“I loved her like my own.”
As she’d long suspected, Frank had punished her for moving on. For wanting to live and not dry up and die in her grief. From somewhere deep inside, Irene found the strength of the younger woman who had married a single father with a twelve-year-old daughter. A daughter she’d tried her best to raise like she was her own.
Irene moved to the closet and began to pack her suitcase. Unworn dresses she’d brought to go out for a nice dinner or two—dinners she now knew would never materialize. Her pumps. Lingerie Frank didn’t notice. The swimsuit.
“Where are you going?” Frank demanded.
“I’m getting another hotel room. And you’re paying for it.”
“Are you out of your mind? We should be saving money now.”
Anger, unbridled and free, took the place of her pain. Why not? Frank had taught her how. She snapped the lid of her suitcase shut. “I guess that’s your problem now, isn’t it?”
And this time she meant it.
* * *
BY MONDAY, LEVI was back to work. He put in some more work on the mechanics of the sidelined plane with Jedd, took a few flight lessons and a flight to San Diego. He was alert and well rested.
That was a lie. He was alert but not well rested, and he’d blame that on his neighbor. He’d almost forgotten how much he loved sex. At least this time he was exhausted for all his favorite reasons.
Cute and Stuck-Up was not cute at all. She was freaking gorgeous. He knew this now because he’d explored and been up close and personal with every soft and sweet part of her—and there were a lot of sweet parts. She made tiny moans when he had her close, and when she finally let go for him, her whimpering sounds drew him right to the edge before he was ready. He’d had to fight hard to keep control.
“Oh my God, what’s wrong? Are we going down? Are we crashing?”
He was going to get Stone to stop handing him the difficult runs just because he was the new guy. Mary Helen Zelinski had a fear of flying she’d been working on for years. Her therapist had finally gotten her to the point where she could get inside a plane that wasn’t moving. That was last week. Today, Levi had calmly gone over the flight process and procedures. All of their many safety measures. Given her his credentials and flight record. They’d been in the air for ten minutes, Mary Helen white-knuckling it all the way.
“We’re fine, ma’am,” he said in his most assured, calm pilot voice—the same voice he’d use to announce, “We’re going down.” He left that part out. It was never going to happen, but still. No room for emotion in the cockpit. Fear or otherwise. It was the way he’d been trained and the way he lived his life.
“No! You can’t fool me. I’ve been watching you and you look distracted. Nervous. You keep checking that controller thingy. I saw Sully, too! It was part of my therapy. I read that all you pilots are like blocks of ice, so we’re probably all about to die!”
Levi had handled plenty in his decade-plus of flying, but he’d have to say that a panicked passenger seated directly behind him with her therapist was not one of them. Still, he wouldn’t let it rattle him. Or inform her that if there was any distraction at all here, it had to do with multiple orgasms and nothing else.
“Calm, Mary Helen, calm,” her therapist instructed. “Remember what we talked about. Our pilot has an impeccable safety record—”
“Which could end at any time!”
“Breathe.”
“We’ll head back now,” Levi said.
“Why does he suddenly sound like a robot? Dr. Campbell, if you make it, please tell my husband I love him. Also, I left him his favorite casserole. I knew this would happen.”
“We’re flying safely home,” Dr. Campbell said.
“Should I request an ambulance to meet us?” Levi said and immediately regretted it.
Damn. He was really off his game today.
“An ambulance? I knew it!” Mary Helen shrieked.
“For you, ma’am,” Levi said. “The rest of us won’t need one.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Campbell now had a definite edge to his voice.
Mary Helen went into overtime with the breathing. “I’m on a beach in Maui. I’m on a beach in Maui.”
Shit. So was he. On a sandy white beach with a gorgeous blonde... Carly. He executed his smoothest landing and taxied slowly enough to have been given a tranquilizer, all for Mary Helen, who now laughed and babbled about how she’d reached yet another milestone. He congratulated her, accepted her hug and silently hoped she’d never fly with him again.
He followed his passengers through the hangar. Mary Helen had a small group waiting for her with signs that read You Did It! and Partay Tonight!
“We need to talk,” Levi said through a tight jaw when he caught sight of Stone.
Stone simply nodded in the direction of his office. This would be good. Levi would tell Stone in no uncertain terms that he was sick of being used. Just because he was the NFG didn’t mean he got to have all of the shit assignments. He’d paid his dues. No more hysterical women. Or nervous dogs. He was drawing a line and that was final.
He stepped into the office, ready to tear Stone a new one, when he saw Mrs. Lane. She sat in a chair, hands folded on her lap. Eyes red rimmed. She’d been crying.
Super.
This one he couldn’t blame on Stone. “Something wrong?”
“I’ll give you two a few minutes alone.” Stone shut the door to his office.
“Yes, something’s wrong. My husband! He’s taken official leave of his senses. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but there was no emergency screening. He lied to all of us.”
Levi swallowed, relieved there was no more bad news. “I know.”
“When did you find out?”
“Saturday.”
“I pressed him to call the court and cancel it. He kept saying there’s no need. And then he finally confessed. I suppose he expected you to think we’re such great people for letting it go, but all he’d intended to do was make you miserable. Force you to hire an attorney and spend money. God only knows what he possibly thought he could achieve with this. He’s done nothing but use fear tactics on you since the moment we found out you were the father.”
Levi couldn’t argue that point. He’d tried to understand it was the grief talking, but Mr. Lane had only made everything between them far worse. “There’s no reason you two can’t have a relationship with Grace. I never wanted to keep her away from her grandparents.”
“But that’s not enough for my husband. He’s depressed, and lately the only thing he does in his spare time is feed on his anger. What happened was horrible and we won’t ever quite get over it. We can’t do much about it now, but Frank won’t get help. He wants to beat himself up about what he could have done to have a better relationship with Sandy. But we tried. We always tried. She didn’t want to have much to do with us after she left home.”
“You’ve both been through something no parent should ever have to go through.”
She sniffed. “I sometimes wonder if Frank wants Grace or if he just wants to keep her away from you. All he thinks about is punishing you for taking Grace from us. But he forgets that Sandy made a choice to be with you at some point. And it wasn’t fair that she never let you know about Grace. I’m sorry for that, too.”
“Thank you.”
Damn, that was a first. He’d never expected sympathy from Sandy’s parents for his situation, but it was true that what she’d done was wrong. Every time he thought about the fact that, had circumstances been different, he would never even have known about Grace... She would have been raised as another man’s daughter.
Still, Levi felt guiltier than ever before. The problem with temporary, with no strings, was that it wasn’t really true. Was it? He’d been kidding himself for years
. Or maybe he’d just been lucky in the past and his luck had run out. Sandy was someone he’d been with for one night. Someone he’d never know now, but he had a child with her. Grace had half her DNA from a woman he’d never get a chance to know. He was tied to her, through their child, through her parents.
Mrs. Lane took a breath and dabbed at her eyes. “Sorry to bother you with all this. I know you’re busy planning a wedding and everything.”
Levi coughed and hit his chest. “Um, yeah. That’s mostly Carly’s deal.”
“Of course. You men just get to show up and look suave and dapper.” Mrs. Lane stood. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you the truth as soon as I could. I want to see Grace, of course, every chance you’ll give me.”
“And Frank?”
“I don’t know or care what that old man is doing anymore. We’re getting a divorce.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CARLY TOOK ONE last look in the mirror and tossed her hair back. “Wish me luck. I think I’ve got this.”
“Pfft,” Grace said from the bouncer, where she was busy sucking on her big toe.
The interview today would occur via Skype, and Carly had dressed for success. Even if Jenny wouldn’t see them, she had on her good-luck shoes, the kick-ass green suede booties with cutouts. Carly’s wavy hair was tamed to within an inch of its life and fell perfectly around her shoulders. Check. Makeup, including a soft and nonthreatening shade of pink lipstick. Check. Matching pastel-pink rayon shell with a little pearl necklace handed down from Mom. Check. Argyle pencil miniskirt and black tights.
“Check, check and check. All set.”
Carly had taken to talking to Grace all day long. It was better to fill the silence between her and Grace with real words instead of silly baby talk. She’d sometimes go through an entire day explaining to Grace everything she was doing or about to do.
It’s time for your bottle. Snack time. Would you like the applesauce today or the apricot? Okay, apricot it is. Is it time for your nap yet? No? Think again.
For her part, it was kind of cute the way Grace seemed to understand the words and actually tried to respond at times. And even if her only response was in the form of da-da, ba-ba, ta-ta and pfft, Carly couldn’t help thinking she was really trying to communicate, going by the earnest look in her bright and intelligent blue eyes.
The interview with Jenny had been set for three o’clock. By the time Jill arrived to watch Grace while Carly conducted the interview, she’d worked herself up into a small panic.
Jill bounced Grace on her knee. “This is the most anxious I’ve seen you since you got back from New York. You were a mess then.”
“What? I look like a mess? Why? Where?” She ran to the bathroom mirror to check.
Still professional. Not a hair out of place. My past failures do not mean I’ll have failures now. This is different. Mom’s company.
“Chill. I didn’t say you looked like a mess.” Jill rolled her eyes. “You’re going to do fine. That’s a cute outfit. Love the boots. You’re rocking it. Yada yada yada.”
“I know, I know.”
“Da-da, ta-da,” Grace said loudly, as if she, too, wanted to add her support.
“So what do you think she wants to talk to you about?”
“I have no idea, but it’s my job to take the initiative and find a way to bring up and pitch RockYourBaby. Maybe she’ll know some people who might be interested in buying.” Carly twirled and stuck her arms out. “Sure I look okay?”
“The pearls might be overkill,” Jill said. “You’re not Donna Reed. That was your mother’s look. You’re the young, hip version of RockYourBaby. Lose the pearls.”
“Really?” Carly fingered the soft, smooth pearls.
Jill lifted a shoulder. “Without them, you’ve got the whole California hipster look going on. But your choice.”
It was just one opportunity, one networking contact, maybe even the first of many. Why was she so nervous? Answer: she couldn’t blow this. She’d brought the company back from the brink of bankruptcy and into something profitable and desirable again. Worthy. And Jenny had noticed. Why else would she have called Carly?
Once Jill and Grace were out the door for a walk around the neighborhood, Carly sat in front of her laptop and signed in to her Skype account. Then she simply waited. She removed the pearls, then put them on again. She drummed her fingers and practiced her smile. It looked frozen on her face, so she tried for a more even look that didn’t make her look so eager, or quite so desperate. She rubbed her ring for good luck. Then stilled her fingers and concentrated on her breathing. Even. Slow.
I’ve got this.
When the Skype call rang, Carly was ready for it. This was the time. Her moment to shine and sell, sell, sell RockYourBaby. She’d never been more prepared or in a better place. She pressed to accept the incoming call, prepped to smile. And her laptop died. Apparently her battery had run out of juice, and she’d literally hung up on Jenny.
“No! No! I didn’t mean to hang up.” She nearly tripped over her own feet doing it, but she managed to plug her cord in and power up.
She quickly pressed Call Back, and Jenny’s face appeared. Speaking of smooth and professional, Jenny had always had the countenance of a clear, placid lake. Clear green eyes filled with warmth. Short, raven-black hair in a perfectly straight pageboy. Carly, on the other hand, felt like the ocean during a hurricane and thought she might have just suffered a small stroke.
“Hello? I’m so sorry about that,” Carly said, trying to smile. “I lost you.”
“No worries. We can’t always rely on the best communication because of spotty Wi-Fi.”
Yes. Let that be it and not that she’d neglected to check that her battery was fully charged.
“I’m so glad to see you again! You look great,” Jenny said. “And I was so sorry to hear about your mom.”
“Thank you.”
The best parts of New York were coming back to Carly, including talented and sweet people like Jenny. Carly had envied Jenny’s talent and confidence, and her fashion poise. But one thing about Jenny was that she’d never let any of her success at school go to her head.
“Fashionista Baby was pure marketing genius. I’m in awe.”
Carly cleared her throat. Accidental marketing genius. “Oh, yes. Thank you. So much time and effort went into that one.”
Lie number four hundred and twenty.
“I’ll bet. And the model you’ve been using? That baby is simply precious. You couldn’t do any better. Those bright blue eyes. Like the Gerber baby all over again.”
“Uh-huh.” Carly swallowed hard. She didn’t like lying to her friend. “Actually, speaking of RockYourBaby.” She patted the folder she’d received from her accountant. “We’re poised to do a record last quarter. I don’t know if you heard, but we’re selling the blog and our brand. And after that viral blog post, we’re likely to get a lot of offers soon.”
Jenny held up her palm. “We’re not interested in RockYourBaby.”
Carly forced a frozen smile on her face. If they weren’t here to talk about RockYourBaby, then what were they here to talk about?
“What I’m interested in is you.”
“Me?” Carly wasn’t a believer in false modesty, but honestly she had nothing to offer a company like the Cutting Edge. Not yet, anyway.
“I absolutely love the designs on your baby model. That’s all you, isn’t it? I recognized your work.”
“Yes, but I was just fooling around a little.”
“Ironic. Because it’s just what I’ve been looking for to suggest for the new label.”
Jenny went on about the new children’s fashion line they wanted to create, the demographics they wanted to reach. Millennial mothers Carly’s age who were interested in dressing their babies and young chil
dren just as fashionably as they dressed themselves.
There was a light buzzing sound in the room as Jenny kept talking. The thrumming, light sound of Carly’s fingers as they drummed uncontrollably on the table. Her leg jiggled, too, practically keeping time.
Carly interrupted Jenny. “You do know I never completed the program?”
“I know.” Jenny scanned the room and leaned in closer to the screen. “Do you know that you’re not the only girl he messed with?”
She so did not want to go there. Alec did not have privileges into this conversation. “You, too?”
“Oh, hell no. But a few of my friends. He preyed on the students with the least amount of confidence. Built you up just to tear you down. Didn’t he?”
Carly nodded. Why did people do that? For kicks? A power trip? She didn’t know which, but right now she hated more than anything else that she’d let him win.
“I always thought you were talented. And I swear to you, Carly, had I known what was going on, I would have said something to you. I only found out after the fact.”
Carly believed that to be true. Jenny would have intervened. She had that kind of chutzpah and determination that Carly had always wanted. Instead, she’d run home and wasted valuable time. Worked at the Drip. Questioned everything she’d ever wanted to do with her life. All because one teacher/boyfriend had humiliated her. And wasn’t she so sick of herself?
“Is he still teaching?”
Jenny tipped her chin up. “Not at FIT.”
“Good.” Even though Carly knew that from the school’s website, it was reassuring to hear.
“Come back, Carly. Don’t let the bastard win. If you’re game, I’ll take this to my director. Put a portfolio together of more of what I’ve seen on the blog and send it to me.”
“I don’t have much. I’ve just been having fun with it right now,” Carly said. “There’s so much I have to do with RockYourBaby.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but maybe it’s time to walk away from RockYourBaby. Your blog really seems to have taken off since you started posting photos of your baby clothes. That’s where your heart is. You’re still a designer.”
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