Salvatore 01 - Who's Holding the Baby

by Day Leclaire

  “Rise and shine!” Grace rolled over and groaned, flinging an arm across her face to block out the blinding sunlight. “Go away,” she snarled.

  Luc chuckled. “I have coffee,” he tempted.

  She peeked out from beneath her elbow. “Coffee?”’ ‘A cup for now and a whole fresh-brewed pot waiting in the kitchen.”

  She sat up and looked over at the crib. It was empty. “Where’s Toni?”

  “On a blanket in the living room shaking her fist at dust motes.” He headed for the door. “We have a lot to do today, so hurry up and get dressed.”

  Drawing her knees to her chest, she said, “I don’t have anything clean to wear.”

  “We’ll stop by your apartment on the way to the stores. You can change and pack a few days’ worth of clothes.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “A few days?”

  “A few days,” he confirmed. “Pietro called.” And with that he breezed from the room.

  It took ten minutes to pull herself together. The coffee helped substantially. After locating her glasses on the living room couch and popping them on the end of her nose, she swept the carpet for her scattered hairpins and pocketed them. Reluctant to face reality — even more reluctant to hear what Pietro had to say when he’d called, she played with Toni for a while. Eventually, hunger forced her to track Luc down in the kitchen. Open confrontation seemed the best course of action.

  “What do you mean a few days?” she demanded, jumping right in. “What did Pietro say?”

  “He missed connecting with Carina in Italy. Her mother is being seen by a specialist in Switzerland, and Carina went there. Pietro’s following.”

  “Did you tell him about the police? Did you tell him we haven’t a clue how to take care of a baby? When’s he coming back?”

  “Yes. Yes. And as soon as possible.” Luc ran a hand through his hair, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice. “You’re upset about this, and so am I. But there isn’t anything I can do about it. Not yet. So let’s make the best of things.”

  Right.Until the police showed up. Or worse, Dom. And then Luc’s clever, little scheme would come crashing down around both their ears. And so would Dom’s … She tried to stay calm. Shrieking wouldn’t accomplish a thing. Except make her feel a whole heck of a lot better. She took a deep breath, wavering between anger and capitulation. “What’s your plan of action?” she finally asked, giving in to the inevitable. At least, with Luc, it was the inevitable.

  “First we go to your apartment. Then we go shopping for Toni. I’ve called in at the office and had everything postponed for a few days. In the meantime . . . “ He brandished the coffeepot. “Let me pour you more coffee. There’s cereal for breakfast or I can scramble you some eggs.”

  “Cereal,” she informed him coolly. “I can’t face anything yellow first thing in the morning.”

  Once they’d eaten, they began to prepare for their outing. Getting ready to leave took longer than Grace ever could have thought possible. Packing the diaper bag alone was a major undertaking. “Diapers. Check. Wipes. Check. Powder. Check. Spare clothes. Check. More diapers. Double check.”

  “You forgot the bottles and formula.”

  She glared at Luc in exasperation. “Then you better get a second diaper bag, because nothing else will fit in here.”

  “How about a cooler for the formula?”

  “Terrific. One more thing to carry. And how are we supposed to heat the bottles?”

  “In a microwave, of course.”

  Keeping her temper while working for Luc, day after day, had proved a challenge. Keeping her temper while stuck with him day in and day out was an impossibility. She planted her hands on her hips. “A microwave? Were you planning on bringing that along with us, too?”

  “That won’t be necessary. Everyone has microwaves. We’ll just ask to borrow somebody’s.” He slung the diaper bag over one shoulder, picked up the cooler and his jacket and headed for the door. “Come on, Grace. It’s getting late and we have a lot to do today.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  He glanced around. “Diaper bag, cooler, jacket, changing pad and a garbage bag for dirty diapers. Nope. Got it all.”

  Grace sighed. “Everything except the baby. Why don’t I take care of that?”

  Thirty minutes later, they’d crossed the Bay Bridge out of San Francisco and reached the small apartment Grace rented on the Oakland-Berkeley line. A short walk from BART, the electric railway, it was an easy commute to work each day and much less expensive than living in the city.

  “I’ll just run upstairs and pack a bag,” she suggested. “Why don’t you wait here with Toni.”

  To her dismay Luc released his seat belt, climbed out of the car and calmly unfastened the baby from her car seat. “Toni would like to see your apartment and so would I. Besides, I want to make sure you don’t pack any of William’s clothes.”

  She stared at him in confusion. “William’s clothes?”

  “Two sizes too large and three decades too old.” Having no choice, she led the way to her door. “Make yourself at home,” she said with more than a hint of irony. “I’ll go pack.”

  In the bedroom, she yanked a small cloth suitcase down from the shelf in her closet and began tossing in the essentials. A minute later, Luc and Toni appeared at the door.

  And in Luc’s hand was her third-place award for Salvatore’s young-entrepreneur contest.

  He held it up, his eyes cool and watchful. “What’s this, Grace?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Great Lie

  Day 338 and Grace’s disguise is slipping …

  Crossing to Luc’s side, Grace took the award from him and placed it on her bureau. “You know what it is.”

  “You’re right, I do. I guess my question is, what are you doing with it?”

  Returning to her packing, she carefully folded a blouse and tucked it into the suitcase. “I think that’s obvious, too. I won it.”

  “In this past year’s contest?”

  “Why the questions, Luc?” she snapped. “What’s the problem? Yes. I won third place in this past year’s contest. As a result, I met Dom.”

  “And?”

  “And,” she finished impatiently, “he thought highly enough of me to recommend me for the job as your assistant. I thought you knew all that.’

  ‘

  “No. I didn’t.”

  He frowned, his gaze searching, and she glanced hastily away. But it was too late. Ke suspected she was hiding something, and knowing Luc he wouldn’t leave it aione until he’d settled the issue to his satisfaction. She could practically see the wheels turning as he mulled over what he perceived to be a puzzle.

  “Let’s try this tack and see if it gets us anywhere . . . “ he began. “Why did you take the job as my assistant?”

  “This is ridiculous. I took the job for the same reason millions of people all over the world take jobs.” Using less than her usual care, she balled up another blouse and thrust it into the suitcase. She just wanted to end this conversation and get out of here before she did something … said something … incriminating. “I needed to earn money.”

  “Yes, but contestants who enter the youngentrepreneur contest are interested in starting their own business, not working for someone else.”

  “What’s your point, Luc?” There was an edge to her voice.

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you? Interested in starting your own business?”

  She couldn’t he. She’d told him enough of those already without making it any worse. Looking directly at him, she said, “Yes. I’m interested in someday starting my own business. In the meantime, working for you should be good experience.”

  He settled Toni in the crook of his arm and propped a shoulder against the doorjamb. “And has it been? Has working for me been good?”

  She turned back to her packing. They continued to tread on dangerous ground — different ground, perhaps
, but dangerous, nonetheless. “Yes. It’s been good,” she agreed shortly. In fact, it had been more than good. Working for Luc had been surprisingly enjoyable. She’d thrived on the challenges, appreciated the fast pace. She’d even relished their heated arguments. She frowned. She’d miss all that when she left.

  “What sort of business do you plan to open?” he asked.

  She glanced hesitantly at him. Would he laugh when she told him? “It’ll be a toy store. One that specializes in babies. All the toys will be unique — handcrafted by local artisans, educational and safe.” Her mother had always insisted on that.

  He glanced down at Toni, a smile curving the comer of his mouth. “Seems we picked the perfect woman to help us, after all.” He approached, his movements lithe and graceful. “Here. Take the kid.”

  She obeyed without thought. Not until he turned and began to rummage through her suitcase, did she realize his motives for handing her the baby. “Cut that out, Luc! You have no right going through my things.”

  “I just want to make sure what you pack is practical.” He yanked out the skirt and blouse she’d just shoved in. “Which this is not,” he decided, and reached for the next garment. “Nor is this.”

  “Stop that! Those are eminently practical and you know it.”

  “Practical for the office, not for taking care of a baby.” He glanced at a skirt label. “This has to be drycleaned. One good burp and it’s history.”

  “Luc!” Toni’s little face screwed into a frown and Grace quickly moderated her tone to reflect sweetness and light. “Let me put it this way. You take one more item out of my suitcase, and I’ll kill you.” Too bad her glasses hid the glare she shot in his direction — not that he was looking anyway.

  “As long as we’re dispensing with the impractical, I think we’ll dispense with the ugly, as well,” he said, ignoring her threat. Clothes flew through the air and landed on the bed. “Ugly. Impractical. Ugly. Ugly. And very ugly. Don’t you get depressed wearing this stuff?”

  “No, I don’t.” At least, not often. Dom’s promised reward offered more than adequate compensation. She scowled in impotent fury. “And what difference does it make if they’re ugly? They don’t belong to you.”

  He glanced up, a dangerous glitter in his golden eyes. “They may not belong to me, but I have to look at them. And so does Toni. I won’t have you around my niece day and night, displaying such a lack of fashion taste. It’ll warp her. Hell, it’s already warped me.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Want to bet?” he asked derisively. “It’s gotten so bad, I’ve begun to think brown is pretty. At least on you.” Finished with the suitcase, he headed for her closet.

  She looked about, desperate for a safe place to deposit the baby so she could stop him — physically, if necessary. “What are you doing now? Get out of there!”

  “Hello. What’s this?” He yanked free a mint green dress. “Ah, much better. Do you save this for when William’s here … ?” He lifted an eyebrow, his expression turning wicked. “Or perhaps it’s to wear when William isn’t around.”

  “William loves that dress!” she protested, then blinked. What the dickens was she saying?

  “Sure he does. That’s why he has you running about looking like a bag lady most of the time. That’s one sick relationship you have going there.”

  “My relationship with Will … William is none of your concern.” How she wished she could get that name past her lips without stammering. Unfortunately, nine times out of ten it wouldn’t come.

  “Your relationship with him isn’t my concern.. .yet. But, give it time.”

  Grace stared in alarm. What did he mean? That at some point her relationship with William would become his concern? And precisely what did he have in mind, once it did? Confronting the nonexistent William? A tightness settled in her chest. Matters grew more complicated by the minute.

  Rummaging through what she privately referred to as her off-duty clothing, he stripped a pair of soft rosecolored slacks, black stretch pants and several brightly patterned pullover sweaters from their hangers and dropped them into her suitcase. After a moment’s consideration, he added a totally impractical white slip dress with a bolero jacket to the pile.

  “What’s that for?” she demanded.

  “For the hell of it.”

  Clearly, nothing she could say would stop him. She hugged Toni to her breast. “Are you quite through?”

  “No. Where are your cosmetics?” He crossed to her dresser. “Never mind. I’ve found them.”

  “I can do that,” she insisted.

  His response sounded suspiciously like a snort. He rifled through the bottles and tubes cluttering the tabletop with a knowledge and decisiveness that could only have come from long experience — a fact that didn’t escape her. Clearly, he was familiar with women. With everything about women. But then, she’d long suspected that when it came to the fairer sex, Luc was an expert.

  “Fascinating colors here,” he said in disgust. “Not one of them suits you. Except … Here we go.” He swept foundation, blush, eye shadow, mascara and lipstick into a cosmetic bag and tossed it into her suitcase. Then he turned and folded his arms across his chest. “What’s going on, Grace?”

  She shoved her glasses high up on the bridge of her nose and cuddled Toni close, as if for protection. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she claimed. But they both knew she lied.

  He lifted an eyebrow, his expression sardonic. “Oh, no? Two separate wardrobes. Two distinct sets of cosmetics. And you have no comment?”

  “Right. I have no comment.”

  The dangerous light reappeared in his eyes. “You have no comment … yet.”

  She swallowed. There was that word again. “Yet?” He crossed to stand directly in front of her. “Yet. It implies a temporary situation.” He leaned down until they were almost nose to nose. “One that will change in the near future. Are we clear on that?”

  She took a hasty step backward. “Crystal.”

  “Fine.” He turned to her suitcase and zipped the bag closed. “Just so you know, I’m taking this new Grace home with me. I’ve had the other at the office for quite long enough.” He lifted the suitcase off the bed and eased Toni from her arms. “Get changed and meet me down at the car. Next stop — Toys-a-Trillion.”

  She didn’t dare say another word. He was letting her off easy and she knew it. She also didn’t doubt for one little minute that he’d eventually ask some pointed questions. She nibbled her lower Up. What would she say when he demanded answers? The thought of telling him the truth about her “deal” with Dom appaUed her.

  It had all seemed so simple and harmless when the idea had first been proposed. But now … Luc would not react weU if he found out. And the chances of his uncovering the truth were becoming more and more likely. Which made her dream of starting her own business more and more unlikely.

  She didn’t waste any time. Stripping off her dirty clothes, she rushed through her shower. Next came a hasty debate over whether to wear off-duty clothes or office clothing. Wrapped in a wet towel, she stood shivering in front of her closet considering her choices — not that her decision took a lot of thought. Office won, hands down. Whether it was a perverse gesture on her part or a desperate need to cling to what camouflage she could, Grace couldn’t say. But the bulky wool suit in a nondescript shade of gray gave her back a sense of security she hadn’t experienced since Toni had fallen into their lives. Gathering up a fistful of pins, she slicked back her damp hair and skewered the wayward curls into a tight, forbidding knot at the nape of her neck. She still hadn’t acquired any more dye, nor did she have any extra bottles stashed at the apartment. Already bright gold streaks could be detected beneath the mousy brown rinse. How long would it be before Luc noticed — assuming he hadn’t already?

  Disguise somewhat in place, she left her apartment. Joining Luc in the car, she glanced anxiously at him to see how he reacted to her costume. Aside from sparin
g her a quick glance of amusement, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he put the car in motion.

  It took them another half hour to drive to the toy store. Located in the East Bay near a mall, the huge bam of a building contained every imaginable toy ever invented. Grace looked around in bewilderment. She’d never seen so many toys. And the setup! Some insane person had stacked the inventory from the floor to the thirty-foot ceiling. How in the world could anyone possibly obtain, let alone purchase the higher-altitude items? Crazed kids raced up and down the aisles scrambling through the displays, harried mothers in hot pursuit. One ambitious youngster busily climbed the shelving above her head.

  She turned to Luc. “Get the manager before that child kills himself,” she ordered.

  Luc simply grinned. “Be glad it isn’t closer to Christmas. This place turns into a real zoo, then.”

  “You’ve been here before?” she asked in astonishment.

  “Of course. Haven’t you?”

  “No,” she admitted, eyeing the determined climber. “And if I’m very lucky, I never will again.”

  “Don’t be such a spoilsport.” He reached above her, plucked the squirming youngster off the shelf and set him on the floor. Hollering in protest, the boy rounded a corner and disappeared from view. “I do all my Christmas shopping here. My brothers count on it.”

  “Your brothers are grown men,” she informed him. “Yes, but they’re kids at heart. And they like toys.” He grabbed a cart. “Let’s get down to business. Follow me.”

  “Where are you going?” Without answering, he headed toward the middle of the store. Grace scurried behind. She’d be lost in here for the next five months, if she didn’t keep up with him.

  Presently he stopped in the infant department. “Take a look at these. Baby pouches.” Without further ado, he ripped a carton apart, removed the pouch and tossed the empty box in the shopping basket. “Let’s try it on for size.”

  “Luc!” she exclaimed, appalled. “You can’t do that. They’ll arrest you for shoplifting or something.”