by Susan Meier
She pulled in a breath and said, “That’s ridiculous.”
“Not really. When I retire, the option to take over Carson Services will be Sarah’s. She’ll need to be prepared. Only I can prepare her.”
“But your son—”
“Never wanted the job. It falls to Sarah.”
Overwhelmed, Grace shook her head. “This is too much in one day. I never even considered the possibility that you wanted to know I’d had a baby. Yet the day you find out, you’re suddenly demanding custody.”
“I don’t have any other choice.”
Grace sat in stunned silence. The whole hell of it was he didn’t want Sarah. He wasn’t asking for any reason except to fulfill a duty. Which was just wonderful. Grace would lose the baby she adored to a man who didn’t want her, a man who intended to train her for a job. Not to love and nurture her, but to assure there was someone to take over the family business.
The injustice of it suffocated Grace at the same time that she understood it. Danny might not want Sarah, but he had a responsibility to her and to his family.
She wondered if he really needed to live with Sarah to teach her, then unexpectedly understood his side again. Preparing to take over a family fortune required more than a formal education. It required knowledge of family history and traditions. It required social graces. It required building social relationships.
All of which Grace didn’t have. Sarah had to live with him at least part of the time.
Part of the time.
Suddenly inspired, Grace said, “You know what? I think I have a compromise.”
“I don’t compromise.”
No kidding.
“Okay, then maybe what I have is a deal to propose.”
His eyes narrowed ominously. “I don’t need a deal, either.”
“Well, listen anyway. The problem I see is that you don’t know Sarah—”
“Living together will take care of that.”
“Just listen. You don’t know Sarah. I don’t think you really want her. You’re asking for custody out of a sense of duty and responsibility not to her but to your family, and, as bad as it is for my cause, I understand it. But as Sarah’s mother I can’t let you take my baby when you don’t want her. So what I’m going to propose is that you come to live with Sarah and me for the next two weeks.”
His face scrunched in confusion. “How exactly would that help?”
“If nothing else, in two weeks, I’ll get to know you and you’ll get to know her. Especially since I don’t have a housekeeper or nanny. You and I will be the ones to care for her.”
His shrewd brown eyes studied her, as if he were trying to think of the catch. Since there was no catch, Grace continued.
“The deal is if you can spend two weeks with us, learning to care for her, and if at the end of that two weeks I feel comfortable with you having her, I won’t contest shared custody. Week about. I get her one week. You have her the next. That way, as she gets older, you can schedule the functions you think she needs to be involved in, and I won’t have to give her over to you permanently.”
Danny shook his head. “Grace—”
“I won’t give her over to you permanently. Not for any reason. Not any way. The best you’ll get from me is week about and only if I believe you can handle her.”
“You’re not in a position to name terms,” Danny said, shaking his head. “I can beat you in court.”
“And then what?” Grace asked barely holding onto her temper. This time yesterday he didn’t know he had a daughter. This time last year he didn’t want to even hear Grace was pregnant. He couldn’t expect her to hand over their child. She’d spend every cent of money she had before she’d recklessly hand over her baby to a man who didn’t want Sarah, a man who probably would keep his distance and never love her.
“Say you do beat me in court. What are you going to do? Pass off your daughter’s care to nannies, and let her be raised by a stranger when she could be spending that time with her mother? Is that your idea of grooming her? Showing her how to walk all over people?”
He ran his hand along the back of his neck.
She had him. They might not have spent much time together, but she’d noticed that when he rubbed the back of his neck, he was thinking.
“It sure as hell isn’t my idea of how to teach her,” Grace said quietly, calming down so he would, too. “If nothing else, admit you need some time to adjust to being her dad.”
He sighed. “You want two weeks?”
“If you can’t handle her for two weeks, how do you expect to have her permanently?”
Danny said nothing and Grace retraced her argument, trying to figure out why two weeks made him hesitate. A person who wanted full custody couldn’t object to a mere two-week stay with the same baby he was trying to get custody of—
Unless he wasn’t worried about two weeks with Sarah as much as he was worried about two weeks with Grace. The last time they’d spent three days together they’d ended up in bed.
The air suddenly filled with electricity, so much that Grace could almost see the crackles and sparks. Memories—not of his accusations when she told him she was pregnant, but his soft caresses that Sunday night and Monday morning—flooded her mind and the attraction she’d felt the weekend they’d spent together returned full force.
But she didn’t want it. She did not want to be attracted to this man. He’d come right out and said he didn’t want a relationship with her. Plus, he had clout that she didn’t have. Grace needed all her facilities to fight for Sarah’s interests. She couldn’t risk that he’d push her around in court the way he’d steamrolled her when she told him she was pregnant.
The reminder of how he’d kicked her out of his office without hearing her out was all she needed. Her chin came up. Her spine stiffened. She would never, ever trust him again. She would never give in to the attraction again.
“You’re perfectly safe with me. Our time together was a mistake. I wouldn’t even speak to you were it not for Sarah.”
He remained silent so long that Grace sighed with disgust. He hadn’t had a clue how painful his words had been to her. He hadn’t cared that she could have misinterpreted everything he’d said and drawn the conclusion that he’d had his fun with her but she wasn’t good enough to really love. He’d been so wrapped up in his own wants and needs that he never considered hers.
Or anyone’s as far as Grace knew.
Another reason to stay the hell away from him.
“I mean it, Danny. I want nothing to do with you and will fight tooth and nail before I let you take Sarah even for weekends if only because you’re a virtual stranger.”
Obviously controlling his anger, he looked at the ceiling then back at her. “If I spend two weeks with you and the baby you won’t contest shared custody,” he said, repeating what he believed to be their arrangement.
“If by the end of those two weeks I believe you’ll be good to Sarah.”
Sarah had stopped sucking. Grace glanced down to see the baby had fallen asleep in her arms. “If you wish, we can have our lawyers draw up papers.”
“Oh, I will have my lawyer write an agreement.”
“Great. Once we get it signed we can start.”
“You’ll have it tonight. Do you have an email address?”
“Yes.”
“Watch your computer. You’ll have the agreement before you go to bed. You can email me directions to your house and I’ll be there tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FIVE
WHEN GRACE RECEIVED Danny’s email with their agreement as an attachment, she realized that no matter how simple and straightforward, she couldn’t sign any legal document without the advice of counsel. She replied saying she wanted her own lawyer to review the agreement before she
signed it, expecting him to be angry at the delay. Instead he was surprisingly accommodating of her request.
She spoke with a lawyer Monday morning, who gave her the go-ahead to sign, and emailed Danny that she had executed the agreement and he could sign it that evening when he arrived at her house.
Busy at work, she didn’t give Danny or the agreement another thought until she walked into the foyer of her little bungalow and saw something she hadn’t considered.
The downstairs of her house had an open floor plan. Pale orange ceramic tile ran from the foyer to the back door. An oatmeal-colored Berber area rug sat beneath the burnt-orange tweed sofa and the matching love seat, delineating that space. Similarly the tan, brown and black print rug beneath the oak table and chairs marked off the dining area. A black-and-tan granite-topped breakfast bar separated the living room from the kitchen, but because there were no cabinets above it, people in the kitchen were clearly visible from any point downstairs.
Grace wasn’t afraid that Danny wouldn’t like her home. She didn’t give a damn if he liked it or not. What troubled her was that with the exception of the two bedrooms, both upstairs, there was nowhere to hide. Anytime they were downstairs they would technically be together.
“Well, Sarah,” she said, sliding the baby out of her carrier seat and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. In her yellow one-piece outfit, Sarah looked like a ray of sunshine. “I guess it’s too late to worry about that now.”
As the words came out of her mouth, the doorbell rang, and Grace winced. If that was Danny, it really was too late to worry about the close quarters of her house now.
Angling the baby on her hip, Grace walked to the door and opened it. Danny stood on her small porch, holding a garment bag, with a duffel bag sitting beside his feet. Dressed in jeans and a loose-fitting sport shirt, he looked comfortable and relaxed, reminding her of their time together at his beach house.
A sudden avalanche of emotion overtook her. She had really fallen hard for him that weekend. Not just because he was sexy, though he was. He had an air of power and strength that—combined with his shiny black hair, piercing black eyes and fabulous body—made him one of the sexiest men Grace had ever met. Staring into his eyes, she remembered the way he made love to her. She remembered their pillow talk and their one phone conversation. He had definitely felt something for her that weekend, too, but in the one short week he was out of town he’d lost it. He hadn’t believed her when she told him she was pregnant. He’d kicked her out of his office. And now they were here. Fighting over custody of a baby he hadn’t wanted.
“This house doesn’t look big enough for two people, let alone three.”
“It’s got more space than you think,” Grace said, opening the door a little wider so he could enter, as she reminded herself she had to do this because she couldn’t beat him in court. “It looks like a ranch, but it isn’t. There are two bedrooms upstairs.”
“Yeah, they’re probably no bigger than closets.”
Grace told herself she could do this. She’d dealt with grouchy Danny every time she’d spoken to him—except for that one weekend. The person she’d met that weekend was more likely the exception and grouchy Danny was the rule. She wasn’t about to let their two weeks begin with her apologizing.
Ignoring his closet comment, she said, “Let’s take your bags upstairs and get them out of the way.”
* * *
Grace turned and began walking up the steps, and, following after her, Danny got a flashback of following her up the steps of his beach house. It intensified when he glanced down at the steps to avoid looking at her shapely legs. The memory was so clear it made him dizzy, as if he were stepping back in time.
But he wasn’t. They were here and now, fifteen months later. She’d had his child. She might have done it without him, but ultimately she’d brought the baby to him. And why not? As far as Grace knew little Sarah could inherit a fortune—even before Danny was dead if she became the CEO of Carson Services when Danny retired.
He didn’t want even a portion of the family fortune to go to an opportunist, but his threat of taking Grace to court to get full custody had been empty. An attempt to pressure her into giving him their daughter. Then Grace had come up with a compromise and to Danny’s surprise it really did suit him. He could train Sarah without paying off her mother.
Plus, he no longer had the worry that a custody battle gave her reason to dig into his past.
All he had to do was spend two weeks with Grace, a woman who he believed tricked him.
At the top of the steps, Grace turned to the right, opened a door, and stepped back so he could enter the room. To his surprise, Grace was correct, the bedroom was more spacious than he’d thought from the outward appearance of the house. Even with a double bed in the center of the room, a knotty pine armoire and dresser, and a small desk in the corner, there was plenty of space to walk.
He hesitantly said, “This is nice.”
“We have to share the bathroom.”
He faced her. She’d taken a few steps into the room, as if wanting to be available to answer questions, but not exactly thrilled to be in the same room with him. Especially not a bedroom.
Her soft voice triggered another batch of beach house memories. Grace telling him to promote someone else. Grace looking like an angel in front of the upstairs widows. Grace ready to accept his kiss...
He shoved the memories out of his brain, reminding himself that woman probably didn’t exist. “I’ll keep my things in a shaving kit. I won’t take up any room.”
She turned away from him with a shrug. Walking to the door, she said, “It doesn’t matter one way or the other to me.”
He couldn’t tell if she intended to insult him or prove to him that his being there had no meaning to her beyond their reaching an accord about custody, but the indifference he heard in her voice was just fine with him. He didn’t want to be involved with her any more than she wanted to be involved with him.
Which should make for a fabulous two weeks.
He tossed his duffel bag on the bed and walked the garment bag to the closet before going downstairs. At the bottom of the steps, he realized that the entire first floor of the house was open. He could see Grace puttering in the compact kitchen and Sarah swinging contentedly in the baby swing sitting in the space between the dining area and living room.
Walking to the kitchen, he said, “Anything I can help you with?”
“You’re here for Sarah. So why don’t you amuse her, while I make dinner?”
“Okay.” Her cool tone of voice didn’t affect him because she was correct. He was here for Sarah. Not for Grace. Not to make small talk or plans or, God forbid, even to become friendly.
He glanced at the cooing baby. A trip to the department store that morning to arrange for baby furniture to be delivered to his house had shown him just how behind the times he had become in the nine years that had passed since Cory was a baby. Playpens were now play yards. Car seats had become downright challenging. He didn’t have to be a genius to know that if the equipment had changed, so had the rules. He wouldn’t do anything with Sarah without asking.
“Should I take her out of the seat?”
Pulling a salad bowl from a cabinet, Grace said, “Not when she’s happy. Just sit on the floor in front of her and chat.”
Chat. With a baby. He’d tried that the day Grace brought Sarah to his house and hadn’t known what to say. Obviously he had to think of some
thing to talk about other than investing. But he wasn’t sitting on the floor. After a quick look around, he grabbed one of the oak ladder-back chairs from the table in the dining room section and set it in front of the swing.
“Hey, Sarah.”
She pulled the blue plastic teething ring from her mouth and cooed at him. He smiled and settled more comfortably on the chair as he studied her, trying to think of something to say. Nothing came. She gurgled contently as she waved her arms, sending the scent of baby powder through the air to his nose. That brought a burst of memories of Cory.
He’d been so proud of that kid. So smitten. So enamored with the fun of having a baby that he’d thought his life was perfect. Then Cory had shown artistic ability and Lydia wanted to send him to special school. Danny had thought she was jumping the gun, making a decision that didn’t need to be made until Cory was older.
Taking a breath, Danny forced himself back to the present. He had to stop thinking of Cory. He had to focus on Sarah. He had to create an amicable relationship so their time together would be happy and not a horrible strain.
Then he noticed that the one-piece yellow thing she wore made her hair appear reddish brown. “I think somebody’s going to be a redhead.”
The baby gooed. Danny smiled. Curious, he turned toward the kitchen. “My parents are French and English. So I don’t think the red hair comes from my side of the family. How about yours?”
Grace grudgingly said, “Both of my parents are Scottish.”
“Well, that explains it.”
Danny’s comment fell on total silence. Though he was here for Sarah, he and Grace had two long weeks to spend together. He might not want to be her friend, but he didn’t want to be miserable, either. Studying Grace as she ripped lettuce and tossed it into a bowl, he swore he could see waves of anger emanate from her. It might have been her idea to share custody, but she clearly didn’t want to spend two weeks with him any more than he wanted to spend two weeks with her. He’d forced her hand with the threat of taking her baby away.
