by Kara Lennox
One of those kids, he realized, was her daughter. The other was a little boy he didn’t recognize.
“I used photos of Kaylee and a neighbor boy from Houston just as examples,” she said almost apologetically. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Okay?” It was fantastic. Given the ridiculously short timeline, he hadn’t expected anything this elaborate from Jane. “I thought we’d discuss concepts this morning and you could knock out a few rough sketches to show the client. But this—”
“I did too much.”
“Well, yes. You really should have discussed this with me before you invested so much time, just to be sure we were on the right track.”
“I know that now. But I wasn’t thinking about it at the time. I’m just so excited to be using my art. For years I haven’t been able to devote any time to it, and I hadn’t realized it, but I…I’d shut down a part of myself. And now I have that part back and…well, I’m sure you don’t want to hear all that.”
Actually, he was fascinated. It seemed that the beautiful, polished woman who had first attracted him was far more interesting than he would have guessed. Now he saw, in full color, the passion that lurked below her slick surface.
And it turned him on.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about her revealing something so personal to him. It indicated a level of trust he certainly hadn’t earned.
“I still have the rest of the day,” she said, suddenly all business. “What changes would you like me to make?”
“Nothing. You nailed it.” He didn’t often feel that way about his artists’ work. Usually there was a lot of back-and-forth before he was satisfied.
“How about this one, then?” She placed a second comp on the drawing board, and Max’s jaw dropped yet again. It was another beautifully rendered drawing, showing the same little boy and girl, but in different poses. The first ad was “Tough’n’Sweet,” one of his preliminary ideas for an ad campaign. This one was “Love’n’Play,” which Jane must have come up with on her own. It showed the little boy getting a hug, and the little girl coming down a slide.
Max didn’t know what to say. He’d seen that Jane had talent, but this was incredible. “Have you ever shown your work?”
She raised startled eyebrows. “Shown? As in, at an art show or gallery?” She laughed. “Other than in college, no.”
“You could, you know. You’re good enough.”
“You aren’t saying that because you’re going to fire me, are you? Suggesting an alternative career to soften the blow?”
“No.” He smiled, wanting to reassure her. “The second ad is good, too. You’re going to work out here just fine.”
She beamed at him, and his heart lurched unexpectedly. “Thanks.”
“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? Sounds like you put in a full day of work before you even got here.”
“Thanks, but I couldn’t. They’re doing some construction work at the marina right by my boat, and it’s so loud I couldn’t possibly sleep there during the day.”
“All right. Hey, there’s a couch in my office. Why don’t you sack out there? I’m interviewing potential account executives this morning, so I’ll be in the conference room where I won’t bother you.”
She looked at her watch. “You don’t have more work for me?”
“I have a hot project coming in this afternoon, probably around one o’clock, but nothing more right now.”
“A little nap, maybe,” she conceded, then picked up one of her pastels. “Just let me put a few finishing touches on—”
“No.” He stood and took the crayon out of her hand, instantly aware where their fingers briefly brushed. Though she might be slightly unkempt this morning, she smelled fantastic. “You’ll get engrossed in your work and suddenly you’ll look up and hours will have passed. If you want to fiddle with the drawings after your nap, fine, but they’re perfect as is.”
He ushered Jane into his office and cleared a stack of magazines and some mail off the sofa. “I’ve catnapped on this sofa myself, so I can vouch for its comfort.”
“Would you wake me up in an hour or so? I should be good to go by then.”
“Sure.” He drew the shades, turned out the lights and left her there. But as he conducted his interviews, his mind kept wandering to the sleeping beauty in his office.
She was something else.
After the second interview, he realized he’d left the third candidate’s résumé on his desk, and he wanted to review it before the woman arrived. He opened his office door as quietly as he could and tiptoed in without turning on the light.
Jane was flopped on the sofa facedown, one delicate arm bent over her head, her dark hair spilling across her shoulders. Her slow, even breathing told him she was still dead asleep.
She’d wanted to be awakened in an hour, but he didn’t have the heart to disturb her. He stood there for a few moments, watching and listening to her breathe. Then she rolled over, still asleep, her pale blue T-shirt riding up high and offering him a glimpse of her creamy stomach. Her navel peeked out over the top of her low-riding jeans. She had a tiny gold ring in it.
Funny, he wouldn’t have thought Jane Selwyn to be the type to sport a piercing. Maybe it represented her own little rebellion against the corporate-wife role she’d played during her marriage. The thought made Max smile as he slipped out and quietly closed the door.
JANE’S PHONE DREW HER out of a deep, deep sleep and she realized she’d done more than catnap. She sat up and tried to locate her cell.
There it was, on the floor. She bent and picked it up, seeing with a start that it was Kaylee’s school. She became instantly alert.
“Jane Selwyn.” Her heart thundered in her ears.
“Hi, Jane, this is Monica Wagner, the nurse at Kaylee’s school. Now, don’t worry,” she said hastily, “Kaylee’s okay, but she is running a low fever. She’s complaining of an earache. You’ll have to come pick her up. As you know, it’s school policy that any child with a fever must be sent home.”
Jane sighed. “I’ll be right there.”
She looked at her watch. It was after eleven—she’d slept for nearly three hours. It was enough that she could have worked the rest of the day with no problem, except for this little wrinkle.
Kaylee had experienced earaches before. She would have to visit the doctor and get an antibiotic. But where did that leave Max’s hot project?
For the second day in a row, she risked arousing her boss’s wrath and getting herself fired. But it was worse today than yesterday. Now, she had a taste of what this job would be like. She knew what she would be giving up.
The first ad had been a bit troublesome, but she’d begun to feel the power of the computer program by the time she’d finished. And the previous night had been incredible.
She loved this job. And despite his perfectionism, she loved Max as a boss. He was so passionate about his work, and his mere presence electrified her. She’d never wanted to please anyone as much as she did him, and that included her ex-husband.
She didn’t stop to analyze what that might mean, or exactly how far she’d go to make him happy.
Chapter Four
“Wow.” Ellen Lowenstein, owner and CEO of Kidz’n’Stuff, smiled in obvious surprise and pleasure as she studied Jane’s drawings. She and Max sat in the newly furnished conference room, kicking around Max’s ideas for an ad campaign. The carpeting had been laid yesterday afternoon, and the furniture had arrived only this morning.
Carol had literally been hanging the last picture when the potential clients had arrived.
Ellen was in her forties, round and matronly with salt-and-pepper hair and a penchant for dangly earrings. She was cheerful and upbeat, and Max felt he was making a good impression on her.
Unfortunately, also present was the Kidz’n’Stuff marketing manager, a hard-nosed, nonsmiling man with the unfortunate name of Ogden Purcell. It was hard to know what Ogden was thinking, because his poker face offered up
no clues. But Max got a distinct impression the man would not be impressed with flash. He would want hard figures.
“I understood today was simply a get-to-know-you meeting,” Ellen said. “I had no idea you would put in so much work on spec.”
Ogden cleared his throat. “You do understand, Mr. Remington, that we’re still considering several agencies.”
“Yes, of course,” Max said smoothly. “But my artist was so enthusiastic about the possibility of working on this account, she stayed up all night working on these. She really loves her work.”
“It shows.”
“Let’s talk about print placement,” Ogden said. “You said in your original proposal you had some fresh ideas?”
“Yes, I do.” Max whipped out some documents he’d prepared for this moment. “I’ve been researching some smaller publications that are on the rise in terms of circulation. In my opinion, these lesser-known magazines…”
Max realized he’d lost Ellen. Her gaze wasn’t on the numbers in front of her, but on something behind Max. Max turned, and his heart sank. A drowsy little girl had just pushed the conference-room door open and toddled into the room.
“My goodness, who is this?” Ellen asked.
Max wasn’t sure if she was pleased or appalled to see a child roaming around the Remington Agency. “That’s Kaylee. She has an earache and couldn’t go to preschool today, so she’s hanging out with us.”
“She’s the little girl in the ad!” Ellen said.
Kaylee stared up at Ellen, apparently fascinated with her bright colors and dangly earrings.
For a moment, Max was paralyzed. He’d never had to deal with a situation like this. But when Kaylee took another step forward, looking like she wanted to climb into his client’s lap, instinct drove Max to move. He reached out, snagged Kaylee’s hand, and drew her toward him instead.
He could pick the girl up and return her to her mother with some strong words about keeping the child out of his hair, as Jane had promised to do. But he hated to break up the rhythm of this meeting any more than it already was.
Instead, he scooped up Kaylee and placed her in his lap. She looked up at him with big, questioning eyes, and Max prayed that she didn’t let loose with an earsplitting scream like she’d done yesterday afternoon, before her medicine had taken effect and dulled the pain of her earache.
He also hoped she didn’t call him “mean” as she’d done two days ago. Having Ellen see him reviled by a little girl wouldn’t help with his image.
But either Kaylee was too drowsy on medicine to show much of a reaction, or she had revised her opinion of Max, because after a moment or two she looked away and settled into his lap, shoving her thumb into her mouth.
“Anyway,” Max said, “I’ve done some research into the demographics of some smaller circulation magazines…” He continued the presentation as if nothing was wrong, keeping one arm around Kaylee and using the other to point out the various numbers as he talked about them.
Ogden seemed interested. He asked several intelligent questions about the magazines, and Max answered them with confidence.
Ellen, however, seemed a little bored, and her gaze frequently strayed to Kaylee. Maybe numbers weren’t her thing. Since she was the ultimate decision-maker, he tried not to get too technical.
She probably thought having a child at their meeting was the height of nonprofessionalism. If Jane and her wayward three-year-old lost him this account, he was not going to be happy.
Finally the meeting concluded, and Kaylee had fallen asleep, drooling slightly on Max’s shirt. Wonderful.
Max stood as his potential clients did, managing to hold Kaylee with one hand and shake hands with the other. Kaylee didn’t wake. She was a limp rag doll in his arms.
He had to admit it was a rather nice feeling, having a little human being trust him to this degree. She reminded him painfully of Hannah, the only other child he’d ever held like this, and his heart lurched at the thought.
Breaking up with Hannah’s mother had been a relief. But losing Hannah—God, it would kill him to go through something like that again.
Max walked his clients down the hall. They took the beautiful ads Jane had drawn with them, intending to show them to others on staff.
“We’ll be making a decision in the next couple of weeks,” Ellen said. “But I’m very impressed by what I see.”
Yesss! Max mentally punched his fist into the air. Kaylee hadn’t blown it for him after all.
They’d almost made it to the reception area when the door to Jane’s office burst open and she flew out, a panicked look on her face.
“Max! Max, have you seen Kaylee?” she yelled, looking a bit deranged.
He turned, so she could see Kaylee was safe and sound. “Shhh. She’s right here.”
“Oh, thank God.” Jane rushed toward them. “I am so sorry. Last time I checked, she was napping on the pallet I made up for her, and then I looked over and she was gone—”
“Jane, it’s okay.”
“I hope she didn’t ruin your meeting.”
“On the contrary,” Ellen said with a smile, “she was a welcome distraction from all the facts and figures. And it’s so refreshing to see a man so comfortable with children.”
Jane didn’t bother to hide the surprised look on her face, but at least she didn’t contradict the client.
“I’m Ellen Lowenstein.” She held out her hand to Jane, who shook it, recovering her composure.
“It’s so nice to meet you. I love your clothes. I mean, the clothes you design. Well, of course, I like your clothes, too. That’s a lovely suit.”
Max shot Jane a strong look, hoping she would just close her mouth. She was blathering.
“Thank you,” Ellen said as Ogden stood mutely by her side, arms folded, not smiling. “Has Kaylee done much modeling?”
“Modeling?” Jane looked confused for a moment, but then she got it. “Oh, you saw the drawings. No, I did those drawings from some snapshots, nothing professional.”
“So you’re the artist. It’s doubly nice to meet you.”
“Thanks.”
Ogden pointedly looked at his watch. “We do have another appointment this afternoon.”
“Right.” Ellen smiled at the man. “Ogden keeps me on schedule. Well, you’ll be hearing from us.”
Max handed off Kaylee to Jane and walked his maybe-clients to the door.
“Do you like baseball?” Ellen asked suddenly.
“Yeah, sure,” Max responded. “Although I have to confess, I’m still a Mets fan.”
“We have a box at the Minute Maid Park. Perhaps you’d like to be our guests next week at an Astros game. With your wife and little girl, of course.”
What? Ellen thought Kaylee was his daughter, and Jane his wife? He knew what he should do. He should immediately correct her misconception. But what came out of his mouth was,
“Sounds wonderful. We’d love to.”
JANE JOGGED BACK to her office and gently placed Kaylee back on her pallet. The child didn’t wake up. She’d had a miserable night last night, and consequently Jane had, too. They were both in desperate need of sleep.
Apparently, though, the antibiotics had finally kicked in. Jane only wished that when Kaylee had awakened, she hadn’t wandered into the last place she ought to be.
Max was going to fire Jane. What choice did he have? She had promised to keep an eye on Kaylee and make sure she didn’t bother Max, and Jane had broken that promise. Now the most important meeting in the Remington Agency’s history had been compromised.
Jane headed back out of her office, stopped, returned to her desk, opened the bottom drawer and pulled her Klean-Up towelettes out of her purse. Then she scurried to the reception room, where Max and Carol were engaged in a spirited discussion.
“You are in so much trouble,” Carol was saying.
Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.
“I couldn’t help it. I got carried away in the moment. She liked me an
d I didn’t want to burst her bubble.”
“How are you going to explain this to Jane?” Carol asked.
“Shh. I’ll think of something.”
He’d already hired someone to replace her. That must be what they were talking about.
She burst into the reception area. “Max, I am so sorry.” She tore open the foil packet. “I was focusing on the new ad, and I guess Kaylee woke up and crept out of the office without me seeing her.”
She pulled the moist towelette from the packet and began attacking the drool stain on Max’s chest. He wore a beautiful shirt with a pale olive pinstripe. It probably cost a month’s salary—her salary, anyway.
Max jumped back. “What are you doing?”
“Taking care of that stain before it sets.” Maybe she shouldn’t have touched him without asking, but with a three-year-old around all the time she was used to jumping on stains, whether they were on her, Kaylee or someone else. “These little cloths are pretreated with stain remover. They work really well, even on oil and crayon. Spit should be no problem.”
“Except this is a silk-blend shirt.”
Oops.
He held out his hand. “Here, let me see it. I guess it couldn’t get any worse.” He took the towelette from her and scrubbed at the already damp spot on his chest.
“It’ll look better when it dries.” Well, duh.
She was normally a composed woman. Even in divorce court she hadn’t lost it. Everything she’d said had been cool and confident. But around Max, she was a blithering idiot. Those people from Kidz’n’Stuff probably thought he hired mentally challenged employees.
“Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s just a shirt.”
“No, I mean, about Kaylee interrupting your important meeting. What did she do?”
“She just wandered in. I picked her up and put her in my lap and kept going like it was an everyday occurrence.”