The Baby Arrangement

by Lisa Dyson

  Pete grinned. “I have to say I’m also wondering what you’re up to, Auntie Em.” Nick’s mother’s given name was Emily, but most people shortened it to Em. When Nick’s parents had adopted Pete after his own parents died in a car accident when he was eight, Nick’s mom suggested Pete call them Mom and Dad if he was comfortable doing so. Pete had acquiesced when it came to Dad, but, after seeing The Wizard of Oz, he’d always called Nick’s mom Auntie Em and wasn’t about to call her anything else.

  His mother pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Pete, probably surprised that he hadn’t automatically taken her side against Nick for once.

  “As a matter of fact,” Nick’s mother said to Pete, “I’m glad you’re here, too.” She began digging through her purse until she came up with a few slips of paper. “A friend of mine is opening a pop-up restaurant tonight, and I’d like you both to come with me.” She looked expectantly at them. “It’s more like an open house or cocktail party. My friend is showcasing her tapas menu and wants to generate some financial interest in the restaurant she’s hoping to open.”

  Nick looked at Pete, who shrugged, and then back at his mother. “Who is this friend?” With his restaurant in the heart of Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, he was usually pretty savvy about what was going on with other restaurants in the area.

  She didn’t meet his eyes, instead concentrating on moving things around in her purse. “No one special. Just someone I met at my yoga class. She’s a lovely woman. We went for coffee the other day, and she invited me to come tonight and to bring a few people.”

  “No reservations required?” Nick was suspicious of the whole setup. His mother had been a matchmaker her entire life. And since Pete had a new woman on his arm every week or two, her attention was fixated more on Nick’s lack of female companionship. She claimed she wasn’t getting any younger and wanted grandchildren.

  She held out the slips of paper she’d taken from her purse. “I was waiting for you to agree to come. Here’s a ticket for each of you. The address and time are right there.” She paused, then looked from one man to the other. “Would you like to bring someone with you?”

  “No, thanks,” Nick said.

  “I might,” Pete said, catching Nick off guard.

  “You would?” Nick narrowed his eyes at Pete.

  “Sure. Why not?” Pete took a second ticket from Nick’s mother. “I’ve got someone in mind.”

  “Well, darn,” she said to Pete. “I was thinking you and Pinar, tonight’s pop-up restaurateur, might hit it off.”

  “You did?” Nick stopped short before asking why she thought the woman was right for Pete and not Nick. Never mind. He wasn’t interested anyway.

  “Yes, dear,” she said, tilting her head at his question. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll see you both later, then.” She waved over her shoulder as she hurried out the back door that led to the alley behind the restaurant.

  “What do you suppose that was all about?” Nick asked Pete when they were alone again.

  Pete shrugged. “Beats me. You know how she is.”

  He certainly did, and that’s exactly why he was concerned.

  * * *

  LATE MONDAY AFTERNOON, Bree entered the main conference room at the BeeTee office. Roxie, Amber and Hannah were already seated, silent as they were busy on laptops or cell phones.

  She pulled out her chair at the head of the table, setting her glass of water down in front of her as she lowered herself into her seat. “Would you mind moving your coffee cup?” she asked Amber, who sat to her right.

  Amber’s head jerked up, and she narrowed her dark eyes as she moved the cup. “You’re still not able to drink coffee?”

  “Are you sick?” Roxie asked, looking up from her phone to join the conversation from her place next to Amber. “You haven’t been right since the island. That was two weeks ago.”

  Hannah added in her two cents. “Yeah. You’ve never been able to survive without coffee.”

  Bree shrugged. “I don’t know. Just the smell of it makes me nauseous. Ever since we got back from vacation.”

  “But a hangover doesn’t last two weeks,” Roxie pointed out. “Maybe you should see a doctor. Could be an ulcer or something.”

  Bree waved away her suggestion. “I’m fine. I’ve probably just upset my stomach lining with so much alcohol and now I’m paying the price.” She paused. “Maybe it’s a good thing, healthwise. I’ve not only given up alcohol but coffee, too. I’m sure this is just temporary.” She consulted the list of discussion items she’d brought with her. “Let’s get started. I’d like to get home and freshen up before we head to dinner.”

  The women nodded in agreement and got down to business. They spent the next hour on each of their departments. Roxie, the most outgoing of the group, was head of marketing. Amber was head of technology, a role in which her confidence and skill served her well. And Hannah was the artistic one of the group who consulted with clients about their websites and corporate logos.

  Bree had been blessed with a group of friends who got along so wonderfully while having entirely different talents to offer BeeTee. And they worked well together when it came to making big decisions.

  “Everything sounds good,” Bree announced after they’d each finished briefing her. “Is there anything else I should know about Pinar Garcia and her restaurant?” They’d already decided to back her restaurant, but hadn’t told Pinar yet. Going to her pop-up tonight was just a formality to see how she handled a hungry crowd.

  “Nothing new,” Roxie said. “Her background check came back and all seems fine. Nothing more than the student loan she’s nearly repaid and no criminal record.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Bree gathered her things and paused before standing. “What time is dinner?”

  “Six to nine,” Hannah said. “Why don’t we meet at The Tides around six thirty?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Roxie said. “Pinar said they have our names at the door.”

  Bree nodded and the others began talking about what they were going to wear this evening. She left the conference room and headed back to her office. She had one last phone call to return before going home.

  The advantage of locating her company in Arlington, Virginia, was the ability to walk home from work to her high-rise condo. The two-block distance was usually not a problem weatherwise except for early February days like today with freezing rain. If given the choice, she would rather take a long soak in her tub and then put on her comfy PJs than go out tonight. But this was her job, and this was important. She blamed her recent lack of energy on working too hard without her usual high doses of caffeine, as well as it being the most dreary month of the year.

  By the time she reached the restaurant later, there was a line of people to go in.

  “Come to the front.” Roxie had appeared behind her. “You don’t need to wait out here.”

  Bree wasn’t the type to use her influence when it meant others couldn’t benefit, as well, but she did as Roxie suggested. After giving her name to the woman at the hostess desk, Bree said to her, “Several people are standing outside getting wet. Is there any way you can get them inside quicker?”

  The young hostess appeared startled. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Tucker.” She came around the podium. “I’ll make sure they get inside. There’s probably enough room for them to wait in the entranceway. And I’ll try to get them checked in faster.”

  Bree nodded her approval. “Great. We want the patrons to enjoy the food and not be turned off before they get to try it.”

  “Nice going,” Roxie said when the girl was out of earshot. “The hostess, I think her name is Calista, is Pinar’s younger sister. I’m not sure she has much experience, so I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “Good idea,” Bree said. “Let’s check out the food. I’m starving.”

  “
Me, too.”

  The restaurant was set up with the eatery’s usual tables and chairs, but a long table with food on it buffet-style had been added at the far end of the room. The idea for Pinar’s pop-up restaurant was to offer a tapas-only dinner, but not in a formal dinner style. Instead, diners could mix and mingle, stand or sit, whatever they preferred. More like a casual cocktail party than a sit-down dinner, which was a nice nod to the origin of tapas. Pinar had explained that the small plates had been initially designed to cover glasses of alcohol, specifically sherry, to keep the fruit flies away.

  The decor in The Tides restaurant was nautical, but definitely on the tasteful side—no large fish hanging from the ceiling or nets filled with crustaceans. Instead, the pale blues and greens on the walls were a nice backdrop to ocean vistas in framed photographs, as well as oil and watercolor depictions of calm seas.

  Bree had been to The Tides many times. Her favorite dish was their mahimahi in a bourbon sauce, quite different from the Spanish tapas laid out on the table in front of her for this pop-up restaurant event.

  She recognized some of the food, like empanadas and olives stuffed with anchovies. But others were new to her. Pinar had been smart to put little signs in front of each platter to tell diners what they were eating.

  There was a potato dish with a sauce she couldn’t identify, and chorizo cooked in wine that she could probably make a meal of by itself.

  “How do you think it’s going?” Pinar had made her way through the throng of people to the corner where Bree stood with her plate of food. “We have a good turnout, even with the bad weather.”

  Bree nodded. “Lots of hungry people.” She gestured with her plate. “Great food, too.” Although she hadn’t done more than nibble because her stomach still wasn’t feeling quite right. There was a smell she was detecting that seemed to be causing the upset to increase. No need to tell Pinar that, though. She had enough to think about.

  Pinar colored slightly at Bree’s compliment. “Thank you. I’m so glad you approve of the menu.”

  “I do. I think this is a great start for your restaurant. Why don’t you make an appointment with me some time this week, and we’ll discuss the terms of your contract.”

  Pinar’s eyes widened. “Thank you so much! You don’t know what your financial help means to me.”

  Actually, she did know, but she didn’t correct Pinar. “I’m glad we’ll be able to provide it. You have a good product and deserve to have a chance to make a go of it.”

  Pinar was still speaking when Bree’s attention was drawn across the restaurant to the entrance. Her eyes must be deceiving her because the two men talking to the hostess looked exactly like—

  Nick turned in her direction and their eyes locked. It was him. What was he doing here? What were the odds that they’d be in the same place at the same time?

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away, even as he left his cousin behind and walked straight toward her.

  * * *

  ROXIE COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. She must be seeing things. Was that really Pete with a girl on his arm? The same man who had been all over Roxie just two weeks ago on Isla de la Blanca and claimed he couldn’t wait to see her when they got back to Virginia?

  She ought to give him a piece of her mind since she hadn’t heard a word from him since. Straightening her back, she took a step forward and stopped abruptly. He hadn’t seen her yet. Maybe she should just play it cool and act like she didn’t care.

  Because that was the truth. She didn’t care what he did or with whom he did it. She was in a relationship. A long-distance one, but still a relationship. Even though she hadn’t heard from Jim in over a week, she was still unavailable to Pete. Besides, he was obviously a playboy who collected women like some people collected coins.

  Except it looked as if the “coins” he gathered in the form of women were casually tossed into a fountain when he got bored with them.

  She was just glad she’d kept things between them casual, a harmless flirtation. She didn’t need to be another one of his easy conquests.

  “Isn’t that Pete?” Amber approached Roxie from behind, peering over her shoulder.

  Roxie shrugged, acting as if she didn’t care. “So what if it is?”

  “Sorry. I’m just stating the obvious.” Amber moved to stand next to Roxie. “Did you see who arrived with him?” She motioned with her head.

  Roxie turned her head slightly, not terribly surprised to see that Nick had come in behind Pete. The woman was clinging to Pete as if she might lose him forever if she let go. Just two weeks ago, Roxie had been the one who’d had his complete attention.

  Well, good for him.

  Amber spoke again. “Uh-oh. Bree just saw Nick and she doesn’t look pleased.”

  Roxie narrowed her eyes at Amber. “Do you think something happened between those two?”

  Amber shrugged. “Not that I know of, but she doesn’t look happy with him. And not a casual-friends kind of unhappy, either.”

  “You’re right about that. She practically has steam coming out of her ears.”

  Amber grabbed Roxie’s elbow and pulled her toward Bree, who was headed in Nick and Pete’s direction. “Let’s get closer so we can find out what’s going on.”

  Roxie went willingly, wondering why Bree and Nick hadn’t connected before now if something had gone down between them. They’d been home from their vacations for two weeks. And it had also been plenty of time for Bree to mention to her best friends if something had happened between Nick and her.

  Amber stopped several feet away from the pair, causing Roxie to almost run into her. “Stay right here,” Amber instructed. “We don’t want to be too obvious.”

  There were too many other people around for them to hear the conversation. “We need to move closer,” Roxie said. “I can’t tell what they’re saying.”

  “Watch their mouths,” Amber said. “They’re so focused on their conversation that they don’t even know anyone else is around. Intense.” Amber squinted and spoke out of the side of her mouth. “Nick is saying ‘I wasn’t lying to you.’ Now Bree says, ‘You lied by omission.’” Amber turned to Roxie. “What do you suppose that means?”

  Roxie shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe he’s married and he forgot to tell her?” She used finger quotes to make her point.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Roxie saw Pete with his chick du jour. She was determined to act nonchalant, no matter how much she wanted to walk over to him and demand an explanation for why he hadn’t contacted her. But when it came right down to it, he had nothing to explain. He was free to do whatever he pleased.

  And so was she.

  Amber was reading lips again. “Something about living in DC and she’s shaking her head.” Amber looked at Roxie. “Did they talk at all back on the island?”

  Roxie had had enough. She grabbed Amber’s elbow and pulled her away. “This is crazy. All we have to do is ask Bree what’s going on. I’m sure she’ll tell us.”

  Amber gave her a look that said she was definitely unconvinced. “Just like how she told us what happened between them on the island? Because you don’t argue with a guy like that unless there’s something more than just a casual friendship going on.”

  * * *

  NICK WATCHED AS Bree spun around and walked away from him, her anger evident from not only her words and attitude but her abrupt end to the conversation, not letting him explain.

  “Wait a minute.” He took a few steps forward to follow her. “Wait a minute!” he repeated, and his command had her turning to face him.

  “What?” Her question dripped with insolence.

  “That’s it? You find out we live within twenty minutes of each other and you get mad and walk away?”

  “What am I supposed to say? You lied to me.” She lowered her voice. “And now I understand
why.”

  What did she understand that he didn’t? They’d never talked about where they lived. He only knew she lived here because Pete had checked out her company online. “Go ahead, tell me why you think I lied, even if I didn’t.”

  She kept her voice quiet. “You figured if I didn’t know where you lived, then after we slept together I wouldn’t expect anything from you. DC is a big place. What were the odds that we’d run into each other?”

  “You couldn’t be further from the truth,” he told her. “You never asked me where I lived and I only knew you lived outside of DC because one of your friends mentioned your company’s name to Pete. Besides, back on the island, you acted like you never wanted to see me again. So what difference does it make where I live? We had never run into each other before the island, so I assumed we’d never run into each other in the future.”

  Her eyes widened. “Assumed?” Her loud exclamation had heads turning their way. “Assumed?” she repeated softly. “You’ve got to be kidding.” With that, she spun around again and walked away.

  Damn, if she didn’t look good enough to eat, wearing that emerald-green formfitting dress. Even angry, she was hot.

  He shook his head to clear it of thoughts he shouldn’t be having.

  How exactly had they ended up at the same place tonight? What were the odds? He glanced around, considering those people in the restaurant who might have arranged their accidental meeting.

  His mother was speaking with the chef—Pinar, he believed was her name. His mother had given him the ticket, supposedly a friendly gesture from Pinar. And as far as he knew, his mother had never met Bree. Besides, she had insinuated that she was inviting Pete to introduce him to Pinar. As if Nick had been more of an afterthought in the invitation.

  At least, that was what he’d thought until right this moment. Pete hadn’t seemed especially excited about coming tonight, but maybe he was just acting his part. Had Pete planned this reunion with Bree all along so Nick could ask her for financial help? His mother could have just been a pawn in Pete’s plan.

  The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that he’d been tricked into coming. He ought to leave right now, if not for the fact that he was starving. He also liked to keep up with local food trends. Not to mention that he didn’t want to leave things so badly with Bree.