by C. C. Koen
“Rick, there you are. I was just in your office and your secretary said she didn’t expect you for hours.”
Because Mrs. Collins knew he didn’t want to see Julia, now or ever. As she drew closer, he scanned the enormous lobby, hoping for an easy escape. Even Sam ducked his head, concentrating on the video screens lining his desk, a grimace pinching his mouth. Julia Kensington got a fight-or-flight effect out of most people, since she had a bad habit of treating everybody as if they were beneath her, regardless of income level. With nowhere to go, he locked his feet in place, preparing for her barrage. “Was there something you needed?”
A designer white silk pantsuit added to her look-but-don’t-touch persona as she sashayed, heels clicking on the marble floor. Her smile widened, and she tucked her arm through his, clamping her claws onto his wrist. “Yes, you. I want you to take me to dinner.” She smoothed a hand down his lapel and repositioned the handkerchief in his breast pocket even though it didn’t need it. Too close for comfort, she settled her hand on his shoulder, smothering her chest against his. “I’m tired of waiting for you, Rick. If you won’t come to me, I’ll have to chase you.” Julia’s rapid fluttering eyelashes were not at all appealing to him.
As he stepped away from her, something plowed into him from behind and wrapped around his thighs, squeezing hard. When he looked over his shoulder, Cece beamed up at him, not saying a word, unlike her normal shouted greeting. “Where’s your mom?” Again, no speaking; instead she pointed behind her to the other side of the lobby. The moment he caught sight of Maggie, his chest tightened as well as other parts of his anatomy.
Engrossed in a conversation with a woman and little girl who wore identical navy blue and white striped sailor dresses and berets, Maggie glanced at him and just as quickly refocused on the matching brunettes, a mother and daughter who took stylish to an extreme.
Ducking down to Cece’s height, he yanked her up from under her arms and placed her on the counter. “How are you, sweet pea?”
Cece lifted her hand, pressed two fingers together and pointed to the left, followed by sticking her pinky up. Tongue bit between her teeth, she scrunched her brows and tucked her thumb under three fingers. Then switched the arrangement to cupping her palm closed, thumb extended, and then crooked her forefinger up.
From over the counter, Sam relayed, “She said, ‘Hi, Max.’”
Shocked by what he’d seen and Sam verified, Rick addressed the little wonder. “Were you signing?”
Her answer came as clapping. Cece threw both arms around Rick’s neck and squeezed tight. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he nestled her against his chest in a tender embrace. Intense pride engulfed him. Unable to resist, he told her exactly that. A faint peck on his cheek lodged a swollen lump in his throat. As he took a step back, Cece pointed across the lobby again and continued to sign. He looked across the counter for assistance.
“Robin,” Sam announced.
Rick followed Cece’s arm, pointing to the girl. Two plus two put together, he asked, “Is that your friend?”
Again, rapid head bobbing and a toothy Cece grin.
Adding it all up, he prompted, “Did she teach you that?”
More clapping and Cece bouncing up and down on the counter.
“Show me how to say, ‘Hi, Robin.’” Cece grabbed Rick’s arm and lifted one finger after another, repositioning them in sequence and demonstrating the greeting. Once again, pride and something else he resisted shouting out loud hit him in the middle of his chest. After practicing a few times, Cece confirmed with a pat on his shoulder that he’d performed it accurately. Ready to test out his new skills, he signed the salutation toward the dark-haired cutie with pigtails braided just like Cece’s and received a “hi” from Robin in return.
Nails scraping up the back of his neck and through his hair had him spinning around. “Rick . . .” Julia tugged on his lapel and walked backward, whining, “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
Rick remained glued at Cece’s legs. Unwilling to take no for an answer, Julia stomped toward him. Done with her antics, he raised his hand, bringing her to a stuttering halt. “I’ve been out all day. I have calls to return and reports to finish.”
Her lower lip extended into an over-exaggerated pout. If Julia knew it caused wrinkles around her mouth, he doubted she’d ever repeat the unflattering expression. Maybe he’d tell her and she’d run off in embarrassment right to her plastic surgeon. And with her bloated arrogance, she probably kept him on speed dial.
“You have to eat. I’ll call Putriccios to deliver something, and we can dine in your office.”
“I had a late lunch a half hour ago.”
Determined to be the center of attention, Julia slid in between him and Cece. Julia brushed her hands through her blond locks, and she reshaped the strands, shifting them across each shoulder into makeshift pigtails.
Cece’s fingers formed into rabbit ears and bobbed up and down above Julia’s head, her other hand covering her snickers.
Swallowing the gut-wrenching laughter he wanted to let rip, he twisted toward the counter and coughed into his fist. Sam didn’t have that problem; his booming howls echoed off the windows and thirty-foot ceilings.
“Time to go, sweetie.” The sound of Maggie’s jubilant voice snapped Rick’s lax muscles into a constricted mass. Before he took on the full force of Maggie, he drew in several deep breaths, and on the edge of his toes, inched around toward her. As he did, he caught sight of Sam wiggling his bushy eyebrows. No longer in a joking mood, his lips tightened as he confronted the swarm of females, each possessing a stinger that could strike without warning.
Regardless of the angle, Maggie’s natural beauty shone through, highlighted by her alabaster skin and the freckles sprinkled across her temple, the bridge of her nose, the crest of her cheeks, and the arch of her chin. From the instant they met, he ticked her off. This time wasn’t any different. She darted a few glances between Julia and him, then scooped Cece into her arms and scurried past them. “Wait.” He put an arm out to block her, but she stormed around it. “Please, Maggie, don’t go.”
Her pace slowed and came to a gradual stop near the elevators. She glanced over her shoulder and nodded. He couldn’t move or stop staring at her. Snug jeans hugged her hourglass hips. Her mint-colored T-shirt brightened the green in her eyes, beckoning him to come closer. The sun spotlighted Cece’s orange-red hair, which appeared in varying shades within Maggie’s auburn strands.
“Dinner will be here in half an hour.” Julia popped up in front of him, blocking his view.
“Enjoy it on your way home.” Intent on getting to Maggie and Cece before they ran away, he grabbed his briefcase and sidestepped around Julia. A force he couldn’t understand propelled him to the dynamic duo. His stride strengthened and his heart lightened, floating higher with each step as the distance between them lessened. A mere foot away, Julia shouldered past him and stood in his path. Maggie and Cece partitioned behind her.
“Don’t disappoint me like that, Rick. You know your grandfather wouldn’t be pleased.” A reminder of another overbearing control freak didn’t help her case. Julia’s gradual smirk and all-knowing dig sparked a fire in his gut, renewing his determination. He opened his mouth, about to tell her where to go when her violent screeching knocked him back several steps. Julia had run her hands through her hair again, except this time, wads of gum were clumped in fistfuls of strands on each side.
Cece’s snickers rolled out of her. Maggie’s mouth fell open when she examined Julia’s hair and pinched shut when she aimed a pierced scolding at her daughter. Red blotches appeared along Maggie’s neck and across her arms. Instead of ducking tail and running, she apologized for Cece’s behavior.
Julia pointed her finger at Cece’s nose and shouted, “You’re an awful, despicable, evil brat.”
The ringing in his ears and a clenched jaw kept him from going off on her right away. It didn’t matter; Maggie beat him to it.
“Don’t you dare sp
eak to my daughter or anyone like that. I don’t care who you are. You don’t treat people that way. You ever hear karma’s a bitch? I wouldn’t push your luck. Never know what will come swinging your way.”
“Is that a threat? I saw the way you looked at Rick. You think you found a pot at the end of the rainbow, don’t you? Well, he’s taken. You and your little hellion need to get lost. Find some other Neverland. Your dreams aren’t coming true here.”
“Enough.” He grabbed Julia’s arm and tugged her out the door. A row of cabs made for an easier exit. “Get in.” He yanked the door open and waved her toward the seat. The prima donna hissed at him but did as he instructed. “This is your only warning. Stay away from them.” He gave the driver her address and ignored her crocodile tears as she begged him to come with her.
A lone black briefcase remained in the place he left it moments ago. No Maggie or Cece. Whatever spark he felt before dashed into his vacant gut, and his hollow heart followed suit. He closed his eyes and rubbed his palms into them. Dammit. He swept the case off the floor and shuffled into the elevator. In the decade-plus he’d worked in this building, not once had he been alone on the ride to the twentieth floor. For some reason there wasn’t another person or any stops. Go figure. Whether the claustrophobic walls in the cube closed in on him or the recent events were responsible for sucking the life out of him, either way, he never felt so lost or alone.
Numb, he trudged past Mrs. Collins’s desk and out of the corner of his eye noticed her silent and perceptive examination. Locked inside his office, he dropped the briefcase on his desk and looked outside. The five o’clock mad dash produced streams of suits like marching ants rushing into mounds of cabs. Bumper-to-bumper traffic, horns honking in urgency all disappeared in a blur. He pressed his temple against the glass and pounded his fist against it. Countless vibrations pulsed through him, yet that wasn’t what registered.
A miserable reflection stared back at him.
Beaten, hunched shoulders weakened his stance.
His confidence vaporized in bits and pieces with each heated breath until a meaningless shell remained in its place.
A fragment of the man he once knew.
THE GORILLA PLAYSET KAT CIRCLED in a sales flyer caught Cece’s eye. Not wanting to spend that much on a swing set, Maggie showed Cece several others that were much less expensive. However, two against one didn’t fare well in their household, making Maggie the odd girl out and losing to the strong-willed pair. Kat kicking in fifty percent of the cost reduced her anxiety about spending close to a thousand dollars on a mega-sized toy. During the entire drive to pick it up, Maggie justified the decision, telling herself that after taking Cece away from the only home she’d known, the least Maggie could do was get her daughter something that would provide a lot of joy. Besides, the playset Kat picked out really was awesome. Over nine different apparatus, including a cedar fort with a canopy, a rock wall, slide, swings, ladder, sandpit, trapeze with o-rings, steering wheel, and a telescope. Enough to keep an active little girl busy for quite some time.
After breakfast, Maggie and Cece went shopping. Seated in the kiddie cart that resembled a race car, Cece might have been enjoying the carefree view of the warehouse-style home improvement store, but winding up and down one enormous aisle after another just made Maggie anxious to get what she needed and hightail it out of there. Steering the cart around an enormous wood display, she swung to the left and rammed right into a buggy coming down the other aisle.
“Max,” Cece yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat. “Mama gettin’ me a swing.” Caught in his hazel eyes, Maggie didn’t respond. It wouldn’t have mattered; she had no idea what she wanted to say. It had been a week since the lobby scene. She’d avoided him by getting off the elevator a floor below and climbing a back stairwell to bypass his office. For several days she got away with the diversion by telling Cece they were hiding from a big, bad dragon just like in the fairy tales she read to her before bed. By Friday though, her all too inquisitive daughter wasn’t buying the tall tale anymore and wanted to take their regular route. Cece said “Max missed her” since he hadn’t seen her for so long.
“Funny running into you guys.” Matt threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side.
“See if I bring you any more Russian Torte or any other goodies,” she huffed under her breath, ramming her elbow into his ribs. He knew damned well she would be here. Yesterday when he asked about her plans for this weekend, and she told him, he kept prodding for more information about the day and time of her shopping excursion.
“I gotta show ya, Max.” Cece pointed up ahead; ten-foot banners of the monstrosities hung from the ceiling above the displays.
“Which one you gettin,’ Mags?” Matt prompted, leaning more of his weight against her, one foot crossed in front of the other as if he had all day to shoot the breeze.
“Fort, rope, rocks,” Cece screamed while pogoing out of her seat with each description, causing passersby to look in their direction, smother a smile, and go about their shopping.
Mr. Stone unlatched Cece from the race car buggy and picked her up, strolling several feet away. “Which one?” Wide shoulders and muscled biceps bulged from the grip he had on Cece, and his firm backside tucked into well-fitting jeans had her checking out his confident stride. Since the displays were located in the same direction, she pretended her focus had been on them instead of Mr. Stone and his too-fine physique. A sigh came out of her mouth way too loudly and had her performing a quick cover up. With the list crunched in her hand, she fanned her face as if she were overwhelmed by the feat in front of her. “Why in the world did I think Kat and I could put that monster together? It’ll take us a month.”
She should have known Matt wouldn’t fall for her diversion, since his investigative skills were well-honed. “Umm hmm. I saw you getting a good look at all those parts, Mags. Lotta work there, but well worth it in the long run.” Somehow she didn’t think he meant the play structure, just like she hadn’t been measuring the amount of time it would take to piece it all together.
Taking a huge leap, she accepted the bait and went along with his underhanded tactic. “You think I can handle it?”
His grip tightened on her shoulder, and he declared, “You’re the one, Mags. You might need a little help . . . from friends. Take in that view.” He jutted his chin toward his buddy, who directed a salesperson over to the exact playset Maggie had come here to get. “Cece picked a strong piece that’ll make her very happy and provide a lot of support. It can handle any obstacles that’ll challenge her and you. There’s a bunch of them. But give it time, you’ll figure it out.”
“I’m not sure. There’s too much. A lot I don’t know about . . . it’s all so complicated.”
“You trust me, Mags?” He ducked down, blocking some of the distractions by getting right in front of her. “I’ll help. I promise. You can do this.”
Before getting to know Matt, and his caring and supportive nature, her family made up the majority of the people she put her faith in. She could add Matt to the list. An all-around good guy, he hadn’t given her any reason not to so far. Unable to verbalize a response around the lump in her throat, Matt inspected her reaction and then stepped aside. Cece and Mr. Stone examined each feature on the display—smiling, happily exploring, adorable.
Terrified and stuck in place, all she could manage in reply was a stiff, minuscule nod.
Matt gave her a swifter, more confident one in return. “All right, let’s go get what you guys need.” He grabbed her arm, the buggy, and led the way.
A payment in full had been made, delivery arranged for next Saturday, and after all the items on her list were loaded in the car along with Cece, she thanked Matt for helping her find everything. More than comfortable with the surroundings, he’d located the tools and any other essentials that would be helpful for the job. That left Mr. Stone. She hadn’t said a thing to him. The fact Cece hadn’t stopped talking to him helped cover for Maggie�
��s lack of manners. It made for a good excuse too since she didn’t want to be rude by interrupting her daughter’s nonstop chatter.
Mr. Stone saved her from the uncomfortable silent standoff. “We’re done. Let’s go get the stuff you need for the twins’ playhouse.” The first part stated matter of fact and directed toward her. The latter mentioned in an upbeat tone to Matt while Mr. Stone patted him on the back.
Her mouth flapping, she responded with a mumbled, “Uh, um . . .”
“Nope, not yet. I’ll be at your place next weekend, so will Rick. Lots to do. You’re gonna need the help.”
A phone ringing had all three of them searching. Chills rocked her when she saw the unknown number, a common occurrence when Jake called. On a rare occasion she received a sales pitch, but other than that only family contacted her.
“Maggie?” Matt’s questioning prompt didn’t divert her from the task at hand.
Over and over she jabbed the red button, silencing the chirping. It rang again as she went to toss it inside her bag. This time she turned it off and buried it under the other junk she carried around in the humongous tote.
She opened the driver’s door and placed a foot inside, when a tug on her shoulder tried to halt her. Determined to get away from any more male interference, she plopped down in her seat. “Kat and I can do it.” After shutting herself inside, she turned the ignition on and wound down the window. “Why do men think women can’t handle things on their own?” Not waiting for a response, she clarified her point. “I know how to read. In fact, everything is crystal clear now.” She tapped her temple, put the car in gear, and closed the subject. “You both have plenty to take care of in your own lives. Leave me alone to manage mine.”
While navigating through the crowded parking lot, she refused to acknowledge the shadowed figures in her rearview mirror. Instead, she moved forward, checking on her main priority: Cece sleeping in the back seat and the only person she should concentrate on—from here on out.