Who's the Daddy

by Judy Christenberry

  There was a pause before Caroline answered, and Max realized he’d hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry—” he began.

  “Never mind. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.”

  “Caroline, I’m sorry. He upset me last night. We need to talk. I’d like to understand what’s going on here.”

  “You know I can’t explain it, Max. I’ve got amnesia!”

  “Calm down. I know. Will you meet me at Mario’s?”

  Again she paused, and he held his breath for her answer.

  “Okay. Where is it?”

  “You don’t know where it is? We always— Sorry, I forgot.” He gave her directions, and they agreed to meet at seven. “And Caroline, I’m glad you called.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered before hanging up.

  Max sat with the receiver pressed to his ear until the dial tone became too annoying. Man, he had it bad if she could tie him into knots with a brief phone call.

  Yeah, he had it bad.

  “LEWIS, I REALLY appreciate your picking me up. I called for a taxi, but there was an hour’s wait,” Caroline explained as she slid into the front seat by her father’s driver.

  “You’re supposed to ride in back, Miss Caroline,” Lewis chided.

  “I know, but I’d rather ride with you, like I usually do.” She smiled at him until she saw the curious look that she was coming to hate. “No, I don’t know why I remembered that. Things, unimportant things, just come to me.” She sighed. “Ooh! This is so frustrating.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Do you want to go home?”

  “Yes, please. I need to change clothes before I go out.”

  “Will you need me to drive you?”

  “No, I’m going to drive myself.” She thought about asking him not to mention her outing to her father, but she didn’t want to put him into such a difficult position. James Adkins could be harsh if an employee didn’t do exactly as he wished. Better not to call attention to her plans and hope Lewis wouldn’t think anything about it.

  The rush hour in Denver had gotten increasingly heavy the past few years. Cars were backed up quite a way behind them. Caroline was looking over her shoulder at the line of traffic when the limo suddenly jerked and skidded before Lewis quickly corrected it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  The chauffeur eased the limo onto the shoulder of the road and came to a stop. “I think we’ve got a flat tire.”

  “Will it take long to fix it?” she asked, automatically looking at her watch. She’d left the home later than she’d intended and it was almost six now.

  “No. I’ll hurry.”

  She felt guilty sitting in comfort in the limo as Lewis did the dirty work. Opening her door, she swung her feet to the pavement and stood up.

  “Uh, Miss Caroline, we have a problem.”

  “What is it, Lewis?”

  “Two tires are flat. I must’ve hit something in the road, but I didn’t see it.”

  Seeing the worry on his face, she quickly reassured him. “Don’t worry about it, Lewis. I’m not running that late.”

  “I don’t think you understand. I don’t have two spares. Only one. I’ll have to call for a tow truck, and there are only a few that can handle a limo.”

  Now she understood. And if she didn’t know better, she’d think her father had planned this incident, too. He was determined to keep her away from Max.

  “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “So you call a tow truck, and then I’ll call a taxi. It will be all right, Lewis.”

  Both of them made their calls, and they each discovered they would have to wait.

  “I sure am sorry, Miss Caroline,” Lewis said softly when they’d both returned to the limo.

  “I know, Lewis.” Her mind was dwelling on the man waiting for her at the restaurant, but it suddenly occurred to her that the flat tires provided her with an excellent opportunity to quiz Lewis.

  “Lewis, do you remember when I left home two months ago? I was gone for about two weeks.”

  “Yes, Miss Caroline.”

  “Do you know why I left, or where I went?”

  “No, I don’t. I didn’t drive you the day you left.”

  “Did my father say anything? Complain about me?”

  Lewis grinned. “He’s always complaining about you, Miss Caroline. You know how he is.”

  “I know,” she agreed with a sigh. How she knew.

  Suddenly she remembered a scene, a year or two ago, she thought, between her and her father. She’d been his son, the son he’d always wanted, following him into his business, acting as his right-hand man. Until she’d realized she wasn’t enjoying her work. In fact she hated it.

  When she’d told her father, he’d been heartbroken. That’s why she was still living at home. He’d allowed her to return to school and pick up a degree in interior design if she promised not to move out.

  “It would upset your mother,” he had said gruffly, but she’d known he meant himself.

  The memory faded and any more questioning was pointless, so she accepted Lewis’s offer of a game of gin while they waited. The taxi and the tow truck arrived almost simultaneously. Caroline hoped she’d be able to depart without Lewis hearing her destination, but he walked her to the taxi.

  “Where shall I tell the driver to go?” he asked.

  “A restaurant in Golden called Mario’s.”

  Without comment, Lewis gave the destination to the driver, apologized again for stranding her and stepped back. She waved goodbye as the taxi pulled out into traffic.

  While the driver negotiated their way, Caroline pulled out her makeup bag. So much for the idea of having a quick shower, changing clothes. She’d have to make do with the contents of her makeup bag.

  It was a little after seven when she arrived at the restaurant. Though it wasn’t a four-star establishment, she liked the look of the place. It had a warmth and intimacy of which she approved, and she didn’t feel terribly out of place in her denim jumper.

  “Yes, ma’am?” the maître d’ said in way of a greeting.

  “I’m here to meet Max Daniels. He—”

  “Of course. Right this way.” The man showed no hesitation, so she figured either Max dined here often or he’d bribed the man outrageously.

  The man led her to the back corner of the restaurant where the light was the dimmest. Max rose from the booth and moved aside for her to slide in. When he joined her on the same side, she looked up, surprised.

  “If we’re going to talk, I don’t want to be overheard.”

  She didn’t, either. And she certainly didn’t mind close quarters with Max. As long as she could control the wild response he evoked.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. Lewis was taking me home in the limo when we had two flat tires.”

  He gave her a wry look. “Was your father planting nails in the road?”

  She tried to look stern, but an answering smile refused to be denied. “No. Though he might have if he’d thought of it.”

  “I’m not exactly his favorite person.”

  “No, you’re not, but I’m not sure why. I think the two of you have a lot in common.” She knew he didn’t appreciate her comment by the ferocious frown on his face.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You both started out small and became a success. You’re both very protective…and you like to get your way.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  They shared a grin.

  “I know. That’s one thing I’ve discovered about myself since the accident. I think I’ve been terribly spoiled all my life.”

  “Maybe. But I would never’ve guessed you were James Adkins’s daughter. You never acted stuck-up with me.”

  The waiter arrived with their menus and they paused to read them.

  “What’s good here?” she asked as she scanned the list.

  “You don’t remember?”

  She lifted her gaze to his to discover the look she hated. The look that asked for the thousandth ti
me if her memory had come back.

  “Please, Max. Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “You’re wondering if I remember something, but I don’t. And I hate that look. It’s like I’m standing in the middle of the room in my underwear while everyone else is fully clothed.”

  Max’s grin lit up his blue eyes.

  “That’s an interesting analogy.”

  She didn’t think she was a person to blush often, but the mental picture brought heat to her cheeks. “I—I—”

  “We’d better figure out what we’re going to order. The waiter’s on his way over here,” he said, changing gears.

  “Did we come here before?”

  “All the time.”

  “What did I order?”

  Max explained about all her favorites and they ordered. As soon as the waiter left the table, she drew a deep breath and began the question that had been bothering her for days. “Max, how—”

  “How did we meet?”

  “No. Yes. Okay, how did we meet?” That wasn’t the question she had in mind, but maybe it would be better to wade into these murky waters rather than dive in over her head. After all, they had all evening.

  “You came into the model home I have. I happened to be there. We started talking and you told me you were an interior designer, looking for work.”

  Caroline frowned, thinking about what he’d said. It made sense, if she’d argued with her father about her future. But somehow, she wasn’t satisfied. She shifted on the booth seat and brushed her leg against his. Immediately her pulse picked up speed. “Something wrong?”

  “No. I just—nothing.” How could she explain that his slightest touch filled her with all kinds of fantasies? “What happened then?”

  He didn’t answer right away. She frowned, wondering why he was hesitating, when he reached over and took her hand. Raising it to his lips, he caressed it and then laid their clasped hands across his thigh.

  “Nothing the hell should’ve happened, but I couldn’t let you walk away. I hate to admit it, but you knocked me for a loop.”

  “I did?” She wanted to run her hand up and down his thigh, to feel his muscles tense under her touch. Instead, she let her hand rest in his, hoping he wouldn’t notice her palm was sticky with desire. “Did you ask me out?”

  He chuckled and she was amazed to see the blood surge beneath his tanned cheeks as he looked away.

  “I did,” he said and then added, “once I got up my courage.”

  She pulled her hand from his and grasped his chin to bring his face around to hers. “Wait a minute, Max, I may be gullible, but let’s not take this to the ridiculous.”

  “What?”

  “You were afraid to ask me out? I bet you have to beat off the women with a stick, so don’t give me this shy bit.”

  He leaned toward her until their mouths were only inches apart, and said, “None of them ever meant anything to me. You did.”

  She gulped, her heart fluttering wildly. “Even then?”

  “Then, now and always,” he whispered, and his lips reached for hers.

  “Good evening.”

  As absorbed as they were in each other, Caroline and Max hadn’t noticed Prescott’s approach. Without waiting for an invitation, he slid into the empty side of the booth.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I join you.”

  “But we do,” Caroline said, her voice stiff.

  “Well, if you feel that way, I suppose I could leave, but all the tables are full. When I saw the two of you, I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind if I sat with you. I’ve been on the road all day and it’s almost an hour’s drive home.”

  Caroline wasn’t sure she believed him, but after exchanging a glance with Max, she nodded. “I suppose—”

  “Thanks. Have you already ordered?”

  After the waiter was summoned and Prescott placed his order, he turned to the two of them, eagerness on his face.

  “What are you two doing? Having a secret rendezvous? That doesn’t seem fair to me and Adrian.”

  “You and Adrian can—” she began, heat in her voice, when Max intervened, squeezing her hand under the table.

  “Have you been working out of town today, Prescott? Just what kind of work do you do for James?”

  Max’s conversational gambit was far more successful than her anger. Prescott explained his responsibilities in great detail. Gruesome detail, Caroline thought. She really didn’t care what Prescott did for her father.

  Now if it had been Max explaining his job, she would’ve hung on his every word. As it was, she could only admire his skillful handling of Prescott. Before long, Prescott would think he and Max were best friends.

  “I do most of the traveling for James. He doesn’t like to go out of town as much as he used to. I scout the properties and make reports to him. When he’s favorably impressed with something, he may take a trip to look at it himself. He, of course, makes the final decision, but he relies heavily on my expertise.”

  Caroline felt an urge to yawn, but the waiter’s arrival saved her. He delivered plates of steaming pasta that made her mouth water. At least she would have something to do besides listen to Prescott.

  Conversation floundered for a few minutes as they each enjoyed the meal. It seemed ages to Caroline since she’d shared lunch at the home. And it hadn’t compared to what she was eating now.

  Once her hunger was satisfied, Caroline paid more attention to the press of Max’s thigh against hers, the strength of his shoulder as she leaned against him. He may have thought she knocked him for a loop, but Caroline had a suspicion the feeling had been mutual.

  The question she’d intended to ask at once when he’d thought she wanted to know how they met was much more to the point. And she hoped she got an answer tonight.

  And then again, maybe she didn’t want to know.

  But, she had to.

  She had to know how soon they’d made love…and how often. She just hadn’t realized how difficult that question would be. None of the men had offered the information.

  It might go a long way in informing her just what kind of a woman she was. And if she was sleeping with three men at the same time, she had a lot of room for improvement.

  Max, too, had finished eating. He spoke to Prescott again.

  “Who supervises out-of-town projects? I should think that would be a lot of hard work. James wouldn’t want just anyone to handle that.”

  Caroline frowned at the man beside her. He was buttering up Prescott as if he were a fat turkey, going into the oven for Thanksgiving. Why? What was he wanting?

  “Usually, I’m the one who oversees those projects. James knows he can trust me. I’ve worked for him for eight years now,” Prescott boasted. “And I can tell you he doesn’t keep people around if they don’t pull their weight. Right, Caroline?”

  “Of course,” Caroline agreed politely, but she rolled her eyes in disgust. How was she supposed to know? She couldn’t even remember past four days ago.

  “What are the recent projects you’ve been working on? Obviously you don’t have one going right now.”

  “Aha. You’re hoping to get some investment ideas from me, aren’t you? I’ll admit everyone wants to follow James. He is a genius.”

  Max shrugged his shoulders with a grin. “Okay, you caught me. Tell me about some of your past projects, then, if you won’t talk about future ones.”

  Caroline frowned again. Max was up to something, but she couldn’t figure out what. Maybe that was because she was too busy watching him, loving the expressions on his face, the grooves down his cheeks, showing how often he smiled. His blue eyes twinkled in the soft light, and she wanted all his attention on her, not Prescott and his boring conversation.

  She almost jumped as his hand sought hers under the table. When his warmth flowed into her fingers, she relaxed again and leaned against him.

  “Well, last year…” Prescott began, and Caroline almost groaned. The silly man
was going to explain in incredible detail every project he’d overseen.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back,” she said, interrupting his nonstop spiel.

  “Yeah, hurry back,” Max whispered as he stood. She looked at him with a frown, but he didn’t elaborate. Was he afraid she’d miss a single second of Prescott’s career?

  She really did hurry, much to her own surprise, but Max’s words intrigued her. Had he discovered something about Prescott? Other than that he liked to talk about himself, of course. That’s wasn’t a difficult discovery.

  She returned to the table, lipstick replaced and her hair combed, just as Prescott began to talk about this year’s projects.

  When Max took her hand in his again, she was content to sip her tea and wait Prescott out.

  “Last June, we started building apartments in Cheyenne, Wyoming. James decided that that city is hitting a growth spurt.”

  “Cheyenne? Now that interests me,” Max said, leaning forward. “How many units did you build?”

  Prescott tossed out numbers and Max nodded his head. Caroline wiggled her toes, wishing she and Max were somewhere alone.

  “How long did it take to build them?” Max asked.

  “Oh, we had a tight deadline on that one. You wouldn’t believe how quickly we put those up. Quality building, you understand. We don’t skimp on anything. But we finished those apartments in six weeks. Worked straight through the weekends. I didn’t get home the entire time,” Prescott said, leaning back, as if waiting for accolades for his dedication.

  Max squeezed Caroline’s hand, but she’d already caught the significance of Prescott’s words.

  “You stayed there the entire time, Prescott? What dedication.”

  “Oh, I’m glad to do it, Caroline. Your dad’s a terrific man to work for.”

  “Yes, but I do have one question.”

  “Sure. Ask anything you like.”

  His expansive mood almost made Caroline feel sorry for him.

  Almost.

  “Just how did you manage to get me pregnant if you weren’t even here for six weeks?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN