Windy City Romance: Boxed Set: Prequel - Book III

by Barbara Lohr

  McKenna wasn't buying it. “Okay, who was that guy in the middle? You know, the hunk with the dark hair and cute bow tie?”

  Vanessa froze. Her Hunky Hottie. So that wasn’t just her opinion? A mouthful of ice cream slid down her throat in one cold swallow. “Alex Compton.”

  Amy and McKenzie exchanged a glance.

  “What?” Vanessa’s spoon clattered when she tossed it into the empty sundae glass.

  Picking up one of the paper napkins, Amy blotted her lips. “Nothing.”

  “Al…lex?” McKenna drew out the name. “Just something about the way you say it, missy.”

  Amy nodded in gleeful agreement.

  Vanessa pulled at a curl at the base of her neck. “Alex and Jack. What’s the problem?”

  McKenna slowly shook her head. “So, tell us about Alex.” She elongated Alex’s name again, like warm taffy.

  “Oh, come on. Jack Delamerced's in the deal too. They’re both just my…m-mentors.” Cripes, she could hardly get the word out.

  “You expect us to swallow that?” McKenna was in full grin. “Really?”

  Amy’s mouth dropped open. “Hey, wait just a minute. Vanessa, you really like this Alex guy.”

  Vanessa began to shred her paper napkin. “He’s just my backer. He has a nice sister.” And a beach house. Imagining their response if she mentioned the day at the beach, she didn’t go there.

  “Uh huh.” McKenna didn’t look convinced. Time to change the subject. “Hey, McKenna, are you going to some kind of healthcare gala for the Children's Hospital this summer?”

  Brows lifting, McKenna nodded. “Yep, glad you mentioned it. Have to find a dress. The hospital took two tables. Great cause. They’re building an oncology unit. I'm dragging Seth along as escort. My big brother owes me a favor.”

  “The gala’s part of my business plan.” What a relief. She’d actually know someone at the event. “Sounds worthwhile. I volunteered at the peds hospital in San Francisco before Bo came along.”

  McKenna waved her spoon. “I’d fix you up with Seth, but he’s already dating Selena, one of the other midwives. Might be serious.”

  Vanessa planted both hands flat on the table. “What am I, a charity case? The man thing? Over it!”

  Amy looked horror-stricken. “Don’t be like that, Vanessa. Some guys are nice.”

  “Okay, I’ll make an exception for your Jason.” But the truth was, Vanessa and McKenna weren’t that sure about Jason. Sometimes he seemed to be missing a sensitivity chip. But they didn’t want to hurt Amy’s feelings. “First and foremost, I’m a mother. But I'll be glad to see a friendly face at the gala.”

  “And you are going with…?” McKenna dangled the question over the table.

  “One of my mentors.” Rushing on, Vanessa turned to Amy. “How are the wedding plans coming?”

  While McKenna frowned, Amy’s face got dreamy. “Coming along great. My mother and aunt are busy with the plans. Keeping it within budget is kind of a problem. The honeymoon in Italy, you know.”

  “I think I should chaperone,” McKenna deadpanned.

  “Me too,” Vanessa added playfully, but regret tugged at her heart. Would she ever marry? Would Bo ever have a father?

  Better no father than the wrong father. Looking at her own father and her relationship with Ethan, staying single felt like a good plan. Some days she was so darned relieved that he’d signed off on paternity.

  “How is my godchild?” McKenna asked.

  “Doing great, thanks.” The two of them were crazy about Bo.

  “No word from Ethan?” Amy’s eyes darkened

  “No, and that’s a good thing. Never even called to see if the baby was a boy or a girl, if you want to know the truth.”

  The table fell silent.

  “You’re right. Ethan flunked the dad test big-time, that’s for sure,” McKenna finally said. “Besides, he lives on the West Coast. You’re back here where you belong.”

  “I’ll never run into Ethan in Chicago.” For Vanessa, leaving California felt like leaving the scene of a crime.

  “Okay, even though I'm involved in summer school,” Amy began, “let's take Bo to the beach some Saturday. Jason will understand. We can't let McKenna be the only one with a tan this summer.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Thanks.” Then she wouldn't be tempted to take Alex up on his offer to return to his beach house.

  She’d be playing with fire.

  Right now, she had enough drama in her life.

  Just then a text popped up from Alex. “Jack gave me time for taping. Ten tomorrow. See you there.”

  She felt more drama coming her way.

  Chapter 7

  “Watch your step,” Henry, producer for the advertorial, cautioned Vanessa. She stepped over taped wires and bypassed camera equipment in the cavernous studio.

  Goose bumps rose on the back of her neck. Over one arm hung a heavy basket of frozen whipped cream cakes. She felt plenty nervous as she followed Henry to a lighted kitchen set.

  After Eye of the Tiger, she never wanted to be in another TV studio again in this lifetime. But here she was.

  “Thanks for sending the script ahead,” Henry threw over his shoulder. “The teleprompter should be set up.”

  “I'm ready.” Never in a million years.

  “This what you had in mind? Nothing works.” Henry flicked a burner on and off to prove it. “No flames. All pretend.”

  Checking out the island with sleek black cabinets and gray slate counters, Vanessa nodded. “Looks great, Henry. Thanks.”

  After he introduced her to Larry, who’d be working the teleprompter, and Carol on camera, Vanessa arranged her props so the kitchen would look convincing. A cake stand here and mixing bowls over there. She’d even brought a blue piece of crockery to hold her favorite spoons and spatulas. Henry had asked her for some historical photos to splice in, and she handed him the file. While she tied on an apron, the producer leafed through the grainy photos. Her grandparents and great-grandparents had worked so hard in the bakery years ago.

  “Great pictures.” Henry tucked the photos back into the folder. “Ready to run through the script for a time check?”

  “Sure.” Trying to focus, she faced the teleprompter mounted above the camera. “About forty years ago, Minnie Randall, my great-grandmother, set out to experiment with her chocolate cake recipe. It needed a little ‘gussying up’ as she would say.”

  Anxiety rippled across her chest as she read the script, but she beat it back. How she wished Jillian could have come along for moral support, but it always took some time to get back on her feet. Both Amy and McKenna were working, although they both would have loved to come.

  “You could slow down. We’re not in any hurry,” Henry advised when she'd finished the first run through.

  “Right.” Breathless, she sucked in the cool air. She had to ace this advertorial. Orders had to pile in.

  Alex had said he might stop in, but she was glad he hadn’t arrived yet. She took it from the top, trying to relax. After all, she was talking about the bakery, something she loved like crazy. When she reached the end of her script, applause broke out. Blocking the blinding lights with one hand, she peered into the darkness. Alex and Jack stood behind Henry. Her pulse speeded up.

  Alex’s teeth flashed in a wide smile. “Think I hear the phones ringing.”

  “Very passionate and convincing.” Jack gave her double thumbs up.

  “Passionate?” She murmured, meeting Alex’s eyes. For a second, the darkened studio and the bystanders fell away. Just the two of them, back in Vegas where the passions ran so high, she’d done crazy things.

  Had it been like that for Alex too? Probably not. It was never like that for the guy.

  Thank goodness Jack stepped into the moment. “You're talking about your family, so of course you’re very credible, Vanessa.”

  A pleased blush tinged her cheeks.

  “Why don't we run through one more time? You’re on a roll,”
Henry suggested.

  “You’ll nail it,” Jack threw out, his words massaging her growing confidence.

  “Right. Just pretend we aren’t here.” Alex added with a sideways glance at Jack. Sometimes she thought these two didn’t get along.

  Vanessa did a final review of the props and began again. By the time she reached the end, she knew she had it. Done. She clutched the edge of the counter.

  “Great.” Stepping into the light, Jack gave her a pleased smile.

  “Nice.” Alex tugged on his hallmark red bow tie, this one with white polka dots. He looked super preppy in a navy sports coat and khaki slacks. Next to him, Jack looked pretty conservative in a gray business suit.

  Jack handed her some papers. “Media schedule.”

  Vanessa began to leaf through the plan. Looked pretty standard. Lots of news placements, always solid bets, although costly.

  While she reviewed it, Jack looked over her shoulder. His expensive cologne rolled over her. “The rep’s name and phone number is at the bottom if you want to make any changes.”

  “Great.” She tucked the media schedule into her basket. When she looked up, Alex was frowning.

  “Are we done here?” He glanced over at Henry, replaying the footage on a monitor.

  “Yep, we’re good.” Henry looked up. “We’ll do the editing later today, add some graphics and historical photos. Then I'll send you a rough version for review.”

  “Think I'll hit the road,” Jack said. “Nice seeing you again, Vanessa. Maybe we can get together soon and go over the schedule.”

  “Jack, if you think the media placements are all right, I'm sure Vanessa agrees,” Alex rapped out.

  Jack gave Alex a guarded smile. “Whatever works. Gotta run. Don't want to be late for the appointment with my attorney.”

  As they watched Jack walk away, Alex pulled out a cream envelope. “Thought you might want the details for the gala. Only a week away. Hope your schedule is free.”

  “Sure, not a problem.” She wanted to laugh…like she ever had any big plans. The gala and this taping both ranked as work in her mind. She tried to convince herself that shopping for a dress might be fun, even if it was a consignment shop.

  “Kate wants us to join her table. Her boyfriend has connections.”

  “Sounds good.” Looking up into his brown eyes, Vanessa felt her China Wall weaken. After four years, this? Really? His eyes were a man hole that could swallow her. Spending more time with Alex felt like a necessary danger. She had to get Randall's Whipped Cream Cakes running at top speed. If it meant spending an evening at a social event, fine.

  During the taping, Vanessa had her phone set on vibrate in her handbag. Now she turned the ringer back on, and Jillian's number flipped up. Uneasy, she called her sister back. “Jillian? Everything okay?”

  But it was Grandpa on the other end. “Nessie, I’m sorry to bother you, but Jillian, well, she fainted.”

  “Is she breathing?” Vanessa could barely get the words out.

  “She’s coming to now. Maybe she’s fine, but I don’t know.” Grandpa sounded worried. “She doesn’t look so good, Nessie.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Stuffing her phone back in her purse, she untied her apron and threw it into the basket. “I have to get home. Thank you for everything, Henry.” Grabbing her basket and purse, she headed for the exit sign.

  “Trouble?” Alex fell into step next to her.

  “My sister.” How much to tell him? “I have to get back and fast.”

  Alex took her basket. “Need help?”

  Where were her keys? “Thank you, but no.” Frustrated, she shook her oversized purse. Somewhere, the keys rattled, and she thrust one hand inside.

  Putting the basket down, Alex grabbed her elbow. “Vanessa, I'll drive. We'll come back later for your car.”

  She wasn't about to argue.

  Within minutes, they were squealing out of the parking lot in Alex’s black Mercedes and headed for the expressway.

  Her sister had to be fine. She couldn't lose her. Not after Mom.

  When they reached the bakery, Alex parked and followed her inside. Vanessa vaulted up the stairs, his footsteps close behind. Grandpa looked up with relief as the two of them barreled through the door. Jillian lay stretched out on the sofa, barely blinking when she saw Vanessa.

  “How do you feel, Jillian?”

  A blue vein throbbed in her sister’s forehead, and her lips barely moved when she whispered, “Just tired. That's all.”

  Tired? She could hardly talk. “We’re going to the hospital just to make sure that everything’s okay.” Vanessa’s mind raced. Bo would be up any minute. Grandpa couldn't drive, and he was needed in the bakery anyway. Christine was home sick that day.

  “Let me just get Bo.” She started for the back bedroom.

  “No, he shouldn’t come.” Jillian tried to push herself up on one elbow. “All those germs.”

  Vanessa wavered, head spinning.

  “I'll stay here. You go,” Alex said, voice matter-of-fact.

  Talk about a rock and a hard place. Vanessa turned, reaching up to massage the back of her neck. “All right. Grandpa will be downstairs if you have any questions.”

  Alex handed her his keys.

  “Thanks, Alex. Bo will want his sippy cup when he wakes up.”

  “In the refrigerator,” Grandpa broke in. “I already filled it.”

  “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” After stripping off his jacket and tossing it over the bentwood rocker, Alex helped her ease Jillian down the stairs and out to the car. Grandpa waited upstairs. Vanessa felt relieved when Jillian tried to shake their hands off as they eased her into the front seat of Alex’s car.

  “I’m fine,” she complained. But she didn’t look fine.

  “We’ll just get you checked out.” Vanessa exchanged a look with Alex. His tight lips told her she was doing the right thing.

  “Go. I’ve got it covered,” he tossed at her as she ran around the car and tore open the driver’s door.

  Adrenaline fueled her. Starting the car, she shoved it into gear.

  Next to her, looked like Jillian had fainted.

  Chapter 8

  “Let me show you around, Alex. Glad you're here because Bo can be a pistol. Not always sure I can handle him.” Hitching up his pants, Grandpa Joe headed down a narrow hallway, with Alex right behind him.

  One finger to his lips, Vanessa’s grandfather cracked open a door. The smell of baby powder tickled Alex’s nose. He peeked into the dimly-lit room over the older man’s balding head. With shades drawn against the afternoon sun, it wasn’t easy to make things out. Behind what looked like a safety bar, Bo was curled up in a twin bed, clutching a yellow blanket. Asleep, the little guy looked so small and helpless. Alex didn’t know a damn thing about dealing with a kid this size…or any kid, for that matter.

  Maybe Bo wouldn’t wake up on his watch.

  Leaving the door open a crack, Grandpa Joe walked back toward the kitchen. “How about a cup of coffee?” Like all the rooms in the apartment, the kitchen felt homey, sunlight spilling through lacy curtains.

  Alex shook his head. “You can go back downstairs. Do what you have to do. We’ll be fine.”

  Lips pursed, Grandpa Joe sized him up, like he wasn't quite sure. “Well, if you think you can handle it.”

  “No problem. After all, I was a kid once.” Brave words. “If I have any problems, I'll give you a shout.”

  When they reached the door, Grandpa fixed Alex with a steady glance. “You're a good lad. I'll be right downstairs. Holler if you need me.”

  After Vanessa's grandfather left, Alex studied the tidy living room. This family had fallen on hard times. The old, square TV told the story. From the worn arms of the green sofa to the scratches on the blond coffee table, the furniture had probably survived the seventies.

  Still, things felt cozy. Welcoming. Alex thought back to his own living room in Massachusetts, which the family
hardly ever used. His parents were always closeted in their offices upstairs. Most nights, Alex and Kate studied in their rooms. Well, Kate studied. He devoured the stack of action comic books hidden under the bed.

  Although his mother leaned toward Early American antiques, here a slew of family photos were the main decorating touch. From her grandparents’ wedding picture to candid shots of Vanessa and Jillian with their parents, framed pictures crowded the top of a bookshelf. More recent shots focused on Bo. He was the star, and his pretty mother sure looked like the girl Alex knew in Vegas, broad smile and sparkling blue eyes.

  But no pictures of Vanessa's wedding.

  Hoping the silence would continue, he sat down on the sofa, resting his arms on his knees. Wooden puzzles took up most of the coffee table, along with a stack of children's books. Red plastic crates in a corner of the room were heaped with brightly colored toys. The kid got a lot of attention.

  His parents had insisted on educational toys. All he’d really wanted was a train set. Any books or puzzles that stressed counting or the alphabet. Bo’s puzzles had dinosaurs and sharks. A two-story gas station came with cars, trucks and men in overalls. The work bench played music when he tapped a peg with a yellow hammer.

  Good God, how did you turn the thing off?

  Totally panicked, he stuffed a sofa pillow over the bench until the music stopped. For a second he sat there, listening. Last thing he wanted was to wake Bo up. Only the sound of the birds outside and traffic on the street. Shoulders relaxing, he tucked the pillow back in place.

  His watch told him that Vanessa and Jillian had only been gone for fifteen minutes. Felt like a week. Why not explore? Jumping up, Alex walked deeper into the apartment. Bypassing the baby’s room, he came to what was probably the grandfather's room. Nothing much to see there. The next room belonged to Jillian or Vanessa since the bedspread and curtains were pink and fussy. Standing in the doorway, he knew it was a sick room. Something just smelled weird. Why didn’t Vanessa talk about her sister's illness? Of course, his own parents had been terribly private. He supposed every family had its pride.

  As he stood in the hallway, he heard low-key warbling from Bo’s room. Sounded like he was up to bat, and he sucked in a breath.