people off.”

  “No problem. I just got here myself.” He smiled, too, putting his hand in the small of her back as he guided her toward the camera.

  His fears about her looking “right” at this dealership were quickly put to rest. She fit into Teal Hyundai as naturally as she had Teal Lincoln Mercury the week before. After two hours of following her and Bob and Jake around the dealership, Bryan was as perplexed as ever about her. She had a hell of a talent for names. No matter who they passed, from janitor to sales manager, she was outgoing, friendly and called every one of them by name. But what was even more impressive was their obvious ease with her. They treated her with respect, which was probably a given considering that she signed their paychecks, but they seemed to genuinely like her, too.

  She turned to speak to an elderly female customer waiting in the service area, and for a second there, he saw Nicki in the tilt of her chin. After listening to the woman’s complaints, Jennifer led her into the dealership’s waiting lounge and to the comfort of a couch. Then she brought the woman a cup of coffee and promised her she’d get someone on her car as soon as possible.

  She did, too. She walked back out to the service area and conferred with the service manager about how to get the woman’s car fixed immediately without inconveniencing any other customers. And then, outside in the lot, she apologized to Jake and Bob for the interruption, the Atlanta sunshine catching the gold glints in her chestnut hair. Nicki’s hair.

  He was puzzled. How was it a woman so outgoing, so giving to others, could keep herself hidden from her own child? He could certainly understand why, at sixteen, she gave up the child, but it seemed odd that a woman like her wouldn’t have, at some point, wanted to meet the child she’d given birth to. See if she was well cared for, happy, especially in these days of open adoption.

  She obviously hadn’t, though, because the birth had not been registered with any of the search-and-find services.

  Didn’t Jennifer care that her daughter might be out there somewhere, wanting to know her, needing her?

  Or was Teal Automotive the only child she cared about? Bryan was aware that public knowledge of her having had a child out of wedlock and giving it up for adoption could damage Jennifer’s reputation somewhat and possibly hurt the One Price campaign. So was her business the reason she hadn’t registered?

  She caught his eye as Jake stopped to load another tape. He gave her a thumbs-up and she smiled, not looking away until Jake called her back to the cue cards Bob was holding. So she felt it, too, this attraction between them. Damn.

  He wondered if she was seeing anyone. He knew she lived alone, that she wasn’t seen publicly with the same man with any regularity. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a private liaison going on. He wondered about Nicki’s biological father. Was she still in contact with him?
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  Nicki’s birth certificate had said “father unknown.” But Jennifer had only been fifteen when she’d conceived Nicki. Surely there hadn’t been a lot of candidates for the daddy. Or, God forbid, had she been raped? Surprised at the rage that filled him at that thought, Bryan determined he had to have some time alone with her, get her to talk to him. As soon as possible. For both their sakes. True, Jennifer was trusting him to do this campaign for her. But Nicky was relying on him, too. And if push came to shove, Nicky’s interests were number one.

  “As soon as possible” turned out to be two hours later as he and Jennifer sat in her office, viewing the videotape Jake had shot that afternoon.

  “I’d like Dennis to take a look at this before we make any final decisions,” she said, “but I like the service area for a background better than the lot. What do you think?”

  Bryan sat beside her on the couch, smelling her perfume as they leaned forward studying the console television screen. He’d never seen such a naturally beautiful woman in his life. As hard as he looked, and he’d looked damn hard, he couldn’t find anything artificial about her.

  “I think very few people are going to notice the background,” he said.

  She looked startled by the compliment, but pleased, too.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He knew he should look away, that their eyes were saying things to each other that should never be said, yet he couldn’t seem to break the silent communication.

  “How come you’ve never married?” he asked, the videotape rolling on without them.

  She shrugged and turned her gaze away. “Never found the right guy, I guess.”

  “Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong places.”

  “Maybe.” She glanced back at him. “What about you? I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger, either.”

  “I’m a bad candidate for marriage. My soul’s too restless.”

  She laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that I’ve never been able to stick at anything long enough to make me think I could stay with one woman for eternity.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself. I finally read that file you sent over, you know. It said you’ve had Innovative Advertising for almost ten years. That sounds like sticking at it to me.” She grinned at him.

  “I also have a partner. I can take my restless soul off when I need to.”

  “Why do you need to?” Her grin faded, her eyes now serious.

  “You ever have the feeling that something great is happening on the other side of the hill and you’re missing the whole thing?”

  He thought he saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “Sometimes.”

  “Me, too,” he said. “A lot of times. So I guess, until I know why it is I keep feeling that way, I’ll keep heading over that hill.”

  “Be careful you don’t get lost.”

  “Yeah.”

  He wanted to kiss her. He was pretty sure she wanted him to kiss her, too.

  “I’ll bet you loved the Ferris wheel when you were a kid,” she said, smiling again.

  “You think I like going around in circles?”

  “No!” She touched his arm, her fingers cool and featherlight. “Don’t you remember how high it used to go? Almost to the sky. Certainly high enough to see over that hill.”

  He couldn’t look away from her lips, couldn’t stop wondering what they would taste like, how they would feel beneath his. He’d been wondering for weeks.

  She was looking at his lips, too, and running her tongue across her own.

  Bryan wasn’t aware of leaning toward her, but he wasn’t surprised when she met him halfway. Her lips were hesitant as he covered them with his own, not really kissing him back so much as allowing his caress. He pulled her into his arms and deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to her, coaxing her to invite him inside.

  He lit like a flame to gasoline when she did. No woman had ever excited him as quickly, as completely, as this one did.

  Holy hell.

  He pulled away from Jennifer, stunned. “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his hand across his face. “I was out of line there. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’ve never attacked a client before.” His attempt at a joke failed miserably.

  “It’s okay. It was only a kiss,” she said lightly, but she wasn’t breathing any easier than he was.

  He’d just kissed Nicki’s mother. Where in hell’s my brain?

  “So what’s the real reason you’re not married?” he asked, needing to get his answers and get out.

  He reached for the TV control and turned off the videotape, while she scooted farther away from him on the couch.

  “I got burned once.”

  “What happened?”

  She got up and went over to her desk, leaning back against it. “Nothing very unusual, I’m afraid. You know the old story…I loved him, he didn’t love me back kind of thing.”

  Bryan found that hard to believe. The guy must have been crazy. But was he also Nicki’s father?

  “And you never met anyone else?”

  “Believe it or not, I just haven’t had the time.”

  Bryan stood up. He was getting nowhere. “You haven’t had time to date?”

  She smiled. “I’ve dated some great guys. I’m just not ready to invest the time a good relationship takes.”

  Did that mean she wouldn’t have time for a daughter, either? “What about a family?”

  “Tanya and Dennis are all the family I need.”

  Bryan would have stopped right then and there. He would have gone home and told Nicki that he couldn’t find her mother, that she was dead, anything to keep his niece from coming face-to-face with a mother who didn’t have time for her. He would have—if he hadn’t seen the wistfulness in Jennifer’s eyes. He didn’t know if the look had anything to do with Nicki. He had no idea if Jennifer had any motherly tendencies at all. He just knew he couldn’t leave it like that.

  “I’ve got tickets for the symphony Thursday night,” he said, hoping Calvin hadn’t already given the tickets away. “A couple of days isn’t much notice, but can you come?”

  “Yes. I’d like that.” Her smile had him wanting her all over again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JENNIFER FELT like a girl preparing for her first date. She’d never met a man who attracted her so much, who seemed so perfect for her. He was intelligent, successful, gorgeous as sin—and no more ready to get married than she was.

  She wore her navy silk jumpsuit with matching pumps, liking the way the outfit pinched in at her waist and covered enough of her chest to be circumspect, but still left an enticing amount of skin bare. She even pinned a navy silk bow into the twist on the back of her head, which made her feel particularly feminine. Jewelry was something she always allowed herself, and tonight she felt almost sensuous as the cool gold pendant settled between her breasts and gold glinted from her ears and wrists. As she took a last glance in the floor-length mirror in her bathroom, she felt like laughing. She was actually having fun.

  She did laugh when she answered the door to Bryan half an hour later.

  “What? You don’t like my tie?”

  It was blue and patterned with little yellow airplanes. “Your tie is fine. It’s the suspenders I’m not so sure about.”

  He hooked his thumbs into the matching blue-and-yellow suspenders. “Too much, huh?” he asked.

  Jennifer looked him over one more time. The suspenders held his shirt tightly against his chest, giving testimony to the fact that the man was all muscle. “No, I like them,” she said. And she did. A lot. Almost as much as she liked his ponytail.

  “Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, looking over her shoulder into the penthouse.

  “Thanks,” Jennifer said, self-conscious all of a sudden. She had a feeling he hated her home. To a man like him, it probably looked incredibly boring.

  She locked the door and followed him out to his Jeep.<
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  BRYAN HATED the symphony. Even more than he hated briefcases. He hated the stuffiness of it, the yuppiness. He didn’t want to keep up with the Joneses; he’d left them behind years ago. He certainly didn’t need to see or be seen. And he preferred his music with lyrics—and a little more volume.

  But he couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed an evening out more. He refused to call it a date; he’d set down the law for himself on that account. But whatever it was, it was the best one he’d had in years. Jennifer was different. She didn’t play games or flirt, didn’t make him wonder if she had a hidden agenda. She wasn’t shy, or coy, or easily embarrassed. And she didn’t seem to care about the Joneses, either.

  But neither did she say a lot about herself. Teal Automotive, sure. Her activities, the last charity dinner she’d attended, the Hawks’ chances to make it to the NBA playoffs, all were open for discussion. But Jennifer Teal, the woman inside the successful entrepreneur, remained a mystery.

  The second half of the symphony was well under way, and Bryan was still wide-awake. Amazing. He stole a glance at Jennifer. Her lips were lifted in just a hint of a smile as she watched the stage, engrossed in the music.

  His mind wandered from the concert hall to his bedroom, with Jennifer in it, her long wavy hair loose from its pins and spread across his sheet. There were no pillows on the bed. They’d been shoved to the floor hours before, and the covers were gone, too. Jennifer didn’t need to cover up. She lay sprawled before him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes and—

  Somebody’s beeper went off. Bryan was catapulted back to the present, irritated with whoever was being paged. One hell of a great fantasy had been interrupted.

  The beeper sounded again. Jennifer nudged his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you check that?” she whispered.

  His beeper. Damn. It was the first time in all the months he’d been carrying it that the thing had gone off.

  He jumped up out of his seat with complete disregard for the people behind him. “I’ll be back,” he said to Jennifer, already climbing over feet to get to the aisle. He didn’t need to check to see who was calling. He knew. There was only one person in the world who had his number. Only one person to whom he’d given twenty-four-a-day access to his time.