Twice the Temptation

by Rochelle Alers

  “What’s wrong, Denise?”

  A rush of heat singed Denise’s face and body when she realized the enormity of what had just taken place. “You coming here unannounced and then kissing me when someone could’ve walked in on us. That’s what’s wrong,” she spat out.

  Smiling, Rhett pushed his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers to keep from reaching for her again. Anger had replaced the fear, and he remembered Denise being most passionate whenever she was angry. Memories of their makeup sex were permanently branded into his head.

  “The next time I come I’ll make certain to make an appointment beforehand. And I promise never to kiss you again in your office.”

  Denise saw the beginnings of a smirk. If she was going to be angry at anyone, then it had to be at herself. She’d learned never to challenge Rhett Fennell because he would accept the challenge and win.

  He’d waged a silent and bloodless battle when he’d outlined the conditions for renewing her lease—leaving her with little or no recourse, and she was forced to accept his terms. Rhett had called it negotiating, while to her it was still a subtle form of blackmail.

  The residents in the neighborhood needed the child care center, she wanted to make certain it remained open, and it wasn’t as if she had a horde of men lining up outside her door to take her out.

  What Denise hadn’t wanted to think about was if she had had a boyfriend would Rhett have proposed the same game plan. Then she’d recalled him saying, “I need someone who will stand in as my date and hostess, provided your boyfriend doesn’t object,” and she’d answered her own question. It would not have made a difference.

  “Please give me a few minutes, and I’ll take you around to see the facility.”

  Walking on stiff legs, Denise went into the private bathroom and shut the door. The image staring back at her in the mirror over the sink was one she didn’t recognize.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered. If Rhett hadn’t ended the kiss when he did, she probably would’ve asked for more—and more translated into her begging him to make love to her.

  When she and Rhett shared a bed for the first time it had been her first time. Denise knew she’d shocked him, because she hadn’t told him she was a virgin. What she hadn’t wanted was for him to feel guilty and continue to see her out of a perverse sense of obligation.

  However, he did continue to date her. It was another month before they made love again, and she’d experienced her first orgasm. Making love with Rhett was always good. Makeup sex was even better. It was the memories of their lovemaking, the plans they’d made for a life beyond college, that had lingered with her after she’d graduated and returned to Philadelphia.

  It had taken more than a year for her to acknowledge what she’d had with Rhett was over and she had to move on with her life. She’d gotten back into the dating scene when she and several teachers at the school where she’d taught met regularly at a downtown Philly club on Friday nights. Denise had refused to date any of the male teachers with whom she worked, but she had met a software analyst at one of the weekly social mixers. They’d played telephone tag for several weeks before connecting.

  Denise had liked Kevin enough to go out with him for three months. They’d slept together once. Days later she had been filled with guilt because she’d compared Kevin to Rhett, and the former fell far short of satisfying her. Kevin had seemed to get the picture without her having to connect the dots, and they had mutually agreed to stop seeing each other.

  “Denise, are you all right in there?” asked Rhett outside the closed door.

  “I’m good. Just give me a few more minutes.”

  When did you become such an astute liar? Denise mused, as she splashed cold water on her face. She patted her face with a soft towel, then opened the chest over the sink and took out a small jar with powder that matched her skin tone. She shook out a minute amount on a brush and applied the powder to her face. Within seconds her face had a rich, healthy glow. A coat of mascara to her lashes and lip gloss rounded out her mini-makeover. Denise ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing up the curls before she washed her hands.

  It’s amazing what a new do, a new outfit and a little makeup can do to lift a woman’s spirit. Denise smiled in spite of the situation in which she’d found herself. “Thank you, Mom,” she whispered.

  Paulette Eaton’s manifesto had served her well on many occasions. She didn’t have a new do or outfit, but a little color on her face had done the trick. When she emerged from the bathroom she was emotionally ready to deal with the likes of Rhett Fennell.

  Her eyes were smiling and her step light as she reached for a lanyard with her picture ID, then led him out of her office. “This area of the center is called the administrative section. Whenever we have staff meetings, or something when we invite the parents and siblings of the children enrolled here, we hold them out here.”

  “It looks like a park,” Rhett said.

  “We wanted it to look like a park with the trees and benches,” Denise explained. “I’ve ordered an indoor waterfall and one of our board members gave the center a gift of a flat-screen television he’d won in a raffle. A technician is expected in before the end of the week to mount it on that wall.” She pointed to a wall where anyone sitting at the tables would be able to view it.

  “This place is so quiet. Where are the children?”

  “It’s nap time, so most of them are probably asleep.”

  “How long do they nap?”

  “From twelve thirty to two. At two we get them up and give them a little snack. From three o’clock on, they’re picked up by family members.” She swiped her ID along a device on the door leading to the area where the children were sleeping. “Even though we have state-of-the-art security with cameras and an alarm that is connected directly to the local police station, we do everything possible to ensure the safety of our children.”

  “I have to assume everyone is buzzed in.”

  Denise nodded. “Employees must swipe in and out, and parents and those designated to pick up their children are buzzed in and out. We tell our parents over and over that if custodial arrangements change, then we must know about it immediately. If a woman breaks up with her boyfriend or husband and she doesn’t want them to pick up her child or children, or if there is an order of protection or change in custody, then we must be notified like yesterday.”

  She stopped at a set of double doors, pushing one open. “This is our kitchen and Miss Jessie is our cook and dietician. Ms. Cox, this is Mr. Fennell.”

  Rhett nodded to the petite woman wearing a pale green uniform, hairnet and garish orange clogs. “Ms. Cox.”

  Jessie Cox smiled, then went back to slicing fruit for the afternoon snack. The industrial kitchen was outfitted with stainless-steel sinks and appliances. The refrigerators and walk-in freezers were also equipped with security devices.

  Reaching for his hand, Denise led Rhett out of the kitchen. “Ms. Cox has started a dialogue with the parents about proper nutrition for their children. A few of our children are overweight, but after a few months they begin dropping the pounds.”

  Rhett noticed Denise always referred to the children as our children, and he wondered if she’d substituted the children at the facility for the ones they may have had if they’d stayed together.

  “How many meals do you serve here?” he asked.

  “Breakfast, lunch and an afternoon snack.”

  “What time do you open?”

  “The facility opens at six, but parents can’t drop off their children until seven. We close at six, but will stay open as late as seven. After seven, the parents will have to pick up their children at the police station.”

  “What if they’re delayed?”

  “If they call us, then usually someone will stay later than seven. It’s something I don’t advertise or encourage, but there are always exceptions.”

  “Why do you take them to the police station? Isn’t that traumatic for th
e child?”

  “Of course it is, Rhett. We are day care—not a 24/7 babysitting service. If people don’t come and get their children, then they’re charged with abandoning their child. I’ll explain it at another time,” she said, lowering her voice when a teacher from the toddler group walked out into the hallway. “We group the children according to age.”

  Rhett peered through the large window on the door. The shades were drawn and the lights were out. He saw eight tiny bodies on sheet-covered cots under lightweight blankets. “How old are these little munchkins?”

  “Those are our two- and three-year-olds. They’re all potty-trained, they can feed themselves and all or most recognize the letters in the alphabet. By their third birthday they know their names and addresses, and some can recite their telephone number.”

  “Do you teach them to read?”

  Denise stared at Rhett’s profile as he continued to stare into the room. “I’ve set up a reading-readiness program for the three- and four-year-olds. Some schools are doing away with their pre-K programs, so we’ve had to pick up the slack. Child care is basically about socialization, but I’ve tried to incorporate as much education as I can to give our children a head start. When they leave here and enroll in regular school, all are familiar with the alphabet and most of them are able to read.

  “The social worker has made it her personal mission to connect with each parent and guardian. If certain deficits are identified, then Tonya becomes a parent’s worst nightmare. She will haunt the woman until she either has the child tested or receives the appropriate counseling.”

  Rhett listened intently when Denise talked about trying to make a difference, not only in the lives of the children but also their families. The center hosted a bimonthly family night for the parents, guardians and siblings of the children. The gatherings served to support the adage that it takes a village to raise a child.

  In keeping with the needs of working parents, New Visions had instituted a wellness clinic where children with colds and low-grades fevers were isolated and treated by a nurse practitioner. The children recovered quicker than they would have at home, and their parents didn’t have to miss work and stay home with them.

  The center was set up to enroll children from six months to twelve years of age. Some school-age children were dropped off at seven, fed breakfast, then lined up for the buses that would take them to their respective schools.

  “I’m currently working on a grant to fund an after-school homework or extra help program for middle- and high-school students.”

  Rhett stared out at the outdoor recreation area enclosed and protected by a high fence and monitored by cameras. There were the requisite slides, teeter-totters, sandboxes, wading pools and picnic tables and benches. All of the classrooms were spacious, with colorful cutouts pasted on windows, reading and play corners and cubbies where coats and boots were stored during colder weather. He’d smiled when seeing the tiny tables and chairs, unable to remember when he’d been that small.

  “How much is the grant?” he asked. Denise quoted a figure and he lifted his eyebrows a fraction when he realized what she wanted was less than he’d paid for his car.

  “The homework program wouldn’t be run here. I don’t want the older children interacting with the younger ones.”

  Shifting, he turned and stared at Denise. “Where will it be?”

  Denise gave Rhett a tender smile. “Hopefully I’ll be able to rent the space next door.”

  Taking his hands from his pockets, Rhett took a step closer to Denise. “Have you talked to the owner about the space?”

  She flashed a sexy moue. “Not yet.”

  “Why haven’t you, Ms. Eaton?”

  “First, it all depends on a grant I’ve been working on, so I don’t know if I’m going to get the funding.”

  “And secondly…”

  “Secondly, if I did get the funding, I’m not certain whether the owner would be willing to lease the space to New Visions, or what the rent would be.”

  “Have you completed your budget?”

  Denise shook her head. “No. The accountant will do the budget.”

  “Do you know when you’ll submit the grant?”

  She nodded. “I have a June fifteenth deadline for submission, and the winners will be announced September fifteenth.”

  Rhett reached out to touch her hair, but caught himself in time. He remembered Denise’s warning about her employees seeing her in a compromising position. “We’ll talk about the rent for the space.”

  “Don’t you mean negotiate?” she said.

  Attractive lines fanned out around his eyes when he smiled. “Are you willing to negotiate?”

  Crossing her arms under her breasts, Denise nodded. “I am if I can get a good deal.”

  “What do you consider a good deal, Denise?”

  “A dollar a month and…”

  “And what?” he asked when her words trailed off.

  “And I’ll make myself available to you more than just weekends.”

  Rhett narrowed his eyes. “How available is available?”

  “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

  “You of all people should know what being my girlfriend entails.” Denise nodded. Rhett held out his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Denise shook his hand. “Deal,” she confirmed.

  Rhett winked at her. “When do we start?”

  “This weekend. I have to get to Paoli by ten, which means we’ll have to get on the road early.”

  “I’ll come by and pick you up at six. That should give us plenty of time to get out of D.C. before the traffic builds up. We can stop along the way and have breakfast.”

  “Pack a bag, Rhett, because I plan to stay overnight in Philly.”

  “Where are we staying?” he asked.

  “I have a co-op in Penn’s Landing.”

  Eli had reported to Rhett that Denise had a buyer for the property and was expected to close on it in a matter of weeks. He never asked the former law enforcement officer how he’d gotten his information, but paid him well for it.

  “Okay. We’ll spend the night in Philly, but we’re going directly to the Cape from there, so you, too, will have to pack enough for two days.”

  Denise concluded the tour of the facility, walked Rhett back to the reception area and waited until the front door closed behind him. For the second time within two days she chided herself for falling prey to Rhett’s charm and her own vulnerability when it came to New Visions. What he hadn’t known was that she would agree to almost anything to keep the day care business she built from scratch viable, and that meant sleeping with the man who’d broken her heart.

  Chapter 5

  Denise felt excitement akin to what she’d experienced during the ribbon-cutting ceremony when she and the staff of New Visions posed for photo ops with the mayor and other local dignitaries. Rhett’s offer to charge her a dollar a month rent for the adjacent vacant building propelled her to complete the grant sooner rather than later. Not having to pay rent meant she could hire an additional instructor.

  The space, half the square feet of the day care center, would be configured into classrooms with teachers providing tutoring services in science, math, English and history. She’d wanted to include another subject—technology, but that meant she would have to purchase computers. Unfortunately, the amount of the grant would not cover the cost for new computers. She had considered going to a computer show and purchasing several older models, but decided the technology module would have to wait.

  She came in at six in the morning, and several nights she was still at her desk when the night janitor arrived to clean the center. She’d taken a three-day course on grant writing and the seminar proved invaluable when she had to navigate the waters of endless red tape, giving the bureaucrats exactly what they wanted to read and disseminate.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to spend the weekend here.”

  Denise’s head popped up. The nurse was
standing in the doorway. She’d changed out of her colorful scrubs and into jeans and a tank top. The children loved Miss Randi, and it’d taken redheaded, freckled-faced Miranda Gannon a while before she realized the ones who’d deliberately fallen down used it as a ruse to go to the infirmary because she had Band-Aids with their favorite cartoon characters.

  “Bite your tongue. As soon as I finish this paragraph I’m outta here.”

  Miranda rested her hip against the door frame. “If you’re staying in town and not really doing anything, I’d like to invite you to hang out with me and Harper.”

  Denise chuckled. “You, Harper and your brother?” Miranda nodded. “Look, Randi, I know Brice likes me, but what he doesn’t understand is that I can’t give him the attention he wants.”

  “He just wants to date you, Denise.”

  “The man wants to get married. He sees you with Harper and he wants what you have.”

  Miranda’s blue eyes narrowed. “Is it because he has red hair?”

  A shiver of annoyance worked its way down Denise’s back. She’d made it a policy not to socialize with her employees, but that was overlooked whenever they hosted a fundraiser or open house. During the last bake sale her parents had surprised her when Paulette donated a dozen cakes and twenty pounds of her prize-winning double chocolate chip cookies.

  “Call it for what it is, Miranda. If you’re skirting around the issue that I don’t want to go out with your brother because he’s white, then you’re dead wrong. FYI—the last man I dated was white, so there goes your theory as to why I won’t date Brice. Now, go home and enjoy your gorgeous husband.”

  A flush crept up Miranda’s neck to her hairline. “I’m sorry, Denise. I had no idea you’d dated out of your race. FYI—I’m going to spend the weekend seeing if Harper and I can make a little brown baby with red hair.” She held up a hand. “And, before you get your nose out of joint about losing a nurse, I know someone who will fill in for me while I’m out on maternity leave. Then when Harper or Randi Jr. turns six months he or she will become a New Visions baby.”