Must Like Kids

by Jackie Braun

  He appeared caught off guard as well. For the briefest of moments, feminine vanity had her hoping it was for the same reason she’d been taken aback: attraction—both potent and instantaneous. She dismissed the thought. She was being ridiculous, foolish, which wasn’t like her. More likely, he was surprised by her appearance. A lot of people were when they met her. Julia looked harmless rather than high-powered, as if she should be teaching Sunday school or volunteering for the PTO—both of which she did—rather than single-handedly manipulating the media and realigning the public’s mindset. A client once told her that was her advantage. She certainly used it as one.

  Sure enough, he said, “You’re Miss Stillwell?”

  “Actually, I go by Ms.”

  “Ms.” He nodded, and she thought she heard a hint of derision in his tone when he added, “Of course.”

  He extended a hand. It was big and warm, and it nearly swallowed up the one that she offered to him in return.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Mr. McAvoy.” She gestured toward a chair. Perhaps sitting he wouldn’t appear quite as imposing.

  He shook his head. “This won’t do.”

  Uh-oh. “Excuse me?”

  She girded for an argument, but it turned out the effort was unwarranted.

  “The courtesy titles. Can we drop them? They make me feel like I’m back in boarding school.”

  Boarding school. Which meant he’d grown up in privilege and was used to having far more than his basic needs met. She narrowed in on another clue to his personality. “Let me guess. You had a problem with authority in those days.”

  “Sometimes.” She caught a glimmer of rebellion in his green eyes. “Rules are made to be broken.”

  “Not my rules. And punctuality is one of them,” she told him pointedly.

  “I suppose you’re expecting an apology for my being late.”

  “Now that you mention it, that wouldn’t be a bad place to start.”

  “Sorry.” His mouth curved into a smile.

  Julia ignored the effect it had on her pulse and instead folded her arms. “Is that the best you can do? No wonder your board of directors hired me.”

  That had his smile flattening into a tight line.

  “I can be persuasive when I want to be.” His gaze shifted south briefly, leaving her to feel exposed even though she knew her neckline to be modest. Then he offered a smile that would have been right at home in the bedroom during foreplay.

  Julia wanted to be insulted or outraged or, at the very least, irritated. What she felt was aroused...awakened. That feeling did make her irritated—with both of them.

  “Let’s get another one of my rules clear. I have nothing against flattery. In fact, I find that it comes in handy in my line of work. But I am immune to it. You’re not here as my date. You’re here as my client. Save the smoldering looks for your girlfriend.”

  His brows rose again. “That was direct.”

  “I don’t believe in beating around the bush or playing games. What would be the point? Games are for children.”

  “Yes, and apparently I need help where they are concerned, at least in terms of my public image.” His lips returned to a grim line.

  “You don’t want to be here,” she remarked.

  “No, I don’t, but I wasn’t given a choice.”

  She wasn’t the only one who believed in being direct, apparently.

  “You made a mess, Mr....Alec.”

  “A big one,” he agreed. “But I prefer to clean up after myself.”

  “A man who likes to clean up after himself.” She pursed her lips in mock consideration. “As pleasing as I find that attribute in a member of the opposite sex, I’ve been hired to do a job, namely to save yours and pull your company’s stock out of the basement. So, we can be adversaries or you can help me help you.”

  He was quiet a moment. Finally, after exhaling deeply, he asked, “What will all this entail?”

  Julia had had less than twenty-four hours to work on a plan, but she didn’t mention that. Besides, he’d talked to the board of directors, so he knew. If he was expecting excuses, he wouldn’t get them from her.

  “Have a seat.” She motioned again to one of the chairs angled in front of her desk and returned to where she’d been, with one hip on the edge, preferring the height advantage it gave her. He had to look up to her now. “In addition to rebutting the information provided in the original article—”

  “That’s been done,” he interrupted.

  “Not by me, it hasn’t.” Julia had read the follow-up article. She’d probably been in the minority there. His response to the original article certainly hadn’t gone viral. “As I was saying, in addition to my rebuttal and some well-placed stories in other media outlets, both traditional and digital, we need to find, or if need be, manufacture, as many opportunities as possible in the coming weeks for you to be photographed and filmed with children.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What children?”

  “I don’t suppose you are close to any? Nephews? Nieces?” she asked. Thanks to her older sister, Eloise, Julia had one of each. It would be great if Alec had an actual relationship with the little ones who would be used in the photo opportunities she had planned. When her question was met with stony silence, she added, “Leave that to me.”

  “You used the word manufacture.”

  “We can’t expect invitations to such events to fall into our laps in a timely fashion. That’s why I propose Best For Baby hold some kind of community event here in Chicago to start and perhaps locations elsewhere around the country if I feel that’s necessary. It will

  coincide with your One Big Family campaign.”

  “So, what? You’re going to have me kissing babies like a politician on the campaign trail?” He looked more appalled than amused.

  “If need be. Do you have a problem with that?” She wanted to know right then how much of a battle she was in for.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ll reserve judgment.”

  Julia straightened and went behind her desk, where she picked up a spreadsheet. Handing it to Alec, she said, “These are some of the events I have in mind. The two highlighted in green have been confirmed.” They’d been easy to pin down, since the organizers had been desperate for corporate sponsorship, which is what they’d been promised in return. “The ones in yellow are tentative. There will be more, but this is a start.”

  He barely spared the paper a glance before saying, “I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”

  “Actually, you’ll clear your schedule, and I’ll get back to you with talking points and suggested attire.”

  “You’re going to pick out my clothing?” He rose to his feet. He didn’t look happy at the prospect. A lot of clients, especially those who came to her under duress, didn’t like being told how to dress. She couldn’t blame them, but that didn’t change anything.

  “You can wear whatever you want to the office or on your own time,” she told him. “But for these events, yes, I’ll be picking out your clothes. What you wear needs to help convey the message we want to send.”

  “What messages are my clothes sending?”

  She glanced down and swallowed an inappropriate sigh. She managed to sound completely professional when she replied, “They tell me you take a great deal of care with your appearance and that you have the means to buy what you want, regardless of the price tag.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “Most of the people buying Best For Baby’s products can’t relate to your lifestyle, Alec.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Are you calling me a snob?”

  “I’m not calling you anything.”

  “But that’s what you think?”

  “What I think isn’t the issue here. That’s the signal you will send if we’re not careful. It’s all about image.”

  She braced for further argument, but he said, “You’re the expert.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Julia w
asn’t fooled by his easy capitulation. She and Alec McAvoy were going to butt heads a lot before their association ended. In a perverse way, she was looking forward to it.

  TWO

  It was like playing a chess match, Alec thought. Or maybe a game of blink, waiting for the other person to close their eyes first. It was a bit galling when he was the one who did.

  Julia Stillwell was a surprise. And not just because she was five and half feet of tidy curves tucked into a creamy silk blouse and conservative navy pencil skirt. She was pretty, nonthreatening. The girl next door. She disarmed her opponents with a cherubic smile, dimples included, that took one’s mind off her waspish sting. But the real kicker was the unsettling amount of attraction he felt for her. It had landed like a prizefighter’s punch to the midsection the moment he’d walked through her door. He was still struggling to regain his footing.

  Fifteen minutes into their meeting, she glanced at her watch—though he didn’t doubt for a moment that she already knew the exact time—and said, “I have to be going, but I’ll be in touch tomorrow morning.”

  “Hot date?” he asked, just to see if he could rile her. No one should be that composed. And, okay, he was curious, too.

  She didn’t look the least bit ruffled. In fact, the smile she sent him was relaxed and filled with humor. “Of a fashion.”

  What in the heck did that mean?

  A couple of pictures were propped on her desk, but from his position, Alec couldn’t make out their subject matter. Were they of her husband? No. He hadn’t noticed a ring on her finger, and he’d made a point of looking. A lover, then?

  Irked by his own curiosity more than by her evasive response, Alec said, “Isn’t it a little early to be knocking off for the day. It’s not even five o’clock.”

  Still standing, she bent and logged off the computer, but not before clicking on a file. On the credenza behind her, the printer fired to life and began spitting out pages.

  As she turned around to collect them, she asked, “How late do you work?”

  “Until six at least, seven on occasion.” In truth, he’d been known to stay past eight and was on a first-name basis with his building’s cleaning crew and the night security detail.

  “For a total of how many hours a week?”

  “Usually fifty to sixty.” Or, as had been the case the previous week, seventy-five.

  She shook her head. Her expression said, I thought so.

  “Well, I put in forty hours at my office. Never more than forty. I start my day early so that I can be out of here early.” She glanced at her watch again. “In fact, today I’ve stayed five minutes late. To accommodate you.”

  She tapped the papers she’d gathered into a neat pile and reached for the stapler. Her efficient movements were the perfect complement to her words.

  “Don’t you ever clock some overtime? I would think, given the urgency of my situation and what you are being paid to address it, that you would be happy to log a few extra hours here and there.”

  He’d hoped that would get a rise out of her, but he wasn’t successful. Not completely, anyway, although he did detect a slight edge to her tone when she told him, “I believe in balance. I have a life. In fact, my personal life has been known to take precedence over pulling in a paycheck when that’s what I feel is warranted.”

  “The perk of being your own boss?”

  “That’s right. I made a decision a long time ago that my children would come first.”

  “You have children?” he blurted out, immediately aware of how the question came across. Sure enough, Julia’s expression tightened.

  “Two, but don’t worry. They’ve had all their shots.” She turned the photographs on her desk around. A pair of elementary school-age kids smiled back, one of each sex, both sporting their mother’s deep dimples.

  “Sorry.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

  She nodded. “You’ve had to do a lot of apologizing lately where children are concerned.”

  “I’ve got nothing against kids.” God help him. He was starting to sound like a broken record.

  She nodded again. “Here’s a tip. Free of charge. My job here is what I do. It’s not who I am, which is why I choose not to spend every waking hour at it. There’s more to life than work, Alec.”

  “You sound like my mother.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Julia replied.

  He hadn’t intended it as one. Her wry expression told him she suspected as much. Alec’s parents lived extravagantly and well beyond their means. Even before he had graduated from college, they had burned through his mother’s substantial inheritance. If not for his paternal grandfather’s interference, they would have wound up homeless and penniless, and Alec would have been forced to drop out of his Ivy League school before receiving his degree.

  Granddad was gone now, but before he’d died he’d made sure to put the money he left in a trust, one that Alec administered. As such, his parents had to come to him for everything. Neither party was particularly happy about it.

  Indeed, that was why Alec had arrived late to his appointment with Julia. Just prior to leaving his office, his mother had phoned him in a panic. Even though they were only a week into June, she and Alec’s father needed more money. They’d used up their generous monthly stipend to purchase airline tickets—first class, of course—and book a two-week stay with friends at an exclusive resort on a small, private island in the Caribbean. They didn’t leave for another week and now they had nothing left to buy groceries. Nor did they have any spending money for their trip.

  He’d put down his foot. Or he’d tried to. Finally, to get his crying mother off the phone, Alec had agreed to transfer an additional seven grand into his parents’ bank account. He’d held firm on the amount, even when she’d insisted they needed at least ten thousand.

  “Be reasonable, Alec. How can your father and I have a proper vacation with so little to spend?” she’d demanded.

  “Order a glass of wine with dinner instead of a magnum of champagne,” he’d suggested. “And don’t buy a round of drinks for the entire nightclub.”

  “You’re such a stick in the mud, Alec. All you do is work. You don’t know how to have fun,” Brooke had sighed before relenting and hanging up.

  His parents would have their vacation, and he would have a little peace and quiet—a reprieve of sorts until the next phone call reporting a crisis. And there would be another one, Alec knew. They came as regularly as gusts of wind in Chicago.

  Thinking of the conversation now, he assured Julia, “I know how to enjoy myself away from the office.”

  “Yes. That came through in the article,” Julia replied dryly. “Your ex-girlfriend mentioned that the pair of you enjoyed first-class travel, fine dining, golf.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?” He might not take vacations as often as his parents or for as long as they did, but when he took one, he enjoyed himself.

  The corners of her mouth turned down in consideration. Julia had nice lips. Soft. Full. They were one of her most inviting facial features...even when she was frowning at him. “On the surface, not a thing. Except that her children weren’t involved.”

  His voice rose and, despite his best efforts, his tone turned defensive. “Laurel didn’t want them involved. That was her call. It was her decision.”

  At nine and eleven, Laurel’s two daughters were miniature versions of their mother, and as such, extremely high-maintenance, which was why Laurel preferred to leave them to their nanny.

  “Did you ever try to change her mind?”

  “Does it matter?” he asked.

  “To me? No. To the public, it would, yes.”

  He exhaled in frustration now. “Look, I’ve never claimed to be a family man. I’m a businessman. A damned good one, in fact, which is why Best For Baby brought me on board. The company needed a qualified executive. My personal life shouldn’t be an issue.”

  “It wouldn’t be if you hadn’t op
ened your mouth and made it one,” Julia shot back without missing a beat. “Which brings us back to square one, Alec.”

  He cursed and returned to his seat. He hated that she was right. As he scrubbed a hand down his face, Julia was saying, “You can’t change what you said. It’s on the record and will be winging around cyberspace indefinitely. What we can change is your image going forward.”

  “I know.” His hand fell away, but it curled into a fist at his side, mirroring the position of the left one.

  “Good.” She continued to drive home the point. Her tone became instructional, perhaps to offset the censure inherent in her words. “To the baby-product-buying public, you are the epitome of a playboy. You have the position and enough power and wealth to subsidize a very adult lifestyle. It doesn’t hurt that you grew up in privilege.”

  He snorted at that. Sometimes privilege was just another word for lonely.

  She was saying, “Golf, fine dining, first-class travel at all-inclusive resorts not known for their child-friendly amenities—these are very adult activities. As such, they aren’t going to help us convince the broader public that you understand family life or its particular needs.”

  “So you’re going to have me be seen out and about in public, kissing babies. Got it.” He sighed and made his hands unclench.

  “That’s not exactly the attitude I’m hoping you’ll project.”

  “I’ll work on it,” he grumbled.

  She made a humming noise. Then her gaze narrowed. “How about a test run this evening?”

  He frowned. “I’m not following you.”

  “What do you have on your schedule for six o’clock?”

  He did a mental check of his calendar. “A meeting with the head of the accounting department at five to go over some expense report irregularities. I don’t know if it will be concluded by then.”

  “Really? A meeting after regular business hours? You can’t be a very popular boss.” She shook her head, forestalling his reply. “Can you reschedule it?”