by Brea Viragh
He shrugged. “I’m free most of the day. As I told you before, right now you and Renee are my only clients.”
“I’m looking at a half day in the office. Carl wants to do a little light remodeling before the big fundraiser.” Her face scrunched up. “I can only in my wildest nightmares guess what that means, and he won’t tell me. But it means I have time after lunch to do a little shopping before I can worm my way back in to supervise. Want to meet at the mall around two? I’ll add it to my planner.”
Inclining his head hid the widening grin from her. “Whatever you say. I’m happy to help out.”
Which was how they found themselves pushing a cart with a screeching Renee down a garishly lit aisle of a home furnishings store the following afternoon.
She kicked her feet, little patent-leather shoes swishing through the air in an attempt to knock over whatever she could reach. “I don’t want to be here! I want to go home!”
Olympia bent to shush her. “We’re here to buy things for your new room, sweet pea. We’ll go home as soon as we’re done shopping. Didn’t you want to get something just for yourself? Then we’ll go home, okay?”
Renee slammed little plump fists into the restraints of the cart. “I want to go to my real home. My real home. I want my Mommy!”
It took effort for Olympia to say, “I’m right here.”
“Not you! My real Mommy. I want my real Mommy and Daddy.”
And Harlan’s heart broke just a little more. It was easy to do these days, the more time he spent with the two ladies in front of him. Harlan reached up to run a hand through his hair, noting Olympia’s curved shoulders, dejected posture. “Why don’t you let her down out of the cart for a minute? She might be happier with a more tactile approach, picking out things she can see and touch for herself.”
“If I let her down then she’ll destroy something,” Olympia said with a groan.
Renee’s scream shook the rafters and Harlan could have sworn he saw a few startled birds take wing at the noise. He tried to focus on the two of them instead of the other people in the store, feeling eyes on him. If he noticed, then surely it was bothering the hell out of Olympia.
“We’ll keep her in our sight the entire time,” he said, his hands curling around the cart handle. “She won’t get far. And trust me, with all these toys around, she’ll be too distracted to destroy.” He mentally crossed his fingers.
Olympia turned toward him, sighed, adjusted her coat for something to do. “I’d rather not. If she’s in this kind of mood, then she won’t want to listen and we’ll end up chasing after her. No.” She was firm. “I don’t want to take any chances.”
“It’s not taking a chance. It’s letting her know we trust her to stay around.”
“But we don’t trust her. She’s four.”
“Exactly. She’s four,” Harlan repeated.
“And she’s tired from not taking a nap and she’s hungry because she wouldn’t eat her breakfast this morning.”
“I’ll tell you a story.” He fell into step beside her, trying to focus on the conversation instead of Renee’s hiccupping sobs. “When I was little, my brothers decided they wanted to take me out fishing. My parents agreed because they thought it would be a good chance to bond, even though none of us really knew what we were doing.”
“Uh huh.” She sounded skeptical.
They pushed the cart to the left down a short aisle toward the children’s section. “So we went, and we spent all afternoon trying to figure out how to get the worm to stay on the hook. We tried and tried and each of us ended up with our fingers bleeding.”
“That sounds horrible! And a recipe for tetanus if I’ve ever heard one. I hope you all were up to date on your shots.”
“At the end of the day, we had three tiny fish and a whole mess of cuts and bruises between us. You know what it taught me?”
“Your father should have taken the time to go out with you to show you how it should be done?” she supplied.
“It taught me that they trusted me to make my own mistakes.”
Olympia stopped in front of a vertical display of colorful pink and purple pillows. “Yes, well, I trust myself to avoid potential mistakes.” Renee quieted long enough to reach out, finger one, and yank it from the shelf in a fit of anger. It toppled to the floor. “I believe it would be a mistake to let her down now, for instance.”
Harlan couldn’t stop himself from reaching over. “Take my hand.” He held out his palm for Renee to take. “You’re not getting out of this cart unless you go with me or Aunt Olympia.”
Renee fixed him with a perfect pout. “I can do it myself.”
“I know you can. And I’m sure your mommy and daddy knew what a well-behaved young lady you really are. Thing is, sprout, you still need to prove it to me. If today goes well, then we can see about relaxing some of those strict rules your aunt put on you at home.”
“She’s not my aunt,” Renee insisted. Still, she took his hand and let him help her out of the cart. She beat at his shoulder for a moment before reaching freedom.
“I think you need to trust her a little more,” Harlan said to Olympia.
“Maybe it’s you I should trust, eh?”
“I think so, as I’m only here to help.”
She turned her attention to him, nibbling the inside of her lip as she was prone to do when she thought hard about something. Or someone. “Fine,” she replied at last, stepping back. “We’ll try it your way. Maybe I’m way too overprotective and I have no idea what I’m doing. At least she’s quieting down.” Which was true. The moment Renee’s feet touched the floor, the sobs hitched to a low whine, her gaze focused on the colorful pillows. “Do you have her?”
Harlan reached down to take the child’s hand. “Absolutely. You keep the cart and we’ll see what kind of shopping trouble we can get into.”
Olympia shot him a look that said she wasn’t surprised. “Spend the last of my savings?”
“It’s worth it if Renee can be comfortable in her room,” he teased.
“Oh, sure. I’d forgotten that one pink princess pillow can mean the difference between happiness and misery.”
His brows lifted in surprise. This was the first time she had teased him without going straight for sarcasm first. “You know, exercise is important too.”
“For her or for me?”
“Both. Me too. I’ve been getting a little pudgy around the midsection. Chasing after her might do me some good.” He used his free hand to squeeze the bit of extra flesh below his belly button.
“Maybe if you wouldn’t eat an entire bag of white cheddar popcorn every night, then you wouldn’t have to worry about pudge.” She laughed when he turned wide eyes in her direction. “What? You didn’t think I would notice? There’s always a new empty bag in my trash can. I’ve seen proof of your dirty little secret, mister.”
“It’s out in the open. What can I do?” Harlan stared balefully at the ceiling before Renee tugged on his arm, determined to drag him halfway across the store in seconds. Olympia followed them to a display of a fully-made child’s bed with a diamond-patterned sheet set.
“Work on exercising your self-control, maybe,” she teased.
“I can’t. I’ve tried, especially by making healthier food choices for my clients. But I’m afraid it’s too late for me. When I think about popcorn, or a burger with thick slices of cheese and crispy bacon and sliced tomatoes...” He trailed off, his mouth watering. “When I’m by myself, I get into the habit of eating right out of the pan or over the kitchen sink. Sometimes hot food just shoved in your mouth can taste way better than if it’s on a plate.”
“I worry about you,” she said, quirking a brow.
“Why?”
“What kind of bad habits are you teaching the baby when I’m not around?”
He smiled down at Renee. “Oh, I recognize that I’m a bad influence. At least I try to watch myself when I’m around children. It’s like I have no option. I have to make a good choi
ce or else. You like these sheets, Renee? Think they would look nice on your bed?”
Her normally pouty bow-shaped lips were now a straight line, and the gesture reminded him inexplicably of Olympia. “Yes.” She was decisive. “I want these for my bedroom.”
“Then we’ll get them.” Olympia grabbed a set for a twin-size mattress, along with the matching comforter.
They continued on through the aisles, weaving among fairytale colors of pink and blue and white. It was a child’s wonderland and the more time they spent together, the easier it was to relax.
“How long have you lived in New York?” he wanted to know, shifting closer until he felt the heat of her.
“All my life,” she answered. “I grew up in the house I own now. After my parents died, I took over the mortgage and in a couple of years it will be mine free and clear.”
“You were how old?” he asked, helping Renee up to choose a curtain set. “When they passed?”
Olympia turned her back to him. “Around twenty-two, I suppose. Old enough to be able to support myself, young enough to feel the loss without realizing the implications. The responsibility that was thrust on my shoulders. They were really great people.” Her smile was effortless. “I miss them every day. It seems like my life is a study in loss.”
“What about the nice lady next door? The one who’s come over a few times with treats? Mrs...” Harlan snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name.
“Mrs. Nunez. She’s adopted me. Unofficially, of course. She has her own children to worry about. They’re down in Maryland, not nearly close enough for her. Or me. I know she wishes they were closer.”
It made him sad to hear that. She had no family outside of Renee, the niece she’d never met until tragic circumstances threw the two of them together. Now they were alone. Harlan had such a massive immediate family as well as involved extended family. He wished he could share them with her. Maybe she would like to borrow them for major holidays? It had to get lonely, Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s, cooking for one and celebrating alone.
“Why don’t you tell me more about your brothers and sisters,” she offered instead. Clearly uncomfortable talking about herself. “I always enjoy your stories. They’re entertaining.”
Okay, so she would rather talk about him. It was fine because unlike most men, he wouldn’t become easily distracted when the conversation turned to him. The more he got her to feel comfortable, the more she opened up, the easier it would be to have an honest dialogue where she didn’t turn the attention away from herself.
It was give and take, he knew, and had experienced it firsthand growing up with his sisters.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I played hooky from school, stole my mother’s car keys, and took the family station wagon out for a joy ride in the middle of the afternoon?” he supplied with a grin.
Olympia smiled in response, and he noted that her eyes were shadowed with fatigue, her expression wan. “No, you did not.”
Concern rose. “You look exhausted. Why don’t we call it a day and go home so you can rest for a few minutes?”
“No, I’m fine. Although I’m pretty sure we’re done here. Renee can’t possibly—” She cut off, glancing around. “Renee?”
Then Harlan noticed his hand was empty. Where had she— “Oh, God.” He swung in a circle and saw no sign of her. “Renee!”
Olympia reached out and smacked him on the shoulder, her gaze panicked. “I told you this would happen!”
“I’m sorry, okay? I had my eyes on her. She was just here.”
“And now she’s not. Holy hell, she’s gone. What are we going to do? Where is she? Renee!”
“She has to be around here somewhere.” His heart beat frantically in his ears and he took off at a sprint, running up and down the aisles.
“Renee!” Olympia had ditched the cart and was right behind him. They searched the displays, the racks of clothing, anywhere a tiny four-year-old might hide. “Where can she be?”
He hated swinging around to see Olympia on the verge of tears. “Try to breathe. In and out—”
“Don’t tell me how to breathe,” she snapped. “I’m breathing.” She opened her mouth to let loose what was sure to be a dazzling curse on his stupidity when her phone rang. Instinct had her reaching to answer it, still jogging up and down the aisles in search of the missing girl. “Hello?”
Harlan focused his attention on the floor. Getting down on his hands and knees without hesitation, he crawled through the nearest clothing display in search of those little leather shoes. “Renee? It’s Harlan. Please come out from wherever you’re hiding. You’re making your Auntie Oly and me very worried. You need to let us know where you are right now, sweetheart. Come on. Be a good girl.”
Fighting to calm his own breathing under the crushing weight of panic, he made out a slight giggle to his left. He changed directions but stayed on the floor. Calm down, Harlan. She’ll know if you’re freaking. It’s like some animals. They can smell fear. “Renee? I know you’re hiding here! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
The giggle sounded again and he knew he was headed in the right direction. There was no reason to be worried, he tried to tell his mind. This was an attention tactic he’d seen a dozen times.
“I’m getting called in to work,” came Olympia’s harried half-laugh, half-growl. “Can you believe this? There’s some emergency with the sheetrock and they need me to come back in. It isn’t even my project. It’s Carl’s secret gobbledygook.” Then came more spooked giggles. “I told him not to take this on so close to the gallery opening. I told him, but he didn’t listen to me. Just like you, you didn’t listen to me either. What am I going to do?”
“Calm down.” This time Harlan spoke to Olympia. His eyes were focused on the slightly shifting curtains nearest the cart. They were back at the home wares department, so she hadn’t gone off so very far after all. He bet, if he moved quietly enough, he could surprise Renee and she wouldn’t have time to hide again.
“How can I calm down?” This one was a screech.
“Because we are going to solve this together.”
“No, Harlan, we are not going to solve this together. There is no together. What am I going to do?”
He watched her sink down to the floor on her knees. “You’re going to head in to work because I know how important it is for you, and I am going to stay here until I find our little runaway.”
“How can you be so calm? You know I can’t leave you here to find her alone. And I’m sure as hell not going to let you drive her home. You don’t have the car seat.”
“I have a spare car seat in my trunk from my last job. Trust me, Olympia, we have this covered. You go on and pay for what’s in the cart and get your butt to work.”
“This is ridi—”
“You’re going to have to trust me sooner or later,” he urged.
Then he leaped forward on a pounce, grabbing hold of a pair of cute little legs, which brought a squeal of delight.
“Gotcha!”
In the next moment, the curtains shifted aside to reveal a pair of amused brown eyes and a cherubic smile.
“Like I said,” he told Olympia as his smile widened, “I’ve got this covered.”
Chapter 5
“I want you to come home with me,” Harlan stated.
Olympia glanced up at him with a scowl at being interrupted. Her response could go one of two ways. She could call him out on what was surely a double entendre—he was full of them—or she could play innocent and have the benefit of watching him stumble to explain himself. He was adorable when he fumbled over his words.
Decisions, decisions.
She set the papers aside after circling the reminder to finalize Renee’s adoption in her planner and pushed her glasses higher before giving him an answer. “Come home with you...why? What do you want to do to me?” she asked innocently.
“Oh, I...um—”
He cleared his throat and Olympia
kept her chuckle to herself. Harlan really was cute when he got flustered. It was easy getting him there, too, because for all his easygoing ways and down to earth optimism, he sometimes didn’t know how to respond to her. His confusion in that matter was one of her only sources of amusement these days, keeping her from tearing her hair out, or bonding with her bed for twelve hours straight. She was afraid if she went down that road with her bed, there was no coming out.
They were a good four weeks into their working relationship. Sure, things were getting a little better at home, and sure, Renee was sleeping through the night more often than not, but it was still hard. Dealing with Harlan and his not-so-subtle flirting made it easier to swallow. Sometimes. When she was in the mood.
Did that make her a bad person? She wasn’t sure anymore.
“I think it would be good for you and Renee to get out of the house a little. My family is crazy. I guarantee you will both be welcomed with open arms. And you might even have a good time. If you let yourself.”
“You just don’t want to cook dinner, do you?” she needled him. “You’ve done enough cooking for the week and now you’re trying to pawn me off on someone else. I assure you, I have some frozen meals. I’ll be fine popping one in the microwave.”
“It’s meatloaf night.” At once Harlan was like a little boy. He bent down in front of her with his eyes pleading, his hands creeping up her legs toward her knees. “No one makes meatloaf like my mother. She is a culinary goddess.”
“Then how is it you didn’t decide to be a chef, Mr. Anderson?” She didn’t take her hand away when his fell on hers, even when she knew she should.
“Because I realized from an early age there are certain duties of which mothers and sisters and wives excel while I am only adequate, and I decided to focus my attention on better avenues.”
Olympia didn’t remember her mother’s cooking. Not much, at least. There were vague and hazy memories of a plump woman tending a stovetop when she was younger, and the scent of baking cookies in the air. Later in life, her mother hadn’t wanted to do much cooking, preferring to eat out.
