“My father owns thirty-three percent of my company. If you think I’m going to let you—”
“Don’t even say it,” she warned, holding out her finger to silence him. “If you really cared about your father, then you’d want him to be happy. And if he had the good fortune to find happiness with me or any other woman, then you should be jumping for joy. Because real happiness…real love…is very hard to find.”
She turned on her heel and strode out of his office, slamming the door behind her. He stared after her, suddenly wondering what had possessed him to take such a tack with her. Maybe his first instinct had been right—to let his father’s infatuation run its course. But he didn’t want to watch his father fall more deeply under her spell. And he didn’t want to learn that Roxanne Perry was the kind of woman to take advantage of a vulnerable man. But even worse, he didn’t want to believe that she’d choose his father over him.
He punched at his intercom button and when Linda answered, he schooled his voice into relative calm. “Cancel those flowers,” he said. Hell, he didn’t care whether Roxanne Perry kidnapped his father and turned him into a sixty-year-old sex slave. From now on, he was staying out of it!
“AND THAT’S OUR SHOW FOR TODAY. Join us next Tuesday when we’ll be talking about the perils of dating for a single mom. This is Carl Lawrence, for Roxanne Perry. Thanks for listening to Baltimore At Home.”
Carl flipped a switch and turned to face Roxanne. “Great show. I enjoyed our conversation about discipline. I didn’t realize how different things were in a single parent household. No good cop, bad cop.”
“Carl, I need to talk to you about something,” Roxanne murmured.
“And I need to talk to you. Let’s go to my office.”
Roxanne followed him out of the studio and when they reached his office right next door to Kit’s, he closed the door behind her. She nervously took a seat across the desk from him and tried to put order to her thoughts. She needed to tell him how she felt. Though she respected him and cared about him, there was no romantic spark. He was old enough to be her father.
“Carl, before we talk about next week’s show, I need to clear the air.”
“You can clear the air after you look at this,” Carl said. He slid a sheaf of papers across the desk and she picked them up.
“What is this?”
“It’s a contract. I’m offering you a permanent job here at the station. Twenty-five thousand a year with benefits. I know it’s not a lot, but there’s a clause in there that allows you to renegotiate after six months if the ratings increase the way I think they will.”
She stared at the paper, the words a blur. “A job? You’re offering me a real job?”
“Radio is a strange gig,” he said. “Either you’re good at it or you’re not. You’re a natural, Roxy. People listen to you. You’re compassionate and outspoken and funny and that’s a rare combination.”
“But I don’t have any professional training.”
“I didn’t either. Before I got into radio, I was selling used cars. I came into the studio to do some commercial work for my boss and they liked my voice. I did more voice-overs and they offered me a job reading the news. That’s how I got my start.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she murmured, clutching the contract in her hands as if it might suddenly disappear. She thought finding a job would be difficult, that she’d have to suffer months of rejection before someone would hire her. And now, he was handing her a career on a silver platter.
“Say yes,” Carl urged. “It would be a great job for you. You’d need to be here from about nine until three on Tuesdays and Thursdays and that’s it. You can do research for the show from home. We’ll get you a computer with Internet access. You know how to use a computer, don’t you?”
“Sure. I used to help my ex-husband with his research when he was just starting up his law practice.”
“We’ll go over the show in the morning before we go on the air. And then we’ll spend an hour afterwards brainstorming for the next week. We should—”
“Why are you doing this?” Roxanne interrupted.
“I told you,” Carl said. “Because you’re good.”
“There isn’t another reason?”
He shrugged. “Well, maybe I’d like to help you out.”
She drew a slow, even breath. “Your son says that you’re falling in love with me. Is that true?”
Carl chuckled. “That’s what he thinks?”
“He offered me money to stay out of your life.”
He didn’t seem to be surprised. “How much?” Carl asked.
Roxanne gasped. “He didn’t offer me a specific amount.” She paused. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’d hold out for a hundred thousand,” Carl advised in a serious voice.
“Dollars?”
“Ever since I turned the business over to Kit, we’ve switched roles. He’s been treating me like the kid and I’m supposed to treat him like the parent. He’s the one who suggested I move into the condo so I wouldn’t have to make the drive home when I worked late at the station. He’s the one who insisted on the car service after I had a few little accidents on the freeway. And now he’s trying to control who I spend my time with. Yes, Kit has this notion that I’m in love with you. And maybe I haven’t disabused him of it quite yet. I’m trying to teach him a lesson.”
“And what’s that?” Roxanne asked.
“That it’s time for him to stop running my life and start living his.” He paused. “Now do you want the job?”
“Can I have a few days to think about it?” Roxanne asked.
“Sure,” he replied. “As long as you promise to say yes, you can take as long as you want.”
Roxanne stood, pressing the contract to her chest, then started toward the door. When she got into the hallway, she searched for a quiet spot, a place to absorb everything that had happened. She opened the door to the janitor’s closet and stepped into the dark interior, needing just a moment to reflect.
She had a job, a way to provide at least some measure of security for her family. Though it wasn’t much, if she worked hard, she could make the show a success. After all, she’d wanted to go into television work after she’d gotten her degree. But then she’d married John and they’d started their family and she’d put all thoughts of a career behind her.
Now she had a second chance and a job offer that would leave her plenty of time to be a mother. It was like a dream come true. And on top of it, she’d get to see Kit Lawrence every now and then. Though until Carl set things straight with Kit, Roxanne wasn’t sure she wanted to come within a hundred feet of him. If Carl was determined to prove some point, why did he have to use Roxanne to do it? And why did Kit find it so easy to believe that she had ulterior motives?
In reality, there were probably a lot of divorced mothers who might jump at the chance to find a man like Carl. He was emotionally stable and financially secure. And he wasn’t exactly the type to go running off with a woman wrestler. The prospect of weeding through a world full of frogs in order to find a prince was daunting for any single mom.
And if she were looking for security maybe she might consider the possibility. She had her children to think about and if the radio show didn’t pan out, she’d be back in the same position she was in a few days ago.
But Roxanne wanted more from marriage the second time around. She wanted security, but she also wanted passion and excitement and overwhelming, everlasting desire.
Those fantasies had gotten her through some tough times. After John had walked out, she’d tried to convince herself that divorce was a good thing, that there was another, more perfect husband waiting for her. She had dreamed about meeting a man who would drive her wild with his touch and calm her fears with his smile. A man like—Roxanne cursed softly. A man like Kit Lawrence. One little kiss was all it had taken to wonder about transforming her fantasy into reality.
She turned and pressed her forehead against t
he door, squeezing her eyes shut. She knew she could make a success of this job, with or without Kit Lawrence’s approval or support. She could take advantage of this opportunity. But what she didn’t know was how she’d continue seeing Kit without falling into vivid speculation about what they might have shared.
She stepped back from the door, confident that she would handle whatever Carl or Kit threw her way. But at that very moment, the door swung open and hit her in the face, the impact with her nose causing stars to dance in front of her eyes. Roxanne cried out and stumbled around in the dark, nearly falling over a mop bucket.
The bare bulb hanging from the ceiling went on and for a moment, she had to cover her eyes, waiting for them to adjust. When she pulled her hands away, she found herself squinting at Kit Lawrence.
“In the closet? Are you waiting for my father or has he already left?”
She sent him a withering glare, even though the effort caused her nose to throb. “You have a very dirty mind.” Roxanne pushed past him and walked out the door.
“Rox, wait a second.”
“No! I don’t need to listen to you anymore.”
He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. Then he gently pulled her fingers away from her nose, examining it carefully. “Does it hurt?”
“Like hell,” she said, trying to keep her eyes from watering.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be inside the closet. I needed a lightbulb. What were you doing in there?”
“I could tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me. You prefer to think the worst of me.”
“Give me a reason not to.”
“I needed a quiet place to think. A moment alone.”
“In the closet?”
She pushed his hands away. “I have to go.” She hurried down the hall, this time finding her way out without a problem. When she reached her minivan, she quickly climbed in. Roxanne rubbed her nose, trying to ease the ache along with the humiliation. Her professional life might be coming together and her family life was getting on track, but her romantic life was a complete shambles.
Carl pretended to lust after Roxanne. Roxanne secretly lusted after his son, Kit. Kit hated Roxanne, even though he’d kissed her once. “My life has turned into a soap opera,” she murmured. “And I can’t find the damn remote to turn it off.”
ROXANNE GRABBED the box of cereal and poured a bowl of Frosted Flakes for Danny. Car pool was due to arrive in fifteen minutes and her son still wasn’t dressed. “Danny,” she shouted. “Come down right now. You’ll be late for school.”
“I can’t find my basketball shoes,” he shouted from the top of the stairs.
“Wear your hiking boots.”
“No, I have to wear my basketball shoes.”
Roxanne put Jenna in her high chair, then spread some graham crackers onto the tray. “Good morning, my little sweetie.”
“Mama,” she said. She stuck her finger out and touched Roxanne’s nose. “Dirty.”
Roxanne giggled and captured her daughter’s finger in her mouth. “Mmm, tastes good.”
Danny came racing into the kitchen followed by Rachel and Michael, who were still dressed in their pajamas. “Tell them to quit following me,” he shouted.
“Quit following your brother,” Roxanne said.
“When can I go to school?” Rachel asked.
“Next year.”
Danny slid into his spot at the kitchen table, then glanced up at his mother. His spoon froze halfway to his mouth. “What happened to you?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You have a black eye,” Danny said. “Cool.”
Roxanne turned to look at her reflection in the stainless steel refrigerator. When she didn’t like what she saw, she ran to the powder room tucked beneath the stairs and flipped on the light. “Oh, no!” she cried.
The thunder of running feet on the hardwood floors followed her to the bathroom and Michael crawled up on the toilet and peered at her reflection in the mirror. “Wow,” he said, clearly in awe of the swirl of color around her right eye.
“It’s purple,” Rachel said. “Purple is my favorite color.”
The doorbell rang, but the kids were so fascinated by her black eye that none of them ran to answer it. When it rang again, Roxanne cursed silently and told Danny to get his shoes and coat. Before she opened the door, she peeked through the curtains, expecting to find Janelle Verrick, one of the car pool mothers. Another moan slipped from her throat. Kit Lawrence stood on her front porch, holding a huge bouquet of flowers.
Danny ran up with his school bag and his jacket. “Why don’t you let Mrs. Verrick in?”
“It’s not Mrs. Verrick,” she said. “I want you to wait a few seconds while Mommy hides in the bathroom, then I want you to open the door.”
“But you said I should never open the door.”
“You know who is on the other side. Mr. Lawrence is out there.”
“Does he have some puppies and candy?”
“No. Just tell Mr. Lawrence that I’m in the bathroom and I can’t be disturbed. Then close the door and come back and tell me when he goes away. Got that?”
“Does he have balloons?”
“Not that Mr. Lawrence. The other Mr. Lawrence.”
“With the swimming pool?” Danny asked.
“Honey, just answer the door and tell him what I said.”
Roxanne rushed to the powder room then left the door open a crack. Rachel, Michael and Jenna were still inside, playing with the toilet paper. She shushed them, then she tried to hear what was going on at the front door. She heard the familiar squeak of the hinges, then held her breath.
“Hi, Danny.”
“Hi, Mr. Lawrence. My mom says she can’t see you because she’s disturbed. And she has to go to the bathroom. You’re supposed to go away.”
“Is she sick?” Kit asked.
“No. When can we come swimming again?”
“Whenever you want. Would you like to come tonight?”
“Sure. What time?”
Roxanne groaned. This was not going well. She raked her fingers through her tangled hair, then tightened the belt on her tattered chenille robe. The robe made her look like a pink sausage tied in the middle and there was a huge coffee stain on the lapel. Maybe if she stayed far enough away, he wouldn’t notice the black eye.
She stepped out of the bathroom and the kids scooted out around her, running to the door. Rachel leapt into Kit’s arms and gave him a hug, then stuck her face into the flowers he held. Michael clung to his leg.
“Are those flowers for me?” Rachel asked.
“They’re for your mom,” Kit replied. “But reach in my jacket pocket. There’s something in there for you.”
Rachel did as she was told and came back with big red lollipop. She found three more and passed them out to the other kids, then wriggled out of Kit’s arms. “Mommy, look what Mr. Lawrence brought!”
“Sugar,” Roxanne said. “And artificial coloring. And a sharp stick. Very nice.”
“My ride’s here, Mom,” Danny called.
“Leave the lollie. You can save it until after school.” He set the sucker down on the hall table and ran out. Then Michael grabbed it and raced out of the room, the girls hot on his heels. “Don’t you dare eat that,” she shouted. “That’s Danny’s.”
Kit took a step into the house. “Sorry. I probably should have brought them something a little more healthy, like alfalfa sprouts or yogurt.” He took another step closer, then frowned. “What happened to your eye?”
“A closet door,” she said. “And you looking for a lightbulb.”
Kit tossed the flowers aside, crossed the hall in a few long strides, then gently took her face in his hands. He carefully examined her eye, probing at it with his thumb. “Does that hurt?”
Roxanne shook her head. “I put ice on it last night. I don’t think anything is broken. Just a little bruised.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“That wouldn’t be a great idea. I don’t have health insurance. The kids are covered by a policy I bought, but since the divorce, I let my coverage lapse.”
“You were hurt in the workplace. The station’s insurance would probably cover it.”
“I’m fine,” she said, touched by his concern and warmed by his touch. “What are you doing here?”
He picked up the flowers from the floor and handed them to her. “I wanted to say I was sorry. About the argument we had. About the black eye. And I wanted to take you and the kids out to breakfast.”
Her first impulse was to accept. But then she shook her head. She had vowed not to get caught in the middle again. Carl and Kit were going to have to work out this misunderstanding first. “Have you ever been out to eat with three children under the age of five? I’m telling you, you’ll never be the same again. The jelly, the juice, the syrup. It’s not for amateurs.”
Kit laughed. “I’ve put together multimillion dollar deals. I’ve run a few triathlons. I’ve sailed across the ocean in a forty-foot sailboat. I think I can handle breakfast. Why don’t you and the kids get dressed? I’ll put these flowers in water.”
She nodded. Breakfast with Kit did sound intriguing. And maybe it would give her a chance to improve his opinion of her. “All right. I’ll just be a minute.”
She ran into the living room and retrieved the lollipops from the kids, then herded them upstairs. When she got to Rachel’s room, she pulled out a shirt and pants and laid them on her daughter’s bed. “I want you to go find something for Michael and Jenna to wear and then get them dressed. Then I want you to get dressed. Can you do that for Mommy?”
“I don’t like these,” she said, pointing to the outfit. “I hate that shirt. It makes me scratch. And those pants are green. I hate green.”
“Just pick out anything and get dressed. When I get out of the bathroom, I want to see all of you ready to go. Mr. Lawrence is going to take us out for breakfast.”
Rachel sighed dramatically, then began to rummage through her closet. Satisfied that her daughter could handle the task, Roxanne hurried into the bedroom. She quickly brushed her hair and pulled it back, tying it with a pale blue scarf. Then she found a sweater set that matched and wasn’t stained with spaghetti sauce or colored marker. Corduroy pants and boots finished off the look, along with a quick bit of makeup to cover the black eye.
Paris or Bust! Page 5
