Читать онлайн книгу «Must Like Kids» автора Jackie Braun

Must Like Kids
Jackie Braun
“Children have a place and it’s anywhere I’m not!”It was one off-the-cuff remark. But when it goes viral, Alec McAvoy, the new CEO of Best for Baby, is labelled a playboy bachelor who hates kids. Enter Julia Stillwell, image consultant extraordinaire. The widowed mom of two has a knack for changing public opinion, and she’ll teach Alec all he needs to know. But once they start this makeover, they don’t want to stop… and that’s when one little kiss leads to many, many others!So now Julia’s worked her magic, but is Alec’s transformation only skin-deep? Or can this hunky executive convince her he’s truly become a family man?


“Children have a place and it’s anywhere I’m not!”
It was one off-the-cuff remark. But when it goes viral, Alec McAvoy is labeled the playboy CEO of Best for Baby—who hates kids!
Enter Julia Stillwell, image consultant extraordinaire. The widowed mom of two has a knack for changing public opinion, and she’ll teach Alec all he needs to know. But once they start this makeover, they don’t want to stop…and that’s when one little kiss leads to many, many others!
So now Julia’s worked her magic, but is Alec’s transformation only skin-deep? Or can this hunky executive convince her that he is ready to become a family man—so long as it’s with Julia?
MUST LIKE KIDS


If a car could scream “no kids,” his would—a slick black sports coupe with tinted windows.
Alec unfolded himself from the car, still dressed in a suit. Dark designer lenses shaded his eyes. His appearance said “important.” It said, “I wield power.”
He looked like anything but a fun-loving family man.
“I told you to change your clothes,” she said.
“I didn’t have time to stop off at my apartment.”
“You might want to lose the suit coat.”
“No need to say that twice.”
As Alec shrugged out of it, she tried not to stare, but her gaze was pulled to the firm upper body showcased in the tailored cotton dress shirt. When her gaze returned to his face, she realized he was watching her. One side of his mouth was lifted in amusement.
Heat that had nothing to do with the broiling sun suffused her face.
Julia cleared her throat. “And the tie, too…”
Must Like Kids
Jackie Braun

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT JACKIE BRAUN
Jackie Braun is the author of more than two dozen romance novels and novellas. She is a three-time RITA® Award finalist, a four-time National Readers’ Choice Awards finalist, the winner of a Rising Star Award in traditional romantic fiction and was nominated for Series Storyteller of the Year by RT Book Reviews in 2008. She makes her home in mid-Michigan with her husband and their two children. She enjoys gardening and gabbing, and can be reached on Facebook or through her website at www.jackiebraun.com (http://www.jackiebraun.com).
This and other titles by this author are available in ebook format—check out www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
For my sisters in writing at Harlequin Romance.
You all inspire me.
Contents
Chapter One (#ua142e1ab-c2a4-583b-be0b-edc48c2dbb3b)
Chapter Two (#u66038964-23ac-57d4-89c1-ad1659fbd0eb)
Chapter Three (#ud18d05e3-ca2e-56e7-a86b-99b08a9da0c6)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE
“Children have a place and it’s anywhere I’m not.”
Even before the reporter’s eyebrows lifted, Alec McAvoy knew the words were going to come back to bite him in a place that would make sitting uncomfortable.
He laughed uneasily. “That’s off the record, right?”
“This is an interview, Mr. McAvoy. Nothing is off the record,” the woman interviewing him replied blandly, although he got the feeling she would be grinning broadly the first chance she got. She was young, new to her job and looking to make her mark as a journalist. He had just handed her a golden opportunity.
“Right. But you understand that I was just joking when you asked me if I liked kids? Of course I like kids. They’re great. Wonderful.”
Especially when they were quiet, preferably sleeping or strapped into strollers when out in public. This time he managed to keep the thoughts to himself.
“Joke or not, I find it a telling response coming from the head of a company that specializes in products for infants and children.”
To use the vernacular of the little ones to whom Best For Baby, Incorporated catered, Alec was in deep doo-doo.
No amount of backpedaling or flirting—and, yeah, he’d resorted to that before the interview was through—changed the end result. When the article hit the internet via American CEO magazine’s online edition, it contained his flippant remark. The reporter had included his explanation that it was a “joke.” Her use of quotation marks around the word only served to make it sound more insincere. But what elevated his statement from gaffe to truly damning was the reporter’s inclusion of an interview she’d conducted with Alec’s ex-girlfriend, Laurel McCain. No doubt Laurel had relished the chance to tarnish his reputation after their ugly breakup six months earlier. She’d wanted a ring and the title of Mrs. Alec McAvoy. He’d simply wanted out.
“Alec is uncomfortable around children,” his ex claimed in the article. “We were together for nearly two years, and I can count on one hand the number of times my children were included in our outings.”
No mention of the fact that she’d preferred it that way.
“Was I surprised when he was named the new head of Best For Baby back in January? Yes. Extremely,” Laurel went on to say. “Don’t get me wrong, Alec is a smart businessman, but as a mother, I always thought Best For Baby was about more than the bottom line.”
Within hours of appearing online, the story was picked up by a couple of high-profile bloggers. Mothers everywhere were appalled, outraged. It was shared on Facebook, tweeted about on Twitter and went viral.
Now, one week later, Alec was in the elevator at the Best For Babies headquarters in Chicago, summoned to the top floor of the thirty-story building on the banks of the Chicago River for a special meeting of the board of directors of the publicly traded company.
Deep doo-doo, indeed.
If he hadn’t been apprehensive already, he would have been upon entering the conference room. A dozen, dour-faced board members were seated around the large oval of polished cherry wood. They included Herman Geller, the chairman, who steepled his fingers in front of him the way a head schoolmaster might as he waited for Alec to take a seat.
“Thank you for clearing your schedule to accommodate this special meeting today, Alec,” Herman began. “We know you’re a busy man, especially right now.”
Alec nodded, worked up a smiled, and then, since he believed the best defense was a good offense, he launched the first volley.
“And my thanks to all of you for your time. I want to apologize again for my...verbal blunder. I understand fully the seriousness of the situation it has caused the company, and I want to assure each of you that it is being dealt with. I have our marketing department working overtime to reach out to our customers and reassure them that Best For Baby is not a hard-hearted company that is solely profit-driven. We’re calling the campaign ‘One Big Family’ and focusing on how the Best For Baby family is with our customers’ families every step of the way.”
“Yes, I received your memorandum on that a couple of days ago. I especially like the idea of including photographs of our workers’ children.” But the older man didn’t appear satisfied. He tugged at one unruly eyebrow before saying, “At this point, Alec, it’s not only the consumer who needs to be reassured. Our investors do, too.”
Alec nodded and reached for the glass of ice water that was already poured and waiting on the table in front of him. His throat felt parched. It remained that way even after he took a sip.
“Like all of you, I am very disappointed with the drop in our stock’s value.” Some media outlets were using words such as tanking and free-fall to describe the double-digit plummet the stock had taken in a matter of days. “I’ve drafted a letter to shareholders that should allay their concerns.” He swiped a finger over the condensation forming on the outside of the glass. Forget parched. His throat felt scorched now as he pushed out the rest of the words. “In addition to my personal apology, I am willing to tender my resignation if our stock has not rebounded within the next three months.”
“That’s commendable, Alec,” Herman replied. “Let’s hope it won’t come to that. We would hate to lose someone of your caliber over a publicity debacle such as this.”
Reading between the lines, Alec knew they would, though. They would shake him off even sooner if need be. Still, it appeared that his employment wasn’t on the agenda of today’s meeting. Alec was just starting to relax when the older man said, “That’s why, in a special meeting of the board yesterday, it was decided that we would bring in a consultant to help us with damage control.”
The board had convened two special meetings in as many days? And the first one had been conducted without his knowledge. That didn’t bode well.
“A consultant?” he asked, embarrassed to hear his voice crack.
“Yes. She comes highly recommended and is eager to get started.”
Alec blinked at that. “You’ve already been in contact with her?”
Which meant today’s special meeting wasn’t to ask his opinion, but to render the board’s verdict. He didn’t like being left out of the loop.
“Under the circumstances, we thought it best to act quickly. Our stockholders are demanding action.”
Dexter Roth from marketing was going to be irked, Alec thought. Same for Franklin Kirby, their advertising representative. Alec had asked the two men to head up the multipronged media blitz set to be unveiled this coming weekend. They were not going to be happy that an outside consultant was being brought in as the point person. Alec said as much now.
“Julia Stillwell will be part of the One Big Family campaign, an integral part,” Herman said. “She’s an image consultant.”
Alec’s brows hiked up. “An image...”
“Consultant,” Herman finished for him. His gaze was unflinching, although no one else around the table would meet Alec’s eye. “For better or worse, you are the face of this company. The public needs to get to know you better. They need to like you, trust you. They need to know that even though you are a bachelor with no children of your own, you aren’t antifamily or antichild.”
“I’m not.”
Just because he wasn’t interested in having a wife and kids didn’t mean he had anything against either marriage or parenthood. Some men were hardwired for the roles of husband and father. Alec—the product of a pair of freewheeling, free-spending parents, who had packed him off to boarding school so they could continue their jet-setting, hard-partying ways—figured he wasn’t. No way would he put another kid through the emotionally sterile childhood he’d endured, spending holidays and summers with nannies and other adults who’d been paid to watch over him.
“Excellent.” Herman glanced at his watch. “Your first meeting with her will be in less than an hour. She has a full schedule today, but has graciously agreed to fit you in.”
“How lucky for me,” he managed to say and forced a smile in case his sarcasm came through.
“You’ll need to go to her office, though. I’ve given your secretary the address. Ms. Stillwell asked that you be on time. She has a pressing appointment immediately after yours.”
“I’d better head out now, then.”
Alec pushed back his chair and rose. Irritation had replaced the apprehension he’d experienced upon entering the room. An image consultant! The idea was galling.
Herman’s parting words of “good luck” did little to improve his mood.
* * *
Julia Stillwell checked her watch against the clock on the wall. Alec McAvoy had one minute and forty-eight seconds to be at her door for their thirty-minute appointment. Punctuality was rule number one in her book. When people were late it said they didn’t think other people’s time was as valuable as their own. It also wreaked havoc on her ridiculously tight personal timetable.
As a single mother with two young children, she knew only too well the importance of staying on schedule. If she was late leaving the office, it meant she would be late picking up her kids from school, which in turn meant Danielle would be late for dance class or Colin for T-ball, or whatever else was on tap for that day. As it was, being a parent made life unpredictable, an adventure. She tried to see that as a plus, but on days such as this, she wasn’t always successful.
She’d been up since 4:00 a.m., jolted from sleep by a put-out Danielle. The nine-year-old had been none too happy to have to share her bed with her six-year-old brother, Colin, who’d climbed in with her after having a bad dream. Julia had checked under his bed and in his closet for the green-goo-oozing monster of his nightmare. Even after giving him the all clear, he’d been unable to fall back to sleep in his own room. So, all three of them had wound up in her full-sized bed, where none had managed another wink.
Julia fought back a yawn now as she glanced at the clock again. Alec McAvoy was officially late. When he arrived, assuming he did before she had to leave, she would offer him a cup of coffee so she could have some herself. One thing she wouldn’t be doing, however, was adding any time onto the end of the appointment to accommodate him. It might be his money, or more accurately Best For Baby’s, but it was her time. And she had better things to do with it—such as ensure Colin got to his T-ball game on time.
A high-powered executive such as Mr. McAvoy probably wouldn’t or couldn’t appreciate that. Julia didn’t stop to wonder if she might be judging him too harshly. After all, she’d been hired to rescue him from the deep hole he’d dug for himself, one that was costing his company and its investors millions of dollars, all because of an inflammatory statement. Slip of the tongue? Perhaps. But she didn’t buy for a minute that he’d intended the comment as a joke.
Professionally and in her personal life, Julia had met a lot of men like Alec. Men who viewed family obligations, children in particular, as an inconvenience, a burden. It was why, in the four years since her husband’s death, she’d only gone on a handful of dates. Men were interested in getting to know her until they learned that she came with a side order of kids. Then Julia found herself off the menu. It was their loss.
It was Alec McAvoy’s loss, too, she thought, glancing at the folder marked with his name.
She propped a hip on the edge of her desk, picked up the file and leafed through it again as she waited with growing impatience for him to arrive. The photograph was the one that had accompanied the story. It showed a handsome man in his mid-thirties clad in an expertly tailored charcoal suit, dark blue shirt and conservative-print silk tie. A handkerchief of the same print and fabric as the tie peeked from his breast pocket.
“I bet you’ve never wiped a runny nose with that,” she mused aloud.
Julia exhaled slowly. She had to convince mothers the country over that this bachelor CEO of a company that catered to children wasn’t antikid. The task wouldn’t be easy, especially if she didn’t put her heart into it. She didn’t have to like him, she reminded herself. But she had to make sure everyone else did. Still, it would help if she liked him. If she found his personality as appealing as his dark eyes and sexy smile. She frowned and glanced at her watch again. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to like about a man who kept her waiting when she’d gone to the trouble of rescheduling another appointment to fit him in.
Fifteen minutes later, her foot was tapping in agitation when a knock sounded at the door. Sandy, her assistant, poked her head into the room, her expression apprehensive. The young woman knew Julia’s feelings about tardiness, having been on the receiving end of a lecture more than once when she’d first started.
“Mr. McAvoy is here. Shall I show him in or do you want me to reschedule his appointment for another day?”
As tempting as it was to go with the latter, Julia had made a commitment to the Best For Baby board, so she said, “I’ll see him now, thanks. I have a few minutes to spare before I have to leave.”
She ordered herself to be welcoming and enthusiastic. If the image makeover she planned to give him failed to turn around public opinion, she didn’t want it to be because of anything she hadn’t done. It would be all his doing, she decided, when Alec strode into her office with an obvious chip weighting his shoulder. He didn’t want to be here. More than that, he resented being forced to come. The grim set of his jaw made that much clear.
She pegged him as the take-charge sort. That type didn’t like being told what to do, regardless of the reason. Still, Julia hoped she wasn’t going to have to waste precious time trying to convince him they were playing on the same team.
In person, he was taller than she’d expected him to be, surpassing the six-foot mark by at least a couple of inches. His shoulders were broader than she’d guessed from the photo, and she could see now that it was the result of actual muscle rather than a tailor’s creative needlework. As she studied him, an inappropriate amount of awareness stirred in her, the likes of which she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. At her sharp intake of breath, the dark brows over his glass-bottle-green eyes rose fractionally.
He appeared caught off guard as well. For the briefest of moments, feminine vanity had her hoping it was for the same reason she’d been taken aback: attraction—both potent and instantaneous. She dismissed the thought. She was being ridiculous, foolish, which wasn’t like her. More likely, he was surprised by her appearance. A lot of people were when they met her. Julia looked harmless rather than high-powered, as if she should be teaching Sunday school or volunteering for the PTO—both of which she did—rather than single-handedly manipulating the media and realigning the public’s mindset. A client once told her that was her advantage. She certainly used it as one.
Sure enough, he said, “You’re Miss Stillwell?”
“Actually, I go by Ms.”
“Ms.” He nodded, and she thought she heard a hint of derision in his tone when he added, “Of course.”
He extended a hand. It was big and warm, and it nearly swallowed up the one that she offered to him in return.
“Why don’t you have a seat, Mr. McAvoy.” She gestured toward a chair. Perhaps sitting he wouldn’t appear quite as imposing.
He shook his head. “This won’t do.”
Uh-oh. “Excuse me?”
She girded for an argument, but it turned out the effort was unwarranted.
“The courtesy titles. Can we drop them? They make me feel like I’m back in boarding school.”
Boarding school. Which meant he’d grown up in privilege and was used to having far more than his basic needs met. She narrowed in on another clue to his personality. “Let me guess. You had a problem with authority in those days.”
“Sometimes.” She caught a glimmer of rebellion in his green eyes. “Rules are made to be broken.”
“Not my rules. And punctuality is one of them,” she told him pointedly.
“I suppose you’re expecting an apology for my being late.”
“Now that you mention it, that wouldn’t be a bad place to start.”
“Sorry.” His mouth curved into a smile.
Julia ignored the effect it had on her pulse and instead folded her arms. “Is that the best you can do? No wonder your board of directors hired me.”
That had his smile flattening into a tight line.
“I can be persuasive when I want to be.” His gaze shifted south briefly, leaving her to feel exposed even though she knew her neckline to be modest. Then he offered a smile that would have been right at home in the bedroom during foreplay.
Julia wanted to be insulted or outraged or, at the very least, irritated. What she felt was aroused...awakened. That feeling did make her irritated—with both of them.
“Let’s get another one of my rules clear. I have nothing against flattery. In fact, I find that it comes in handy in my line of work. But I am immune to it. You’re not here as my date. You’re here as my client. Save the smoldering looks for your girlfriend.”
His brows rose again. “That was direct.”
“I don’t believe in beating around the bush or playing games. What would be the point? Games are for children.”
“Yes, and apparently I need help where they are concerned, at least in terms of my public image.” His lips returned to a grim line.
“You don’t want to be here,” she remarked.
“No, I don’t, but I wasn’t given a choice.”
She wasn’t the only one who believed in being direct, apparently.
“You made a mess, Mr....Alec.”
“A big one,” he agreed. “But I prefer to clean up after myself.”
“A man who likes to clean up after himself.” She pursed her lips in mock consideration. “As pleasing as I find that attribute in a member of the opposite sex, I’ve been hired to do a job, namely to save yours and pull your company’s stock out of the basement. So, we can be adversaries or you can help me help you.”
He was quiet a moment. Finally, after exhaling deeply, he asked, “What will all this entail?”
Julia had had less than twenty-four hours to work on a plan, but she didn’t mention that. Besides, he’d talked to the board of directors, so he knew. If he was expecting excuses, he wouldn’t get them from her.
“Have a seat.” She motioned again to one of the chairs angled in front of her desk and returned to where she’d been, with one hip on the edge, preferring the height advantage it gave her. He had to look up to her now. “In addition to rebutting the information provided in the original article—”
“That’s been done,” he interrupted.
“Not by me, it hasn’t.” Julia had read the follow-up article. She’d probably been in the minority there. His response to the original article certainly hadn’t gone viral. “As I was saying, in addition to my rebuttal and some well-placed stories in other media outlets, both traditional and digital, we need to find, or if need be, manufacture, as many opportunities as possible in the coming weeks for you to be photographed and filmed with children.”
His eyes narrowed. “What children?”
“I don’t suppose you are close to any? Nephews? Nieces?” she asked. Thanks to her older sister, Eloise, Julia had one of each. It would be great if Alec had an actual relationship with the little ones who would be used in the photo opportunities she had planned. When her question was met with stony silence, she added, “Leave that to me.”
“You used the word manufacture.”
“We can’t expect invitations to such events to fall into our laps in a timely fashion. That’s why I propose Best For Baby hold some kind of community event here in Chicago to start and perhaps locations elsewhere around the country if I feel that’s necessary. It will
coincide with your One Big Family campaign.”
“So, what? You’re going to have me kissing babies like a politician on the campaign trail?” He looked more appalled than amused.
“If need be. Do you have a problem with that?” She wanted to know right then how much of a battle she was in for.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ll reserve judgment.”
Julia straightened and went behind her desk, where she picked up a spreadsheet. Handing it to Alec, she said, “These are some of the events I have in mind. The two highlighted in green have been confirmed.” They’d been easy to pin down, since the organizers had been desperate for corporate sponsorship, which is what they’d been promised in return. “The ones in yellow are tentative. There will be more, but this is a start.”
He barely spared the paper a glance before saying, “I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”
“Actually, you’ll clear your schedule, and I’ll get back to you with talking points and suggested attire.”
“You’re going to pick out my clothing?” He rose to his feet. He didn’t look happy at the prospect. A lot of clients, especially those who came to her under duress, didn’t like being told how to dress. She couldn’t blame them, but that didn’t change anything.
“You can wear whatever you want to the office or on your own time,” she told him. “But for these events, yes, I’ll be picking out your clothes. What you wear needs to help convey the message we want to send.”
“What messages are my clothes sending?”
She glanced down and swallowed an inappropriate sigh. She managed to sound completely professional when she replied, “They tell me you take a great deal of care with your appearance and that you have the means to buy what you want, regardless of the price tag.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Most of the people buying Best For Baby’s products can’t relate to your lifestyle, Alec.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Are you calling me a snob?”
“I’m not calling you anything.”
“But that’s what you think?”
“What I think isn’t the issue here. That’s the signal you will send if we’re not careful. It’s all about image.”
She braced for further argument, but he said, “You’re the expert.”
“Yes, I am.”
Julia wasn’t fooled by his easy capitulation. She and Alec McAvoy were going to butt heads a lot before their association ended. In a perverse way, she was looking forward to it.
TWO
It was like playing a chess match, Alec thought. Or maybe a game of blink, waiting for the other person to close their eyes first. It was a bit galling when he was the one who did.
Julia Stillwell was a surprise. And not just because she was five and half feet of tidy curves tucked into a creamy silk blouse and conservative navy pencil skirt. She was pretty, nonthreatening. The girl next door. She disarmed her opponents with a cherubic smile, dimples included, that took one’s mind off her waspish sting. But the real kicker was the unsettling amount of attraction he felt for her. It had landed like a prizefighter’s punch to the midsection the moment he’d walked through her door. He was still struggling to regain his footing.
Fifteen minutes into their meeting, she glanced at her watch—though he didn’t doubt for a moment that she already knew the exact time—and said, “I have to be going, but I’ll be in touch tomorrow morning.”
“Hot date?” he asked, just to see if he could rile her. No one should be that composed. And, okay, he was curious, too.
She didn’t look the least bit ruffled. In fact, the smile she sent him was relaxed and filled with humor. “Of a fashion.”
What in the heck did that mean?
A couple of pictures were propped on her desk, but from his position, Alec couldn’t make out their subject matter. Were they of her husband? No. He hadn’t noticed a ring on her finger, and he’d made a point of looking. A lover, then?
Irked by his own curiosity more than by her evasive response, Alec said, “Isn’t it a little early to be knocking off for the day. It’s not even five o’clock.”
Still standing, she bent and logged off the computer, but not before clicking on a file. On the credenza behind her, the printer fired to life and began spitting out pages.
As she turned around to collect them, she asked, “How late do you work?”
“Until six at least, seven on occasion.” In truth, he’d been known to stay past eight and was on a first-name basis with his building’s cleaning crew and the night security detail.
“For a total of how many hours a week?”
“Usually fifty to sixty.” Or, as had been the case the previous week, seventy-five.
She shook her head. Her expression said, I thought so.
“Well, I put in forty hours at my office. Never more than forty. I start my day early so that I can be out of here early.” She glanced at her watch again. “In fact, today I’ve stayed five minutes late. To accommodate you.”
She tapped the papers she’d gathered into a neat pile and reached for the stapler. Her efficient movements were the perfect complement to her words.
“Don’t you ever clock some overtime? I would think, given the urgency of my situation and what you are being paid to address it, that you would be happy to log a few extra hours here and there.”
He’d hoped that would get a rise out of her, but he wasn’t successful. Not completely, anyway, although he did detect a slight edge to her tone when she told him, “I believe in balance. I have a life. In fact, my personal life has been known to take precedence over pulling in a paycheck when that’s what I feel is warranted.”
“The perk of being your own boss?”
“That’s right. I made a decision a long time ago that my children would come first.”
“You have children?” he blurted out, immediately aware of how the question came across. Sure enough, Julia’s expression tightened.
“Two, but don’t worry. They’ve had all their shots.” She turned the photographs on her desk around. A pair of elementary school-age kids smiled back, one of each sex, both sporting their mother’s deep dimples.
“Sorry.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
She nodded. “You’ve had to do a lot of apologizing lately where children are concerned.”
“I’ve got nothing against kids.” God help him. He was starting to sound like a broken record.
She nodded again. “Here’s a tip. Free of charge. My job here is what I do. It’s not who I am, which is why I choose not to spend every waking hour at it. There’s more to life than work, Alec.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Julia replied.
He hadn’t intended it as one. Her wry expression told him she suspected as much. Alec’s parents lived extravagantly and well beyond their means. Even before he had graduated from college, they had burned through his mother’s substantial inheritance. If not for his paternal grandfather’s interference, they would have wound up homeless and penniless, and Alec would have been forced to drop out of his Ivy League school before receiving his degree.
Granddad was gone now, but before he’d died he’d made sure to put the money he left in a trust, one that Alec administered. As such, his parents had to come to him for everything. Neither party was particularly happy about it.
Indeed, that was why Alec had arrived late to his appointment with Julia. Just prior to leaving his office, his mother had phoned him in a panic. Even though they were only a week into June, she and Alec’s father needed more money. They’d used up their generous monthly stipend to purchase airline tickets—first class, of course—and book a two-week stay with friends at an exclusive resort on a small, private island in the Caribbean. They didn’t leave for another week and now they had nothing left to buy groceries. Nor did they have any spending money for their trip.
He’d put down his foot. Or he’d tried to. Finally, to get his crying mother off the phone, Alec had agreed to transfer an additional seven grand into his parents’ bank account. He’d held firm on the amount, even when she’d insisted they needed at least ten thousand.
“Be reasonable, Alec. How can your father and I have a proper vacation with so little to spend?” she’d demanded.
“Order a glass of wine with dinner instead of a magnum of champagne,” he’d suggested. “And don’t buy a round of drinks for the entire nightclub.”
“You’re such a stick in the mud, Alec. All you do is work. You don’t know how to have fun,” Brooke had sighed before relenting and hanging up.
His parents would have their vacation, and he would have a little peace and quiet—a reprieve of sorts until the next phone call reporting a crisis. And there would be another one, Alec knew. They came as regularly as gusts of wind in Chicago.
Thinking of the conversation now, he assured Julia, “I know how to enjoy myself away from the office.”
“Yes. That came through in the article,” Julia replied dryly. “Your ex-girlfriend mentioned that the pair of you enjoyed first-class travel, fine dining, golf.”
“Is there something wrong with that?” He might not take vacations as often as his parents or for as long as they did, but when he took one, he enjoyed himself.
The corners of her mouth turned down in consideration. Julia had nice lips. Soft. Full. They were one of her most inviting facial features...even when she was frowning at him. “On the surface, not a thing. Except that her children weren’t involved.”
His voice rose and, despite his best efforts, his tone turned defensive. “Laurel didn’t want them involved. That was her call. It was her decision.”
At nine and eleven, Laurel’s two daughters were miniature versions of their mother, and as such, extremely high-maintenance, which was why Laurel preferred to leave them to their nanny.
“Did you ever try to change her mind?”
“Does it matter?” he asked.
“To me? No. To the public, it would, yes.”
He exhaled in frustration now. “Look, I’ve never claimed to be a family man. I’m a businessman. A damned good one, in fact, which is why Best For Baby brought me on board. The company needed a qualified executive. My personal life shouldn’t be an issue.”
“It wouldn’t be if you hadn’t opened your mouth and made it one,” Julia shot back without missing a beat. “Which brings us back to square one, Alec.”
He cursed and returned to his seat. He hated that she was right. As he scrubbed a hand down his face, Julia was saying, “You can’t change what you said. It’s on the record and will be winging around cyberspace indefinitely. What we can change is your image going forward.”
“I know.” His hand fell away, but it curled into a fist at his side, mirroring the position of the left one.
“Good.” She continued to drive home the point. Her tone became instructional, perhaps to offset the censure inherent in her words. “To the baby-product-buying public, you are the epitome of a playboy. You have the position and enough power and wealth to subsidize a very adult lifestyle. It doesn’t hurt that you grew up in privilege.”
He snorted at that. Sometimes privilege was just another word for lonely.
She was saying, “Golf, fine dining, first-class travel at all-inclusive resorts not known for their child-friendly amenities—these are very adult activities. As such, they aren’t going to help us convince the broader public that you understand family life or its particular needs.”
“So you’re going to have me be seen out and about in public, kissing babies. Got it.” He sighed and made his hands unclench.
“That’s not exactly the attitude I’m hoping you’ll project.”
“I’ll work on it,” he grumbled.
She made a humming noise. Then her gaze narrowed. “How about a test run this evening?”
He frowned. “I’m not following you.”
“What do you have on your schedule for six o’clock?”
He did a mental check of his calendar. “A meeting with the head of the accounting department at five to go over some expense report irregularities. I don’t know if it will be concluded by then.”
“Really? A meeting after regular business hours? You can’t be a very popular boss.” She shook her head, forestalling his reply. “Can you reschedule it?”
“I guess so,” he said slowly. “Why?”
Those full lips bloomed into a smile that managed to be sexy despite the calculating gleam in her eyes. “Have you ever been to a T-ball game?”
* * *
What was she thinking, inviting Alec to join her at the game?
Julia asked herself the question a dozen times as she maneuvered through traffic after picking up her children from St. Augustine’s after-school program. Her goal was that Danielle and Colin never had to spend more than two hours there on any given day. Except during the summer. In another week, the school year would wrap up, and her children would be spending three days a week there, with the other two at their grandparents’ just outside the city.
Guilt nipped, as it always did, even though it couldn’t be helped. She was a working mother, the sole breadwinner. The after-school program wasn’t a bad one. The kids went on field trips to places such as Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History, Navy Pier and the John C. Shedd Aquarium. But before they were born, Julia had pictured their lives differently. She’d planned to be a stay-at-home mom. For a brief time she had been. Then Scott had gotten sick and plans had changed.
“What’s for dinner?” Colin asked from the backseat as she brought the car to a stop at a light.
“Turkey grinders from Howard’s Deli,” Julia replied, deciding not to add that they would be on whole wheat buns with slices of tomato and green peppers and shredded lettuce to at least make them a somewhat balanced meal.
In the rearview mirror, she watched his face scrunch up. “Can’t it be cheeseburgers? Please, please, please!”
Danielle sighed, and in a superior tone, said, “He only wants the toy that comes with the children’s meal.”
She was nine, going on nineteen. It scared Julia sometimes, how serious and mature her daughter could be.
“You’ve got that line between your eyebrows, Mommy,” Colin observed. “Does that mean you’re thinking about it?”
To ward off further argument, Julia said, “Maybe.”
A snort sounded from the backseat. “When parents say they’re thinking about something or use the word maybe, it means no,” Danielle said. “Mom has been thinking about letting me go to art camp for a month now.”
Julia caught a glimpse of her daughter’s mutinous expression. “I am thinking about it. I haven’t ruled it out, Danielle.”
Where the camp was located and how much it cost weren’t what caused Julia’s stomach to drop. A full week away? Could Danielle handle that? Could Julia?
“I really want to go,” her daughter said quietly.
“I want to go, too!” Colin shouted. “Can I go, too, Mommy?”
“You can’t,” Danielle insisted. “It’s not for babies. Besides, you can’t even color inside the lines!”
Colin sent up a wail that rivaled a fire truck’s siren. By the time they reached the baseball diamond fifty-five minutes and one stop at the deli later, Julia had a raging headache. She barely had a chance to shift the car into Park before Colin was unbuckled and out the door.
“Hey! Come back and get your bag!” she called after him before he could get too far.
Julia had enough to tote, what with lawn chairs and a portable canopy that she kept on hand to shield them from the blazing afternoon sun. Danielle was of little help since she was carrying the bottles of water they’d picked up at the deli.
As Julia slammed the trunk closed, a slick, black sports coupe with tinted windows pulled into the parking space next to hers. It came as no surprise when Alec unfolded himself from the driver’s side of the
foreign-made two-seater. If a car could scream “no kids,” this one would.
He was still dressed in a suit, although he’d thought to loosen his tie. Mirrored, designer lenses shaded his eyes. His appearance said important. It said, I wield power. He looked like anything but a fun-loving family man.
“I’ve got my work cut out for me,” Julia muttered and forced a smile.
It didn’t help that the first words out of his mouth were a complaint. “It’s broiling out here.”
“Be thankful we’re the home team today. Fans of the visiting team will be looking straight into the sun for the entire game.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
She shrugged. “I told you to change your clothes.”
She had, happily trading in heels and a skirt for shorts and flat sandals when they’d grabbed dinner at the deli. “This is T-ball.”
“I didn’t have time to stop off at my apartment if I wanted make it here on time. Our meeting earlier aside, I do try to be punctual.”
She nodded her acceptance of what she figured he intended as an apology. “You might want to lose the suit coat.”
“No need to say that twice.”
As Alec shrugged out of it, she tried not to stare, but her gaze was pulled to the firm upper body showcased in the tailored cotton dress shirt. Genetics alone weren’t responsible for those shoulders or that chest. He might spend a lot of hours behind a desk, but he made time for exercise. When her gaze returned to his face, she realized he was watching her. One side of his mouth was lifted in amusement. Heat that had nothing to do with the soaring mercury suffused her face.
She cleared her throat. “The tie, too,” she added after he carefully laid the jacket over his car’s seat.
“You’re the expert.”
He freed the tie with a gentle tug. Even though they were out in public, the gesture came across as intimate.
What was she thinking?
This time, the question Julia posed to herself had nothing to do with her spontaneous invitation to the T-ball game and everything to do with feminine awareness. Hormones she’d forgotten she had, started to sizzle and snap to life. It was ridiculous. It was a relief, a small voice whispered. Flustered, Julia glanced away, only to have her gaze land on Danielle, who was watching her, too.
“Who is this?” her daughter demanded bluntly.
Julia would have a word with her later about her manners. For now she said, “This is Mr. McAvoy. He’s a client. Alec, these are my children, Danielle and Colin.”
Danielle was undeterred. “Why is he here?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Colin said. “He wants to watch my game.”
“That’s right, champ.” Alec touched the brim of her son’s cap. The gesture came off as choreographed and his words sounded overly enthusiastic. While Julia gave him points for trying, his awkwardness around kids came through loud and clear.
Danielle rolled her eyes.
“We’re not champs.” Colin lowered his squeaky voice to a confidential whisper. “Just so you know, for T-ball, they don’t even keep score.”
“Oh.” Alec glanced over at Julia, his expression not so much sheepish as unnerved. No doubt about it. He was operating outside his comfort zone.
“Why is he here, Mom?” Danielle demanded again.
“Danielle,” Julia replied in a tone that was stern despite being soft. She sent an apologetic smile in Alec’s direction.
“It’s all right.”
It wasn’t, but Julia told her daughter, “Mr. McAvoy
doesn’t have children, but he needs to know a little bit more about them for his job. So, I have agreed to help him.”
“You’re not dating, though. Right?”
“No!”
“Good.” What was that supposed to mean? Danielle didn’t give Julia much of a chance to wonder, before adding, “So, we’re guinea pigs?”
“Actually, I think I’m the guinea pig,” Alec replied.
Danielle’s brows drew together in consideration. “Kids are a lot of work, you know.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Think you’re up to it?” she asked baldly. “Most single men aren’t.”
He glanced over at Julia, who smiled weakly. She’d never said as much out loud, but she was left to wonder if that was the message she’d been telegraphing.
“I hope so,” he answered. “My job is sort of depending on it.”
“You came to the right person,” Colin assured him with a gap-toothed grin. “Our mom knows everything.”
Alec wasn’t much for know-it-alls, but when they looked like Julia Stillwell, he was willing to make an exception, especially if her efforts succeeded in turning around his public image and professional future.
He had to admit, her kids seemed bright and well-adjusted...if a little outspoken in the daughter’s case. The apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree apparently. It was clear Julia loved them and, just as importantly, put them first. That was something his ex-girlfriend hadn’t done. Something his parents had never managed. The fact that she kicked off early on a regular basis and was willing to sit outside in the broiling sun at a T-ball game was proof of that. He couldn’t help wondering, what had happened to Mr. Stillwell?
The kids tumbled on ahead, Colin hoisting his equipment bag, Danielle carrying the water bottles.
Alec remembered his manners then.
“Can I carry something?”
“You can. Thanks.” Julia handed over a portable canopy. It folded up into a duffel bag that measured nearly four feet long. Alec frowned as he hefted it to his shoulder.
“This is heavy.”
“You can take the chairs, if you’d prefer.”
He bristled a little at that. “I’m not complaining. I’m just surprised you were able to carry this.” He
nodded to the chairs and her oversized purse. “And all that, too.”
“I’m a mom. We tote stuff around all the time.” She didn’t appear insulted as much as amused.
And sexy. Yeah, definitely sexy, with her sleek arms loaded in such a way that the strain caused her cotton T-shirt to pull across her breasts.
“Do I look frail?” she asked.
“You look...fit.” It wasn’t what he planned to say, but Alec figured the first adjective that had popped to mind might get him smacked.
They made their way to the diamond. Three small trees were staggered behind the home team’s bench. Every square inch of the meager shade they provided was occupied with people on blankets or seated in folding chairs.
“You’ve got to get here early to score a spot in the shade,” she said, noting the direction of his gaze. She nodded to the duffel bag he carried. “That’s why I bring my own. I learned that lesson the hard way the first year Danielle played.”
Her daughter had stopped to talk to a couple of girls who looked to be about her age.
“Does she still play?” Alec asked. She was a cute little thing despite her penchant for speaking her mind.
“T-ball? Not anymore. Too old. She played one year of coach-pitch baseball, but now she’s into soccer. She has a game on Saturday.”
“Are you telling me I need to clear my schedule again?” he teased.
Julia’s tone was thoughtful. “We’ll see. You might need another dry run, so to speak, before I turn you loose on kids who are more impressionable than mine.”
It was an interesting assessment. Alec wanted to be insulted, but before he could express any indignation, Julia was calling for her son to stop playing in the chalky dirt next to the home team’s bench. A couple of the other kids were doing the same thing, and their parents were after them too as soon as a stifling breeze kicked up and began carrying the dust out toward the spectators.
“Serious ballplayers, I see.”
The kids all wore bright orange jerseys and ball caps, sporting the sponsor’s name. If they were bothered by the heat or the now gritty air, they didn’t show it.
Julia laughed. The sound was pleasant, as was the way humor lit up her eyes and caused the dimples to dent her cheeks.
“Wait till they let ground balls slip by in the outfield because they’re too busy picking dandelions, or the game has to be stopped for a few minutes because the batter has lost a tooth.” She stopped walking and set down the chairs. “This is a good spot.”
Five minutes and one pinched finger later, the canopy was up and they were ensconced in a pair of relatively comfortable lawn chairs underneath it. Out of the sun, the heat was almost tolerable.
“How’s your finger?” she inquired politely. She’d been scanning the area, waving to this person and calling out a greeting to that one. All the while, she kept an eye on her kids.
Alec studied the purplish welt just between the first and second knuckles on his index finger. “No worse than my pride. How do you get this thing up by yourself?”
“I don’t. Colin and Danielle are too small to be much help, but I can usually recruit another parent or two to give me a hand.”
As if on cue, a large woman wearing a baseball cap and a shirt emblazoned with Logan’s Mom ambled into view.
“Hey, Julia, I was just making my way over to help when I saw you didn’t need me. So, who’s your new friend?”
She grinned at Alec, openly curious. He’d already noticed some of the parents casting furtive glances his way. Julia was going to have some explaining to do at the next game, he figured, amused.
“This is Alec McAvoy. He’s a...business associate. Alec, this is Karen Croswell. She’s—”
“Logan’s mom,” he finished for her.
Karen glanced down at her well-endowed chest. Her son’s name began to jiggle with her accompanying laughter. When her gaze returned to Alec’s it held as much feminine interest as it did humor.
“So, you and Julia know one another through work, hmm?”
“That’s right.”
Julia cleared her throat. “Alec is a client. I invited him along so he could get a feel for what parents go through.”
The explanation filled in some blanks while also being cryptic enough to raise more questions.
“Oh? Are you and your wife expecting a child?”
He decided it was easier just to play along with her fishing expedition. “No kids, no wife.”
Although it was true, he didn’t appreciate the way Julia added, “Alec is married to his career.”
If she’d been trying to warn off Karen, it backfired. “So you’re just a client of Julia’s.”
“Right.”
“Yep. That’s all,” Julia agreed.
Karen’s eyes lit up like twin Christmas trees. “Like Julia, here, I’m a single mom. That’s why the two of us stick together at T-ball games. We help each other out with things like raising canopies. The other moms have husbands to give them a hand.”
He glanced at Julia. Her expression was inscrutable. “Julia looks like she manages just fine. She’s—”
“Fit,” Julia finished for him. “Or so I’ve been told.”
“I meant it as a compliment.”
“And I took it as one.”
Alec wondered.
Karen, who’d been watching their exchange, was frowning. Confused no doubt. He couldn’t say he blamed her.
She said, “Julia is a lot more resourceful than I am. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“You’d be fine, Karen,” Julia replied with a patient smile. Then added, “Are Logan’s allergies flaring up again? He looks like he could use a tissue before the game starts.”
Karen withdrew, but not before shaking Alec’s hand again. “It was really nice to meet you. Maybe I’ll see you again. I’d be happy to help you research what parents go through.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Karen comes on a little...strong, but she has a good heart,” Julia remarked when they were alone again.
“She seemed...nice.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“She’s not your type, I gather.”
“No.” He said it slowly, mentally glancing around for land mines.
“Kids can be a turnoff.”
Uh-oh. “My interest or lack thereof in this case has nothing to do with her being a single mother.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’ll date women with children, as long as nannies are involved.”
Forget land mines. It was his temper that was threatening to blow now. Alec counted to ten. Even then his tone was sharp. “That’s not fair.”
She shrugged, unbothered by either his tone or his assertion. “That’s how you come across to the baby-product-buying public.”
Only the baby-product-buying public? he wondered. But he said, “As I already told you, I didn’t have anything against Laurel’s children, and they certainly weren’t the reason things between us ended.” At
Julia’s raised brows, he added, “The relationship simply ran its course.”
Julia nodded. But did she believe him? And why did he care if she did?
“Are you seeing anyone now?” she surprised him by asking.
“That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”
“Personal, but relevant. So, are you?”
“No. I’m between relationships.” He waited a beat, then asked, “What about you?”
“That’s both personal and irrelevant.”
Alec ground his molars together. God, the woman was exasperating. And he had to work with her for who knew how long. It was just his luck.
“Let’s get back to your friend Karen. As I said, she seems nice enough, but I’m not interested. Attraction is hard to quantify.” His instantaneous attraction to the prickly woman seated beside him being a case in point. “I date women I find engaging, exciting.”
“And deep, no doubt.”
Julia’s lips twitched, leaving him with the impression she was laughing at him.
“You think I’m shallow?”
She sobered at that and glanced away. “I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m not being paid to pass judgments.”
Her answer was hardly reassuring. She pointed in the direction her friend had gone.
“For the record, Karen’s ex is a total deadbeat.
Gordie hasn’t seen Logan or their girls in more than a year, nor has he paid child support. If not for Karen’s parents, Logan wouldn’t have a roof over his head, much less be playing T-ball. So, she tends to come on a little strong when she realizes a man is both unmarried and gainfully employed.”
Bitterness welled in Alec’s throat as he recalled his own childhood. Even parents who stayed married could be deadbeats, he thought.
“You’ll have to work on that,” Julia remarked. Her tone was clipped.
“What?”
“That look of supreme distaste. She’s not a gold digger. She’s just looking for companionship and a father figure for her kids.”
He didn’t bother trying to correct Julia’s assumption that he’d been thinking about Karen. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his parents. Instead, he decided to shift the focus of their conversation. “What about you? You’re a single mom, too. Are you looking for those things?”
She shook her head. Despite the heat, her tone was pure frost when she replied, “My kids and I are fine on our own.”
THREE
The game ended. The crowd dispersed. Alec helped Julia take down the canopy and carry it back to her car.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said.
He nodded. “Nice meeting you,” he said to her kids, adding, “Good game,” for Colin’s benefit.
“We got creamed.”
Alec frowned. “I thought you said no one keeps score.”
“The coaches don’t, but Noah Wilson’s dad does. He said it was a massacre, and we need to work on our catching.”
“Oh.”
“There’s one of those dads on every team,” Julia muttered.
“Do you know much about baseball?” Colin asked. “Maybe we could play catch some time.”
“Um...” Alec’s gaze cut to her.
Julia knew panic when she saw it. “Mr. McAvoy is a busy man, Colin.”
Colin nodded at the explanation. “Oh. Okay.” To Alec he said, “That’s too bad. Everybody should have enough time to play catch once in awhile.”
They went their separate ways after that, but Alec remained on Julia’s mind for the rest of the evening.
She considered herself a good judge of character. As such, she’d thought she’d had Alec pegged after their meeting in her office, her opinion reinforced by the fact that he’d arrived late and had come across as both obstinate and arrogant.
Then, at the baseball diamond, he’d showed up in his snazzy two-seater, wearing a tailored suit and silk tie, and looking as out of place as a car salesman at a cyclist convention. Her initial opinion had seemed on target, especially after their conversation about his dating habits. She’d probed a bit more than usual—all of it work-related, she assured herself.
But then, once the game got under way, he’d surprised her.
Julia wouldn’t say he’d ever managed to look comfortable sitting with her in the manufactured shade of the canopy. Or that he’d understood the point of a ball game in which no one kept score and even the parents on the opposing team clapped for all the little sluggers as they took their turn at the tee to bat. But he’d appeared so intrigued by it.
“Didn’t you play baseball when you were a kid?” she’d asked him at one point.
His tone had been an odd combination of wistfulness and resignation when he’d replied, “Not really. Not like this.”
Julia was the one intrigued then.
So, that night, after her kids went to bed, she stayed up not only to pour over her plans for his public reincarnation, but also to read his biography, both what his company had provided and what she could glean on her own from the internet.
By all accounts, Alec McAvoy had grown up in privilege—attending a couple of East Coast boarding schools before moving on to an Ivy League education with a stint abroad between his undergraduate degree in finance and his MBA in business. His paternal grandparents were old money and owned a summer home on Nantucket. From the photographs, it was far grander than the cozy beach house Julia and Scott had once dreamed about buying on Lake Michigan.
Alec’s parents, meanwhile, were fixtures at parties thrown by Hollywood A-listers, socialites and European high rollers. At one point, rumors had swirled about Peter and Brooke McAvoy’s finances running low, but it hadn’t seemed to slow them down. On the internet, Julia ran across a picture of them snapped just six months earlier in which they were sunbathing on the deck of a yacht anchored off Corfu. The yacht belonged to a Greek shipping magnate. She also ran across photograph after photograph of the elder
McAvoys among the glitterati. The pictures stretched back well over a decade. If they were broke, they were doing a poor imitation of it.
Alec, of course, was wealthy in his own right. As the CEO of Best For Baby, he earned seven figures, and then there was the not so small matter of the fortune he’d inherited from his grandfather after the man’s death half a decade earlier. The silver spoon he’d been born with had never had a chance to tarnish, much less be removed.
She stared at his photo on her computer screen. Alec McAvoy had it all: wealth, good looks, lofty connections and power. He also had a PR problem the size of the Titanic. And that was why the Best For Baby board had hired her, Julia reminded herself as she switched off the computer just after midnight and stumbled off to bed, taking with her a printout of the damning article that had started the current controversy. She practically knew it by heart, but she wanted to be sure she hadn’t missed any subtext that could be used in the rebuttal articles she planned to plant in various media outlets starting Monday.
She nodded off one paragraph in and then dreamed about him...in a not-so-professional way.
They were in her office, the door closed, the blinds at the window behind her desk pulled—not to cut the glare of the sun, but for privacy. Her hair was loose, her lips slick with red gloss. She wore a strapless, snug-fitting dress and dangerously high heels—neither of which was inappropriate for the workplace. It wasn’t only the clothing that Julia didn’t recognize. Who was this hypersexualized version of herself?
As for Alec, he was smiling—that smug, amused expression that managed to be both annoying and sexy at the same time.
“Come here,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Even though Julia wasn’t one to take orders, she stepped closer at his command, stopping an arm’s length away. His tie was askew, his shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his arms. Her gaze wandered to his belt buckle and the revealing fit of his trousers. She wasn’t quite successful at biting back a moan.
When she glanced up, his green eyes had turned molten with interest. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her that way. A long time since she’d wanted a man to look at her that way.
“Closer. Come closer, Julia.”
This time his words were more dare than order. A shiver of excitement ran through her, followed by anticipation, as she closed the distance.
He lifted his hand, reaching for her.
“Julia,” he said softly.
She jolted awake at his touch, scattering the papers that had been in her slack grip. After scrubbing a hand over her face, she gathered the printouts together and put them on her bedside table. Then she got up for a drink of water. Her throat was dry and her body was on fire. She felt foolish, juvenile. Most damning of all, she was turned on.
It was a reasonable reaction, she assured herself. An understandable response. She might be a professional consultant under contract to polish Alec’s tarnished public image, but she also was a woman—a healthy, adult woman—with needs that had gone unfulfilled for a very, very long time. Alec was handsome and on her mind thanks to work. So, she’d dreamed about him. Big deal. It wasn’t as if anything had happened while she was awake and, as such, fully responsible for her actions.
Even so, she turned on the faucet again. Instead of refilling her glass, this time she cupped her hands under the cold water and splashed it on her face.
On the way back from the bathroom, she checked on her children, stopping first in one doorway and then the one next to it. The bedrooms were identical in size and layout, with the twin beds located directly across from the door. Danielle was curled up on her side, one slim arm wrapped around her pillow. Next door, Colin was stretched out on his bed with his arms flung wide, as if he were attempting to embrace not only the room, but also the world beyond. Like his sister, he looked so relaxed, so...angelic.
Julia smiled, relieved to find her footing again. First and foremost, she was a mother. Her kids were her life. They were all she needed, she assured herself. But after she slipped back into bed, it was hard to ignore how empty the other side of it suddenly seemed.
* * *
“Alec, please. They’re this season’s Kellen Montgomery sunglasses,” his mother whined on the other end of the line. “You’re not being fair. I can’t be expected to go on my trip without sunglasses.”
Brooke probably had six dozen pairs of designer shades, each one pricier than the last. He didn’t bother to point this out. He knew from past experience that using reason with his spendaholic mother would be futile.
It was not quite ten o’clock on Saturday morning, he was in his office, and already his left temple was starting to throb with what promised to be one doozy of a headache. Not even twenty-four hours had passed since Brooke’s last call seeking funds. He’d given in then. This time, he held firm.
“No.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” she accused.
He nearly laughed at that. Instead, he said, “No, what I’m being is responsible.”
Brooke continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “It’s our money.”
“Which Granddad has left me in charge of managing,” he pointed out for the umpteenth time.
“And you’re turning out to be even more of a tightfisted killjoy than that old man was!”
Alec rubbed his temple. He could feel the blood pounding under the pads of his fingers. “Fine. I’m a tightfisted killjoy.” He’d been called worse, especially lately. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I need to get back to work, since apparently earning a living and then living within one’s means are concepts that skipped a generation.”
That barb generated a grunt of disapproval. Still, his mother’s tone switched from irate to what passed for maternal concern when she said, “Seriously, Alec, I worry about you. Here it is, a Saturday morning—the weekend—and you’re talking about work.” There was a slight pause. He pictured Brooke shaking her head. “I don’t know where your father and I went wrong. It’s not natural, working on the weekend. Weekends are for fun. What happened between you and Laurel? She was such a nice young woman. And she knew how to have a good time. I liked her.”
No wonder, he thought. Birds of a feather. His mother and Laurel had met on only one occasion and had hit it off immediately, comparing notes on their favorite designers.
“She wasn’t my type.” As soon as he said it, Julia sprang to mind, which was odd. She wasn’t his type, either.
“That’s because Laurel had a social life,” Brooke remarked sulkily.
“I guess that was the reason,” he agreed, hoping to shorten the conversation.
It came as an unwelcome realization that there was some truth to his mother’s barb. Laurel did know how to have fun and, just like his mother, her social life came at the expense of her children.
“They’ll just be bored and in the way,” Laurel had said the one time he’d asked if she wanted to bring them out to dinner.
It had been her choice to exclude them whenever they went out for an evening or away for a weekend. He’d told Julia as much. So, why did it bother him now that he’d been only too happy with her decision? Or that he couldn’t help thinking that Julia Stillwell would never view her kids as being “in the way”?
* * *
Julia had strict rules against going to the office on weekends, but that didn’t prevent her from doing a little work at home, as long as it didn’t interfere with her children. She’d meant it when she’d told Alec that her career didn’t define her, but she took her job seriously—she couldn’t afford not to. It was how she’d earned her reputation, and why a company as large as Best For Baby had sought out her expertise. Sometimes that meant bending herself into the shape of a pretzel or forgoing a good night’s sleep to get everything done that needed to get done. She’d long ago accepted that and made fast friends with caffeine.
So midmorning, while her kids were seated at the kitchen table, busy working on homework, she sipped freshly brewed Colombian Supreme from a mug and dialed Alec’s office. She planned to leave a message on his voice mail. She had his cell number, but hadn’t wanted to bother him off hours. She should have known better. He answered on the third ring, sounding distracted and slightly disgruntled at the interruption.
“McAvoy here.”
Caught off guard—and with a mouthful of coffee—she sputtered after swallowing, “A-Alec. Hi. It’s Julia Stillwell.” She blushed, recalling the dream, and was thankful that he couldn’t see her and question her on her reaction.
“Julia.” There was a brief pause during which she pictured him leaning back in his chair. Was he smiling? Then he said, “I was just thinking about you.”
The heat suffusing her face spread to other parts of her body at that. She didn’t care for the tug of excitement his words elicited. Still, she asked, “You were?”
“Yeah. I ordered a bagel and coffee from the deli up the block more than an hour ago and the deliveryman just showed up ten minutes ago, despite the promise I’d have my order in less than thirty minutes. Clearly, he could benefit from a lecture on the importance of punctuality.”
She gritted her teeth at the amusement in Alec’s tone since it came her expense. But his response was just what she needed to banish that dream. “I hope you didn’t tip him well.”
“Actually, I did. He said his bike had a flat tire and he was apologetic.”
“Well, if he was apologetic...” She left it at that, figuring she’d made her point.
“Sorry goes a long way, doesn’t it?” Alec replied amiably.
“Only when it’s offered immediately and is sincere.”
Deep laughter rumbled. “And if I told you I had a flat tire on the way to our first meeting and that was why I was late, would you still hold it against me?”
“Did you?”
“No.”
In spite of herself, she chuckled at his candid response. “You were late because you didn’t want to be there, Alec. And the apology you offered was offhanded at best.”
“I didn’t want to be there,” he agreed. “But that’s not why I was late.”
“Then what’s your excuse?”
Several beats of silence followed. “I had to take a call from my mother.”
Julia snorted. “Right.”
“So cynical.” He made a tsking noise. “So, what are you doing working on a Saturday? I recall someone telling me something about how work wasn’t her main priority. ‘It’s what I do, not who I am,’ or some such rebuke. But maybe I misunderstood.”
She ignored the barb. “I came across a few articles that I thought you might find enlightening.”
They were about child-rearing and what new parents could expect. She figured Alec could use the insight, both into what made children act the way they did and what parents went through as a result. Of course, no one really understood parenthood until they were in the trenches, living it day to day. At that point, all of the diatribes from a childless person were relegated to the trash heap.
“Are you at your office?” he asked as if she hadn’t spoken.
“On a Saturday? No way.” Then she couldn’t resist needling him. “I may decide to slip in a little work here and there on a weekend, but, unlike you, I do it from home. While I’ve been surfing the internet for information, my kids have been occupied finishing up their homework.”
“Homework! On a Saturday? That’s worse than making a high-paid corporate executive stay late for a meeting,” he told her, alluding to the remark she’d made about Alec scheduling after-hours meetings with his staff. “And you called me unpopular.”
Through the beveled glass door of the closet-sized room that served as her home office, Julia could see into the kitchen. At the table, Colin was copying down his spelling words and Danielle was working on math problems. Their sour expressions made it clear that neither one of them was happy with her at the moment.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jackie-braun/must-like-kids/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.