by Susan Meier
He paused, raked his fingers through his hair again and his voice dropped to a feather-light whisper. “A neighbor hit him. She doesn’t come out of her house now. I ruined a lot of lives that morning.”
The tick of the clock was the only sound in the room. Grace stood frozen, steeped in his pain, hurting for him.
“Not quite as sure of me now, are you?”
She swallowed. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He ran his hands down his face. “It was my fault. And I live with it every day. And I miss my son and I remember the look on my wife’s face.” Seeming to be getting his bearings, he blew his breath out on a long gust and faced her. “And I won’t do that to you.”
He headed for the stairway. Panicked, knowing they were only at the tip of this discussion, Grace said, “What if I—”
He stopped at the bottom of the steps. His face bore the hard, cold expression she remembered from the day she told him she was pregnant.
“You don’t get a choice. You don’t get a say. This pain is mine.”
He ran up the steps and Grace collapsed on her sofa. Bending forward, she lifted Sarah from the floor and squeezed her to her chest, suddenly understanding why he didn’t want her digging into his past. It could give her plenty of grounds to keep him from getting custody—even shared. But it also gave her a foot in the door to keep the baby away from him completely.
And she hated to admit she was considering it. Not because of what had happened with his son, but because he couldn’t seem to get beyond it. What did it mean for Sarah that her father wouldn’t let himself love again?
She took a breath, knowing her fears were premature because they had another week to live together, another week for him to recognize that though he didn’t want to forget his son, he also had a daughter who needed him. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
But twenty minutes later he came downstairs, suitcase in hand.
“We have another week to live together.”
“Grace, I’m done.” He shrugged into his jacket. “Besides, I never signed the agreement. This was a mistake anyway.”
With that he opened the door, and stepped out, but he turned one final time and looked at Sarah, then his gaze slowly rose to catch Grace’s. She saw the regret, the pain, the need. Then she watched him quickly erase it as determination filled his dark eyes. He stepped out into the September afternoon, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
* * *
Danny walked into the empty foyer of his huge house and listened to the echo his suitcase made as he set it on the floor, knowing this was the rest of his life, and for the first time totally, honestly, unemotionally committed to accepting it. He wouldn’t risk hurting Grace. Telling his story that afternoon, he remembered in vivid detail how unworthy he was to drag another person into his life. Now that Grace knew his mistake, he didn’t expect to even get visitation with Sarah. He expected to live his life alone, the perfect candidate to serve Carson Services and pass on the family legacy.
To Sarah. A little girl who wouldn’t know him, probably wouldn’t know about Carson Services, but who shared his bloodline. When she came of age, Danny would offer her the chance to train to take over the family business, but would Grace let her? No mother would sentence her daughter to even a few hours a week with a cold, distant father.
Walking up the ornate curved stairway of the huge home that went to the next Carson, Danny had to wonder if that wasn’t a good thing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A MONTH LATER, seated at the slim wooden table in the hearing room in the courthouse, Danny wasn’t entirely sure why he had come to this proceeding. Grace’s reasons for being here were a no-brainer. She’d had her lawyer set the hearing to make her case for Danny not getting custody. She could probably get enough reasons on the record to preclude him from even seeing their baby again.
But he knew she wouldn’t do that. After his confession to her, and a week of wallowing in misery in his lonely house, he’d pulled himself up by his bootstraps and gone back to work like the sharp CEO he was, and his life had fallen into a strong, comfortable routine. Once he’d gotten his bearings and stopped feeling sorry for himself, he’d recognized that all was not lost. Grace wouldn’t keep Sarah from him. She would be kind enough—or maybe fair enough to Sarah—to let him have visitation, even though she probably hated him.
Some days he hated himself. Blamed himself for the pain he’d caused both him and Grace by letting her believe in him—even if it was for one short week. Had he told Grace right from the beginning that his son was not only dead, but Danny himself was responsible for Cory’s accident, Grace would have happily kept her distance. She wouldn’t have mourned the loss of his love, as he’d pictured her doing. He wouldn’t have again felt the sting of living alone in his big, hollow house, torturously reminded of how it felt to be whole, to be wanted, to have people in his life and a purpose beyond perpetuating the family business.
But if nothing else had come from the week he’d spent with Grace and Sarah, Danny knew Grace would be fair. He thoroughly loved his daughter. He wanted to be part of her life, not just to assure she’d be ready to make a choice about Carson Services, but because he loved having her around. He loved being with her. And she was Danny’s last chance at a family. He might never have the good fortune to share his life with Sarah’s mother, but he could at least have a daughter.
So he supposed he’d come to this hearing as a show of good faith, proof that if Grace intended to let him have visitation, he wanted it. He suspected that any visitation she granted him would be supervised. He’d been the one in charge when Cory was killed. Grace’s lawyer would undoubtedly drop that fact into the proceeding as a way to demonstrate that Danny wasn’t a good dad. But he’d take even supervised visitation. At this point, he’d take anything he could get.
Grace entered the hearing room. Wearing an electric-blue suit, with her dark shoulder-length hair swaying around her and her sexy violet eyes shining, she was pretty enough to stop his heart. Yet in spite of how gorgeous she was, Danny’s real reaction to her was emotional rather than physical. He’d missed her. They’d spent a total of nine days together. Three at his beach house and six at her house and he missed her. Ached for her. Longed for everything he knew darned well they could have had together, if he hadn’t looked away for one split second and changed his destiny.
Grace approached the table with her lawyer, young, handsome, Robby Malloy. The guy Danny’s lawyer called pretty boy Malloy. Danny could see why. He had the face of a movie star and carried himself like a billionaire. Danny experienced a surge of jealousy so intense he had to fight to keep himself from jumping from behind the table and yanking Grace away from the sleazy ambulance chaser.
But he didn’t jump and he didn’t yank. Because as a father his first concern had to be assuring that he was part of his daughter’s life. He’d never had the right to care about Grace, about who she dated, or even if she dated.
So why was his blood pressure rising and his chest tightening from just looking at her with another man? Her lawyer no less? A man who may not even be romantically interested, only earning his hourly fee for representing her?
The judge entered the room, his dark robe billowing around him with his every step. Danny followed the lead of his attorney, Art Brown, and rose.
Having not yet taken his seat, Malloy extended his hand to the judge. “Judge Antanazzo.”
“Good morning, Mr. Malloy,” Charlie Antanazzo boomed. “How’s my favorite attorney today?”
Malloy laughed. “Well, I doubt that I’m your favorite attorney,” he said, obviously charming the judge. “But I’m great, your honor. This is my client, Grace McCartney.”
As Grace shook Judge Antanazzo’s hand, he smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Danny would just bet it was. Not only did th
e judge smile like any man happy to meet a pretty girl, but also Danny hadn’t missed the way the judge took a quick inventory that started with Grace’s shiny sable hair and managed to skim her perfect figure and nice legs in under a second.
This time it was a bit harder to refrain from leaping over the desk and yanking her to him.
But that ship had sailed and Danny had to grow accustomed to watching men fawn over Grace. He’d had his chance and he’d blown it. Or maybe it wasn’t so much that Danny had had his chance, as much as it was that Danny had destroyed his own life long before he met Grace.
Danny’s lawyer finally spoke. “Good morning, your honor,” Art said, then shook the judge’s hand. “This is my client, Danny Carson.”
The judge quickly shook the hand Danny extended and frowned as he looked down at the brown case file he’d brought into the hearing room with him.
“Yes, I know. Danny Carson. CEO of Carson Services. Let’s see,” he said, skimming the words in front of him. “Ms. McCartney was in your employ at one time.” He continued reading. “She told you she was pregnant. You didn’t believe her. Circumstances, including her being sick during the pregnancy, kept her from pursuing the matter. Then she took the baby to you.” He read some more. “There’s no record of child support.” He looked at Danny. “Do you pay child support?”
Danny’s lawyer said, “No, your honor, but—”
The judge ignored him. “All right then. This case boils down to a few concise facts. Ms. McCartney told you she was pregnant, brought the child to you and you don’t pay child support.” He glanced from Danny to Grace and held Grace’s gaze. “Am I up to speed?
“There’s a little more, your honor,” Grace’s lawyer said. “Once the court reporter is ready, I’d like to go on the record.”
Danny’s heart sank. Great. Just great. From the scant information the judge had read, it was pretty clear whose side he was on. Once Danny’s past came out, the judge might not even let him have supervised visitation. The urge to defend himself rose up in Danny and this time rather than fight it, he let it take root. All the facts that the judge had read had made him look bad. But he wasn’t. Everything he’d done wrong wasn’t really a deliberate misdeed. Every one of his “bad” things were explainable—defendable.
He’d misinterpreted Grace’s not answering the phone the night he’d flown home after his week of client hopping. As a result of that he broke off with her. So, when she came in to tell him she was pregnant, he’d thought it was a ruse to get him back, and he hadn’t believed her. And when she left his employ, Danny had thought it was because her scheme had been exposed. He wasn’t bad. He wasn’t a schmuck. He had made some mistakes. Very defendable mistakes. Technically he could even defend himself about Cory’s death.
He took a breath. That wasn’t at issue right now. Sarah’s custody was.
The lawyers and judge made preliminary statements for the record. Danny studiously avoided looking at Grace by tapping the eraser of his pencil on the desk. Eventually the judge said, “Mr. Malloy, ball’s in your court.”
“Thank you, your honor. My client would like to testify first.”
Danny’s lawyer had warned him that preliminary hearings could sometimes seem unofficial, but Danny shouldn’t take it lightly because a court reporter would be recording the proceedings. He sat up a little straighter.
Though Grace stayed in her seat at the table, she was sworn in.
Her lawyer said, “Okay, Ms. McCartney, there is no argument between you and Mr. Carson about paternity?”
“No. And if there were we’d get a DNA test. We’ve agreed to that.”
“But there’s no need because you know Mr. Carson is the father?”
“Yes. I didn’t—hadn’t—” She paused, stumbling over her explanation and Danny frowned, not sure what she was getting at.
“You hadn’t had relations,” Robbie prompted and Grace nodded.
“—I hadn’t had relations with anybody for several months before Danny—Mr. Carson—and I spent a weekend at his beach house.”
Danny damned near groaned. Not because it sounded as if he’d taken her to his private hideaway to seduce her, but because for the first time since that weekend he realized how important sleeping with him must have been in her life. She didn’t sleep around. Hell, she apparently barely slept with anybody. But she’d been with him that night. She’d smiled at him, made him laugh, made him feel really alive—
Robbie Malloy said, “So why are you here today, Ms. McCartney?” bringing Danny back to the present.
“I’m here today because Mr. Carson and I had a shared custody agreement.”
“Briefly, what does the agreement say?”
“That if he could stay at my house for two weeks, basically to learn how to care for Sarah, I would agree to shared custody.”
“Did Mr. Carson want shared custody?”
“No. At first he wanted full custody. The agreement we made about shared custody was drafted to prevent us from fighting over Sarah. Shared custody seemed like the fair way to handle things.”
“But—”
Grace took a breath. Danny raised his gaze to hers and she looked directly at him. Which was exactly what he’d intended to make her do. If she wanted to testify against him, then let her do it looking into his eyes.
“But he didn’t stay the two weeks.”
Danny’s eyes hardened.
“Ms. McCartney, is it also correct that he didn’t sign the agreement?”
“No, he did not.”
“And is that why we’re here?”
“Well, I can’t speak for Mr. Carson, but the reason I am here is to get it on the record that even though he didn’t sign the agreement, or stay the two weeks, I believe Mr. Carson fulfilled its spirit and intent and I feel we should honor it.”
“Which means you believe you and Mr. Carson should have shared custody?”
She held Danny’s gaze. “Yes.”
“You want me to have Sarah every other week?” Danny said, forgetting they were on the record.
“Yes. Danny, you proved yourself.”
“I left.”
“I know.” She smiled slightly. “It doesn’t matter. You showed me you can care for Sarah.”
Robbie said, “Your honor, that’s what we wanted to get on the record. No further questions.”
The judge turned to Art. “Do you want to question Ms. McCartney?”
Art raised his hands. “Actually I think we’ll let Ms. McCartney’s testimony stand as is.”
“Does Mr. Carson want to testify?”
Without consulting Danny, Art said, “No.”
The judge quickly glanced down at his notes. “Technically you have a custody agreement in place. It’s simply not executed. But Ms. McCartney still wants to honor it.” He looked at Danny. “Mr. Carson? Do you want to honor the agreement?”
Danny nodded as Art said, “Yes.”
The judge made a sound of strained patience, then said, “You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Carson. Very lucky indeed.”
Staring at Grace, who had begun casually gathering her purse as if what she had just said hadn’t been of monumental significance, Danny didn’t know what to say. Art spoke for him. “Your honor, when parents share custody it’s frequently considered that each is taking his or her share of the financial burden when the child is with him—or her.”
The judge closed the file. “Right. As if these two people have equal financial means.” He faced Danny. “Don’t screw this up.” He left the room in a flurry or robes and promises about writing up an order.
Art began gathering his files. “Well, that went much better than expected,” he said with a laugh, but overwhelmed with too many emotions to name, Danny watched Grace and her lawyer heading for the door.
&nbs
p; Just as Grace would have stepped over the threshold, emotion overruled common sense and he called, “Wait!”
Grace turned and smiled at him.
Danny’s throat worked. She was incredibly beautiful and incredibly generous. And he was numb with gratitude. “Why didn’t you—”
She tilted her head in question. “Why didn’t I what?”
Go for the jugular? Fight? Tell the court about Cory?
“Why are you letting me have Sarah?”
“You’re her dad.”
“I —” He took a breath. “What if I can’t handle her?”
To his amazement, Grace laughed. “You can handle her. I’ve seen you handle her. You’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine,” he repeated, annoyed with Grace for being so flip, when the safety of their daughter was at stake. “What kind of answer is that!”
“It’s an honest one.”
“How can you trust her with me!”
“Are you telling me you’re going to put her in danger?”
He glared at her. “You know I won’t.”
“Then there’s no reason you shouldn’t have your daughter.”
“You trust me?”
She smiled. “I trust you. But if you’re nervous, hire a nanny. You’ve told me at least twice that you were going to do that. So hire somebody.”
Danny’s heart swelled with joy. He was getting a second chance. He would have something of a family. He swallowed hard. “Okay.”
She took two steps closer to him and placed her hand on his forearm. “Or, if you don’t want to hire a nanny, you could come home.”
Home. Her house was home. Warm. Welcoming. He could remember nearly every detail of their six short days. Especially how tempted he was to take what they both wanted. Just as he was tempted now to take what she was offering. A complete second chance. Not just an opportunity to be Sarah’s daddy, but a second chance at life. A real life.
But he also knew he was damaged. So damaged it wasn’t fair to use Grace as a step up out of his particular hell. He smiled regretfully. “You know you deserve better.”
