by Kate Hardy
Again, the little girl laid the kitchen table for three. She’d just finished when they heard the crunch of car tyres on gravel.
‘Daddy’s home!’ Sienna rushed to the door to greet him.
Jamie looked a bit shell-shocked at the greeting, but to Sophie’s relief he hugged the little girl.
‘Daddy, the big hand on the clock is nearly at the top and the little hand is at six, so that means you have to wash your hands for dinner,’ Sienna said, and Sophie had to hide a smile.
She clearly didn’t hide it well enough, judging from the speaking look Jamie gave her. ‘We’ve been practising telling the time,’ she said. ‘Sienna’s very good. Maybe we can play “What’s the Time, Mr Wolf?” after dinner.’
Was that panic she saw in his eyes?
But what was so scary about playing with a child? Especially when that child was his own daughter?
Deciding now wasn’t the right time to tackle it, she served dinner. Jamie was careful to include Sienna in his compliments. But when the little girl was bringing a cupcake over to the table for her father, she tripped over her own feet and dropped the plate, which smashed on the tiles.
Sienna’s mouth opened wide in shock, and then she burst into tears.
On instinct, Sophie scooped her up and held her close. ‘It’s okay, sweetie. It was an accident, and it’s easily cleaned up.’
‘But I made that one specially for Daddy,’ Sienna sobbed. ‘It had extra sprinkles.’
‘We can put extra sprinkles on another one in a minute. Now, I want you to sit and cuddle Daddy for me so I know you’re not going to cut yourself, and I’ll clear up all the broken bits, okay?’ Sophie asked.
Sienna’s lower lip wobbled. ‘I broke the plate.’
‘It’s all right. I promise it doesn’t matter,’ Sophie said, and glared at Jamie over the top of Sienna’s head. Just when was he going to step in and reassure his daughter?
‘It’s fine, Sienna,’ he said. And he did at least hold her while Sophie was clearing up, though he looked uncomfortable.
Sophie helped the little girl to add more sprinkles to another cupcake, and Jamie was suitably complimentary. But Sophie’s temper was simmering just below boiling point. She agreed to do bathtime if he did the bedtime story, though she had to stop herself banging the pots and pans around while he read Sienna a story.
When she heard him come downstairs, she went into the hallway. ‘Can we have a word? Your office?’
‘Sure.’
She closed the door behind them. ‘I’m keeping my voice low so Sienna doesn’t hear me and start worrying. But I’m not your employee, so I don’t have to be careful what I say in front of you, and I’m telling you now that I’d like to shake you until your teeth rattle.’
He winced. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not me you should be apologising to, it’s your daughter. Every child makes a mistake or drops things or breaks things. It’s part of how they learn. It’s not as if she deliberately threw that plate against a wall.’
He rubbed a hand across his eyes. ‘I know.’
‘She needed reassurance. From you, not me.’ She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. ‘And, for your information, I know first-hand what I’m talking about.’ And even though she knew it was unfair to take out her frustration at her father’s behaviour on Jamie, she could see that he was making exactly the same mistake—and that wasn’t fair on Sienna. I’m speaking as someone who grew up desperate for her dad’s attention, but he was always so busy at work that he didn’t have time for his kids. I wanted to make sure I was the perfect daughter—I was his only daughter, so in my view I had to be better than Matt and Will, but I never felt as if I was good enough for him. He never made time for me. Is that how you want Sienna to grow up?’
‘No. Of course not.’ He looked shocked.
‘I don’t think you’re a monster,’ she said.
‘No?’ he asked dryly. ‘Doesn’t sound like it.’
‘I think you’re so caught up in your grief that you’re forgetting you’re not the only one who’s hurting. And the people around you tiptoe round you instead of calling you on it.’
‘Whereas you don’t tiptoe.’
‘Not any more, I don’t.’ She had, once. The people-pleasing from her early days had spilled into her teens and her early twenties. But her experiences with Dan and Joe had changed all that. She’d tried to be the perfect girlfriend, and she’d failed just as badly as when she’d tried to be the perfect daughter. And she’d got her heart broken twice in the process. ‘I’m twenty-nine. Old enough and wise enough to call it as I see it.’
* * *
Jamie looked at her. There was something in her expression that said the tiptoeing round people wasn’t just because of her dad—but now wasn’t the right time to ask her.
‘I’ll make more effort,’ he said.
‘Good. Because she’s a lovely little girl.’
Guilt squeezed round his heart like a vice. Except he wasn’t sure he had a heart any more. Just a block of ice.
So he focused on business to push the emotion away, the way he always did, to put himself back in control of the situation.
‘By the way, I asked my HR team to draw up a shortlist of the people in our team with experience in promotions as well as travel. They came up with a shortlist, and we have six people who’d be interested in the secondment. Perhaps you’d like to interview them tomorrow.’
She looked momentarily startled by his change of topic, but then nodded. ‘Thank you, I will. Do they all work at your office?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then it makes sense for me to come over to your office rather than call them all over to mine.’
He liked the way she thought. Economy of time. ‘I’ll make sure we keep a meeting room free for you tomorrow. Would half an hour each be enough?’
‘If I can see their CVs beforehand, yes.’
‘I’ll email them over to you. And, Sophie? I am sorry about what happened tonight. I don’t mean to be...’ His throat closed on the words. A bad father. He knew he’d let Fran down and he was letting Sienna down. But he didn’t know how to be any different.
She shrugged. ‘Tomorrow’s another day. Being a parent isn’t easy. Draw a line under today and try again.’
Given her fierceness earlier, he was surprised that she was being so kind. And the way she’d phrased it... ‘Are you sure you’re not secretly a trained nanny?’
She smiled, then, and he was shocked to feel awareness pulsing through him. Sophie Firth had a beautiful mouth, and he actually found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her.
Oh, for pity’s sake.
This wasn’t fair on either of them. He was really going to have to keep himself in check.
‘I’m just an ordinary woman,’ she said.
No, he thought, you’re much more than that. And I can’t let myself notice.
He needed to put a barrier between them; yet at the same time he found himself wanting to be with her. Learning what made her tick. Which was crazy. He couldn’t do that.
‘I’d better let you get on. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said.
‘Okay.’
She’d just got to the door when he said her name. She turned around and looked at him. And either his feelings were written all over his face or she’d picked it up in his voice, because she walked right back over to him.
‘I think,’ he said, ‘I need help. With Sienna. Fixing all the stuff that...’ He dragged in a breath. All the stuff he was getting so badly wrong. ‘I don’t have the right to ask you. We hardly know each other.’
‘But I grew up with a workaholic dad. I can see things from Sienna’s point of view—and from yours. So I’m the obvious person to ask,’ she said.
His thoughts exactly.
‘Plus I’m not your employee. So I’m not going to tiptoe round you or be scared to tell you what I think.’
Could he?
Should he?
But her dark, dark eyes weren’t full of pity. They were full of warmth. Of kindness. Of understanding. Part of him desperately wanted her help; part of him wanted to keep his distance and his self-control.
Though he knew he had to do the right thing, for his daughter’s sake. Even if it cost him personally.
‘Help me, Sophie,’ he said softly. ‘Please.’
She reached over his desk and squeezed his hands briefly. Again, it wasn’t pity in her face but fellow feeling; and again, he felt that completely inappropriate leap of his libido.
‘Yes,’ she said.
CHAPTER THREE
THE NEXT MORNING, after dropping Sienna at nursery school, Sophie drove to Jamie’s office rather than her own. He’d clearly briefed Karen, the head of his HR department, who showed her to the interview room and brought her coffee and a jug of water.
All the candidates on the shortlist were good and would fit in well with her team, but by the end of the interviews Sophie had two definite choices. She just needed to run them by Jamie first. She texted him.
Can I talk to you for five minutes re interviews?
He called her back immediately. ‘Sure. Do you have time for lunch?’
‘You actually take a lunch break?’ she asked.
‘Usually it’s a sandwich at my desk,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s probably a better idea to be away from the building if you want to discuss the interviews.’
‘Okay.’
‘You don’t usually have a lunch break, either, do you?’ he asked.
‘Busted. Same as you,’ she admitted.
‘Meet you in the lobby in five minutes,’ he said.
She thanked Karen for her help, promised to give her a final answer in an hour’s time, and went to meet Jamie in the lobby.
‘There’s a nice café round the corner,’ he said.
‘That sounds good.’
She let him shepherd her out to the café, where they ordered coffee and sandwiches, and found a quiet corner table.
‘So how did it go?’ he asked.
‘They were all good candidates. But two of them stood out for me. I just wanted to run them by you to see what you thought.’ She passed him the files.
‘Good choice. That’s who I would’ve picked,’ he said.
‘So it’s a two-month secondment?’
‘If that gives you enough time.’
‘Just about. Thanks. Though we need to sort out salary payments and what have you.’
‘Karen can advise you on the details,’ he said.
‘So that’s number one ticked off the list,’ she said. ‘Now for number two.’
‘Number two?’
‘What we discussed last night.’
* * *
When he’d asked her to help him.
When he’d finally admitted that he was struggling to be a dad and hated that he was getting it so wrong. Jamie hadn’t told her yet just why he found it so hard, but he would. In a few days. The more time he spent with her, the more he found himself trusting her. Eva was right about Sophie being utterly reliable.
But there was more to her than that. Something that he couldn’t let himself think about. So he’d have to keep it strictly business, for his daughter’s sake.
‘Firstly,’ she said, ‘I think we need to rejig your routine so you always eat dinner with Sienna.’
‘What if something really big crops up at the office—something that only I can deal with?’ he asked.
‘Something that big won’t happen every month, let alone every day,’ she said. ‘Okay. If there’s a major crisis, then you call in advance and you explain it to her at her level.’
So he’d be eating dinner with Sienna every night. Seeing Fran’s face in hers, and feeling the guilt twist in his gut. But he knew Sophie was right. For Sienna’s sake, he needed to do this.
‘Secondly,’ she said, ‘you need to do the bedtime story every night, because it’s good for children to have a male role model as well as a female one when it comes to reading.’
‘That sounds like something your sister-in-law would say,’ he said.
‘Got it in one,’ she informed him cheerfully.
And how strange that the twinkle in her eye made his heart feel as if it had done a flip. Apart from the fact that that was anatomically impossible, it was totally inappropriate. Sophie was his business partner and temporary nanny. He shouldn’t blur the boundaries and make this personal.
‘Thirdly, from what I can make out, Sienna gets looked after by the nanny at weekends.’
‘Yes.’ He flapped a dismissive hand. ‘Because I have to work.’
‘Not every single hour of every single day, you don’t. You need to learn to delegate,’ she said. ‘If you’re going to build a bond with Sienna, you need to spend time with her—and that means doing things with her at weekends.’
He went cold. Getting really involved. Getting close to someone else he could lose with no warning. And he was like his own parents; he wasn’t a natural at dealing with children. He didn’t know how to relate to them. Plus he loathed all the tears, tantrums and screaming that seemed to go hand in hand with the playground. ‘Please don’t suggest I should take her to one of those play places.’
‘Play places?’ She looked baffled.
‘You know the sort I mean—the ones kids get invited to for birthday parties. The places with a ball pit and slides and what feels like wall-to-wall screaming.’ He’d always hated them and had persuaded Fran to take Sienna to them while he escaped gratefully to the office.
Sophie grinned. ‘They’re not that bad.’
‘Yes, they are,’ he said feelingly.
She looked at him, her dark eyes widening. ‘Hang on. Are you telling me that Sienna never goes to birthday parties?’
‘Of course she does.’
She folded her arms. ‘But?’
‘Fran used to take her. Cindy takes her now,’ he admitted.
‘Okay. Well, doing things with her that you hate probably isn’t the best idea. Scratch the play places, but there are other things you can do. You could start with the park on a Sunday morning—even if you just go for a walk and talk about what you see there, which dogs she likes and that sort of thing. Though Hattie and Sam love the swings and the slide, and if you time it right the play area in the park isn’t usually that crowded.’
‘Right.’ He didn’t believe a word of it.
‘And it’s Bonfire Night this weekend,’ she said. ‘I did a bit of research last night, and there are a few firework displays scheduled around here on Saturday night, including one at a local infants’ school. I’ll email you the details.’
‘Bonfire Night.’ Fran had loved fireworks. They’d had fireworks at their wedding. And Jamie had avoided them ever since Fran’s death. Fireworks were the last thing he wanted to see.
‘It’ll be fun,’ Sophie said.
No, it wouldn’t. It would be hell.
‘The school display is probably your best bet. It’ll be small, they usually have quieter fireworks so the younger ones aren’t scared by loud bangs, and there will be stalls with hot dogs and hot chocolate and glowies.’
‘Glowies?’ he asked, mystified.
She smiled. ‘Necklaces, wands, tiaras and glowsticks. Kids of Sienna’s age absolutely love them.’
‘How do you know all this stuff?’
‘Because I went to a firework display with Hattie last year. And it’s worth giving in and buying everything on the stall that she likes, because there’s no chance of losing Sienna for e
ven a second in the crowd if she’s lit up like a firework herself.’
‘Got you,’ he said. And maybe she had a point. Maybe it was time he faced his demons once and for all. Fireworks and Fran and guilt. ‘All right.’ He paused. ‘Are you busy on Saturday night?’
‘I’m supposed to be catching up with work. Though I guess I can move things round,’ she said carefully.
It would be unfair of him to ask her, especially as he knew she was the kind of person who put herself out to help people and would find it hard to say no. But he couldn’t face doing this all on his own. Being the single dad, seeing the pity and sympathy in people’s eyes—pity he didn’t want, and sympathy he didn’t deserve. ‘Would you come with us?’ he asked. ‘Please?’
‘Okay,’ she said. Just as he’d known she would.
‘I know I’m taking time out of things you’d want to do for your own business,’ he said. ‘And maybe I can help a bit with that.’ Remembering what she’d insisted on as part of their agreement, he added swiftly, ‘Not interfering. More like being a sounding board.’ As she was kind of acting for him, where Sierra was concerned.
‘A sounding board,’ she said.
‘Someone to bounce ideas off. Someone to listen. And you could even delegate some stuff to me.’ He paused. ‘Tell me about the Weddings Abroad thing.’ Where business was concerned, he felt much more at home, He knew what he was doing. There were no emotions to mess things up.
‘It came out of the event management,’ she said. ‘We plan all kinds of events, from corporate to personal—product launches, conferences, birthday parties and weddings. One of my brides was in tears, a fortnight before her wedding, because there were so many family arguments and everyone was being difficult and refusing to agree on anything. She said to me she wished she and her partner had decided to elope to Cuba instead, and actually asked me if I could cancel everything and arrange it.’
He smiled, guessing that she would’ve risen to the challenge. ‘Did you?’
