Inside, the note simply read, “Can you come to my office at lunchtime?”
He’d added the building and suite number beneath his signature.
“Josh Redmond.”
Not just Josh. Josh Redmond.
Like she couldn’t keep track of all the Joshes she knew? Or didn’t know the last name of the man whose house she entered every day, twice a day? The man who’d fathered the baby that, though she couldn’t feel it yet, was currently growing inside of her?
Locking the puppy back up in his kennel, she hurried off to class.
She was glad that her lab partners were in charge of the experiment. Her job was the final write-up.
Later that night she’d be better able to focus.
Because it would be after she’d answered her summons to Josh’s office.
* * *
HE WAS READY and waiting, keys in hand, as soon as Dana knocked on his office door.
“You just said lunchtime,” Dana said, stepping beyond him and into the office, looking around as though there was actually a room there to see. In her usual jeans, tennis shoes and blouse, she looked as if she was ready to handle anything life presented her.
He hoped so. Because he had the presentation of his life ahead of him.
She sat down in the faux-leather chair in front of his desk. He was embarrassed by the smallness of his space. The lack of quality furniture. Of art. Style.
“It was either here or behind your desk,” she said, motioning toward the chair in which she sat.
He was a regular guy now, he reminded himself. “I thought we’d go for a drive,” he said. Surely she’d see things his way. He knew he was right.
And she was reasonable.
He’d already closed one deal that morning. Michelle’s outings were a go.
He had to get this deal closed today, too. There was so much to do and not a lot of time in which to get it done.
“Drive where?”
“I’ll show you.”
“I’d like to know where I’m going,” she said. “I have class in an hour.”
She wasn’t cooperating. And he hadn’t even begun his pitch.
“We’re going ten minutes from campus,” he said. “Can you trust me on this, just until we get there?”
“The only place I know that serves lunch within ten minutes of here is the Valley Diner,” she said. But she was walking beside him down the hall on the way to his SUV.
Lunch. Hell. He’d missed a key detail. Where was his secretary when he needed her?
Back in Boston, that was where.
Not only had he missed the detail, but here he was telling a pregnant woman he was going to do his part, telling himself that he was going to be a good father to his child, and he couldn’t even remember that the woman and his child needed to eat. Well, they’d have to make a quick detour to the cafeteria for a sandwich that they could bring back to his office after their drive. It would be a working lunch. He’d attended and hosted more of those than he could count.
* * *
DANA DIDN’T KNOW of any lunch spot in the direction Josh was headed. She’d been in town a few months longer than he had and considered telling him he was going the wrong way.
But he knew different people than she did. Local people. Maybe he knew something she didn’t know.
When they pulled up to the house, she recognized it right away.
“That’s the house on the front of your note.” She pulled the paper out of her bag.
“Right. I need you to take a look at it.” Opening his door, he got out and came around to open her door.
Dana’s heart started to pound. Surely he wasn’t... Was he going to propose to her? Was Amy right? Did Josh want her, Dana Harris?
It was like every romantic movie she’d ever seen. She was surprised she managed to get herself out of the SUV without falling.
Josh walked up to the front door like he owned the place and, typing in a code in the lockbox, accessed the key and let them in.
Like he did own the place.
Oh, my God. She could hardly breathe.
“It has four bedrooms,” he said. “And sits on half an acre. I looked at full-acre sites, but they were more than I can afford.”
He was proposing to her. Any moment he was going to pull out the ring.
“What do you think of the kitchen?” he asked, taking her there first.
“You’ve been here before?” Dana spoke for the first time since entering the house.
“With the Realtor. This morning.”
They’d reached the kitchen. A dream of a kitchen. With granite countertops, an undermounted sink, tons of cupboard space and an island with an electrical outlet.
“What do you think?”
This was better than any movie. Somehow while she hadn’t been paying attention her life had gone from a disaster to amazing.
“You don’t like it. Well, that’s fine. We can—”
“No, Josh. I love it.”
She wasn’t going to ask questions, although they were practically burning her tongue. She wasn’t going to spoil the moment.
“Good,” he said. “The rest of it doesn’t matter as much. There’s a fireplace in the living room, can be wood burning or gas, but I’m told that there are often bans on wood burning fireplaces in the city to try and keep the air fresh and clean as much as possible, being this close to California.”
Was Josh babbling?
She watched him as he moved quickly through the rest of the rooms, pointing out three full bathrooms and four bedrooms. He gave room dimensions, talked about wallboard thickness, insulation and flooring.
“It has both an evaporative cooler and central air,” he was saying when he turned to face her.
He was nervous. Which made her all the more willing to be patient. It made her smile, too.
“You’re smiling. Does that mean you like it?”
Like it? She loved him. So it had only been a little more than two weeks since she’d met him. She’d waited a long time for him to walk into her life. And just as she’d always imagined, her heart had recognized him immediately.
“Dana? Do you like the house?”
The house. Not the man. She was getting ahead of herself.
“Yes, it’s a beautiful house, Josh.”
When was he going to tell her it was all hers if she’d marry him?
“Good,” he said. “Let’s lock up, then, and get back to the office.”
She’d kind of been expecting to see a tray with a bottle of wine and a ring in the master bedroom. Or a table set up on the patio with lunch waiting—and the ring.
Was he going to propose in his office?
It wasn’t what she would’ve imagined, but she didn’t think she’d be disappointed. And maybe now she’d hear what had happened in his past, what issues he’d had to overcome. Or how she could help him overcome them. People didn’t usually just solve their problems overnight. More like over a lifetime.
Whichever way this went, she was going to be the happiest girl on earth as soon as Josh got over his jitters and asked the darn question.
He parked closer to the school cafeteria than he did to his office building. And told her to pick out a sandwich and a drink and paid for both of them.
Fine. He’d bought a house this morning. He couldn’t have been expected to do lunch, too. It wasn’t as if he had an entire movie crew at his disposal making sure everything was perfect.
Josh continued to talk about the house as they made their way through the throng of students to his office. She saw at least five people she knew, all of whom said hello to her, and took note of Josh by her side.
She’d hear about him later, she guessed. And imagined how it would feel to show th
em her ring.
They’d reached his building, and then his floor. Dana looked around for Ian, wanting him to see her there with Josh so he could tell Amy, but there was no sign of him.
Josh made a beeline for the chair behind his desk. Dana sank back into the seat she’d left, feeling an entirely different type of nervousness. Josh hadn’t summoned her to blow her off, to let her down gently, as she’d half feared when she’d read his note.
And he only had so much time on his lunch hour. He’d done the important thing, the practical thing, in taking her to see the house that they would live in after they were married.
Unwrapping his sandwich, he bit off a corner of it. Too excited to eat, she held on to hers.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“Morning sickness, which doesn’t always come in the morning in case you didn’t know, doesn’t usually start until the sixth week.”
“I know. Remember, I told you it was too early.”
He nodded. He was so attentive, and damned cute, but would he hurry up and pop the question already?
She wanted to talk about the house. Which room would be the nursery. They had to think about furniture and painting before she was too far along.
And she wanted to talk about the wedding. They would have to set a date.
Would there be anyone from back home he’d want to invite? Any family?
Dana’s thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt. She knew next to nothing about Josh’s family. She knew he was close to his mom, but had no idea what she or his dad did for a living. Josh had told her he was an only child.
Josh finished his sandwich and said, “You’ll need to keep a stash of crackers or dry cereal by your bed, and to set your alarm for an hour earlier than you normally get up. Eat smaller meals throughout the day, and try to drink a glass of water half an hour before every meal. You might have to avoid cooking during the first trimester and it’s good to avoid spicy foods at dinnertime. Bland foods are best....”
Dana chuckled. She couldn’t help herself. “What did you do, read Dr. Spock?”
“I got all of that from the American Pregnancy Association website. But I downloaded Dr. Spock’s book, too. It just seemed a bit dated to me.”
The man was better than anything she could ever have dreamed up. And he might drive her crazy, too, by the time this baby was born. The best crazy.
Clearly she was going to have to help him along.
“I have a feeling you didn’t invite me here to discuss morning sickness.”
Throwing his lunch wrappings in the trash, he leaned forward to pull a file from the tray on his desk. “You’re right, I didn’t.”
Her heart beating such a rapid tattoo that she was having trouble catching a full breath, Dana waited. Her sisters were never going to believe this.
He opened his folder. Took out some pages, what appeared to be a spreadsheet. Placing a couple of pages before him, side by side, he slid two more across the desk, side by side, facing her.
Dana felt as if she’d stepped through Alice’s looking glass.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SHOW THEM THE END IN MIND. Josh was back in high school, sitting in on a deal his father was putting together. The elder Joshua Redmond spent a month of evenings in his home office prior to the big day, educating Josh on every aspect of the transaction.
That month had shaped his life. It had shown him what he wanted, what drove him. He’d hung on his father’s every word. And known, even then, that there were ways to expand upon the old man’s theories and practices.
He still remembered every step his father had delineated. He’d honed them. Improved upon them.
But number one remained the same. Start with the end first.
“Picture this,” he said now, sliding a full-color, glossy picture of the house he’d just shown Dana across the desk.
Slide number one, he’d mentally labeled the photo in the presentation.
“You’re in the kitchen, baking cookies, and you look out that window to the backyard and see Lindy Lu and, running behind her, a little three-year-old girl with your long hair, in just that creamy milk-chocolate color. Lindy Lu is barking to get the little girl’s attention, and the girl, your daughter, laughs out loud, her blue eyes twinkling just like yours do when you laugh.”
Josh looked from Dana to the photo as he spoke. Assessing client reaction, keeping his mental finger completely on the pulse of the client at all times was critical. Dana was frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“Two things.”
“Okay, let’s tackle them one at a time.”
“First, since we have a choice in this scenario, let’s not stick her with my boring hair color. She’ll have your luscious dark brown hair.”
She was kidding, right? He was selling the deal of his life and she was quarreling about fictitious hair color?
And then, relaxing, Josh smiled.
“Your hair is beautiful and you know it,” he said. “It’s unique. Not like every other woman who gets their hair color from a bottle. Yours is much more striking. And luscious. Our daughter will be lucky if she takes after you.”
The compliments rolled off his tongue more smoothly than ever before. And he was admittedly a pro at it. Not until he heard the words aloud did he realize that, in Dana’s case, every single word was true.
The woman stared silently at him with narrowed eyes. As though she was trying to see through him.
He couldn’t afford to let her look too closely.
“What’s your second problem?” he asked.
“Where’s Little Guy?”
“He’s at home, why?”
She shook her head, meeting his gaze head-on. “No, here,” she said, pointing to the house. “You have Lindy Lu in the backyard. Where’s Little Guy?”
He didn’t mean to stare, but Josh did. Was she being deliberately difficult? They had very serious matters to discuss.
“L.G.’s with me,” he said. “Now can we get back to this?”
Leaning forward, seemingly satisfied, she nodded.
Josh pulled out what he’d dubbed slide number two: a picture of a midpriced nursery that he’d printed off the internet.
“This could be either the third or the fourth bedroom we looked at this morning,” he said. He rattled off measurements, pointing to different walls in the picture he’d printed to scale.
“This crib breaks down to an oversize twin with rails and then to a twin bed,” he said. “It’s the most cost-effective solution I found for the relatively quickly changing sleeping needs of young children.”
Dana’s eyes were wide, so he passed over slide number three.
“This is a cost estimate if we need three separate beds, a crib, a toddler bed and a twin bed. In less than four years’ time, this is the amount we’d be spending on average-priced beds.” He pointed to the bottom of one column.
“And this,” he said, pointing to the other side of the page with the tip of his pen, “is the cost of the all-in-one.”
Taking encouragement from her nod, from the way she was studying the sheets he put before her, he continued on with comparison cost analyses for the rest of the nursery, down to paint and average-priced wallpaper.
He’d read about preparing the nursery and was pretty certain he had it all covered.
“The only thing I didn’t take into consideration was ceiling decor,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be one of those people who’d want glow-in-the-dark stars on the baby’s ceiling, or if you’d rather leave the ceiling blank for the baby’s imagination to fill in. It’s important not to overstimulate, but some kind of light in the darkness is comforting, without making it so bright that the child grows up afraid of the dark, or so tha
t his melatonin confuses night with day.”
Dana’s mouth dropped open.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you know all of this.”
“I didn’t. Until this weekend.”
Shaking her head she smiled. And glanced at her watch.
“Oh, my word, Josh! It’s ten to one. I have to go to class.”
Damn. That trip to the cafeteria had cost him too much time. He’d had everything planned down to the minute, as usual. Busy people didn’t like to be kept waiting. And everyone had schedules.
He’d adjust. Flexibility was a key talent of his. “Are you busy tonight?” he asked.
“Nothing I can’t work around.”
“You want to go out to dinner and finish this?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Are you asking or telling?”
He paused. Slow down, son. His father’s voice piped up again. They have to feel like the choice is theirs.
“I’m asking.”
Standing, with her satchel over her shoulder, Dana grinned at him as she headed toward the door. “Just checking,” she said. “Six is fine.”
He watched her open the door and walk down the hall, her long legs going on forever, reigniting his desire to have them wrapped around him.
He was going to close this deal. There was no other option.
* * *
DANA HUMMED ALL afternoon. Funny how life could seem hopeless in the morning, and by evening be filled with opportunity and possibility.
Pulling a couple of outfits from the back of her closet, ones her sisters had forced her to buy, she considered her choices. Sexy without feeling slutty was what she was going for. Josh was going to propose. And she wanted him to see the best side of what he was getting.
As soon as she’d let L.G. out after class, she’d rushed home to get to work. Her hair no longer bore even a hint of the highlights her sisters had talked her into having professionally done, but there wasn’t time to do anything about that. The Arizona sun had streaked it the tiniest bit. That would have to do.
The Moment of Truth Page 20