Verdict: Daddy

by Charlotte Douglas

  “The ad for a nanny hits the papers tomorrow,” she said. “Hopefully, we’ll find someone by the end of the week.”

  If not, she promised herself as she headed for the guest room, Agnes would have to take care of the twins at night until a permanent nanny could be found.

  Either way, she promised herself, she’d be moving out by Saturday.

  AT THE BISTRO BY THE BAY, Marissa squeezed a lemon wedge into her iced tea. The restaurant building was crowded with winter tourists, so the sisters had taken a table on the deck to enjoy the warm sunshine and light breeze.

  Marissa, glad that Suze appeared less stressed than the last time they’d talked alone, leaned across the table. “Blake and I have interviewed six applicants in the past two days.”

  “Any good prospects?”

  Marissa shook her head. “None that I’d hire to take care of my own kids, if I had them.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Two were quite elderly and frail. They didn’t have the stamina to handle twin infants.”

  “And the others?”

  “Three were total air heads. They had no real qualifications and didn’t seem smart enough to come in out of the rain, much less be responsible for the welfare of children.”

  “And the sixth?”

  Marissa felt herself blushing. “Blake liked her, but I didn’t.”

  “How come?”

  “The woman seemed more interested in Blake than in Drew.”

  “Was she pretty?”

  Marissa nodded. “A knockout. I got the impression she’s looking for a husband, not a job.”

  “Is that so bad? Maybe Blake should get married and adopt the twins himself.” Suze twirled a strand of pasta on her fork and popped it neatly into her mouth.

  “Blake’s not the marrying kind.”

  “Says who?”

  “Everything about him shouts ‘perfectly happy single guy.”’

  Suze cocked her head and considered Marissa with eyes very like their father’s. “And he’s never given any indication he wants more?”

  Marissa recalled what a remarkable lover he’d been, but she wasn’t about to share that special memory with anyone, not even her sister. “I get signals, but they’re always ambiguous.”

  “What kind of signals?”

  “He keeps asking me to stay.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  Marissa shook her head. “He never says he wants me. I suspect he just wants my help with the twins.”

  Suze frowned. “And the other signals?”

  “There were two baskets with four dozen red roses in my bedroom when I came home from work yesterday.”

  Suze almost spit her mouthful of iced tea. “Red roses! He can’t send a clearer message than that.”

  “The card read, ‘Thank you for all your help with Drew.”’

  “No declaration of undying love?”

  Marissa gazed over the bay at a trio of pelicans banking toward the pier where the restaurant sat. “Not a word.”

  “But they were red roses, not a dish garden. That has to mean something,” Suze insisted.

  “Maybe only that Blake doesn’t know the language of flowers.”

  “You were always crazy about him as a kid. That hasn’t changed, has it?” Sympathy edged her sister’s voice.

  “Blake has always been special to me. But I’m not sure what my feelings are. I think I love him, but for all I know, I’m simply on the rebound from Harry.”

  “Uh-uh,” Suze said with a definite shake of her head. “You were over Harry years before the divorce.”

  “What should I do, Suze?”

  Her sister gave a bitter snort. “You’re asking me? I’m not exactly the poster girl for happy marriages.”

  “But somehow I have to sort out how I really feel about Blake.”

  “Has he kissed you?” Suze had inherited their father’s cross-examination skills. She would have made a hell of a lawyer.

  “Not recently.”

  “How recently?” her sister probed.

  Not since that unforgettable night in Cedar Key.

  Marissa felt a sudden stab of conscience. Suze had big troubles of her own, and Marissa didn’t want to bother her with more.

  “I didn’t meet to talk about myself.” she said. “How are things with you and Michael?”

  A cloud settled over Suze’s features. “I’m not sure.”

  “Have you talked with him?”

  Suze nodded. “He’s agreed to go for counseling. We had our first session yesterday.”

  “How did it go?”

  Suze frowned. “Okay, I think. This counselor came highly recommended, but she’s definitely an in-your-face, tell-it-like-it-is type.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  Suze shrugged. “I’m not sure how Michael’s male ego is going to take her approach. She didn’t pull any punches telling him he’s been shirking his responsibilities to his family.”

  Marissa reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Nobody likes being told he’s in the wrong.”

  Suze grimaced. “Don’t I know it. She didn’t go easy on me, either.”

  “You? What have you done?”

  “According to the counselor, I didn’t put my foot down early in the marriage when Michael was spending so much time with his buddies and hobbies and neglecting us. She claims I kept quiet to keep peace.” Suze’s eyes filled with pain. “She’s right.”

  Marissa’s thoughts flew back to the early days of her marriage, when she was guilty of the same thing. But Michael wasn’t Harry. Michael loved Suze and his boys more than he cared about himself. Harry, on the other hand, had been a full-fledged narcissist.

  “You can’t solve a problem without identifying it first,” Marissa said soothingly. “Looks like you’re on the right track.”

  “Next time she wants Michael to commit to weekly sessions for six months.”

  “That’s a long time!”

  “Not as long as a life without him would be,” Suze said with a sorrowful smile.

  “I know you’re doing the right thing,” Marissa told her, but she couldn’t help wondering what the right thing was in her own situation. She fleetingly considered asking the name of Suze’s counselor, but quickly discarded the idea. The woman was a marriage and family therapist. With a sigh Marissa silently acknowledged that she had neither marriage nor a family of her own, so what was the point?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “The applicant’s here,” Blake called to Marissa and went to answer the door. He’d already shut Bo in the kitchen, in case the prospective nanny was uneasy around dogs. That fact alone would disqualify her, because he wasn’t going to assign Bo to outside-dog status to suit an employee.

  With a grimace, Blake faced the brutal truth, that he would find any excuse not to hire a live-in nanny for the twins. Maybe he was grasping at straws, but he continued to hope that, if the right help didn’t materialize, Marissa would stay. And as long as she was under his roof, he’d have a better shot at eventually winning her trust and her heart.

  With that goal in mind, Blake had nixed every nanny applicant so far. None had been satisfactory, anyway. He’d pretended to be interested in the pretty one, hoping to stir some jealousy in Marissa, but the only objection she’d raised against the young, attractive woman had been her lack of valid references.

  He’d also hoped the roses he’d sent would soften her resistance. She’d thanked him graciously, but the flowers hadn’t lessened the distance she’d placed between them ever since that night in Cedar Key. Blake was no expert on women, but, considering their shared past, he knew Marissa well. What had happened that night had been more than physical enjoyment. In retrospect he’d decided that she had given herself, then pulled back, afraid of being hurt again. Given enough time, Marissa would realize that Blake would never hurt her as Harry had.

  With a rush of panic, Blake sensed he was running out of time.

  Anger towa
rd her ex-husband simmered inside him, and Blake prayed fervently that the adage of What Goes Around Comes Around was true in Harry’s case. The guy deserved nothing but misery after what he’d put Marissa through.

  Blake reached the door, and Marissa entered the living room, her cheeks rosy from hurrying to settle Drew into his crib before the interview. Wearing tailored slacks that accented her slender hips and long legs and an emerald-green sweater that complemented her eyes, she looked like a typical suburban housewife and mother instead of the competent but aloof attorney who left the house for work each morning.

  Blake’s first instinct was to ignore the applicant at the door, pull Marissa into his arms, tell her how much he loved her and beg her to stay.

  Forever.

  Aware she wasn’t ready to risk her heart yet, he reined in his desire and opened the door.

  A neatly dressed middle-aged woman with plain but pleasant features stood on the porch. “Mr. Adams? I’m Amanda Beason, here for the interview.”

  “Come in.” Blake held the door open and Amanda stepped inside. “This is Marissa.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Adams.”

  Marissa shook her head. “I’m not—”

  “What a lovely home!” Amanda clasped her hands in obvious delight. “You can tell a happy family lives here.”

  Marissa shook her head again. “We’re not—”

  “Have a seat, Ms. Beason,” Blake offered. He wasn’t anxious to correct Amanda’s erroneous conclusions. In fact, he enjoyed thinking of Marissa as his wife and the house as theirs.

  He’d apparently misgauged Marissa’s state of mind, however. With a clearly forced smile, she said, “Blake will conduct the interview, Ms. Beason. After all, he’s the one you’ll be working for. I won’t be here after Saturday.”

  She pivoted quickly and returned to the guest room.

  “Oh, dear.” Amanda cast Blake an apologetic look. “I’m sorry if I—”

  “Not to worry,” Blake assured her, although he felt as if a lead weight had been inserted in his chest. “You’ll understand after I explain the circumstances.”

  Hoping Amanda would prove a suitable nanny, he began the story of Annie and Drew. From the determined set of Marissa’s face when she had announced her departure, Blake was going to need immediate help with the twins.

  BLAKE GAZED into the mirror of the courthouse men’s room, adjusted his tie and flicked a speck of lint from his suit jacket. In a few minutes the hearing to grant him temporary custody of the twins would begin.

  The upcoming hearing was the only topic Marissa had broached this morning, efficiently all business as he’d helped her load her belongings in her car.

  “Unless Judge Standiford throws some unexpected curve,” she’d said, “I don’t anticipate any problems. Between Debbie, Jon Langston and me, we’ve covered all the legal bases.”

  He wanted to hold her, to tell her how much she meant to him, but her body language had set up barriers he couldn’t cross. “I couldn’t have done any of this without your help.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” she replied with a bright, brittle expression that seemed to mask her real feelings.

  “You’re the best friend I have, Rissa. Always have been.” He caught her hand and squeezed it gently. “Always will be.”

  Refusing to meet his eyes, she extricated herself from his grasp and opened the driver’s door. “Agnes says she can stay until Ms. Beason reports for duty this afternoon.”

  “See you in court,” Blake said before she drove away.

  Watching her car pull out of his driveway, he’d come to a desperate conclusion. If he didn’t take drastic action, Marissa would be out of his life forever. He’d glanced at his watch: 7:30 a.m. He had just over three hours to put his plan into action.

  As he left the men’s room, Blake checked his watch again. The hearing would begin in a few minutes, and everything was ready. He drew a deep breath to calm his nerves. Not only was the future of the Smith twins on the line this morning, but Blake’s future with Marissa, as well.

  Entering the courtroom, Blake spotted Debbie Arnold, Jon Langston, Melanie Smith and Marissa seated at tables in front of the judge’s bench. He also recognized several members of the community in attendance, many of whom had been at the baby shower.

  Marissa greeted him with an impersonal nod and indicated the chair at her right. Blake’s heart sank at her coolness, until he reassured himself that her attitude was her typical, objective courtroom demeanor, the same that she’d exhibited at his first hearing.

  The clerk called the court to order, and Judge Standiford climbed to his chair behind the bench. He pointed to Marissa. “Are you ready to proceed, Counselor?”

  Marissa stood. “This is a routine request for temporary custody, Your Honor. The twins’ mother has granted that right to my client, Mr. Adams.”

  Jon Langston stood also. “If I may address the court?”

  “Go ahead,” the judge said.

  Langston approached the bench and placed a sheaf of papers in front of the judge. “My client, her family and the family of the twins’ father, who is deceased, have waived all rights to the children.”

  The judge examined the documents and scowled, and Blake braced for the worst.

  “The mother is a minor.” The judge peered over the courtroom. “Where are her parents?”

  “They’ve granted me permission to act in loco parentis,” Langston said.

  “This is highly unusual,” Standiford said.

  “All the more reason,” Marissa spoke up, “for the twins to be placed in a stable environment, Your Honor.”

  “As the babies’ advocate,” Debbie chimed in, “I completely concur with Ms. Mason.”

  “Stable environment?” The judge fixed an eagle-eyed stare on Blake. “You still cohabitating with a woman you’re not married to?”

  “That’s no longer an issue,” Marissa said quickly. “I moved out of Mr. Adams’s residence this morning, Your Honor.”

  “Then who will care for the children?” Standiford asked.

  “Mr. Adams has employed a live-in nanny,” Marissa said.

  “A female?” Disapproval etched the judge’s craggy features.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Married?”

  Marissa turned to Blake, who shook his head.

  The judge scowled. “Then we’re back to our original problem.”

  The moment Blake had been waiting for had arrived. “May I speak, Your Honor?”

  “By all means,” the judge said with blatant sarcasm. “Explain your way out of this one.”

  “I have a solution to the problem,” Blake said. “In fact, Judge, it’s one you suggested yourself.”

  The judge lifted his bushy eyebrows. “What is it?”

  Blake turned to Marissa, who was regarding him with a befuddled expression. In a voice strong enough to reverberate throughout the courtroom, he said, “Will you marry me, Marissa?”

  “What?” Shock, surprise and anger played across her face, and chaos erupted in the courtroom.

  “Order!” Judge Standiford banged his gavel. “Order in the court.”

  Blake kept his attention on Marissa, whose reaction had been far from what he’d hoped. Deathly pale, she pivoted toward the bench. “May I request a recess, Your Honor?”

  “Under the circumstances, I suppose it’s appropriate.” Looking disappointed, the judge banged his gavel. “This hearing is recessed until 2:00 p.m.”

  As the judge and other attorneys left, Marissa leaned toward Blake, her eyes flashing, pale cheeks now blazing red. “You have some nerve!” she said in a low voice between gritted teeth. “Proposing just to get custody of the twins. That’s a cheap shot.”

  Blake reeled with surprise. In his wildest dreams, he hadn’t guessed she’d believe that. “I—”

  “Save your breath. You’ll need it to convince the judge to grant custody when court reconvenes.” She grabbed her briefcase, brushed past him and headed for th
e door.

  Blake sank into his chair. Her response definitely hadn’t been what he’d hoped for. Thankful he had a contingency plan in place, he let her leave and settled down to wait.

  MARISSA STORMED into the office. She had less than two hours to deal with the humiliation Blake had caused her and to compose herself to return to the courtroom.

  Kitty looked up in alarm. “Something wrong?”

  “Men!” Marissa said with a growl. “Why did God make them, anyway? All they do is cause trouble.”

  “Maybe you should go into your office and cool down,” Kitty suggested soothingly. “I’ll bring you a nice cup of tea.”

  Marissa fought back tears of anger and regret. Just because Blake had made a total fool of her was no reason to bite her friend’s head off. “Sorry, Kitty.”

  Kitty rose from her desk and hugged her. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  Her receptionist released her, led her by the elbow to her office door, opened it and shoved Marissa gently inside.

  Disoriented, Marissa closed her eyes and opened them again, so stunned she barely heard Kitty close the door behind her. Her office was unrecognizable, practically every surface covered with vases overflowing with roses of every shade and hue and fragrant bouquets of stargazer lilies. But what caught her eye instantly were the items on her desktop.

  A conch shell.

  A sun hat woven from palmetto fronds.

  A birdhouse made of twigs.

  And star charts, carefully drawn on notebook paper.

  All replicas of the gifts Blake had given her as a teenager.

  Propped against the conch shell was an envelope with her name emblazoned on it in Blake’s bold handwriting. With trembling fingers, she removed the handwritten card.

  Dearest Marissa,

  Whether I gain custody of the twins or not, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. To cherish all the things we’ve shared in the past, to experience the love we share in the present and to look forward to eternity together. Please say you’ll marry me.

  All my love forever, Blake.