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Upstairs Downstairs Baby
Cat Schield
A boss falling into bed with the help is the ultimate scandal…Millionaire Linc Thurston is expected to marry well – not take up with his live-in housekeeper. But Claire Robbins is unlike any woman he’s ever known. Linc can’t resist Claire, but when her betrayals catch up with them both, will their passion hold strong?


A boss falling into bed with the help is the ultimate scandal...
But he’s never been one to resist temptation.
Millionaire Linc Thurston is expected to marry well—not take up with his live-in housekeeper. But Claire Robbins is unlike any single mom—any woman—he’s ever known. She’s beautiful, captivating...and hiding something. Even so, he can’t resist bringing her to his bed. But when her betrayals catch up with them both, will their passion hold strong?
CAT SCHIELD has been reading and writing romance since high school. Although she graduated from college with a BA in business, her idea of a perfect career was writing books for Mills & Boon. And now, after winning the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart® Award for Best Contemporary Series Romance, that dream has come true. Cat lives in Minnesota with her daughter, Emily, and their Burmese cat. When she’s not writing sexy, romantic stories for Mills & Boon Desire, she can be found sailing with friends on the St. Croix River, or in more exotic locales, like the Caribbean and Europe. She loves to hear from readers. Find her at www.catschield.net (http://www.catschield.net) and follow her on Twitter, @catschield (https://twitter.com/catschield?lang=en).
Also by Cat Schield (#uf0c7c11f-6981-5c76-b679-3ce2e111d9e6)
Upstairs Downstairs Baby
Royal Heirs Required
A Royal Baby Surprise
Secret Child, Royal Scandal
At Odds with the Heiress
A Merger by Marriage
A Taste of Temptation
The Black Sheep’s Secret Child
Little Secret, Red Hot Scandal
The Heir Affair
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Upstairs Downstairs Baby
Cat Schield


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07632-6
UPSTAIRS DOWNSTAIRS BABY
© 2018 Catherine Schield
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Cover (#u9cbf91ba-7640-513d-b910-bfc9a3aadd4b)
Back Cover Text (#u914afd13-8590-5d19-a8b1-1f2c2a8ff7c5)
About the Author (#u350c0c4c-11c6-5b1a-92e6-b48aa9a21b16)
Booklist (#u2f2e0523-1bdd-5297-beea-ba6de6c82ffd)
Title Page (#ub6d2e990-fc6d-555f-aa12-2419ea346192)
Copyright (#ud8d15613-97b0-58e5-9328-89f3c80b7c27)
Prologue (#u3917d227-3d78-58a8-8b7e-a2e2058c9e55)
One (#u4b516274-97a9-534b-b86a-143c4de4c1e9)
Two (#u83b21b86-1f28-5a21-8346-2f72e35db863)
Three (#u78655255-d9c1-5983-b635-9f98c53c1135)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#uf0c7c11f-6981-5c76-b679-3ce2e111d9e6)
Everly Briggs made sure she gave every appearance of listening sympathetically as London McCaffrey imparted her romantic woes. They were attending the “Beautiful Women Taking Charge” networking event, featuring a keynote from Poppy Hart, a motivational speaker and owner of Hart Success Counseling.
“And he gave you no reason for breaking off your engagement?” Everly sounded aghast, though in truth, she already knew all about London’s failed romance with professional baseball player Linc Thurston. It was the reason she’d contrived to meet her tonight.
London pressed her coral-tinted lips into a thin line as she shook her head. “He claims he isn’t ready to get married, but we’ve been engaged for two years.”
Everly tried not to wince at London’s affected Southern accent. The beautiful woman, with her silky straight blond hair and expensive clothes, was originally from Connecticut and that made her an outsider here in Charleston.
“Do you think he was cheating on you?” Zoe Crosby asked, her light brown eyes blazing with outrage from inside their frame of dark, lush lashes.
“Linc...cheat?” London toyed with her string of Mikimoto pearls as she considered this. “Yes, I suppose that’s a possibility. He travels more than half the year with the team and lives in Texas during the season.”
“And you know how women love professional sports players,” Zoe added. “My former brother-in-law is a race car driver and has women after him all the time.”
“These men have no right to treat us so badly,” Everly said. Each of the three women had shared a tale of being wronged by a wealthy, powerful man. “We need to get back at all of them. Linc, Tristan and Ryan. They all need to be taught a lesson.”
“As much as the idea appeals to me,” London said, “I can’t imagine taking revenge on Linc without it blowing up in my face.”
“What good would it do any of us? Anything we try would only end up making us look bad,” Zoe said, echoing London.
“Not if we go after each other’s men.” Everly restrained a smug smile as she took in her companions’ curious expressions. “Think about it. We’re strangers at a cocktail party. Who would ever connect us? I go after Linc. London goes after Tristan. And, Zoe, you go after Ryan.”
“When you say ‘go after,’” Zoe said, sounding hesitant even as her head bobbed eagerly, “what do you have in mind?”
“We’re not going to do them bodily harm,” Everly said with a silvery laugh. “But there’s no reason why we couldn’t ruin a business deal or mess with their current relationship. We’ve each been the victim of a ruthless man. And yet we’re strong, empowered women. Don’t you think it’s time we acted like it?”
London started nodding right along with Zoe. “I like the idea of striking back at Linc. He deserves to feel a little of the pain and humiliation I’ve endured since our engagement ended.”
Zoe leaned forward. “Count me in, too.”
“Marvelous. Now, here’s what I think we should do...”
One (#uf0c7c11f-6981-5c76-b679-3ce2e111d9e6)
He needed to fire Claire.
Lincoln Thurston opened his mouth to do just that as she set his morning smoothie of kale, protein powder and blueberries on the breakfast bar near his gym bag. Then she gave him a smile of such sweetness that he was helpless to do anything but grin back.
Letting his housekeeper go was a matter of desperation. He was obsessed with the lovely young woman who cooked and cleaned for him. Over the twelve months since he’d hired her, it had become increasingly difficult to avoid thinking about her in a certain way. A certain carnal way. Which was why he absolutely, positively couldn’t have her living in his house another day.
And yet he felt responsible for her welfare the way he did for his mother and sister. Claire was almost three thousand miles from her family and her husband had been killed in Afghanistan two years earlier. Besides, what excuse could he give? She cooked like a dream and kept his Charleston house in perfect order. And she was more than his housekeeper. She cared about him. Him. Linc Thurston, the regular guy. Not Linc Thurston, the ballplayer or the multimillionaire or the recently single and highly eligible bachelor.
Linc gave his head a brisk shake. He had to stop thinking about Claire as if she meant something to him. It had already proved detrimental to his love life, causing him to end his engagement.
Not that it was fair to blame Claire. She was the perfect employee. She never once encouraged him or acted as if she was even aware that he was an attractive, financially stable man who could take her away from the drudgery of her current occupation. It was refreshing that she wasn’t working an angle, and yet part of him wished that seduction was her goal. He wouldn’t have minded being at the heart of her sinister plot to trap him. At least then he could sleep with her and never for a second regret it.
As a shortstop with the Texas Barons, making fifteen million a year, Linc was accustomed to having women throw themselves at him. Not even his engagement had slowed them down. At twenty-six, when he was at the beginning of his eight-year, nine-figure contract, he’d basked in the attention. Now, at thirty-three, with only one year left to go, he wanted to settle down with a wife and kids. Or that had been the plan, until he’d reevaluated his feelings for London McCaffrey and realized he wasn’t in love with her.
So, what was it about Claire that preoccupied him?
“Mama.”
The reason Linc would be the biggest jerk of all time if he fired Claire ran into the kitchen buck naked.
“Where are your clothes?” Claire exclaimed as her daughter streaked past.
With her straight shoulder-length brown hair and a sprinkling of freckles over her nose, Claire had a fresh girl-next-door look that sometimes made her seem too young to be the mother of a toddler.
Two-year-old Honey Robbins made a beeline for Linc. He scooped her into his arms, whirling her around. She was a bright-eyed, enthusiastic charmer who’d wrapped him around her finger from their first meeting. Honey shrieked with laughter, and he smiled. Mother and daughter had burrowed beneath his skin to such an extent that not having them around would be so much worse than his constant battle with attraction.
He would just have to endure.
“I don’t know what it is about this child that she can’t manage to keep her clothes on,” Claire said, her brown eyes fixed on the toddler’s chubby cheeks.
“Maybe she takes after her mother?” Had he just said that? His careless words put bright spots of color in Claire’s cheeks and inappropriate thoughts in his head. “I don’t mean that you can’t keep your clothes on,” he hastened to add. “It’s just something people say. I mean, about children taking after their parents.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Claire said. “I thought maybe the security cameras caught me skinny-dipping last week.”
In truth, there were no security cameras and there was no way Claire would take her clothes off and slip naked into his pool. Which was why she could joke about it. Despite the provocative nature of the banter, Claire was a very proper and modest twenty-seven-year-old widow who still wore her wedding band. She obviously wasn’t over her husband, a hero who’d died two years earlier when a suicide bomber attacked his military convoy.
“I guess I better go review the video,” he said, filling his voice with lighthearted good humor. “What day might that have been?”
“I’m not gonna tell you.” Her grin wasn’t flirtatious, merely one of standard amusement. “It’ll give you something to do while I’m vacuuming upstairs. You do get underfoot these days.”
She was plainspoken and treated him like a cross between an older brother and the senile uncle everyone humored. It was his fault. When he hired her a year ago, he’d set the tone for their relationship, wanting—no, needing—someone in his life whom he could be himself around. That was part of why she’d crept beneath his skin. He didn’t hold back around her. She was the one person who had heard all his darkest thoughts, his doubts, his secrets.
Except in one area: the way he’d come to feel about her.
And in turn, she’d talked to him about growing up in San Francisco and how she met her husband. Her eyes glowed when she talked about him and turned teary when she spoke of how Honey would grow up never knowing her father. Claire was not a woman who loved easily and then moved on.
How could he take advantage of someone like that? A single mother with no one to turn to if she lost both her job and the place she lived.
He might not be the best guy in the world—London could attest to that—but there were some lines he wouldn’t cross. And seducing Claire was one of them.
* * *
Claire’s heart ached as she watched Linc with Honey. The man was too ridiculously good-looking for her peace of mind. Since he broke off his engagement to London, it had become harder and harder to resist fantasizing about her and Honey being part of Linc’s family. When the daydreams were at their strongest, she slid on her rubber gloves and cleaned his bathroom. Reminding herself that she was his housekeeper—not a beautiful, successful and pedigreed Charlestonian woman—grounded her flights of fancy. After all, Linc’s mother, Bettina Thurston, had barely tolerated London, and the socialite had had it all: money, success and beauty.
Claire stared at Linc’s bulging biceps as he lifted Honey high into the air and whirled her around until she shrieked in excitement. It was nearly impossible to deny the man’s appeal when he made her child happy. Nor did it help that his strong jaw, laughter-filled blue eyes and sensual lower lip made her blood run hot. Most days she wished he acted the part of a self-absorbed, successful jerk who thought all women were there to satisfy him. Then she wouldn’t have had any tingly feelings for him.
“What are your plans for today?” he asked, settling Honey against his chest.
Her baby patted his cheek with a chubby palm and cooed at him. But Linc’s bright blue eyes remained focused on Claire and the steadiness of his gaze made her temperature rise. She wanted to fan herself and drawl, Oh, my. She’d felt that way a lot since the baseball season ended and he’d returned from Texas. Too often. She couldn’t let this go on. There had to be some way to stop or at least slow her ever-increasing attraction to him.
Claire pictured his mother’s reaction to her predicament and that worked pretty well to cool her fever. Bettina was a true Southern belle from an old family line and rarely missed an opportunity to mention it. Having a pedigree in this town wasn’t synonymous with having money. Even though Bettina’s family had lost much of their fortune in the 1930s, her social standing hadn’t been lowered, which made it unrealistic that she would accept Claire as a suitable match for her son.
“Claire?” Linc’s deep voice roused her from her thoughts.
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about all the things I have to do today.”
“What if I take Lil’ Bit here off your hands, so you can get everything done faster and knock off early?” He tickled Honey, prompting a delighted giggle.
Claire shook her head. It wasn’t professional to let her boss play nanny, but in the months she’d worked for Linc, the line had grown ever more blurry between employer and friend.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I can take care of everything.”
Yet the way the pair got along, it was tempting to surrender Honey to Linc’s care. And Claire had other concerns. With Jasper dead, Honey was going to grow up without a father. Claire wanted her daughter to know a good man, but she couldn’t let that be Linc. Plus, she worried that Honey would get attached to him in ways she shouldn’t. What happened when Linc got married and started to have babies of his own? How confused would Honey be when his children took his full attention and he had no more time for her?
“I could use the company,” Linc continued.
Curse the man for being so persistent.
Claire opened her mouth to refuse yet again, but something in his manner stopped her. Since breaking off his engagement to the incredibly beautiful and successful London, his behavior had changed. It was as if he’d lost a bit of his cockiness, which was strange, since she knew he was the one who’d ended things. Maybe Linc had decided that had been a mistake.
London had already rebounded, making a splash in the society pages after being seen on the arm of millionaire playboy and race car driver Harrison Crosby. Claire wouldn’t be surprised if Linc was a little jealous that London had bounced back so fast.
“You can’t watch Honey,” Claire said, plucking her daughter from his grasp.
Honey protested being taken away from Linc, but Claire struggled to maintain a severe expression while ignoring her daughter’s scowl. It was like trying not to smile at a puppy growling fiercely as it plays. Honestly, the child was too adorable for her own good. She’d inherited her father’s charisma. The man could charm fruit off trees. Or the pants off unsuspecting culinary school students, which was what she’d been when they first met.
“If I remember correctly,” Claire continued, “you’re supposed to have lunch with your mother today.”
Linc made a face. “I haven’t forgotten.”
He grabbed his duffel bag and turned to leave the kitchen. Before he took more than two steps, Claire cleared her throat. When he pivoted back around, she was holding up the smoothie. Disgust twisted his handsome features, but he took the drink. She didn’t know what sorts of things he put into his body when he was away from Charleston, but while he was within her care, she made sure he ate nutritious and delectable meals.
“I want to see you taste it before you leave,” she said. “That way I know you won’t throw it out.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself.” He lifted the glass and took a doubtful sniff.
“Food can be healthy and delicious.”
“In my experience, the two don’t go hand in hand.” He radiated suspicion as he took a small sip. “Hey!” His eyes widened. “This one actually tastes good.”
Her heart did a happy little leap. To cover her reaction to his praise, she gave a satisfied nod. “I added a little agave syrup to satisfy your sweet tooth.”
“You’re the best.”
Warmed by his words, Claire let her gaze linger on his departing figure. Then shaking herself free of his spell, she carried her daughter into the sunroom next to the kitchen, where Honey had stripped off her clothes earlier. The room was filled with books and toys to keep the toddler occupied while Claire worked in the kitchen.
Once Honey was dressed, Claire settled her into a booster chair at the kitchen table. Sunlight spilled across the two-year-old’s light brown hair, awakening the gold highlights and making her hazel eyes twinkle. She had her father’s coloring. Claire’s espresso hair and brown eyes were not at all represented. The only mark she’d made on her daughter was her petite frame. Where Jasper had been six-three and broadly built, Honey was in the twenty-fifth percentile for height and weight.
With Linc off to the gym, the house settled back into its usual state of harmonious calm. It wasn’t that his energy was all that chaotic, but his presence tended to stir up feelings Claire would have preferred not to think about. Plus, during the seven months of baseball season, she’d grown accustomed to having the four-bedroom, five-bathroom home in the prestigious South of Broad—or SOB—neighborhood to herself and Honey.
While the toddler ate bits of a homemade blueberry waffle and slices of banana, Claire made out a grocery list. Linc had decided to host a dinner party on Saturday. It was his first time entertaining formally since his engagement to London had ended. When they were together, the socialite had preferred to host all their events at her mansion. London had always made it clear she doubted Claire’s experience and sophistication to pull off a Charleston-worthy event. On the surface, London had been right to judge Claire this way. Her upbringing in San Francisco was a pretty far cry from the pomp and circumstance that ruled Charleston society.
But Claire cooked like a dream. Everyone who’d tasted her food said so. In fact, it was on the strength of her culinary skills that she’d found her way to filling in for Bettina’s housekeeper during a ladies’ luncheon and eventually taking the job with Linc.
As soon as Honey finished her breakfast, Claire dressed her in an adorable outfit she’d found at a consignment shop and headed to the local gourmet grocery store with her list. The menu required several specialty ingredients and Claire knew she’d find everything she needed there.
While she shopped, she kept Honey occupied by practicing her colors.
“What color is this?” Claire asked, showing her a box of elbow macaroni.
“Green,” Honey crowed and clapped her hands, obviously pleased with herself.
“That’s right. It’s green.” She gave her daughter a smoochy kiss on her cheek, making her giggle.
“Well, isn’t she a bright little girl.”
Claire turned toward the speaker, a stunning woman in her early thirties with bright green eyes and dark blond hair subtly highlighted with gold. She had perfect skin and full lips, and her flawless makeup softened the angles of her face. In a yellow T-shirt and a flowered skirt, Claire felt dowdy and uninteresting beside her.
“Thank you. She picks up things so very quickly,” she said, her wide smile broadcasting her pride. “She’s already counting to fifty and knows her ABCs.”
“My goodness. How old is she?”
“She just turned two last month.”
The woman looked suitably impressed. “You must work with her a great deal.”
“I’m home with her all day, so that really makes a difference.”
The woman’s gaze flicked to the plain gold band on Claire’s left hand. Her first inclination was to cover the betraying lack of sparkle. A part of Claire winced at the impulse. In this part of town, status was everything, and she’d grown tired of how fast she was dismissed. Claire pushed her irritation aside. She was a housekeeper. She shouldn’t be worrying about anyone’s perception of her. Still, it smarted a little every time she glimpsed disdain in someone’s eyes.
But there was nothing but kind interest in the woman’s expression. “I bet you read to her all the time.”
“I do. She loves books.” Claire beamed at Honey, realizing how many memories of her own childhood involved her mother reading to her in the overstuffed armchair in their living room. “Do you have any children?”
“No. I’m not married.” The woman sighed. “As much as I love children, I’m not really sure I’m cut out for motherhood.”
“It’s not always easy.”
The woman acknowledged the remark with a faint smile. “I’m Everly Briggs.”
“Nice to meet you, Everly. I’m Claire Robbins and this is my daughter, Honey.”
“Well, Claire, that’s an interesting collection of ingredients you have there,” she said, letting her gaze travel over the contents of Claire’s shopping cart. “What are you making?”
Smiling, Claire ticked off the menu she’d fretted over for the better part of a week. “Scallops with potato pancakes and caviar sauce. Braised lamb shanks with vegetable puree. And seared bitter greens with roasted beets and spiced pecans. And for dessert, a pomegranate-chocolate cake.”
With each menu item she listed, the woman’s eyes grew wider. “Well, that’s quite impressive. What’s the occasion?”
“My employer is hosting a dinner party.”
“Who might that be? I’ll have to wrangle an invitation. It all sounds delicious.”
Everly fired off the question so blithely that Claire answered before considering whether she should. “Lincoln Thurston.”
The woman’s friendly manner underwent a slight transformation at the mention of Linc’s name. She stopped making polite conversation and became riveted. “Oh.” Her smile took on a keen edge. “Now I really want to come to the party. I heard he’s single these days.”
“Ah...yes.”
Wishing she’d kept her mouth shut, Claire gathered breath to make a courteous exit, but the stranger latched on to the shopping cart, preventing Claire from going anywhere.
“I’m having some friends over next week and would love to hire you to cater my party.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t. When I said I worked for Linc...” Claire cursed her earlier lapse. For a moment, she’d seen the admiration in the woman’s eyes and it had felt amazing. “I’m not his caterer. I’m his housekeeper.”
“The one who lives-in?” Everly asked, a smooth drawl sugarcoating her avid curiosity.
Claire frowned. “Yes.” What was this woman after?
“Oh.” Everly shaded the word in all sorts of understanding. “Then you’re the woman all Charleston is gossiping about.”
Two (#uf0c7c11f-6981-5c76-b679-3ce2e111d9e6)
When Linc returned home from the gym, Claire’s car wasn’t in the driveway. She’d finalized the menu for his dinner party the night before and was likely shopping for ingredients. He was excited to have her cooking for his friends. Her culinary skills were fantastic. In fact, he was surprised she hadn’t gone to work for a restaurant when she’d first moved to Charleston.
He’d asked her about it once and she’d explained about the long hours and how she’d struggled finding childcare. As he’d listened to her talk about her challenges being a single mom, he appreciated that she wanted to put her daughter’s needs first. Still, he sensed there was more to the story. She seemed to lack confidence in her ability. Which made no sense. She cooked like a dream.
Maybe he’d put too much pressure on her. This was the first time he’d entertained since moving into the Battery Street house. While he and London had been together, she’d insisted on hosting all events. At first, he’d agreed because the house he’d purchased had gone through almost three years of renovations and wasn’t the ideal place to entertain. But once the home had been restored to its former glory, his fiancée had been unable to relinquish control. Linc had begun to see their relationship wasn’t the give-and-take partnership he craved. Too bad he hadn’t realized this before proposing marriage.
Linc set his gym bag on a bar stool and rummaged in the refrigerator for something that would take the edge off his post-workout appetite. Claire always had snacks ready for him. Today was no exception. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that he had only an hour before his mother expected him for lunch. He was running late thanks to an impromptu shopping detour he’d made on the way to the gym. It had occurred to him as he was leaving the house that Claire had been working for him for a year. He’d neglected to mark the anniversary last week and decided to rectify the error. A few doors down from the gym was a boutique run by Theresa Owens, a friend of his sister Sawyer’s from high school. He’d popped in to buy a small token.
After polishing off a turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich and a bowl of mixed berries, Linc rummaged for a pen to sign the card that would accompany the whimsical asymmetrical silver earrings embellished with turquoise, tourmaline and opal. He’d chosen earrings because aside from her plain wedding band, earrings were the only accessories he’d ever seen Claire wear.
Was it weird that he had bought Claire such a personal gift? He’d considered cash or a gift card but liked the idea of something he’d put thought into. Jewelry was a natural go-to purchase for him. His mother and sister both loved receiving sparkly earrings and necklaces. When he was a kid, there’d been little money available for such things. It made him feel good to be able to spoil the women in his life. And he knew they appreciated it.
Linc left the card and the jewelry box on the breakfast bar where Claire was sure to find them and headed upstairs to shower and change. His mother expected him to arrive at her house promptly at noon, wearing pressed trousers, a crisp shirt and a blazer. Money might have been in short supply while his mother had been young, but her upbringing had been rich in Southern custom.
Linc’s grandmother had clung to memories of wealth and power long after her husband had sold their South of Broad home to a wealthy gentleman from “off”—a man who had no history in the city. Keeping up with private school tuition and social pressures, as well as the increased expense of maintaining the large historic houses, had meant difficult choices for many old Charleston families.
Yet, despite the downturn in his financial circumstances, Linc’s grandfather had retained enough status to keep his family afloat socially. Linc’s mother had never given up her dream of returning her family to its former glory, not even when her husband proved no more financially astute than her father had been, and his embezzlement scheme caused the government to seize their property and bank accounts.
That was why as soon as he signed his first pro contract, Linc had made sure to set his mother up in the sort of Charleston house that would provide Bettina the level of comfort her mother had known growing up. The Mills-Forrest House was located on King Street, South of Broad. Built in 1790, it had been extensively restored and renovated by Knox Smith to provide Bettina with the best blend of historic charm and modern function.
Knox was Linc’s best friend. A real estate developer, he’d worked hard on transforming the city of Charleston to its former glory. During their twenties, the two bachelors had spent a significant amount of time tearing up the town and breaking hearts. They’d been quite the dynamic duo.
Twenty minutes later, as he entered his mother’s parlor, Linc was once again struck by a wave of gratitude that he could do this for her. She was in her element, holding court from a comfortable chintz armchair by the fireplace.
“Good afternoon, Mother. You look splendid today.” Linc crossed the room and bent down to kiss Bettina’s soft cheek.
He lingered a second and inhaled her rose perfume, smiling at the memory of snuggling on her lap when he was young. Even after his sister came along and monopolized their mother’s time, Bettina always made sure she hugged her son before he went to bed.
“Of course I look splendid,” his mother shot back tartly, her eyes twinkling. “I had a facial yesterday that took ten years off.”
She squeezed his hand and then indicated the chair beside the sofa where she sat. On the side table was a silver bell. She picked it up and gave it a vigorous ring. A thin woman with gray-streaked blond hair appeared at the parlor door.
Dolly had been with his mother for ten years and the two women had developed a snarky, passive-aggressive relationship that worked for them. As outwardly hostile as his mother was toward the housekeeper, Linc was certain Bettina secretly enjoyed the ongoing battle. In turn, Dolly wasn’t without a spine and often gave as good as she got. Linc didn’t understand why she stayed. Dolly could have found less stressful employment in a dozen homes.
“Linc needs a martini,” his mother proclaimed.
“No, thank you. Just some sparkling water with a lime.” He bit down on the admonition that it was too early to start drinking, knowing his mother would simply ignore him.
“I’ll have a bourbon with ice. Make sure you use the good stuff.” Before Dolly was out of earshot, Bettina turned to Linc. “She’s been giving me some swill she claims is from Grady’s distillery. As if I haven’t been drinking bourbon all my life and wouldn’t know the difference.”
Grady was Linc’s cousin on his mother’s side. Now that bourbon had been “rediscovered”by the masses, the trend seemed to be everyone with a little pocket change slapping a label on a barrel and calling it craft bourbon. Linc considered most of it swill. However, after attending one of Grady’s tasting parties, Linc had been impressed enough to back his cousin’s venture. So far, Grady hadn’t gone bankrupt, so Linc figured his cousin must be doing something right.
“Tell me about your dinner party tomorrow night,” Bettina said, turning her bright blue eyes on Linc. “Who all is invited?”
“The usual suspects. Knox, Sawyer, Austin, Roy, Grady and a few others. There will be twelve of us altogether.”
His mother reeled back in dismay. “Did you invite any girls besides your sister?” Bettina had been unhappy when he started dating London and positively mortified when they got engaged. This time around he knew she intended to steer him toward a more appropriate choice, preferably a young woman whose Charlestonian roots went as deep as his own.
“She’s promised to bring six friends so it’ll be even numbers.”
His mother had a knack for radiating displeasure without moving any of her facial muscles. “You can’t let your love life be decided by your sister’s random friends.”
“I also can’t let my love life be decided by my mother’s social aspirations for me.” He smiled to take any sting out of the words.
Bettina waved her hand as if she was shooing away a fly. “You have a duty to this family to marry well and have children who will carry on the Thurston name.”
Seriously, Mother?
There was a time, after Linc’s father was caught embezzling and went to jail for five years, that Bettina had cursed the Thurston name. Linc wisely chose not to point this out to her.
“If you don’t ease up on my search parameters,” Linc muttered, “I’m going to die childless and alone.” He made it sound as if he was kidding, but in truth, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to fall in love with the right woman.
Look at the mistake he’d made with London. He still wasn’t clear if what he had felt for her was love, or if she’d simply won him over with her beauty, determined personality and competitive spirit.
They’d met when he was in his late twenties and starting to lose interest in the never-ending merry-go-round of women in and out of his life. He’d spotted her at a charity event she’d organized and been drawn to her beauty. That she’d also been blessed with brains and ambition had struck the right chord with him, and within a month, they’d become exclusive.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his mother said. “I can name a dozen women who would be perfect for you. In fact, as soon as you leave, I’m going to make a list and invite them to a party here in a couple weeks. That girl of yours is a dream...”
While his mother prattled on, Linc grappled with his discomfort over being the main event at one of Bettina’s gatherings. Part of him wanted to make his mother happy after everything she’d endured in her life, but he wasn’t about to surrender his freedom unless the woman was nothing short of spectacular.
“...Claire?”
His heart gave a little jump as his mother mentioned the young widow. “What about Claire?” Had she guessed his ever-increasing preoccupation with the woman who worked for him?
“Can I borrow her to cater the party?”
His mother’s request reminded Linc that his attraction to Claire needed to end. In any other town they could make it work, but in Charleston, where his mother was so entrenched in her family history, a Thurston and an outsider could never happen. Especially when that outsider was also his housekeeper.
“I’ll ask her if she’s willing,” he said, his tone subdued.
“Wonderful. Send her by early next week so we can discuss the menu.”
To Linc’s relief, Dolly announced lunch a few minutes later. He could tell that the wheels were spinning in his mother’s head. As the food was being served, Bettina demanded pen and paper so she could write down the list of appropriate women she intended to introduce to him.
Linc sipped tomato bisque soup and devoured curried shrimp and egg salad sandwiches in silence while his mother remarked over each woman she intended to include. Bettina made it sound as if they were candidates for him to choose from, but he knew the truth: the party would be one big husband hunt, with him, the unlucky prey.
The situation wasn’t unfamiliar. Since high school, women had been throwing themselves at him. And once he’d started playing pro baseball, he couldn’t turn around without a beautiful woman hitting on him. But those women weren’t usually of a sort he took seriously. After a one-night stand or a brief hookup, they drifted out of his life.
This was different. His mother intended to toss him into a pit with a voracious group of marriage-minded females. He doubted he’d come out intact.
So Linc started making his own list of eligible guy friends whom he could persuade to attend to take some of the focus off him. He knew twenty who fit the bill, but the question remained: How many could he convince to attend? They had to realize what his mother was up to.
Over dessert, his mother turned her attention to gossiping about her neighbors and the antics of her former in-laws. There was little new or surprising in what she had to impart, and Linc let the white noise of her voice flow over him while he wondered if Claire had found the earrings and if she liked them.
The unique asymmetrical style wouldn’t have suited most of the women he knew, but Claire would appreciate them. She had a quirky Bohemian style, a product of her growing up in California. He hoped she liked the interesting shapes and blue-green color of the stones. Would she guess that remembering turquoise was her favorite color had prompted him to choose this particular pair? Doubtful. He’d been doing a good job hiding his interest in her.
“I’m thinking about getting remarried.” His mother’s abrupt declaration jolted Linc out of his musings.
“Remarried?” he echoed dumbly, his thoughts scrambling to catch up. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”
“I’m not. At least, not exclusively.”
Linc frowned. What did that mean? He narrowed his eyes and focused all his attention on his mother. “So you’re seeing several men?”
He couldn’t reconcile this with his mother’s behavior after her husband went to jail, was released and then abruptly filed for divorce. After years of devoted support, Bettina had been blindsided, causing Linc to sever all contact with his father. Ever since, she’d kept a low profile and hadn’t really dated, at least as far as Linc knew.
“Not in the way you’re implying.” His mother’s tone sharpened. “I entertain gentlemen from time to time. They come by for lunch or cocktails. Sometimes dinner.”
“Where do you meet these men?”
Bettina preened, obviously appreciating her son’s alarm. “Is that concern I hear in your voice?”
“Of course it’s concern. You can’t just drop something like this on me.” Linc shook his head. Today’s lunch was certainly eventful. “Are you sure they’re interested in you and not just—”
“I suggest you don’t finish that statement,” his mother said, eyes narrowing. “I’m an attractive woman.”
“Yes, you are,” he murmured.
Bettina rolled on as if he hadn’t spoken. “With needs.”
“Please, no more,” he begged, cringing away from thoughts of his mother having any sort of sex life.
Bettina continued, either oblivious to or not concerned about her son’s sensibilities. “You’ve been so busy with your life that you haven’t paid all that much attention to what’s going on with me or your sister.” His mother paused for a beat. “Did you know she’s been seeing someone?”
Linc shook his head, struck dumb by the twists and turns the conversation was taking. “Anyone I know?”
Bettina shook her head. “You know she doesn’t tell me anything about her personal life.”
Sawyer had learned that lesson watching their mother meddle in his life.
“Then how do you know?” he asked.
“A mother knows when her children are up to something, and Sawyer is definitely acting like she has a secret.”
As the implication of Bettina’s words hung in the air, Linc hoped that wasn’t true, because the last thing he needed was for his mother to find out about his feelings for Claire.
* * *
Claire stood in the middle of The Market on Market and gaped at the woman who’d just issued such a provocative statement. With her brain short-circuited as the implications sank in, her entire body remained frozen. But as she watched Everly’s gaze flick to Honey and narrow as if assessing the toddler from a fresh perspective, Claire regained her wits.
“Me?” she burst out, half laughing, half in irritation. “And Linc Thurston? That’s absolutely ridiculous.”
While Claire wasn’t surprised the woman knew all about Linc’s severed relationship with London, she was stunned to be thought of as the reason for the breakup.
Everly’s perfectly arched eyebrows rose. “Is it?”
“You have it all wrong. I’m his housekeeper.” Not to mention she was the furthest thing from Linc’s type.
He was attracted to beautiful, elegant women with money and social graces. A man of his wealth and social position needed an accomplished hostess at his side, someone of equal standing in Charleston. His mother would demand nothing less.
“You think it’s unusual for a man to have an affair with his hired help?” Everly asked, her voice sly and full of salacious undertones.
Claire considered all the scandals that had arisen surrounding famous men and their female staff. From nannies to assistants to housekeepers. She supposed it made sense for the woman to jump to the wrong conclusion about her.
“Linc is not like that,” she said with mounting dismay.
Why was she bothering to defend herself and Linc when this woman was so far off track, not to mention completely out of line?
“You’re female. And you’re pretty. I’m sure you can understand how it looks.”
The woman’s insistence made Claire ponder her interactions with Linc. Sure, they had an occasional flirtatious exchange, such as the one this morning about her skinny-dipping in his pool. Sudden heat flooded Claire’s cheeks as she thought about how it could’ve been misinterpreted.
“He’s never been anything but professional with me.”
“Of course.” But Everly didn’t sound at all convinced.
Claire was on the verge of letting it go when she remembered that in Charleston’s tight community even a whiff of scandal could be damaging. She sucked in a breath for one final clarification.
“Linc is surrounded by beautiful, interesting women all the time,” Claire said evenly, keeping her features composed as she hit the woman with a final double-barreled shot. “I clean his toilets. There’s nothing beautiful or interesting about that.” Then, barely giving the woman a chance to let that sink in, she added, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish my shopping.”
Claire pushed the cart forward. To her dismay, the woman wasn’t giving up. Everly’s heels clicked on the tile floor as she moved to intercept Claire once again. She snagged the shopping cart with one manicured hand and Claire noticed how she appeared contrite.
“I’m sorry. I was out of line to say what I did. Let me take you to lunch to apologize.”
The urge to laugh almost overpowered Claire. She imagined how out of place she and Honey would be sitting down to a meal with Everly in one of the sophisticated restaurants that the elegant woman no doubt frequented.
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I feel terrible. Let me make it up to you.”
The whiplash of the woman’s abrupt turnaround left Claire feeling off balance. “I don’t think so.”
“Let me give you my card. You can call me when you have some free time.”
With Everly’s business card burning in her pocket, Claire finished her shopping. It had been easier to accept the card and agree to call the attractive blonde woman than to continue to put her off.
Anxiety had eased its grip on Claire once she got in line to pay for her groceries. Really, it was almost funny that anyone could imagine she was attractive enough to catch Linc’s attention. The idea was absurd. By the time Claire exited the grocery store, with a small bag of items on one hip and her daughter on the other, she’d chalked up her encounter with Everly to one of the pitfalls of working for someone in the public eye.
Claire stored the groceries in her trunk before settling Honey into her safety seat in the back seat of her ten-year-old gray Saab. The car had taken her from California to Charleston when she fled with her daughter after Jasper’s parents started threatening her with a custody suit. To obscure her trail and make it hard for them to know where she’d gone, Claire had sold her former car and paid cash for the Saab. A friend had helped by registering the car in his name. Claire probably should’ve ditched the Saab when she reached Charleston, but she felt unaccountably secure after she reached the city.
In an odd way, when she’d exited I-26 and driven south on Market Street all the way into historic downtown Charleston, she’d been overwhelmed by a sense of coming home. Which was ridiculous, because until a little over a year ago, the farthest east she’d ever been was Las Vegas.
During the short drive back to Linc’s house, she shook off the eerie feeling from the odd encounter with Everly. In a town like Charleston, it made sense that most people would feel as if they had some connection to Linc and speculate on the reason behind his abrupt breakup with London.
He was a media darling. Not only was he a famous baseball player, handsome, wealthy and from one of Charleston’s older families, but he was also an active philanthropist, offering his personal and financial support to numerous charities. His innate charisma dominated whatever room he walked into. In short, Linc was a colossal celebrity.
“People make up all sorts of absurd things,” she remarked to her daughter as she unbuckled Honey from her seat and lifted her out.
As soon as Honey’s sandal-covered feet touched the brick pavers of Linc’s driveway, the toddler made a beeline for the kitchen door, leaving her mother to follow more slowly after collecting her bags. In addition to grocery shopping, Claire had purchased flowers and containers for centerpieces. She intended to make those up this afternoon because tomorrow would be reserved for cooking.
“Mama!” Honey’s excited call pulled Claire away from the refrigerator, where she’d been putting food away.
“What, baby?”
Honey’s bare feet slapped the kitchen’s wood floor as she brought her mother a small flat box of a size perfect for earrings. “Blue.”
“Yes, it is. Where did you find that?”
Honey pointed to the center island. Claire glanced over and spied a white envelope. She took the present from her daughter’s hand and carried it back to where Honey had found it. She set the box on the envelope and her daughter immediately protested.
“No!”
“That’s not ours to play with.”
“Mama.” Another thing Honey had inherited from her father was stubbornness. The toddler marched back to the island, climbed up on the nearest chair and once again reached for the present. “Mine.”
As quick as her daughter could be, Claire had learned to be quicker. She scooped up the envelope and present, depositing them into the upper cupboard that held everyday dishes. Honey set her hands on her hips and scowled her displeasure.
Lips twitching, Claire turned her back to her daughter and began making her lunch. It was almost one and her errands had taken longer than she’d expected. Not until Honey sat at the kitchen table with turkey, cheese and apple slices did the two-year-old’s sour expression ease. With her daughter occupied, Claire focused on the centerpiece arrangements. During the two-year period in her life when she’d been attending culinary school, to make ends meet Claire had gone to work for a florist, first as a delivery driver and then as an arranger.
“Nice flowers,” she heard Linc say from the back door.
Claire looked up from her project and spied him entering the kitchen. Her heart gave a foolish little jump. He looked handsome in his navy blazer with the delphinium-blue pocket square that matched his eyes.
“Thank you, but the arrangement is far from done.”
“I like the colors you picked out.” He approached the center island where she was working and selected a stem of pale gold freesia. Setting the horn-shaped flowers to his nose, he inhaled. “This one smells good.”
“I thought the color and shape would go nice with the Golden Forest china. What do you think?”
Although Claire doubted Linc cared which of his three sets of dishes she chose, talking—or babbling, in this case—kept her from doing something foolish, like blurting out the story of her encounter with Everly.
“And the Waterford, of course,” she continued. “Your mother would approve. What do you think?”
She clamped her lips together to shut down the flow of words, all too aware that Linc was eyeing her. Damn that woman in the grocery store for filling her head with thoughts of being in a steamy affair with Linc.
“Sounds like you have everything in hand.” He glanced at the spot where Honey had found the jewelry box and envelope and then surveyed the rest of the kitchen.
When his brows drew together, Claire realized what he must be looking for. “I put it in the cabinet,” she explained, wiping her hands on a dish towel before crossing to where she’d secured the present. “Honey was all over it. We’ve been working on her colors and she noticed the box was blue.”
“Blue,” Honey chortled from the kitchen table, clapping her hands enthusiastically. “Mama. Down.”
“Finish your lunch, baby.” Claire retrieved the box and envelope and extended it to Linc.
“You didn’t open it?” he asked in surprise.
“No.” Claire gave her head a vigorous shake. She’d never step across the line like that. Was that what he’d made of her bout of awkward chattiness earlier? That she’d snooped and felt guilty about it? She placed the gift on the counter in front of him and returned to her flower arranging. “I’d never do something like that.”
“Mama. Down.”
A weird buzzing filled Claire’s ears, distorting her daughter’s voice, as a lazy smile played over Linc’s lips. He set his hand on the counter and leaned in her direction.
“Did you even look at the envelope?”
A lock of blond hair fell across his forehead, lending a boyish charm to his already overwhelming handsomeness. She realized his effect on her had grown stronger lately.
What would it be like to have him close his arms around her and kiss her hard and deep? Just the thought of being crushed between his ripped body and the unyielding kitchen cabinets made her blood heat. She reflexively clamped down on the rose stem she was holding and winced as a thorn pricked her thumb.
“No,” she said, sticking the injured thumb in her mouth. “Should I have?”
“Mama!” Honey was rocking in her booster seat, demanding that Claire release her.
“It’s for you.”
Her stomach dropped to her toes at his sly grin. He’d bought her a gift? Why would he have done that? From his triumphant expression, he was obviously pleased with himself. Despite her lingering discomfort from Everly’s scandalous assumptions, Claire found herself smiling back at Linc with no clear understanding why.
“For me?” In her bewilderment, she sounded like a complete chowderhead.
“Your name is on the envelope, isn’t it?”
“It is?” Her pulse jerked in an erratic rhythm as she shifted her gaze to the small box and envelope.
He tapped the center of the paper where Claire was scrawled in Linc’s familiar handwriting. “It is.”
“I don’t understand.” The jewelry box felt heavy in her hand.
“You’ve been working for me for a year. I bought you something to celebrate your anniversary.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” But she was thrilled that he had and more than a little relieved that was all there was to it.
She’d enjoyed working for him this past year. His house had become her sanctuary and she’d do anything to protect that. Feeling safe was a luxury she hadn’t known since she’d become pregnant with Honey.
“I wanted to.” His deep voice resonated through her. “Why don’t you take a look at what I got you. I’ve been dying to see if you like it.”
Something in his tone made her skin flush hot.
“Of course I’ll like it.” Telling herself it was silly to feel so breathless over an anniversary token didn’t stop the flutters in her stomach. “You have wonderful taste.”
Linc was always doing something nice for the women in his life. His mother loved to collect cloisonné pillboxes, so he was always on the lookout for them. And whenever he visited her house, he never showed up empty-handed. It might be a bouquet of flowers, sugar-glazed pecans or a bottle of craft bourbon—Linc was always thinking of what Bettina might enjoy.
He’d been the same way with London. In her case, his purchases had been expensive pieces of jewelry or designer handbags. His sister liked gadgets, so whenever Linc ran across something new and innovative, he made sure Sawyer got one.
Conscious of Linc’s keen blue eyes on her, Claire started with the card. As she glanced at the cover, some of the tightness in her throat eased. He’d chosen something funny, a drawing of a dog wearing a big smile above the words Thank You. But when she flipped open the card and glanced at what he’d written, tears stung her eyes.
You’ve been a bright spot in my life for the last year. Thanks for all you’ve done. —Linc
“That’s so nice,” Claire croaked out, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. “Honey and I have really appreciated how kind and generous you’ve been. Not to mention patient.” She indicated the kitchen table, where her daughter was throwing herself back and forth in the chair and chanting to get down.
“It’s been great having you here.” He went over to lift Honey into his arms. “Both of you.”
Claire refused to give in to the warmth suffusing her at the sight of her daughter in Linc’s arms. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Linc always enjoyed Honey’s company. So why today was Claire overwhelmed by sentiment? Because that woman at the grocery store had drawn a startling connection between her and Linc? Or was it the notion Everly had put in Claire’s head that she was in a vulnerable position living and working in the same house as a man as attractive as her boss? Not that he would ever take advantage of her. But what if it wasn’t a matter of him taking advantage?
For the first time since Jasper had left for his final overseas tour, Claire confronted the ache building in her body. She’d been doing a decent job of focusing on Honey’s needs and ignoring her own—especially while Linc was engaged to London. He’d been completely off-limits while he’d belonged to another woman.
But now that Linc was single, parts of Claire felt reckless and uninhibited. She longed to wrap her arms around Linc’s neck and plant hot kisses on his sensual lips. To feel his strong hands slide over her heated flesh.
She gulped as her body was battered by cravings she suspected Linc could satisfy only too well. Damn it. She was falling for her boss. This would not do.
Three (#uf0c7c11f-6981-5c76-b679-3ce2e111d9e6)
Silence reigned in the gourmet kitchen as Linc freed the toddler from her booster seat and set her on her feet. Giggling, Honey clung to his leg for a couple seconds before racing into the sunroom, where her toys were kept.
When he turned back to Claire, he saw that she was staring at the contents of the jewelry box. Her slight frown worried him.
“You don’t like them?”
At his question, Claire took a couple breaths and seemed to gather herself. “It’s too much.”
Linc chuckled warmly. “I assure you it’s not nearly enough.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“You like turquoise, right?”
For a span of a few heartbeats, Claire seemed to stop breathing. Had it been too much that he’d not only remembered her favorite color, but also that he’d found her something quirky to match her style?
“I’ve never seen anything like these,” she murmured.
“I got them at that boutique Sawyer’s friend owns. A local artist makes them. Each pair is one of a kind. I thought you’d appreciate that.”
“I do.” A smile accompanied her words, but it lacked something, making Linc frown.
“You’re sure you like them? I have the receipt if you want to return them and choose something else.” Hopefully she wouldn’t. He wanted her to wear something he’d picked out for her.
“I’d never do that,” she rushed to assure him. “They’re beautiful and I’ll treasure them.” As if to indicate the conversation was at an end, she set the top back on the box and put it aside. “Thank you.”
Linc wondered if the earrings were destined for a drawer, never to see the light of day again. His mood dipped. This wasn’t at all the outcome he’d been hoping for. He wanted her to love the earrings and think of him every time she wore them. Each time they tickled her neck, he’d imagine the contact was his lips grazing across her soft, fragrant skin. If he couldn’t touch her, he wanted something from him to caress her.
“You’re not going to wear them?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking the question.
She shook her head. “They’re too fancy for every day.”
“Then you’ll wear them tonight when I take you and Honey out for dinner.”
She looked appalled. “Dinner? Tonight?”
“Part two of your anniversary celebration.”
“But I have so much to do to get ready for tomorrow night’s dinner party.” She gestured to the flowers. “Why don’t I make something and we can eat here.”
“I don’t want you cooking or cleaning up.” He assumed she’d appreciate eating a meal she hadn’t prepared. “Let me give you a break from all that. A thank-you for all you’ve done for me.”
Her mouth opened and closed as if she wanted to continue arguing. At last, she nodded. “May I pick the place?”
“Of course. Where would you like to go?”
“There’s a seafood restaurant by Wappoo Creek I’ve been dying to try.”
“If it’s seafood you want, the yacht club has a fantastic restaurant.”
When her eyes widened in dismay, Linc wondered what was wrong.
“I’d really rather not go there.” Her chin lifted and her body language screamed determination. “And you said I could choose wherever I wanted.” When he nodded, she relaxed. “Besides, I’d rather go somewhere more kid-friendly, since Honey is coming along.”
“There are always families eating at the yacht club. You don’t need to worry about Honey being out of place.”
She shook her head. “How was lunch with your mother?”
Her change of subject reminded him of his mother’s request. He grimaced.
“She wants to throw a party and asked if you could cater it.”
“Of course.” Even as she spoke, her gaze grew unfocused. The wheels were already turning as she sorted through what treats she might prepare. “When is the party?”
“Two weeks.”
Another woman might have protested, but Claire merely nodded. “What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing special.” No need to explain that his mother intended to throw him to the wolves. “She just wants to invite some friends over.”
“Did she mention how many people?”
“Not really.” He sounded positively grim.
Claire gave him a curious once-over before saying, “I’ll give her a call and discuss the particulars.”
“If it gets to be too much, let me know. I don’t want you feeling overwhelmed.”
“Don’t worry.” She dismissed his concern with a flick of her hand. “Steve and Jenny will be here for your party tomorrow. I’ll ask them if they’re available. It’s a little last-minute, but if they’re busy, I’m sure they’ll know some other people who could help serve.” Claire glanced at the flowers on the counter. “Now, I’d better get back to these. I have lots to do before tomorrow night.”
“Dinner at six?” Linc proposed, naming an earlier time than he usually ate so they could have a leisurely meal and still get home for Honey’s bedtime.
“Sure. That will be fine.”
Nodding, Linc headed for the stairs. With a packed schedule from February to October, he should have appreciated the downtime during off-season. Instead, he chafed at the inactivity. It gave him too much time to think.
Lately, he’d been preoccupied with life after baseball. He’d had a great run, but he was going to be thirty-four when his contract was up. Despite the fact that his performance hadn’t slowed, at that age, there was no way he would get another big deal. Nor was he even sure he’d still be playing for the Barons. How much longer did he think his career in the major leagues was going to last?
So what was he planning to spend the rest of his life doing? It wasn’t as if he needed the money. Even after taking care of his mother and sister, funding the charities he worked with, and buying and restoring his house, he’d spent only a small percentage of his millions. Most of the money went into investments that would sustain him long past his contract’s end.
What he needed was to find something that inspired him. Because when baseball no longer consumed his life, he was going to go crazy. He envied Knox’s passion for restoring Charleston’s historic properties and his love of sailing, both locally and all over the world. Linc had joined Knox on several adventures but preferred a spacious suite on land to the claustrophobic quarters of a sailboat.
Knox’s face appeared on the screen of Linc’s phone, as if his thoughts had summoned his friend. He answered the call.
“What’s up?”
“My afternoon appointment canceled,” Knox said, sounding chipper. “Want to hit the batting cages so I can give you a few tips? Maybe you can bring your average up next season.”
Linc grunted good-naturedly as he took the hit. He’d been in a slump for the last four weeks of the season. All the sports commentators pointed to his broken engagement as the reason, but that had been the cure, not the cause of his problem.
“Sure,” he said. “I need to change. Meet you in thirty?”
“See you then.”
An hour later, as he took his turn with the pitching machine, Linc felt some of his tension melt away. Playing baseball had always let him escape whatever troubled him. It had been a godsend when his father went to jail and then divorced Bettina, abandoning the three of them to start a new life. Sometimes Linc wondered if he would have been good enough to make it in the majors if he hadn’t practiced so much back then.
He’d devoted every spare second to batting practice and perfecting his fielding techniques. Granted, he’d been endowed with a great deal of natural talent as well, but mostly he attributed his success to hard work and determination.
“Want to grab a beer after this?” Knox asked as they exchanged places.
“Can’t.”
Knox shot him a look. “Got plans?”
“I’m having dinner...” Linc paused, gripped by a sudden reluctance to tell his best friend about the anniversary dinner with Claire. He didn’t want to hear Knox’s opinion on taking the beautiful widowed housekeeper and her adorable toddler out to dinner.
“Anyone I know?” Knox quizzed, his tone sly.
“It’s not like that,” Linc countered. As much as he hated keeping Knox in the dark, Linc didn’t want to get into a huge discussion about Claire. Deciding a subject change was in order, he steered his best friend on to the topic he loved best. “How’s the King Street project coming along? Have you got the plans approved yet?”
Six months ago Knox had purchased a building in the heart of the business district and was in the process of getting the permits to turn it into a ten-unit luxury condo complex. He’d paid four million for the property, and at the moment it was occupied by college students.
Working with their friend Austin’s architectural firm, he’d commissioned plans that would include two private roof decks, as well as amenity space that would hold up to forty-eight people in the rear. Built in 1947, the building wasn’t a historic property, but the location offered an opportunity for people to buy in the downtown area and that was always a draw.
“Not yet. The BAR requested we tweak a couple things on the rooftop decks before they’d give the go-ahead.” The Board of Architecture Review met only twice a month, so the approval process was never speedy. “We’re slotted into the agenda for next week, so hopefully the third time’s the charm.”
Knox didn’t sound particularly stressed about the delays. They were the norm when doing any construction or development in the old city and the historic district. In fact, as frustrating as the board could be as they scrutinized projects from a dozen different angles, Linc knew Knox appreciated the board’s dedication to preserving Charleston’s past.
Of course, there was the other, less sentimental motivation for keeping the romance of Charleston’s historic district alive: tourism. The city survived on its five million visitors each year who brought in nearly four billion dollars in revenue. And the number-one reason cited for visiting Charleston was the city’s history and historic sites, followed by restaurants and local cuisine.
“I hope you get the approval this time around,” Linc said.
Knox nodded. “Are you still planning on making the hunting trip?” Knox’s family owned a large plantation a couple hours west of Charleston. Each fall, Knox brought a handful of his friends there for a weekend of deer hunting.
Linc cursed. Until now, he hadn’t realized that the hunting trip and his mother’s party were happening at the same time.
“I’m going to have to skip it this year. My mom’s decided to host a party and wants me to attend.”
“Can’t you tell her you already have plans?”
“Not exactly.” Linc was starting to understand how the deer must feel as Knox’s buddies gathered for their weekend of sport. “I’m afraid the party is about finding someone for me to date.”
“I’m not surprised,” Knox said with a broad grin. “She wasn’t too happy when you picked London. I’m sure she’ll make sure every woman there will be perfect for you.”
“Their pedigrees will be everything she could ever ask for,” Linc replied. “As for whether they’ll be perfect for me...that remains to be seen.”
* * *
Claire noticed a slight tremble in her hands as she dressed Honey in a new outfit to go out to dinner with Linc. Excitement raced through her body, bringing a sparkle to her eyes and color to her cheeks. She’d noticed the betraying effect while applying eyeliner and sweeping brick-red gloss across her smiling lips. It was impossible to subdue her high spirits despite several reproachful warnings to herself.
This was just a casual dinner between a boss and employee to celebrate one year of employment. Common enough in a professional setting. Nothing to get giddy over. Yet scolding herself didn’t settle her jittery nerves. Feeling this way would only bring her trouble. Plain and simple, she found her boss attractive, and instead of shutting her emotions down, she reveled in the thought that they were going to spend the evening together.
Fight it though she might, Claire had always been led by her emotions. If she’d done a better job listening to logic, she might have avoided getting involved with Jasper. On the other hand, whatever mistakes she’d made with him had given her Honey, and she wouldn’t trade her daughter for anything. Still, in the past few years, she’d become more cautious when following her heart.
“There,” she told her daughter, stepping back to admire the pale blue sundress covered in bright butterflies she’d recently bought. “You look so nice.”
A quick glance at the clock showed they were running late. Claire twisted her daughter’s hair into a loose topknot and fastened a bow. She felt a twinge at how adorable the two-year-old looked. Honey’s hair had the perfect length and texture to do all sorts of fun braids and updos, and when Claire had time, she enjoyed experimenting with ideas she gleaned off the internet.
“Can you play with your toys for a couple minutes while Mama gets dressed?”
Honey nodded and headed toward the books that lined the lower shelf of the nightstand in her room.
Claire headed next door to slip into the dress she had laid out. It was a simple short-sleeved dress, the color of wisteria. She fit her feet into a pair of beige sandals and snagged a white sweater out of her closet in case she needed it.
In less than five minutes, she returned to her daughter’s room to collect Honey, and the two of them headed downstairs.
Linc awaited them in the kitchen. He wore khaki pants and a navy cotton sweater over a white button-down shirt. The look was perfect for the casual seafood restaurant near Wappoo Creek.
“Oh, good,” he said, “you both have sweaters. I reserved a table outside. I thought you might enjoy the view.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Linc escorted them out to his car. Earlier he’d borrowed her keys so he could transfer Honey’s car seat from Claire’s Saab into the back of his white BMW X6. As she slid into the passenger seat, Claire couldn’t help but savor the thrill of being enfolded in the soft camel leather. The Saab was in good shape, but it couldn’t compare to this sort of luxury.
“All set?” Linc asked, glancing at Claire.
She nodded. As they made their way west on Broad Street, her anxiety began to fade. She and Linc had dined together several times in the year she’d been working for him. Granted, all those times had been impromptu meals in the kitchen or out by the pool, but it wasn’t like this was some momentous occasion. It was a work dinner.
“I’ve been thinking about the party my mom wants to have,” he began, breaking the silence as they crossed the Ashley River. “I hope you don’t feel obligated to do it.”
“Of course not.” While Linc was gone for the summer, Claire didn’t have a lot to do and she had assisted Dolly with three of Bettina’s dinner parties. “I’m always happy to help her out.”
“It’s extra work and, of course, you’ll be compensated.”
While she understood what he was getting at and appreciated his attempt to be fair, the conversation did serve to drive home that she worked for him. Maybe this was exactly what she needed to hear. A reminder of their relative positions. He was the boss. She, the employee. It cut the jubilant buzz about their evening nearly in half, so that by the time they reached the restaurant, she’d successfully tamed her wayward pulse.
Linc took charge of getting Honey out of her car seat and carrying her into the restaurant. Although the two-year-old was perfectly capable of walking, Linc always seemed to be in a hurry to get places and her short stubby legs were no match for his long ones.
The hostess led them to a table that overlooked the water. Although called a creek, the average width of the Wappoo was ninety feet. It connected the intracoastal waterways around Charleston. Beyond the weathered wooden railing extended a dock, where several small boats were tied.
Linc settled into his chair, looking completely at home in the casual atmosphere. “I didn’t realize they had a dock,” he said. “Next time we should come by boat.” He noticed her looking at him and cocked an eyebrow. “What?”
“You look like you fit right in.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“This place is a little more casual than what I imagine you’re used to.”
“You forget I didn’t always have money. In fact, I waited tables at a place very much like this the summer before my senior year of high school.”
“I have a hard time picturing you waiting tables.”
“Why?”
She was used to thinking about him as someone she took care of. It was hard to imagine him taking orders and schlepping food.
“You don’t really seem the sort.”
“The money was good.” He paused and regarded her with a slight frown. “I know what it’s like to struggle and worry about taking care of my family.”
“I know.” But she couldn’t picture him as desperate or poor.
“I didn’t go to private school. My mom worked hard to take care of Sawyer and me. When I got old enough to pitch in and help, I did.” As he spoke, his gaze grew more piercing. “So you see, we’re not so different. If I hadn’t been good enough to make it in the majors, our paths might’ve crossed in a restaurant instead.” He frowned thoughtfully.
While she wondered what had prompted his change in mood, a waiter approached to take their drink order. When she ordered a lemonade, Linc shook his head.
“What about a glass of wine?” he prompted. “We’re celebrating, remember?”
She wasn’t sure alcohol was a good idea but didn’t want to disappoint him. “What are you having?”
“I’m going to have a beer.”
“Make it two.” She turned her attention to the menu. “This all looks delicious.”
“Is there anything in particular you had in mind?”
“They’re known for their steampots,” she pointed out, noting there were six to choose from.
“Let’s get the Battery Street Bucket.”
Naturally, he’d pick the most expensive dish on the menu. Her mouth watered as she scanned what all was included. In addition to shrimp and sausage, the pot contained both Alaskan snow and king crab as well as lobster. It was something she’d never have been able to afford, but since Linc insisted they were celebrating, Claire nodded.
“And how about a dozen raw oysters to start?” he prompted.
“Why not.”
When the waiter returned with their drinks, Linc placed their order and Claire selected macaroni and cheese for Honey. Linc insisted they needed a side of hush puppies as well. She laughed as she contemplated how they were going to get through so much food.
“You must be hungry.”
“I worked up an appetite at the batting cages with Knox this afternoon.” Linc took a long pull from his beer and set the bottle down. “He seems to think that I need the practice because of my end-of-season slump.”
“He should be nicer to you. Doesn’t he realize you were under a lot of pressure this year because of what was going on in your personal life?”
Linc snorted. “No one cares.”
“That’s not fair.”
“They’re not paying me all those millions so I can let a failed romance distract me,” he pointed out.
“I suppose not.” She pushed her glass around the weathered table. “But you didn’t have a failed romance,” she countered, unsure where the compulsion to stick up for him was coming from. “You decided things weren’t working. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Sometimes love dies.”
His gaze sharpened. “Are you speaking from experience?”
“Sure.” Claire pondered her relationship with Jasper.
“So you were in love with someone before you met your husband?”
Recognizing her mistake, Claire said, “I guess I thought I was.”
She hated lying to Linc about being married to Jasper but couldn’t change her story a year into her deception. If only she’d thought the whole thing through before deciding life would be less complicated if everyone thought she was still grieving her hero husband. And the truth was, she had moments when she missed Jasper. Or at least the Jasper she’d fallen in love with. The one who’d been a gentle lover and romantic boyfriend.
“You guess?” Linc echoed, his expression curious.
“Sure. I mean, how much does anyone know about being in love when they’re still in their teens?”
“How old were you when you met your husband?”
“I’d just turned twenty. It was Mother’s Day. He’d come into the florist where I started working after high school, looking for a gift for his mom.” She’d thought it was sweet the way he’d considered her opinion on the perfect bouquet.

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