by Susan Meier
He faced her, catching the gaze of her stunning emerald eyes. He’d seen her dressed up, dressed down, naked. With hair up, hair down, hair a mess. She always stole his breath. That was what had gotten him into trouble with her. They hadn’t needed to talk, hadn’t needed to be friends. He just loved looking at her, touching her. And now they had no common ground, except their baby.
“You could dress up if you like. But really, just take off that robe and put on a pair of pants and you’d be fine.”
She winced. “You noticed I didn’t have pants on?”
“Hard not to when you showed me your belly. I didn’t question it, just figured you wanted to be comfortable.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal, but if the awe at feeling his child move hadn’t overwhelmed him, he would have been annihilated by her bare legs.
She rose from the table too. “Okay.” She turned and headed to her room then spun around again. “Is your mom expecting us?”
“Before we left New York, I had one of my assistants let her know I’d be meeting her tomorrow morning after breakfast, and I told the front desk here to call her to let her know we’d arrived. She’s in a nearby hotel. I wanted to put a little space between us to give us some breathing room.”
She nodded. “Okay. Good night.”
He smiled and watched as she walked away, then raced to his room. They’d had an hour of normal conversation. She’d shown him the baby, let him feel his child move. And tomorrow morning, he was going to lead her into his mother’s suite, like a lamb to the slaughter?
That would ruin every good thing that had happened between them. Control freak that he was, he refused to lose the good will she was showing him, and there was only one way to soften that awkward meeting.
He pulled out his cell phone and video called his mom.
When she answered, her face appeared on his screen. “Jake? Don’t tell me you’re phoning to cancel tomorrow morning. I bowed out of a spa trip with my friends to see you. You said it was urgent.”
“It is. Look, Mom, I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you to go bananas.”
She lifted her aristocratic nose as she fluffed out her perfectly coiffed yellow hair. “I don’t go bananas.”
“You’re going to when you hear this... I just found out I’m going to be a dad.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“An old girlfriend is pregnant.”
Her mouth fell open, then closed, then fell open again.
“You’re going to be a grandmother.”
“Oh, my God!”
“I came here to tell you that, with Avery, but I suddenly realized it wasn’t fair to either of you to have that kind of awkward meeting. I’m telling you now so that when we come to your suite tomorrow morning, you can be nice to her.”
Her head rose as her spine stiffened. “I’m always nice.”
“You’re always proper.”
“I’m thrilled at becoming a grandmother.”
“Yes. Well, you don’t know the whole story. Avery is six months pregnant.”
Her mouth fell open again. “And you’re only telling me now!”
“I just found out myself.”
“Oh.” She blinked long lashes over her perfect sky-blue eyes. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” She pulled in a shivery breath. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”
He laughed. “Yes.”
“We’ll have a baby to spoil.”
“Maybe not spoil. Avery’s very down-to-earth.”
“Is she pretty? Is our grandchild going to be beautiful because their mother is beautiful?”
“Hey, I had a hand in this too.”
“I know that, dear, but take your good genes and add a beautiful mother and we could end up with a stunning child.”
He laughed. “You’re okay with this?”
“Okay? For Pete’s sake, Mr. Worry Wart, I’m over the moon. Since your father’s death I’ve been so out of sorts.” She stopped, sucked in a breath and totally changed the subject, obviously not wanting to talk about her husband dying. “I’d planned on having only coffee for our visit tomorrow. I’ll need to get something else. What does she drink? Soda? Water?”
“She seems to like apple juice.”
“Then that’s what I’ll get. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hung up the phone surprised at how well that had gone, then he groaned. His mother might be thrilled, but there was no way in hell she’d let Avery off the hook for keeping the pregnancy from them. She’d say something—
Well, if she did he would be in the room with them and he would smooth it over.
He groaned. Really? In the plane, he’d insulted her over using her laptop. He really didn’t know enough about her to know what smoothed things over or riled her even more. In fact, he was pretty good at riling her. And in spite of his attempt to fix things with his mom, seeing her tomorrow morning could still be a disaster.
* * *
For Avery, meeting Jake’s mom was like getting an audience with the queen.
When Jake knocked on the door of his mother’s suite at the plush Le Bristol hotel, a maid answered. She led them from the entryway into a sitting room with a view of the city. Maureen McCallan sat on a Queen Anne chair to the right of a sofa. Her yellow hair had been styled in a perfect chignon. Her black dress and pearls screamed high society. Old-school high society.
Avery gave a silent prayer of thanks that she’d put on the dress she’d packed. The pretty royal blue sheath brought out the best in her coloring and though it didn’t exactly hide her stomach, it didn’t accent it either.
Mrs. McCallan waited for Jake to walk over and lean down to kiss her perfectly powdered cheek.
“Mom. You look great.”
“Even one day in Paris works wonders.” She looked at Avery. “And who is this?”
“I’m Avery Novak, Mrs. McCallan,” Avery said, stepping in to shake her hand.
His mom took the hand Avery offered, but she smiled coolly as she glanced at Avery’s belly. “It looks like you have something to tell me.”
Jake said, “Mom!”
His mom took a long, deep breath. “So... I’m going to be a grandmother?”
“Yes.”
Her lips twisted as she tried to hold back a smile. “Really? Have you done a DNA test?”
Jake shook his head, clearly annoyed, but said, “Avery would sometimes rather wrestle a bear than be in the same room with me. If this wasn’t my baby, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Maureen laughed. “So what is it you don’t like, Avery? Our money, our lifestyle, our name?”
“All of them, ma’am, except the name. Nothing wrong with the name McCallan.”
“At least you have the decency to be honest.”
“Oh, she’ll be decent like that more than any of us really wants.”
“Good. I like knowing what or whom I’m dealing with.” She rose from the chair. “Now, we were supposed to have coffee, but you can’t drink coffee,” she said to Avery as she walked to a discreet bar in the corner where a silver tea service sat on a silver tray. “I do however have an assortment of juices. What would you like?”
“Apple if you have it.”
“Apple it is.”
She brought coffee and juice over to Jake and Avery who had settled on a comfortable blue sofa, then returned to her Queen Anne chair.
“Tell me everything.”
Avery held back a wince. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Did you have morning sickness?”
“Horribly.”
Maureen clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s great. Legend in our family is that morning sickness means your child will have a head full of hair.”
Avery fingered her own thick hair. “If he’s anything like me, he won’t have to
worry about that.”
Maureen gasped. “He? You know it’s a boy?”
“No. It’s just easier to say he rather than he or she all the time.”
“Too bad. I’d like a boy.” Maureen stopped and smiled. “But a little girl would be so much fun. Imagine the clothes we could buy for her!”
“Mom, Avery may not want us to overindulge her.”
“I’m returning to my home in Pennsylvania,” Avery said. “It’s a small town. She might not want to be wearing party dresses and tiaras.”
Maureen laughed. “I was thinking more along the line of tights and long tops. Saw the cutest outfit the other day in the park. A baby had on caramel-colored tights with a giraffe-print top. So cute.”
Avery smiled. “It sounds cute.” It really did and it also didn’t seem over-the-top or off-the-wall. “I’ve always been a sucker for black patent leather Mary Janes.”
“Oh, I love those.” Maureen smiled at Avery then said, “You really have to move to Pennsylvania?”
Jake said, “She’s starting a law practice in her hometown.”
“Oh.”
“I wouldn’t ever deprive you the chance of seeing your grandchild though.” The words spilled out, a combination of Avery’s guilt over keeping the pregnancy a secret and the realization that she’d deprived Jake’s family. “Pennsylvania’s not that far away.”
“No. It isn’t,” Maureen said congenially.
Avery almost relaxed, but the memory of meeting her dad’s boss at company picnics rose in her brain. Paul Barnes had been the epitome of politeness. He’d played softball, made ice cream sundaes for the kids and doled out the mashed potatoes for the evening buffet.
But he hadn’t had an ounce of compassion for her father. He hadn’t even considered that her dad had been telling the truth when he said he hadn’t stolen the money missing from their accounts. When evidence came up that proved he was innocent, Barnes hadn’t believed it. He’d contested her father getting a new trial.
She told herself to stop being suspicious and tried to push the memory of six poverty-stricken years out of her head, as she smiled at Jake’s mom. She relayed the baby’s due date, her doctor’s name and the hospital where she planned to give birth.
“Would it be too much to ask for me to be there?”
Avery laughed. “The labor room is fine, but I don’t want anybody in the delivery room.”
Maureen laughed. “I’ll take what I can get.” She rose from her chair. “I hate to push you out but I’m having lunch with friends and need to change.”
Jake rose too and turned to offer Avery a hand to stand. “That’s fine. We were planning on heading home anyway.”
“Heading home? We barely had a chance to talk! Besides, you have a ball on Saturday.”
“I decided to skip it, so I can get Avery home.”
Maureen said, “You’ll do no such thing.” She pulled in a breath and faced Avery. “Avery, have you ever seen Paris?”
“No.”
“Fabulous. Jake can show you around today. We can have dinner tonight at eight and tomorrow we’ll all go to the ball together.”
Jake said, “Mom, Avery has things to attend to—”
But Avery interrupted him. She knew his mom would probably come up with a million questions today and she’d want to talk again tonight. She owed the woman that much. Plus, she really, really wanted to see Paris.
“I’d actually like to tour the city.”
Jake caught her gaze. “Really?”
She laughed. “I’m starting a law firm that helps people who fall between the cracks of public defenders and high-priced counsel. I’m not going to have money for travel. This will probably be the only time I’m in Paris. I’d like to see at least some of it.”
Maureen clapped her hands together. “That’s fabulous! Meet me here around seven-thirty for drinks.”
CHAPTER SIX
THEY STEPPED OUT of Le Bristol, onto the quiet street. Jake sucked in a long breath. “Thank you.”
She faced him, her smile lighting her eyes. He could have stared into those green orbs forever, but she said, “For what?”
He broke the spell by looking away. “For agreeing to stay.”
She laughed. “I meant what I said about wanting to see Paris.”
He supposed that could be true, but there was more behind what she’d done than a desire to see the city. She hadn’t merely been kind to his mother; she’d been respectful. And so open about everything that his mother had been like her old self. He hadn’t seen that happiness on his mother’s face since before his father’s death.
He’d never realized a grandchild would turn her mood around, then wondered why he hadn’t. She needed something in her life right now. Someone to love. And what better than a baby?
His appreciation for Avery’s kindness multiplied exponentially.
“I’ll be happy to show you Paris. I’m at your disposal for the whole day.”
They reached the corner of the hotel. With their view unobstructed, they could see the Eiffel Tower.
She gasped. “That’s what I want to see.”
He said, “Okay,” and pulled out his phone to call for a car, but she stopped him.
“Why don’t we walk?”
He gaped at her. “Walk?” He switched screens on his phone and began searching for the distance from the Bristol to the Eiffel Tower. “I know it looks like it’s just right over there.” The answer popped up and he displayed the phone to her. “But it’s almost two miles.”
She shrugged. “So? I want to see Paris, but I don’t just want to see things like the Eiffel Tower. I want to see Paris. Walk the streets.” She pulled in a long drink of air. “Breathe in the smells.” She sniffed again. “What is that?”
He laughed. “Any one of a number of restaurants.” The temptation to take her hand rose in him. The impulse was so natural it would have made him caution himself about appreciating Avery so much that he did something stupid, except they’d dated. Three weeks might not seem like a long time, but it had set precedents, habits that were slowly seeping into their association again.
Especially since they were getting along. All he’d remembered from their time together was sex and arguments over politics. But now that they were getting along, the arguments faded into nothing and memories of how soft she was rolled through him.
Morning sun poured down on them. The scents, sights and sounds of Paris flowed around them. Resisting the urge to hold her hand, he motioned for her to start walking.
They bumped along with other tourists, glancing around, took a side street or two, bobbed in and out of shops along the way, not really saying anything. When they came to the Gagosian Gallery, she stopped.
“This is what I’m talking about. Walking, we’ll find things like this and can pop in and have a look around.”
It wasn’t what he’d usually do. He liked plans. He didn’t just “pop into” art galleries or museums any more than he’d think he could pop into the ballet. But he was resisting their attraction and they weren’t arguing, so why spoil it?
In fact, he was beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t try to use it. Rather than walk silently through the streets, they could be talking. Learning about each other. She’d already told him about her dad. He knew about her job from Pete Waters. But she knew virtually nothing about him.
Which might be why she constantly drew all the wrong conclusions.
He opened the door for her and they entered. He knew the exhibits changed regularly, so he wasn’t sure what they would find. Today, bright paintings stood out in stark contrast against white walls. She gazed around with a look of such wonder that he laughed.
“You like?”
She glanced at him. “You don’t?”
And here was his first chance to tell her something about himsel
f. “When it comes to art, I’m a take-it-or-leave-it kind of guy.”
She ducked into the first exhibit. “You’re telling me you don’t like art?”
“I prefer practical things over showy. Things like sofas and cabinets. A cleverly arranged kitchen. That’s art to me.”
She paused in front of a painting, but looked at him. “I get that you’re practical, but a kitchen as art? Really?”
“I cook.”
She laughed. “You make bagels.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Learned to cook when I was at university, so I wouldn’t starve.”
She scoffed. “Right.” Her gaze took a trip down his proper navy blue blazer and gray trousers. “Like a McCallan would ever starve.”
It wasn’t the first time one of her digs had gotten to him. But it was the first time he realized sidestepping her insults had kept them from getting to know each other. She thought the rich had it so easy? Well, she hadn’t lived with his father.
“While I was at university, my father made me live on an allowance that was just barely enough to get by for a month. I quickly discovered how much cheaper it was to cook for myself than eat out, and started making my own breakfast, lunch and dinner. I also started saving chunks of each month’s deposit.”
She stopped walking and genuinely seemed interested. “I get the cooking but why save some of your allowance?”
“Because my dad had a tendency to do odd things at the drop of a hat. I went to the house for dinner on Friday nights and one Friday he got it in his head that I was pampered. The next month he withheld my allowance to teach me coping skills.”
She stared at him. “He held back the money you depended on to live?”
He sniffed a laugh. “More than once. And he didn’t just do that to me. When my brother Seth entered university, Dad did it to him too. It sounds crazy—” It was crazy and cruel and arbitrary, and just thinking about it filled his veins with the fire of anger, but this was his life. Probably the most important thing he could tell her so she could get to know him. “But in my father’s mind, he was teaching us discipline and street smarts.”
“It sounds like a mind game to me.”
