[The Sons of Lily Moreau 01] - Remodeling the Bachelor
Page 12
She closed her eyes for a moment. If only.“I hope so. I can’t keep bailing himout.”Philippe was smiling like he knew something she didn’t. “Sure you can,”he told her. Though she might protest otherwise, he had afeeling that she was one of those people for whom family loyalty meanteverything. He could readily identify with that.“You wouldn’t be you if youdidn’t.”
“You don’t know so much about me.”
Philippe laughed. Now there she was very, very wrong.“Sorry to contradict you,but this is the age of the Internet, Janice. I know a great deal about you.”
God help her, she liked the way he said her name, as if it was purely feminine.
As if she was purely feminine. When had she last felt that way? Other than whenhe kissed her, she amended. “I know that you worked for your father at his construction company,”he toldher.“That he left Wyatt Construction to Gordon, not you. That within a veryshort period of time Gordon had to file a chapter 13 because he had borrowed soheavily against the company’s assets that Wyatt Construction couldn’t afford topay its men. And then the company wound up paying penalties because it couldn’tfinish jobs in accordance with the deadlines in the contracts.
“I know that you have a contractor’s license.”She’d told him that, but hestunned her by reciting the number, something she hadn’t told him.“And you’represently trying to regain your footing so that you can finally form your owncompany—after you finish paying off your brother’s bills.”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence in the hallway. How could there bethat much information floating around about her? But then, in this paperlesssociety, everything seemed to be drifting out there in cyberspace, waiting to benetted and pulled in like a school of salmon. Still, she couldn’t get over howextensive a job he’d done.
“You looked me up?”
He nodded.“Can’t just let anyone take a sledgehammer to my house,”he told her. He’d investigated her after he’d hired her. Motivated, he had to admit, more bycuriosity about the woman than a desire to protect himself against the possiblerash actions of a stranger.
Philippe shoved his hands into his pockets, knowing she probably wouldn’t likethe next suggestion. But sometimes, being there for a person meant not beingthere for them 24-7. It came under the prickly heading of tough love.“MaybeGordon should start paying off his own bills. It would probably make him feelbetter about himself.”
Funny, ordinarily she’d resent someone giving her advice on how to handle herbrother. But there was something in Philippe’s eyes that told her he meant well.
Besides, he was a brother, too. As the oldest, he probably knew what it meant tobe there for one or both of them. Janice shook her head.“The only money Gordon seems to make these days is themoney I pay him when I have a job that’s too big for just me. Whether I hand himthe money so he can pay the bills or I just pay the bills myself, it all boilsdown to my paying the monthly bills. Pretending it’s anything else is just anillusion.”
She watched, mesmerized, as his mouth curved again. Making her pulse skip.“Weall need illusions to sustain us.”
She sighed, knowing she didn’t have all the answers. Lately, it felt as if shehad very few of them.“Maybe you’re right.”
“I am.”The quick grin went directly to his eyes. And to her central core.
Janice had to concentrate not to let her breath back up. Not to allow herimagination to run away with her.“At least fifty percent of the time.”
“Hey, big spender,”Alain called from the dining room,“your hand’s gettingcold. You gonna come back and play or not?”
“You’d better go.”Janice nodded toward the rear of the house, feeling guiltyabout having monopolized him.“Your hand is calling.” Maybe it was, but other things called to him as well, he thought. Things thathad nothing to do with a hand of poker. Standing here at the threshold of hishome, the lighting sparse, he was incredibly aware of almost everything abouther. Aware of her close proximity, of the way her chest rose and fell with eachbreath. Damn, but he had this overwhelming urge to kiss her again.
He would have acted on it, but he knew that one of his brothers, cousins or evenher brother could come out looking for him. The last thing he wanted was toembarrass her. So he tightened his resolve and remained where he was, on the tipof the fence and dying to fall over to her side.
“Yeah,”he murmured.“Maybe I’d better go. See you tomorrow.” She nodded, turning to go. And then she turned around again.“Oh.”The singleword had him pivoting on his heel, looking at her again.“I meant to tell you,about my bringing Kelli today, it’s not going to be a permanent thing. I reallyam trying to find a babysitter for her during the day.”
Philippe shook his head.“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” “Don’t get another babysitter for her. I think it might upset her to be leftbehind with someone new. Besides, it’s important for a child to be around hermother.”He remembered how he’d felt every time he’d seen his mother go out thedoor, wondering if it was for the afternoon or if he wouldn’t be seeing her forweeks at a clip. Lily never liked telling him and his brothers that she wastaking off. She left that up to the nanny or her husband-of-the-moment.
Years later, in an off moment, she’d confided that the disappointed expressionon his face stayed with her for days, marring her joy over an upcoming show. Itwas easier for her just to slip away, like a mother leaving her child on thefirst day of kindergarten.
He’d caught on about her getaways long before she’d made her confession. Caughton and rather than confront her the next time she returned, worked at living hislife without any parental support or input. He told himself it didn’t matterthat she took off without warning as frequently as she did.
But in his heart, in the place where secrets were locked up, he knew that itdid. And that, too, made him leery of attachments. Because attachments meantdisappointments.
“All right,”she said slowly. She knew that Kelli would be more than happy tocome along with her to work. She was relieved that she wouldn’t have to facetelling her daughter that she was getting a new babysitter, someone besides Mrs.
McClonsky or Gordon. And she really hadn’t been looking forward to the tediousround of interviews for someone suitable to watch her daughter. Her eyes smiledat him, telegraphing her relief.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“I’m sure I don’t mind,”he assured her.“She’s a good kid, not to mentiongifted.”
Janice wondered if he really believed that or if he was just saying it becauseevery mother liked hearing such things.
Stop overanalyzing everything, she upbraided herself. Sometimes a raindrop isjust a raindrop and not the beginning of a flash flood.
Heartened, she drew back her shoulders and nodded amiably.“Okay, see youtomorrow.”
“Hey, Philippe—”Beau called, his voice all but booming.
“Coming. Keep your shirt on.”Philippe looked at her, suppressing, again, theurge to kiss her.“I’ll send him back early,”he promised.
And then winked. Obviously, winking was a family thing, Janice thought as she left. Except thatwhen Georges had winked at her, her stomach hadn’t suddenly flipped over andtied itself up in a knot.
She tried not to think about that as she all but flew back to her truck. The front door squeaked as it opened then closed. Gordon cursed under hisbreath, thinking for the dozenth time that he needed to oil that. The squeakprevented him from making an otherwise silent entrance home.
The second he heard the noise, he saw Janice. His sister had been stretched outon the sofa, a book housed on her chest, her eyes closed. They flew open as thesqueak penetrated her consciousness. She’d always been an incredibly lightsleeper. Unlike their father. But then, she didn’t have a quart of wine to lullher to sleep each night the way their father had.
He might as well face the music, he thought, walking into the living room. “Look, maybe I shouldn’t have snuck out of the house that way,”Gordon beganawkwardly, fe
eling like some tongue-tied teenager instead of a man talking tohis sister. His younger sister, for Pete’s sakes.
Still a little bleary-eyed, Janice stifled a yawn and sat up. It took her asecond to pull herself together. She wasn’t waiting up to take him to task, shewas waiting up to apologize.
“I’m sorry I made you feel that you had to sneak out.”Her words, she saw,surprised him.“It’s just that I worry about you.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t like her caring about him, it was just that sometimesit made him feel like he was in a straitjacket.
“Yeah, I know.”He shrugged.“But I think I’m good, now. Really.”He perched fora second on the arm of the sofa, right beside her.“I mean, I learned my lesson. Hell, bankruptcy, losing Pop’s company. Even if I didn’t like the company, Ididn’t mean for any of those things to happen,”he told her, silently asking herforgiveness for having screwed up so badly.
“I know.”Shifting over, she put her arm on his shoulder, reaching up as far asshe could.“I know.”She rose to her feet, tossing the book down on the coffeetable. The bookmark slipped out. She picked it up and left it on top of thebook, too tired to search for the passage it had been marking.“Well, I’m goingto bed.”
He stared at her back, dumbfounded as she began to walk away.“Don’t you want toknow how I did?”
Since it wasn’t for money, fear had been taken out of the equation.“Okay, howd’you do?”
“I won.”He was grinning like a kid who’d been awarded a lifetime supply of hisfavorite flavor of ice cream.“Philippe’s brother, Alain, has to wash my car.
Did you know he’s studying to be a lawyer?”That part pleased him the most,having an almost-lawyer working for him, however briefly. “No,”she admitted,“I didn’t know that.”She didn’t know very much aboutPhilippe and his family. Nowhere near the amount of information that Philippehad amassed on her, she thought. Maybe it was time she put her hand to theInternet—tomorrow, she added silently, stifling another yawn.
“Maybe I should have gone to law school,”he murmured under his breath,following her up the stairs to his own bedroom. “Never too late to try,”she told him as cheerfully as she could. It was aphilosophy she held dear to her own heart, but right now, given her presentstate, it lacked conviction.
He stopped mid-nod as another thought hit him.“But then who’d help you?”
“I’d be lost without you.”
Pretending to be resigned, Gordon nodded, smiling to himself.“Nice to know.”
“Hey, I’d always be lost without you,”she told him firmly. Philippe was right, Janice thought grudgingly as she walked into her bedroom andclosed the door behind her. The faint scent of vanilla wafted to her, comingfrom yesterday’s pile of folded laundry that she hadn’t put away yet. Herbrother needed to build up his self-esteem before he could be expected to fly.
Okay, so she owed Philippe, she told herself. She’d never liked owing anyone,even people she liked. She was going to have to find a way to settle up in thenear future. But right now, she needed to get some sleep if she intended to beof any use tomorrow morning.
She slept fitfully, dreaming of a man with green eyes, a magnetic smile and hairthe color of the heart ofmidnight . They fell into a routine, despite the fact that every day brought newchallenges, new work. The routine entailed that she and Gordon, with Kelli intow, would show up at Philippe’s doorstep each morning at exactly seven. OnceKelli was set up with either her easel or a book, she and Gordon would get downto work. They kept at whatever needed doing for the better part of four hours.
More than once, she’d pass by and catch Philippe admiring Kelli’s work or givingthe little girl pointers regarding her art. He was also the one Kelli turned towhen she couldn’t sound out a word. Hungry for a father figure, Kelli quicklytransferred her affections to Philippe, lapping up any attention he gave herlike a hungry puppy.
Janice noted that unlike the first few days, Philippe now kept his office dooropen. And as likely as not, Kelli would wander in to ask a question or offer anopinion about what she saw on his computer monitor. Or just to talk. AndPhilippe, Kelli told them proudly over meals, would always stop whatever he wasdoing to listen to her.
At around eleven, she and Gordon would break for lunch. Left on her own, shewould work longer, but her brother tended to flag after four hours, needing toreplenish his energy. Most of the time, Philippe would join them.
That had been her doing, inviting him to sample some of the food she’d broughtwith her in what Kelli referred to as“Mama’s picnic basket.”After a while,Philippe didn’t need inviting, he just joined them when eleven rolled around, tosit and eat and talk amid the dust and the debris.
At times she’d just pull back and observe what was going on, as if she wasn’tpart of it. It always warmed her heart and, most of all, made her wish thatthings wouldn’t end.
Because in this present framework, she could tell herself that she wasn’tfalling for the man, wasn’t risking too much. AfterGary had died she’d swornnever to put herself out there again, never expose her heart. Crushed again. Herparents and Gary had all left her in one way or another. She refused to endurethat feeling of loss again.
But each time their hands accidentally touched, or she saw Philippe take timefrom his incredibly busy schedule to share a moment with her daughter, she feltsomething. Something strong. A pull that drew her directly to him—and made herdream, wishing things were different. Wishing she weren’t afraid.
But she was and it was fear she hid behind. Philippe had asked her out several times now and each time she’d made politeexcuses—just strongly enough to hold him at bay, not strongly enough to rebuffhim.
What the hell was she doing? she silently demanded of herself more than once. Hewas going to get tired of hearing excuses and stop asking. And that, she knew,was for the best.
And yet—
And yet she didn’t want him to stop asking. Didn’t want him to back away.
You don’t know what you want, she admonished herself. And it was true. “You’re playing games, J.D. Never knew you to play games before,”Gordoncommented right after lunch one day. They’d been on the job for five weeks.
Philippe had gone back to his office and she was clearing away the empty pizzabox.
Overhearing, Kelli was quick to come to her defense.“Mama plays lots of games.”
Janice offered her daughter what she hoped was an innocent, approving smilebefore turning to Gordon.“We’ll talk about this later.” Gordon shook his head.“I’m not the one you should be talking to.”The look hegave her was pregnant with meaning. And just in case she missed it, he indicatedPhilippe’s office with his eyes.
Before she had a chance to tell her brother that none of this was any of hisbusiness, the front door suddenly opened. Lily sailed in majestically, takingthe room—and attention—as if it rightfully belonged only to her.
The second the artist entered, Kelli abandoned her easel and raced to Lily as ifthe woman was a favorite aunt. Or a beloved grandmother. Neither of which shehad. Rather than just fluff her off, Lily got down to the little girl’s level and puther arms around her. The hug was both warm and genuine and it was difficult todetermine who enjoyed it more, the woman or the child.
“Hello, everyone,”Lily declared in her clear theatrical voice as she regainedher feet again. She looked directly at Gordon and then at her.“Didn’t mean tointerrupt anything.”
Janice saw the amused look on Philippe’s face as he entered from the hallway. Heleaned against one wall, folding his arms before him. She had a feeling thatthey were both thinking the same thing: that it was a lie. Lily Moreau likednothing more than making a grand entrance and bringing everything to a grindinghalt by her mere presence. The woman clearly thrived on the spotlight, even ifit was only the kind cast by a child’s flashlight.
Chapter 12
“So, you are coming, aren’t you?”Still holding on to Kelli’s hand, Lily lookedat her son expectantly, waiting for a confirmation.
“Men. They never seem to retain anything in their heads except for a woman’smeasurements.”She sighed again, her attention returning to Philippe.“To myopening, of course.”
He pretended to consider her words carefully.“Didn’t I already go to it?” This time, the note of exasperation was genuine.“No, you didn’t already go toit— because it was postponed.”She waved a bejeweled hand dismissively, as ifthings only happened to either impede or enhance her daily life.“Somethingabout the gallery owner coming down with a colossal case of gastritis or somesuch ailment. In any event, he closed down the gallery for two weeks.”Shefrowned at such sacrilege.“In my day, you sucked it up for art and soldieredon.”
Philippe grinned.“Especially for a Lily Moreau showing.” “Exactly.”And then her turquoise eyes swept over the two other adults in thepartially reconstructed room.“You’re welcomed to come, too.”She paused for amoment, looking at the coveralls that Janice was wearing.“But it is formal.”
Janice never cracked a smile as she glanced down at the faded blue denim.“Iguess that means I get to wear my strapless overalls.” Lily surprised her by taking it in stride.“Very funny, dear.”The woman studiedher torso, circling once before nodding.“I have clothes I can lend you.”Sheturned to her son.“You can bring her to the house, Philippe. Give her anythingshe wants.”
Panic pricked at Janice’s belly. This was getting way too personal, too social.
Her first reaction was to back away, to withdraw before there were consequences.
“No, wait, I really don’t think I can—”
But Kelli was already tugging on her arm. One look at the small, upturned faceand Janice knew what was in her daughter’s heart.“Please, Mama?” “Yes,‘please Mama,’”Lily echoed for good measure, never once assuming that itwould be any other way than how she wanted it to be.“It’ll be good for thechild,”she assured Janice.“She should have exposure to the arts.”