Happy New Year--Baby!

by Marie Ferrarella

  “Okay, have it your way,” she said.

  She reminded him of a pixie, a wicked pixie, with her eyes sparkling and her mouth so damn tempting it was burning away his resolve.

  “So, which am I?” he finally asked. “Cute, good-looking or handsome?”

  Her mouth was now just inches away from his. He realized it was because he’d inclined his head, meeting her halfway.

  And then he met her all the way as his mouth took hers. He kissed her hard and quickly, knowing that to do anything more would be challenging his own resolve. And giving Winston a show he hadn’t bargained for.

  Dazed, Nicole took a deep breath as his lips left hers. Singed—she was sure they were singed. She tested them before speaking. “All of the above.”

  “What?”

  “The answer to your question,” she breathed. “You’re all of the above.”

  He laughed and kissed her quickly again, then released her. A man could test himself only so much. “You would have made a good lawyer.”

  Too soon, she thought sadly. It was too soon. Her body needed a little longer to recuperate, but once it had, she wasn’t going to let him talk his way out of what she knew they both wanted.

  Each other.

  Right now, she told herself, she could do with a cup of coffee. Nicole walked into the kitchen. “What I want to be right now is a good mother.” And to have my body stop humming.

  He followed her. “You will be.” There was nothing he’d seen to doubt that she was a capable mother already. “You are.”

  Nicole laughed shortly as she rinsed out the coffeepot. “I don’t know about that. I feel as if I’m flying by the seat of my pants.”

  Dennis took the used filter out of the coffeemaker and threw it out for her. “I hear all good parents feel that way.”

  It was incredible how in tune they were to one another, she mused, watching Dennis take out the coffee can from the top shelf in the refrigerator. Whether it was taking care of the twins or preparing coffee, they worked so well together.

  “Really?”

  “Really.” But he shouldn’t be the one giving her assurances. He was just a bachelor. “If you feel uncertain, why don’t you call your sister?”

  Nicole didn’t see where that would do much good. Taking the can from him, she measured out enough to make five cups. “She’s only been a mother a month longer than I have.”

  That was exactly his point. It was all still fresh for Marlene as well. “Then she’s a month ahead of you in her uncertainties.”

  He was right. As usual. She replaced the coffee can and shut the refrigerator. “Brilliant deduction, counselor. Maybe I will call her.”

  A small white truck with a blue-and-red insignia drove by, heading out of the complex. The mail had arrived. “Where’s your mail key?” he asked. “I just saw the truck go by.”

  She took it off the hook on the rack beside the calendar. “What service. I think I need a pedicure later.”

  He grinned as he took the key from her. Dennis looked at her legs. For a short woman, she appeared to be all legs. As far as he was concerned, that was a very good thing.

  Dennis forced himself to look at her face. “I’ll see what I can do about it.”

  Nicole sighed as he went out the door, then looked up toward the ceiling. “I don’t know what I’ve finally done right, God, but thank you.”

  Dennis squared his shoulders as he closed the door behind him.

  The section of mailboxes designated to their cluster of apartments was located just beyond the carport. As he began to insert the key into her mailbox, he saw that there was mail in his own. A piece of an envelope was sticking out on the side, as if it were too crowded for it to remain within the metal confines.

  Who could be sending him mail? After all, he really didn’t live here. Without meaning to, he glanced toward Nicole’s apartment. At least, not for long, anyway.

  When he opened the door to his mailbox, a profusion of letters, flyers and catalogs came bursting out, the result of weeks of accumulation. Dennis scanned everything quickly. Every last item was addressed to “Occupant” or was a piece of junk mail with his name affixed to it. Talk about waste. Dennis tossed the pile into the receptacle beside the mailboxes.

  Opening Nicole’s mailbox, he saw several envelopes that looked like bills. Stuffed behind them were a few flyers aimed at new mothers.

  Word got around fast, he mused, locking the mailbox again.

  “Anything?” Nicole called to him as he walked back into the apartment.

  Instead of a cup of coffee, she was holding one of the twins in her arms. Erika. He could tell by the baby’s bald head. Her brother Ethan had been born with a full head of hair. The boy had enough hair for both of them. Dennis sincerely hoped for Erika’s sake her hair would grow in quickly, although he had to admit that at this stage, he thought she looked rather cute.

  “Just the usual.” He placed the stack on the kitchen table. He pointed to the top envelope. “Someone wants to sell you an encyclopedia for the kids.”

  “First they have to learn how to read,” she murmured, pushing one envelope after another aside to look at them. Nothing but bills. “And sleep for more than five minutes at a time.”

  Erika whimpered and Nicole instinctively began to rock without even thinking about it.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about those anymore, she thought. Dreading bills was a thing of the past. She’d swallowed her pride and spoken to Marlene about the trust fund as soon as she had returned from the hospital. Overjoyed that Nicole had finally “come to her senses,” Marlene quickly arranged for their lawyer to begin the paperwork that would allow Nicole earlier access to her own money.

  Until that came about, Marlene was extending a loan to help tide her over. Marlene had wanted to give the money to her, but Nicole had remained steadfast on that point. She wasn’t taking charity, even from her sister.

  “It’s not charity, you twit,” Marlene had insisted heatedly. “It would have been your money if you hadn’t argued with Father every time either of you opened your mouths.”

  “But I did argue,” Nicole had reminded her, “and it was worth every penny.” She fixed her sister with a stubborn look that Marlene recognized from their childhood. “Now, we do it my way, or we don’t do it at at all.”

  Marlene had shaken her head. “You’re cutting off your nose to spite your face, Nic.”

  Nicole had raised her chin. “Maybe, but it’s my nose.”

  Marlene surrendered. “Yes, it is. I’ll call Monty right away and have him start the paperwork.” The trust fund was worded so that Nicole would get the money when she turned thirty. It had been James Bailey’s fervent hope that by then, his son-in-law would have been a thing of the past, one way or another, “Every clause has a way around it.”

  And if anyone could find it, Marlene could, Nicole had thought. Tenacity and stubbornness were two traits they shared, in their own fashion.

  Nicole stopped pushing envelopes around on the table and frowned as she read the return address on the one beneath her fingertips.

  Dennis looked down, reading the words on the envelope even though it was upside down. It hadn’t attracted his attention when he had gone through her mail. Had he missed something?

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

  Nicole shifted the baby against her and tore open the envelope. It was from a local bank. A bank she knew she had no dealings with. As far as she knew, Craig had never had an account there. He hardly ever hung on to money long enough to open an account. When he did, it was soon closed again for lack of funds.

  Inside the envelope was an annual invoice for a safety deposit box. She shrugged and slipped all the bills into a letter organizer she had on the wall. She knew for a fact that Craig hadn’t had a will or an insurance policy, so what did he want with a safety deposit box? She had absolutely no idea and right now, she didn’t care. Craig was in her past. Dennis was
in her present and with all her heart, she hoped he was in her future.

  “Anything interesting?” Dennis pressed. Maybe he had overlooked something important.

  “Just another bill Craig ran up,” she answered carelessly.

  The coffeemaker finished brewing. She could almost taste the coffee and right about now, she needed another shot of caffeine badly.

  “Would you mind holding the baby?” she asked. “I want to have a cup of—”

  He had just taken the baby from her when the doorbell rang. Nicole noticed Dennis tense. It was a small, almost imperceptible movement, but she could have sworn his jaw hardened. Did he think Standish was back? She hadn’t heard anything from the man and had assumed that he had decided to leave her alone. Now she wondered if she was being foolishly optimistic.

  As she went to answer the door, Dennis stepped in front of her, handing the baby back to her.

  “I’ll get the door.”

  “Chauffeur, nanny, handyman, butler.” She took Erika into her arms. “There seems to be no end to your talents.”

  “That’s me, a regular Renaissance man,” Dennis quipped.

  His beeper remained silent. Winston would have signaled him if Standish or anyone unfamiliar was approaching.

  Unless something had happened to Winston.

  Dennis looked cautiously through the peephole. It wasn’t Standish or anyone associated with the Syndicate.

  Dennis let out a breath quietly as he opened the door. Marlene was standing there, holding her son in her arms. A short, somber looking older woman was beside her.

  Marlene had already met Dennis the first day Nicole was home from the hospital. “Hi.” She smiled at him, then saw her sister behind him. “How are you doing, Nicole?” she asked cheerfully.

  Nicole kissed her sister, delighted by the visit. “Marlene, what are you doing here?” Marlene usually called ahead if she was coming.

  “Impulse,” Marlene confessed. “I thought it was about time Robby met his cousins.” She nodded at the woman behind her as she walked into the apartment. “And I would have had to tie Sally up to keep her from coming with me.”

  “I’m too fast for her.” Sally quickly embraced Nicole, then backed away to give Dennis a very thorough once-over. Dennis had endured lesser scrutiny when he had undergone a series of interviews to join the Department. The woman’s eyes were fathomless. “And this is?”

  Nicole moved next to Dennis. “Dennis Lincoln,” she answered.

  Sally looked very unimpressed. “Doesn’t he have a tongue?”

  He supposed this was what the poets had meant by the term Tartar.

  “Yes,” Dennis answered, “but I seem to have swallowed it under scrutiny.”

  If it was meant to get a smile from her, it didn’t succeed. Sally took a few steps around him. “You a racer?”

  “No.” Dennis struggled to maintain a straight face.

  “He’s a tax lawyer, Sally.” Nicole led the way into the living room. “And I’ll thank you to stop interrogating the man.”

  “Somebody has to look after you.”

  Nicole turned to look at Dennis behind her. “Somebody is.”

  Sally’s small, deep-set black eyes shifted from the woman she had raised from an infant back to Dennis, her expression never changing.

  “So, it’s like that, is it?”

  Nicole had put up with enough embarrassment. Sally didn’t seem to know when to quit. “Sally, you keep this up and I’m going to have you wait in the car,” Marlene warned.

  Dennis crossed his arms before him, more amused than anything. “She’s just looking out for Nicole.”

  “You trying to butter me up?’

  Dennis shook his head. “I’m just trying to get through this interview with my skin intact.”

  “Interview?” Sally repeated, then she smiled slowly. Her wrinkled face became almost pretty. “Maybe it is at that.”

  Nicole flushed. “Sally, why don’t you come and see the babies?”

  Not waiting for a response, she took the woman’s hand and all but dragged her to the nursery.

  “That’s why I came.” Sally gave Dennis one last sharp, backward glance, showing she wasn’t about to accept him easily. He and Marlene followed the others into the nursery.

  Marlene looked at Nicole apologetically. “I’m sorry, Nic, I really couldn’t keep her away.” Turning toward the crib where the other baby lay, Marlene looked down at the infant in her own arms. “See, Robby, that’s your cousin Ethan.” She shifted her son so that he had a clear view of the other twin. “And the one squirming in your Aunt Nicole’s arms is Erika.”

  Moving the blanket aside, Sally looked at the little girl. “She looks like quite a handful.”

  “She is,” Nicole admitted.

  Sally smiled knowingly. “Then she’s a Bailey all right.”

  Dennis hung back in the small hallway, feeling as if he were intruding.

  Chapter 12

  Less than an hour after Dennis brought Nicole home from her two-week exam at the obstetrician, there was a light knock on the door. “Expecting anyone?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve reserved this afternoon for cleaning.” Nicole gestured around the apartment. “It could definitely use it.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Dennis went to answer the door. “I can still see out the windows.”

  “Wise guy,” she shot back.

  Dennis looked through the peephole, then stepped back to open the door. The last person in the world he would have expected to be standing there was Winston.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded, lowering his voice.

  “Who is it, Dennis?” Nicole called. Before Dennis had an opportunity to frame an answer, she came up behind him.

  The affable man on her doorstep looked like a misshapen teddy bear. His casual clothes were a little too tight for his plump body. He resembled what she would have guessed to be his favorite food staple, a doughnut.

  Nicole had no idea who he was. “Hello? Can I help you?”

  Winston felt uneasy. He had hoped to take Dennis aside before she came out. This needed to be said to his partner face-to-face, not over the phone.

  “I’m here to see him.” For emphasis, he pointed toward his partner. “Dennis.”

  The request surprised her, as did the fact that the man looked somewhat ill at ease. Nicole smiled a greeting and took a step back into her apartment, allowing him the additional space he needed to enter.

  “Won’t you come in?” She glanced at Dennis. He saw the curiosity in her eyes. “How did you know Dennis was here?”

  “Um, he wasn’t at his own apartment and he mentioned that, um, that is, you…”

  Winston and Nicole together. That was the last thing he wanted, Dennis thought.

  Dennis took his arm. “Winston won’t be staying. He’s just here to pick up something I have for him in my apartment.” He began to hustle the other man out when Nicole laid a hand on his arm.

  “Winston,” she repeated, looking at him. “Then you’re his law partner.”

  He certainly didn’t look like their family lawyer, Monty. Dennis’s partner looked as if he would have been more at home in a bowling alley than a courtroom, but she supposed that was unfair. He probably had a brilliant legal mind.

  “Partner?” Winston echoed, looking at Dennis for help.

  “Yes,” Nicole said. Why did the man look as if he had just swallowed a red-hot poker? “From the law firm.”

  Had she gotten the relationship confused? She looked at Dennis. She could have sworn he had told her that someone named Winston, a junior partner at the law firm, was handling his cases for him.

  “Oh, yes. Yes I am.” The words came out slowly, as if it were all news to him. Nicole looked dubiously at Dennis, but said nothing.

  He had to get Winston out of here. “I’ll only be a few minutes,” Dennis promised her.

  One hand on Winston’s arm, Dennis ushered the man out of Nicole’s apartment and
into his own as quickly as he could.

  “Are you crazy?” he hissed, closing the door behind them. He turned to face Winston. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

  “Your beeper’s not working.”

  Dennis looked at the device and tapped it with his finger. “Great,” he muttered.

  He had to get this over quickly, Winston thought. The equipment had to be back by four. Sherwood had another surveillance lined up.

  “Okay, two things.” Winston dug into his back pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. “First, I wanted to give you this.”

  “‘This?’” Dennis repeated as he took the paper from him. “What is ‘this?’”

  Winston tapped the paper. “Laura Bailey’s address and telephone number.” Dennis looked at him, surprised and pleased. “It wasn’t easy. The lady covered her trail pretty well.” Winston laughed shortly. “But then, I guess I could, too, if my ex had paid me off to do it.”

  From the bits and pieces he’d managed to get out of Nicole, Dennis had a feeling that there was more to Laura Bailey’s story than was generally known. “A hundred thousand’s not that much money.”

  “Maybe not for some people,” Winston acknowledged. “But it was twenty years ago. And some people are frugal. She probably made it last.” He let the subject drift to a close as he shrugged his broad shoulders.

  “Thanks,” Dennis said with feeling. He pocketed the information until he could do something about it. Since the day in her nursery when he had found her on the floor, he couldn’t get Nicole’s words out of his mind. Nicole needed to be reunited with her mother. “I really appreciate this, Winston.”

  Winston looked down at his shoes. “Yeah, well, you’ve done some stuff for me. One hand washes the other and all that trite stuff.”

  Something was wrong. Winston looked uncomfortable. Dennis knew the man wouldn’t have knocked on Nicole’s door if it was just a matter of giving him the information. Winston would have found a way to slip it to him at some other time. He paused, waiting, but Winston said nothing.

  “What’s the other thing?” Dennis pressed.