Baby Times Two

by Marie Ferrarella

  Gina looked up and down the winding road. She hadn’t seen another car go by in a few minutes. That was highly unusual for the area, but she wasn’t the type to thumb a ride, anyway. Optimist though she was, she might believe in her fellow man, but she wasn’t about to hitch a ride with him. Contrary to Chase’s opinion of her, she wasn’t an idiot. The papers were too full of the kinds of consequences blind trust rendered.

  Chase again. Why did she keep thinking of him tonight? She drew her brows together, as if to squeeze out all thoughts of him. What had come over her, anyway?

  Resigned, she fixed her attention toward the huge outdoor shopping mall. Humming “Hit the Road, Jack,” Gina began to walk.

  * * *

  Chase made a sharp right turn. His tires squealed in protest as he continued to attempt to make up for lost time. There were only three miles left, and if the few traffic lights were with him, he could make that in under five minutes.

  He whizzed by a dead beige car on the shoulder of the road and absently wondered what was wrong with it. Half the time, people just ran out of gas. Whoever had left it should have turned the hazard lights on. Otherwise, someone might plow right into it during the night. Pure carelessness, he judged.

  That would have been Gina’s speed. As a matter of fact, the car looked a lot like the one Gina had owned.

  The sudden, unbidden thought caught him by surprise. Why was this going on now, of all times? Why did she keep cropping up in his mind tonight? He’d thought that he was over her. Before this, she’d ceased to sneak up on his mind in unguarded moments. Whenever she had materialized, it was to be unfavorably compared to a woman he was escorting at the time.

  Funny how the evening would always somehow go downhill after that, even though the women, in his estimation, were superior to his ex-wife.

  He had honestly thought that he’d cleansed his mind of Gina.

  Apparently not.

  Maybe, like a case of malaria, he’d never be completely free of the effects she generated. But he could hope. God, he could hope.

  * * *

  Cursing the fate that had so whimsically seen fit to kill her car tonight of all nights, Gina finally arrived at the restaurant. Feeling definitely not at her best, she entered.

  The interior was intimately lit and a sweeping feeling of, if not calm, then soothing peace, slipped over her. Nicholas James had chosen to conduct his business here. If the place was any indication of the man himself, they were going to get along fine.

  A short, balding maître d’ looked up as she approached the foyer. “Table for one?”

  She had no idea why that sounded so incredibly lonely to her. There were lots of times she had opted for a “table for one,” and thought nothing of it. Tonight, for some reason, it sounded different.

  “No,” she corrected. “I’m with the Nicholas James party.”

  The maître d’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Ah, yes. Most of the gentlemen are already here.”

  “Most?” she echoed, perplexed. As far as she knew, besides herself, only Rene and James were attending the dinner tonight. If they were both here, where did the “most” come in?

  But the maître d’ had already picked up a slim, gold-covered menu and was leading the way to a table located in a private alcove.

  To Gina’s surprise, a third man was seated at the table. She had no idea who he was. Probably one of James’ associates.

  Her eyes met Rene’s as she approached the table and she flashed him an apologetic smile. He was accustomed to her being late, but never for business meetings. Gina saw that his thin lips were drawn together in a straight, reproving, though mildly tolerant line.

  “Well, well, the late Ms. Delmonico.” Rene nodded toward her.

  Nicholas James, all six foot four and two hundred forty-seven pounds of him, rose to greet her. He set down his Scotch on the rocks to envelop both her hands in his, and beam.

  “Ah, Miss Delmonico. I was just telling Mr. Dough-boy here—”

  “DuBois.” Rene corrected the man with the obvious patience of a saint who had been taxed just a wee bit too much.

  James laughed, not giving the amendment any consideration. “Whatever—that I surely did miss the sight of that warm smile of yours. I was just about giving up hope that you’d grace us with your presence.”

  Reclaiming her hands, Gina gratefully took her seat and addressed her reply to James, though it was actually meant for Rene. Her name might be the one on the loan papers, but she regarded Rene with the respect and awe of a graduated student for a dean. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t just being wantonly late.

  “My car died on MacArthur Boulevard.”

  “Died? Again?” Rene looked aghast and chastising, much the way the official at the workhouse did when Oliver Twist had approached with his empty bowl and asked for “more.” He shook his head at her words. “You just had that contraption serviced, didn’t you?”

  “I should have had it shot, and that might still be a viable possibility.” Her declaration earned her a laugh from the unknown man at the table. She looked toward him and wondered who he was and why James had chosen to invite him at the same time he was talking to his decorators.

  Nicholas James seemed to note the curiosity in her eyes but appeared to be in no hurry to enlighten her. He was obviously much more taken with her automotive dilemma. “Did you walk here?”

  “Yes, there wasn’t really an alternative. Although even if a car had come by, I wouldn’t have asked for a ride.”

  James nodded his head in parental approval. “Now, that’s right smart thinking. A lovely filly like you shouldn’t ever accept a ride from a stranger. Bad things can happen, you know.”

  Not for a minute was Gina fooled by Nicholas James’ country-boy facade. Beneath the “aw shucks” pose was a steel-trap mind that had taken a backwater boy from Hot Coffee, Texas and turned him into a multimillionaire and a power to be reckoned. But the pose seemed to please him and she made no comment on it.

  “Yes, I know,” she agreed pleasantly. Gina turned toward the third man at the table. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been introduced.” She placed her hand in his and noticed that he had had a manicure recently. She didn’t care for men with shiny fingernails. “I’m Gina Delmonico.”

  “Where are my manners?” James gestured from Gina to the man on his right. “Ms. Gina Delmonico, this is Reed Lawson, the head of my new accounting firm.” Thick reddish brows joined over the brow of his Roman nose as James scowled. “Where is that young man of yours, Reed? I hope he adds better than he tells time.”

  “This isn’t like him at all,” Reed assured the other man. He glanced at his watch again. Reed had looked at it so often in the past half hour, he was surprised that the face hadn’t been worn away. “Normally, he’s punctuality personified. You can actually set your watch by him.”

  Just like Chase. God, where had that come from? Gina admonished herself.

  “Perhaps he’s having car trouble,” Rene suggested, his eyes slanting toward Gina.

  “Perhaps,” Reed agreed, annoyance tap-dancing about his words. “No.” There was relief in Reed’s voice as he made the denial. “There he is now.”

  Reed nodded toward the front of the restaurant and Gina turned to look, as did the others. But only Gina turned pale.

  Rene noticed immediately. He leaned toward her, his hand over hers on the table. “Are you all right?” he whispered, concerned as well as bewildered.

  This wasn’t happening, she thought. This just wasn’t happening.

  “I’m fine for someone having a nightmare,” she murmured between clenched teeth.

  The men rose. It was fortunate, she thought, that women didn’t have to adhere to the old-world custom. Gina wasn’t altogether certain that her legs could support her at the moment.

  Like a person trapped in a dream, she stared, unable to believe what she saw.

  Chase. After all this time, Chase.

  If he didn’t know any better,
Chase thought as he went through the motions of making his apologies and being introduced to the thin man beside Gina, he would have said—no, sworn—that somebody up there hated him.

  What other explanation was there for his being thrown together with her like this? He could only stare at her mutely. A thousand thoughts, words, were crowding, jumbling in his mind, trying to push their way onto his tongue. They only succeeded in tongue-tying him.

  Oh God, she’d gotten more gorgeous in four years. How was that possible?

  It was as if something was attempting to prove to him that he hadn’t gotten over her. Maybe he hadn’t. He had been the one to end the marriage. He had done it because he’d seen no point in continuing something that didn’t seem to have a prayer of working.

  But that didn’t mean that he hadn’t missed her. That there weren’t times when he had lain awake at night, longing for the feel of her warm body curled into his. That he hadn’t longed for—

  Peace of mind. The phrase pulsed stoically in his brain. He had peace of mind, he told himself silently and doggedly as he nodded at Rene. That was worth fire and light in bed any day.

  Or night.

  A wide palm gestured expansively toward Gina as James’ smile became genuine. “And this is Ms.—”

  Chase’s eyes met Gina’s. She hadn’t known either, he thought. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be looking at him as if he were a length of sausage she was about to cut up for lasagna. “Yes, I know who she is.”

  James looked from Gina to Chase, mild surprise and more than a little interest evident in his eyes. “You two know each other?”

  “Yes.” Gina fairly hissed the word out. Chase merely nodded as he seated himself.

  The Texan grinned broadly as he hit the table on either side of his drink in a show of pleasure. Rene’s wineglass shook and splashed a drop on the tablecloth next to it. “Well, then, this makes things cozier, now, don’t it?”

  Rene saw Gina’s distress, though she was doing rather an admirable job of attempting to hide it. “I hardly think that four men and one woman can exactly be regarded as cozy, Mr. James—”

  The big man chuckled. It sounded like someone scraping rocks over the bottom of a barrel. “Then y’all ain’t ever been snowed in in a cabin in the hills and—” Abruptly, James waved away his own words. “Best not talk about things like that on an empty stomach. Or in mixed company.” He winked at Gina.

  It was an old-fashioned remark. Gina again had the distinct impression that Nicholas James was all showmanship and greatly enjoyed the role he was playing on center stage. Knowing what she did of his background and the long road that it had taken to get to this restaurant and to this point of time, though, she thought he had a little leeway coming.

  James inclined his head toward Gina. “No offense, ma’am.”

  “None taken,” she assured him.

  She opened her menu and began to peruse it, swearing to herself that she would make the best of the situation. There was a high fee riding on this. And the promise of more referrals at the end of the job. Nicholas James was a very influential man and well connected. The fact that he was making use of her services spoke well for her firm and foreshadowed a tremendous increase in business. If things went well. She was going to see to it that they did, Chase or no Chase sitting opposite her.

  Like a king accustomed to having his wishes anticipated, James raised a hand in the air. A moment later, the waiter hurried over to them.

  James looked benevolently at Gina and than at Chase. “We’ve already got our drinks. Might want to wet your whistles before we commence with the reason I had y’all hustle out here.”

  As the waiter took her order first, Gina was tempted to get the strongest drink she could think of. But a clear head was going to be necessary for the evening to come.

  “A strawberry daiquiri, please.” For the moment, she closed her menu and retired it to her lap.

  She waited to hear whether Chase was going to order what she thought he was. He did. A Scotch and soda. Nothing had changed. Not even the drink he chose.

  Gina could feel Chase looking at her. Probably cataloging new flaws and reestablishing old ones, she thought.

  Avoiding Chase’s eyes, she deliberately looked at James as if he were a prophet sent to announce the Second Coming.

  James ate it up. “Now, as I was telling your bosses here—” He swirled his finger around in the air as he indicated both Rene and Reed.

  Gina and Rene exchanged looks. Rene cleared his throat. The error had to be corrected before it went any further. He wanted neither the accolade not the responsibility of running Decorate! He was quite content with the position he occupied.

  “I’m afraid you have that confused, Mr. James. I am not Ms. Delmonico’s boss.” A very small smile spread beneath the trim, meticulously maintained wheat-colored mustache. “I am her mentor.”

  With a slight edge of impatience, James waves away what Rene was saying. “Whatever.”

  Gina had the feeling that “whatever” was James’ catchall word to net everything he didn’t feel like dealing with.

  James began again. “I was telling these gentlemen here that the luck of the draw has allowed this little old hotel to fall right square into my unsuspecting arms for a song.”

  Chase had done his homework on the acquisition. The hotel was far from little and the price tag on it precluded the idea of it having been a steal, although Chase knew that James had paid below the market value on the property because of the disrepair the building was in. The former owner, a corporation based in New York, had been happy to unload what they considered an unhealthy investment. And James had been just as happy to buy it. Luck and chance had nothing to do with it.

  It was on the tip of Chase’s tongue to comment on James’ self-effacing statement, when he glanced at Reed. The senior partner shook his head, indicating that he didn’t want Chase to contest, even in the friendliest of manners, James’ recounting of the story. The man was eccentric, that was a given. In other ways, he was easy to work for and generous. For that reason, he was allowed certain indulgences.

  James folded his hands in front of him on the table, a signal that he was getting down to it.

  “What I’d like from y’all is to get it in running shape for me. I want you—” he glanced toward Rene and Gina “—to make it look inviting, like a home away from home, only more expensive without being showy. And you—” small blue chips shifted toward Reed and Chase “—to tally up those books for me right quick. You know how impatient those boys at the IRS are. They want every i dotted and every t crossed. I don’t want to disappoint them. From what I hear tell, you can do the crossing and the dotting better than most.”

  Taking up his glass, James leaned back in his chair, regarding the people around him. He smiled indulgently as the waiter returned with the two drinks. He waited until Chase and Gina had them and the waiter retreated before continuing and detonating his bombshell.

  “And I want all this done in a month. Less if possible.”

  “A month?” Gina echoed incredulously.

  There were too many people to call, too many details to handle, for what he proposed to be accomplished in a month. She’d have to move in at the hotel and do nothing else but live and breathe its complete renovation for the deadline to be met.

  James laughed as he regarded Gina over his near-empty glass. “Pretty and hears well, too. Some man’s going to be right lucky to win you as his bride.”

  Chase coughed, choking as his drink backed up on him. Gina slanted a glare at him.

  “Wrong pipe,” he mumbled to James in a strangled voice. There had been a lot of words he had applied to himself as Gina’s mate. Lucky had never been one of them.

  James slapped Chase heartily on the back. The startled look on Chase’s face made Gina feel somewhat vindicated.

  “You gotta drink your liquor slow, boy,” James counseled in a fatherly voice. “The glow lasts longer that way.” James drew himself up once more, his
wide fingers curving around his own chunky glass. “Anyway, like I said, I want this job done right fast.”

  His eyes shifted from one set of faces to the other, as if he were weighing something and then decided against it. James shifted shoulders wide enough to accommodate a helicopter landing pad and then let them drop.

  “It’s due to legal reasons I don’t wanna bore you with.”

  Chase had a strong suspicion that there were no legal reasons, boring or otherwise. It was just a matter of the man wanting something when he wanted it and coating it a little to make that reason more palatable for the rest of them.

  There was no need to justify it to him. Chase could readily understand being in a hurry. He’d been that way about forging his career, living for the day it would actually flourish. Not realizing, he thought, glancing toward Gina unconsciously, that when it finally did, he’d be alone.

  And loving it, he added as an insistent, albeit silent postscript. Loving it.

  He forced himself to tune back into what James was saying to them. He thought it might be wise, seeing as how the man was looking directly at him as he spoke.

  “Of course I’m more than willing to pay handsomely for the effort it’s gonna cost you people. I need one of you two boys to go over the accounts ASAP. And naturally—” he shifted his gaze toward his left and Rene and Gina “—I want one of you to go over all those tacky hotel rooms to see what’s needed.”

  The way he was looking at Gina made it obvious to everyone seated at the table which of the pair he was choosing.

  “I’ll even sweeten the pot,” James offered, his grin widening.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Gina thought she saw Chase tensing slightly. Now what was that all about? She maintained a polite, friendly expression as she looked at the entrepreneur.

  “Oh?”

  The man’s eyes sparkled with laughter as he raised his hands, signifying his hands-off intentions. He could tell by the way the woman had drawn in her breath that she was expecting something entirely different. It rather tickled his fancy to be thought of in that sort of Lothario light, seeing as how he was, in his Alison’s words, “as harmless as a June bug in January.”