Baby Times Two

by Marie Ferrarella

  Her choice of words struck him as odd, especially since they weren’t true. At least, not for him. “It wasn’t tidy.”

  She didn’t understand what he was getting at, but braced instinctively. “What?”

  “The divorce. It wasn’t tidy.” He suddenly wanted to reach out and touch her, to hold her again. But he remained where he was. One false step and he’d probably be a dead man. “It left a lot of jagged edges.”

  Was he blaming her? That would have been just like him. “Might I remind you who broke it to bring about those jagged edges?”

  Chase gave up trying to keep his temper in check. It was a lost cause around Gina. “Oh, now you’re saying it’s my fault?”

  Her chin lifted defensively. “No, not now.” She said the words sweetly before her tone changed sharply. “I always said it was your fault.” She wouldn’t have walked out on the marriage the way he had. But she hadn’t begged him to stay as she silently had in her mind. She’d had her pride. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  He glared at her. “You’re excused.”

  “Thank you.” Ice dripped from every syllable.

  Chase braced himself, waiting for the inevitable slam of the door, prepared to have it rattle his teeth this time.

  But she didn’t slam the door. The silence made him feel that much worse.

  * * *

  This time, Gina thought as she sat in the wing chair in the foyer, making notes about the entrance, maybe it was her fault. Not the argument, that almost seemed inevitable. It was her fault for letting him kiss her, for allowing him to stir her feelings to the point that she’d hoped maybe, just maybe—

  There were no maybes.

  She should have avoided his kiss. She could have easily enough. Well, maybe not so easily, given the logistics in the room, but she hadn’t exactly been tied down. Not physically at least.

  Emotionally was another matter. Her emotions continued to beg her to give him another chance.

  God, but she needed her head examined.

  Yes, it was her own fault that she felt like this. But she had never loved anyone with the intensity that she had Chase. And she hadn’t loved anyone since. Sure there had been a few dates here and there, but there had been no one she wanted to risk getting involved with. Her heart had felt numb. It wasn’t free.

  And she wasn’t going to risk getting involved this time around either. There was no need. She wasn’t that scared, lonely girl anymore, the one who needed to feel loved and cherished. She wasn’t looking to be made to feel warm and safe any longer.

  After Chase had left her life, she’d discovered that she could make it on her own. That had been accomplished by sheer grit and determination. She didn’t crumble or dissolve. Gina had a backbone and imagination and her own inner resources. She was her own woman now. Woman enough to make it alone.

  She was proud of her accomplishments, proud of herself.

  So why did it feel so damn lonely?

  Maybe it was the heat, she thought.

  “We’re taking care of that.”

  Gina started and looked up from her pad. Benjamin was walking toward her.

  “I saw you wipe your forehead,” he explained in response to the confused look on her face. “The company we called in is trashing the old air-conditioning system and putting in a brand-new one.” He smiled and the smile rested easily on his face, smoothing away the somber lines. “By the time they’re finished, the guests will be able to make icicles in their rooms if they want to.”

  “Don’t go too far,” she said with a laugh, grateful for the respite from her own thoughts.

  He leaned a hip against the side of the wing chair and looked down at her. “Can’t have the guests melting.”

  She looked at the long-sleeved denim shirt he was wearing, tucked neatly into beige chinos bleached white by the sun. He looked comfortable, far more so than she was and she was wearing a lot less. “Doesn’t seem to bother you any.”

  He lifted his wide shoulders and then let them drop. “My people were here long before air-conditioning units came into being,” he pointed out. “We’re accustomed to the heat.”

  “Navaho?”

  He grinned. Blazing white teeth seemed more so contrasted to his olive complexion. “Very good.”

  She felt compelled to explain in case he thought she was patronizing him. “American history buff. I majored in the subject until I found out that there was no money to be made in it.”

  Benjamin studied her for a moment. Generally, he took his time in judging people. “Money important to you?”

  She laughed. There was a time, after she had gone away to college and was on her own, that she had lived on peanut butter and apples to pay the rent. “Only when I haven’t got any. Being my own person is what’s important to me.”

  Some judgments came quicker than others. “I would say you’ve got that nailed down pretty well. Is there anything you need?”

  She glanced down at her pad. She’d filled two pages and she was only on the foyer. “Yes, about a dozen different suppliers who work fast. In lieu of that, I’ll accept a genie.”

  He laughed. It was a deep, resonant sound and it reminded her of Chase’s. Everything seemed to remind her of Chase. “Well, I don’t have any of those, but I have the next best thing. A telephone and the yellow pages.”

  “Actually, I have my own book of suppliers. And it’s—” She reached for her purse and suddenly realized that she had left it in the office. Chase had gotten her so mad that she’d completely forgotten it.

  “In your room?” Benjamin guessed when she didn’t finish her sentence.

  She frowned, annoyed at her forgetfulness. Annoyed at Chase for making her forget. “No, it’s in the office.”

  “I couldn’t help overhearing,” he began slowly. The look in his eyes was kind.

  She shrugged, smiling ruefully. “Albuquerque couldn’t help overhearing. I suppose we got a little loud.”

  He smiled. “I just have good hearing. Anything I can help with?”

  She shook her head, grateful for the offer. “No, it’s nothing I can’t handle myself.”

  She continued to repeat the phrase over and over again in her head as she walked back down the hall, her notes and the sketch she’d made of the foyer tucked under her arm. She paused at the door. Maybe she should have taken Benjamin up on his offer and sent him in for her purse, after all.

  No, that would have been the coward’s way out and she had never been a coward. This was no time to start. Taking a deep breath, she walked in.

  Chase was bent over his desk, intently keying things into the computer and muttering to himself. The boxes blocked his view of the doorway.

  He knew the moment she entered the room. Every nerve ending had tensed. He’d just about given up on her.

  She walked in slowly, hoping to make a quick getaway without Chase noticing her at all. He seemed so engrossed in his work that she doubted he even knew she was in the room—which was fine with her.

  She stopped and stared at the center of the desk, right in front of the computer.

  “What’s this?”

  Chase raised his eyes then, an inkling of a smile playing across his lips. “Iced coffee.”

  She knew what it was. She wanted to know what it was doing here, on her desk.

  “But—”

  Chase set the ledger aside and rose. Feeling awkward, he shoved his hands into his pockets and studied her.

  “It’s a peace offering.”

  Not knowing quite what to say, or to make of the situation, she slid her fingers along the glass. It created a tiny crooked trail in its wake. “Oh.”

  The offering had taken the starch out of her sails, just as he’d hoped it would. Now maybe he would have a chance of setting things on the right track. “I’d like to go back to that fresh start we were discussing earlier.”

  She let out a sigh. Gina didn’t want to start anything. It was like playing a tape of an old movie she’d
seen before. She already knew the way the story would end.

  “Chase, I don’t think we can start fresh. We keep rubbing each other the wrong way. We—” and she was being kind because she really meant “he” “—just proved that.”

  Chase rounded the obstacle course between them and placed a hand on her shoulder. Something, he didn’t know what, but something made him want to try again. And maybe make it work this time. It had been her kiss, he supposed, that had done it. If he could expand on the good and minimize the bad, it would work.

  “As I recall, you used to give some pretty mean back rubs.”

  Gina shrugged his hand away. She didn’t want his hand on her. She didn’t want any contact at all. It fogged up her mind.

  “See, you’re doing it again.”

  He had seen a glimmer of desire in her eyes. A bit of confidence took root. “What am I doing?”

  Retrieving her purse, she draped the strap over her shoulder and attempted to look as businesslike as possible, tried to place a barrier between them. “Bringing our history into this.”

  That was exactly what he intended to use as a weapon. Part of it at least. “There’s no way not to. We have a history.”

  Inside, she felt herself wavering and was quick to shore up the breaks in her bamboo wall. “A pretty rotten one.”

  He was silent for a moment. Did she really think that? About all of it?

  Her strap slid from her shoulder and he gently nudged it back into place with his fingers. He felt the slight tremor as he touched her skin. “Maybe we should explore why.”

  No, no, he wasn’t going to get to her. She wasn’t a yo-yo to be pulled up and down like this. “Isn’t it a little late?”

  She began backing away. He only had to move slightly to block her. “It’s only too late if you’re dead. What do you say?”

  She wanted to say yes, but she’d said yes before and it had gotten her nowhere except to a divorce court. This time he wasn’t going to set her up. She placed her hand firmly in the center of his chest and pushed him aside.

  “I say that Mr. James isn’t paying us to spend his time analyzing what went wrong with our marriage. If you want to know what went wrong, I’ll tell you what went wrong. You were never there for me.”

  He never reacted well when she raised her voice and he felt something shredding now. But he tried to hold on to his temper and meet her accusation with a semblance of humor. “Then who did you think you were making love to?”

  It was a joke to him, all a joke. Maybe he even saw this as a way of entertaining himself over the next few weeks. Fat chance.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Why was there all this hurt and anger in her eyes? Why couldn’t she just talk straight, the way he did? He’d spent most of their marriage in the doghouse without a clue as to what had started the ball rolling.

  “Then tell me.”

  “I—I—” Frustrated, Gina gave up. Some things he just should have known. “I can’t explain it.”

  He blew out a breath. Another page from the past. “What a surprise.”

  She hated that sarcastic tone. “Thanks for the iced coffee.”

  She left it standing on her desk, the perspiration ring widening around it.

  Chase sighed as he stared at the closed door. Why did he even bother? She was right. Their marriage, their past, was all dead. Dead and buried. Let it stay that way.

  From now on, as far as he was concerned, she was just another person employed at the hotel. Another person with legs to kill for and a body that was going to haunt him for a long time to come.

  Annoyed, he sat down at the desk and reached for a ledger.

  So what else was new?

  * * *

  “So, how is everything going?”

  James looked from one dinner companion to the other. Except for the waiter, they were alone in the large dining room. Neither Gina nor Chase had been particularly talkative since they’d arrived for dinner. He’d noticed that they arrived singly and appeared to regard each other the way opponents of a peace-treaty negotiation that wasn’t going well did. With suspicion and wariness.

  Chase accepted his drink from the waiter and took a long sip before answering. He’d managed to put Gina out of his mind long enough to begin unraveling the system of accounts. Now, seeing her here, wearing a wispy bright pink backless sundress with tiny straps that begged his hands to break them, his concentration was going to hell.

  “The existing accounting system is in a real mess.” He was surprised that James hadn’t had anyone go over the books before he purchased the hotel. But then, the man seemed to take great pride on going with “gut instincts.”

  James had already assumed as much as Chase was telling him. “Can you clean it up?”

  Chase nodded. His fingers twirled around the wineglass’s slender stem. “It’ll take me a while, but I haven’t seen anything so far that would lead me to believe there was anything drastically wrong.”

  James nodded, pleased. “Sounds good.” He knew he’d selected the right man for the job. “And let me know immediately if there’re any surprises.”

  Chase wasn’t certain if he caught James’ drift. “Surprises?”

  James was toying with his shrimp cocktail. The shrimp hardly seemed big enough to be worth the trouble of chewing. He made a mental note to speak to the chef.

  “Embezzlement. Hanky-panky with the figures, things like that. Now that the whole shooting match is mine, I’ve got to account for everything.” He grinned broadly at his inadvertent play on the word. “So to speak.”

  James popped the shrimp into his mouth and savored it. Maybe the chef was onto something at that. Best dang shrimp he’d ever tasted.

  He turned toward Gina. She’d come in dressed to make a man’s knees weak, but she’d also come carrying a black portfolio, which meant she’d been busy. That pleased him as well.

  “Now you, little lady. What d’you find out?”

  He made it sound as if she’d been on a reconnaissance mission. “That you have a lot of rooms.”

  James chuckled. “I already know that. Anything you can use in any of them?”

  The decor in all the rooms had been just as dreary as the foyer. She’d spent the afternoon making notes and sketching ideas. Decisions were going to have to be made—and quickly—if the suppliers and contractors were going to be at work in time to meet James’ deadline. Gina was beginning to feel like one of the mice in the movie version of “Cinderella,” striving to make a gown for the ball that evening.

  She thought it best to give James the sparse good news first. “We won’t be ripping out the floors.”

  He steepled his fingers together and nodded, waiting. “That’s comforting.”

  “The fixtures, however—” She had drawn up an incomplete list half an hour ago. It was extensive.

  He stopped her with a raise of his hand. “By fixtures, you mean the lights?”

  Gina ran down the list mentally. “The lights, the faucets, the doorknobs—”

  James frowned. “I like the doorknobs. They’ve got character.”

  She nodded, relenting. It was his hotel. But someone was going to be doing a lot of polishing before the month was over.

  “All right, the doorknobs stay. But the doors go. This place needs an entire face-lift from the ground up.” She was prepared to show him what she had in mind. “I’ve worked on a few sketches—”

  “Well, let’s see them.” He shifted his seat toward her, eager to see what she had done.

  Gina took several sketches out of her portfolio and handed them, one by one, to James. He studied them in silence as she held her breath. Chase was looking over James’ shoulder, but she tried not to let that distract her. It didn’t matter what he thought of her sketches and ideas. He’d always been critical anyway. There had been a debate over every piece of furniture that had eventually made a home in their studio apartment.

  There were two sketches for the foyer, three for the bed
rooms and one for the dining room. James studied them each slowly in turn. He wasn’t saying a word.

  Insecurity, something Gina had successfully shed several years ago, seemed to be taking root again. She licked her bottom lip as she hurriedly explained, “This isn’t final, of course, and they’re my preliminary impressions, but I thought this might give you some idea.”

  “Oh, it does.” James returned the sketches to her, his expression oddly somber. “It surely does.”

  Oh God, he didn’t like them. Well, she could always start from scratch again.

  Having played it out long enough, James grinned. “It gives me the idea that I’ve hired myself the right lady for the job. It all looks good to me.”

  Relief, clean and pure, flooded through her. She even smiled at Chase before she realized what she was doing.

  James picked up his drink, toasting her. “What d’you need from me to make it work?”

  She tucked the sketches into the black case. “Your checkbook—”

  Chase made a noise under his breath and James glanced in his direction.

  “Mr. James, as your accountant, I think I should advise you to get an estimate as to what all this is going to eventually cost you.”

  James leaned back in his chair, his head cocked to one side as he looked at Chase, amused. “You figure she’ll cheat me?”

  Chase didn’t have to look to know Gina was glaring at him. He sighed. That wasn’t what he was driving at, at all.

  “No, of course not. What I meant is that it might be prudent to have a figure in front of you in case you might want to place a ceiling on certain expenses.”

  The expression on James’ face grew serious for a moment. “You’re talking to a boy who had one pair of shoes a year if the crops came in, and cardboard lining in those shoes when they didn’t. I don’t throw money away, Randolph, but I don’t go to bed with it at night, either. I own it, it doesn’t own me. And I’m going to enjoy it.” He looked at Gina. “Keep me informed as you go along.”

  That settled, he rubbed his hands together. “Now let’s see what other surprises the chef’s got planned for us tonight.”