The Baby Clause: A Christmas Romance

by Tara Wylde

  Oh!” she says, obviously startled. “Sorry. I almost ran into you again. I need to stop doing that.”

  It’s showtime.

  “It’s my fault,” I say, taking a moment to admire the curve-hugging green dress she’s wearing. “And I don’t mean just this. I mean yesterday. I’m really sorry, Sara.”

  Her sapphire eyes blink like an owl’s. I’ve caught her off guard. Good.

  “Uh,” she says. “Really, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

  “Yes, I do. I was petty, and as a Marine, I should expect better from myself.”

  “It’s understandable. I mean, it was the first time we’ve seen each other since… well, you know.”

  I nod. “Still, I should have left bygones in the past and just told you how happy I was to see you. Because I was, you know.”

  That’s it, Chance. Lay it on thick.

  Her eyes are still wide. “You were?”

  “Of course. I still am, Sara. We meant a lot to each other for a long time. What happened between us that one night fifteen years ago doesn’t change everything that came before it.”

  Okay, Chance, settle down before you start believing this stuff yourself.

  She smiles. “I’m really glad to hear you say that. And I want you to know, this isn’t personal at all. It’s just business.”

  “Of course. And I want you to feel welcome here at Atlas. Whatever you need, just ask Tre and he’ll make it happen for you.”

  “That will make things a lot easier,” she says, looking relieved. “The sooner I can get done with this, the sooner I can tell Quentin that he’s chasing his tail. You’re the most honorable person I’ve ever known, Chance.”

  That catches me off guard and makes me suddenly wistful for those days. It was a tough life, sure, but at least it wasn’t overshadowed by secrets and lies.

  Shake it off, Chance. I know that Pearce is definitely not chasing his tail, but there’s no way in hell I’m ever going to let him know that.

  “That’d suit me just fine,” I say. “I’m sorry about how I acted yesterday; I just don’t like the guy.”

  Sara leans in close. “I don’t think anyone does,” she whispers. “Including me.”

  That’s good to know, but hardly surprising. After I gave myself some time to think about it last night, I realized that Sara wouldn’t have taken the job to get back at me. She’s not like that.

  “He really is a shit, isn’t he?”

  “I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me.”

  I grin. “Then let’s stop talking about him. Feel free to do what you have to do, and if anyone here has a problem with you, tell them I said to take it up with me.”

  “I’m sure it won’t come to that,” she says with a smile of her own.

  I snap my fingers. “Hey, are you free tonight? I was thinking maybe we could catch up over dinner.”

  “Sure,” she says, obviously surprised. “I’d really like that.”

  “Great,” I say. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Where should we meet?”

  “Give me an address and I’ll have my driver come and pick you up.”

  She taps her phone a few times and I hear a ding. The screen of my mobile shows her contact info.

  “You gave me your cell number yesterday,” she says sheepishly.

  “And I’m glad I did. Get in touch anytime.”

  “Okay,” she says, still smiling

  “Awesome,” I say. Why do I feel like a teenager who finally got his crush to go out with him?

  “See you tonight.” She turns and walks down the hall, then stops and turns back to me with a little wave.

  I wave back, grinning like an idiot.

  Smarten up, Marine! This isn’t high school!

  She disappears around the corner, leaving me to stand there and wonder what the hell I’m getting into.

  65

  17. SARA

  “He’s so hot.”

  “Excuse me?” I say, looking up from my yellow notepad.

  “Sorry,” Karen says, blushing. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  I chuckle. “It’s okay. You’re the only one who’s called Chance ‘hot’ so far.” I riffle through my notes. “I’ve got ‘war hero,’ ‘best boss ever,’ ‘honorable,’ ‘generous.’ Now I can add ‘hot’ to the list. What I don’t have is anyone with anything negative to say about him.”

  Her eyes widen. “Of course not,” she says. “We all love him. I can’t imagine working anywhere else. He and Tre just make everyone feel so important, like we’re all a key part of the company. Everyone from the field operatives all the way down to admins like me.”

  It all seems too good to be true, but am I really surprised? Sure, Chance was a rough-edged kid, but he had a heart like no one else I’ve ever known. He was just as likely to feed a stray dog as he was to punch out a kid who picked on me. I’ve never known anyone more loyal, and I can only imagine the Marines helped him focus that trait, too.

  “So you really knew him when he was young?” she asks. It makes me wonder briefly if she can read minds like Kelsey.

  “Yeah,” I say. “We were… friends for a long time.”

  She smiles dreamily. “I bet every girl in school wanted him.”

  I smile but say nothing. There were a few others who saw what was inside, but he only had eyes for me.

  And I had to let him go.

  “When did you start working here?” I ask.

  “Right around the time Mr. Sullivan hired Chance.”

  “So you knew Sully?”

  She nods. “He was my first boss.”

  “And you were in the front row as the company went into its expansion phase.”

  “Uh-huh. What a time that was. It seemed like every few weeks, I was getting another raise. They hired tons of people when Tre took over as vice president. And now here we are today.”

  She leans close. “Do you think the Sullivans are going to sell?” she whispers.

  “I can’t say.”

  “I hope not,” she says. “Atlas is like my family. I don’t want to work anywhere else.”

  “Where did the capital come from for the expansion?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “That all happened when Sully was the sole proprietor,” she says. “Before we issued any shares. I assume he’d been saving for it. I never really thought about it.”

  Hmm. I don’t know if that rings an alarm bell, exactly, but it seems a little unusual.

  “Did he maybe have an outside investor?”

  “It’s possible, but if it was anyone other than his family, they didn’t get any stock for it.”

  I file it away for later.

  “So you’re happy with your compensation?”

  “Oh, very,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “Salary plus bonuses. Great pension, matching contributions for college funds. Like I said, it’s a great place to work.”

  And Quentin Pearce wants it. I hate to think this, but if he succeeds in buying Atlas, I can’t imagine him keeping the perks. Or the wages. Maybe not even the people. The more I learn about Atlas, the more I feel like some sort of hatchet woman.

  Come on, Sara, you had to have known that would be part of it. People don’t hire someone for $150,000 for a month’s work just to have them interview people.

  “All right,” I say with a smile I don’t feel. “Thanks very much for your time, Karen.”

  She stands up and takes my offered hand.

  “It’s my pleasure,” she says. “I really hope the sale doesn’t go through. Sorry, that’s probably not what you want to hear.”

  “You’re certainly not the only one,” I say, sidestepping the comment. “It sounds like Atlas is a wonderful company to work for.”

  “It sure is,” she says. “Maybe if the sale falls through, you could come work for us!”

  I smile as she leaves the office. I seriously doubt they’d have me, I don’t say.

  66

/>   18. CHANCE

  “What kind of dumbass plan is that?”

  “Whaddaya mean?” I say. “It’s brilliant.”

  Tre shakes his head. “Why the hell would you want to string along the one girl who actually meant something to you?”

  He’s obviously not getting this.

  “I don’t buy this ‘coincidence’ line they’re spinning,” I say. “Pearce hired Sara for a reason, I know it. If I get closer to her, I might be able to uncover it.”

  “What reason? What benefit would there be?”

  “He wanted someone who knows me, so it would be easier to dig up dirt on me.”

  “So he hires your high school girlfriend from before you joined the Marines?” he says, rolling his eyes. “Are you listening to the words that are coming out of your mouth? If he was trying to get someone to get close to you, wouldn’t he have found one of your most recent conquests instead of scouring your old yearbooks? Or found a buddy you served with in Iraq or something?”

  I hate that he’s smarter than me. It always makes me second-guess myself. The fact that he’s usually right is beside the point.

  “All right, all right,” I say. “I’ll give you that. But I can’t shake this hunch that there’s something going on there.”

  “Look, I get it,” he says. “And I know trusting your hunches saved a lot of lives in Iraq. But this situation is different; you just can’t see it.”

  What’s he talking about? This is strategic thinking, my specialty. He’s the businessman, I’m the logistics guy.

  “How is it different?” I ask. “And what can’t I see?”

  “It’s different because it’s Sara,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “She shows up in your life out of the blue at a time when you’re under huge stress. The only girl you ever cared about. You can’t think strategically in that situation.”

  “You’re nuts,” I say. “Sara’s not the only girl I ever cared about.”

  “Name another one,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I’ve had a dozen women –”

  “I know. Name one who had an impact on you like Sara.”

  Dammit, he’s got me again.

  “I’m not some lost kid anymore,” I say. “I can handle this. Besides, if I had another choice, don’t you think I’d take it? But we both know that there’s a possibility, however slim, that she’ll find out the truth about the expansion capital.”

  That gets him. He frowns and scratches his chin thoughtfully.

  “Go on,” he says.

  “If I can get Sara into bed, I should be able to steer her away from the secret, so that she tells Pearce the rumors are bullshit and Atlas is all aboveboard. And if worse comes to worst and she stumbles across the truth somehow, I can threaten to tell Pearce she’s been sleeping with the enemy. Knowing him, he’d go scorched earth on her and ruin her career.”

  Tre stares at me for a very long time before speaking.

  “That’s cold, man,” he says finally.

  “It’s strategic thinking for a dangerous situation,” I say. “There’s a difference, especially in combat. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

  “Even if that sacrifice is Sara?”

  I made sacrifices for Sara for a long time, and she threw them out the window. If Tre thinks I’m not going to put her in the line of fire, he’s dreaming.

  One of you is dreaming, a part of my brain says. But are you sure it’s Tre and not you?

  “There’s something else you’re not factoring into this,” he says. “Even if Pearce accepts that we’re clean, you still have to come up with a reason for the Sullivans not to sell to him.”

  “I’m working on that,” I say.

  “Work harder. We have less than a month.”

  “I told you, I’m strategic. Wheels within wheels, and all that crap. If everything works out the way I’m planning, we won’t have to worry about Pearce at all.”

  Of course, if it doesn’t work out, my world is going to come crashing down around me, and I may very well ruin the life of the only girl I ever loved.

  And this loonngg month is just getting started.

  67

  19. SARA

  “Does this dress make me look like a slut?”

  Grace rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time since she came over.

  “That’s Mom talking through you,” she says. “It looks great.”

  That’s what I was thinking, but I wanted a second opinion. The woman looking back at me in the mirror has her shit together. The neckline shows off my cleavage, the waist actually fits the way it’s supposed to, the skirt part hugs my legs, but not too tightly.

  “Are you sure?” I ask one last time.

  “It’s Chance Talbot,” she huffs. “It’s not like you’re going out with David Beckham or something.”

  “You haven’t seen him,” I say as I work my diamond studs into my earlobes. “He’s not the kid he was when you knew him. Not by a long shot.”

  “Oh yeah? Take some pics with your phone tonight. I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “Sure, Judge Gracie, I’ll wait on the opinion of the gal who’s had even fewer boyfriends than I have.”

  She smacks my butt as I pass where she sits on my bed.

  “Don’t be mean,” she says with a grin. “I have issues.”

  I hand her the box of Kleenex from my night table.

  “Got an issue, here’s a tissue.”

  “Just go on your fucking date,” she giggles. “And tell him I say hi. I really do want to see him again. And Tre, too.”

  “Oh, honey,” I say, grabbing my purse. “You definitely want to see Tre these days.”

  She sighs. “He was hot enough back then.”

  “He’s even hotter now.”

  “Go!” she says. “Leave me alone so I can pout.”

  “I’m out,” I say as I open the apartment door. “Wish me luck.”

  She blows me a kiss. “Knock him dead, sis.”

  The car is a stretch limo, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was Chance standing on the sidewalk, holding the door for me with the setting sun lighting him from behind.

  He’s in a trendy sharkskin suit that matches the gray of his eyes and highlights his physique. No tie, of course. He told me once that a tie is like an invitation for an attacker to strangle you. It’s one of the things you learn when you grow up on the streets.

  “I didn’t expect you, too,” I say as he takes my hand and ushers me into the back. His palm feels warm and good in mine.

  “I figured this would give us more time together,” he says. “It’s been a long time – we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  “That we do.”

  He gives me an appreciative once-over, setting off a flock of butterflies in my belly. No other man has ever been able to do that to me.

  “You look amazing,” he says.

  “Thank you,” I manage to answer.

  He waves a hand at the bar, well-stocked with top shelf booze.

  “Drink?”

  “I’d love a vodka on ice,” I say. “It’s been a long day.” And I’ve got a sudden heat that I need to cool down.

  “I’ll bet,” he says, handing me my drink and pouring himself a neat scotch.

  “Any trouble in your interviews today?” he asks.

  “Just the opposite. Everyone was incredibly cooperative. They all love you, by the way.”

  He smiles shyly and shrugs.

  “The best people I know work at Atlas,” he says. “It’s an honor to know they feel the same about me.”

  “You sound like a Marine,” I say.

  “Oorah,” he grins.

  “I’m so glad you followed your dreams. The Marines didn’t know what they were getting when you signed up.”

  He chuckles. “That’s for sure. I walked into basic training like I owned the place. Took the drill sergeant all of ten minutes behind the barracks to let me know that no, in fa
ct, I did not own the place, if you get what I mean.”

  “At least you were always a quick study,” I say with a wince.

  “Once I adjusted my attitude, I realized that these guys and gals were the family I’d always been looking for. Combat just drove that home to me even more. The man at your six is closer to you than a brother.”

  It finally sinks in with me that Chance has spent a lot of time in the dark corners of the world since he left. I’ve had plenty of my own shit to deal with in my life, but none of it involved bullets and bombs flying in my direction.

  “I can’t imagine what that was like,” I say.

  “I hope you never have to,” he says with a faraway look. “I made it back in one piece after three tours, but a lot of my friends weren’t so lucky. Some of them had physical wounds; all of them had emotional ones. Quite a few of them work for me now.”

  “I know,” I smile. “I met some. They think you’re a hero.”

  He shrugs. “It’s easy to look like a hero when you’re signing somebody’s paycheck.”

  I think of Quentin Pearce and cringe inwardly.

  “You’re being modest,” I say. “They told me you saved a lot of lives overseas.”

  “A lot of guys did,” he says, glancing at his watch. “I’ve got us a table at the Purple Room in twenty minutes. Sound good?”

  I let him change the subject; he never was one to take praise very well. It was pretty rare that he got any growing up.

  “This is crazy,” I say.

  He looks at me, startled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the last time we were together, you could barely afford a burger at McDonald’s. Now we’re on our way to the most expensive restaurant in Chicago. I’d say you’ve come a long way, but that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.”

  He finishes his scotch.

  “I try not to think about that,” he says. “Money’s just a perk of the job, really. I’d be just as happy eating burgers at the Bad Apple every day, but clients kind of expect high-end treatment. It’s the work that’s important.”

  “So I’ve heard. A lot of people have better lives because of Atlas.”