Cynthia walked to the dresser and began opening drawers. “Would you please check the closet,” she said as she searched through stacks of tiny clothing.
“What am I looking for?”
“Anything you think Colton might want. Pictures, something old that could be a hand-me-down.”
He thought of his coolly elegant sister-in-law. “Lisa wasn’t the type.”
“Maybe not for herself, but there might be a baby quilt or blanket. Something from her family.”
He opened the closet door. There were several tiny garments on miniature hangers, along with an impossibly small coat. But nothing else. The long walk-in space was empty.
“I don’t think Lisa had family,” he said shutting the door. “At the wedding, her side of the church had friends from college, but no relatives. Of course I was merely an invited guest, so I wouldn’t have been introduced to people like that.”
Cynthia glanced at him sharply. “You weren’t David’s best man?”
Her innocence surprised him. “I was there because David expected a big gift. The same thing happened when Colton was born, only that time I received a notice in the mail, not an invitation to the christening.”
“But that’s crazy.”
He looked at her. “Cynthia, the man tried to have me killed.”
She straightened, then sighed. “You’re right. I have trouble remembering that. Mostly, I guess, because I don’t want to. If I could change your past, I would. I would make everything better.”
He knew she meant what she said. Because she was a dreamer who saw beauty where others only saw broken, tattered disappointments.
He found himself wanting to ease her pain, which was crazy but true. “I could have a private investigator look for Lisa’s family. Maybe there are distant relatives Colton would want to meet as he got older.”
His words had the desired effect. She beamed at him as if he’d caused the morning’s sunrise. “I think that’s great,” she said.
Who was this woman who had twisted him around until he didn’t know where he was or where he was going? Why did he give a damn about her feelings or opinions? And why did the sight of her happy smile make him want to take on the world?
“I’ll have my secretary find research investigators in the morning,” he said.
Cynthia returned her attention to the dresser drawers. “Oh, speaking of your secretary. I spoke to her this morning. She’s saved some time on your schedule for the next couple of weeks so you can start interviewing potential candidates.” She closed the drawer she’d gone through and moved on to the next. “She said that you would like me to be a part of the interview process.”
Jonathan didn’t know what to say. A different nanny living in his house? When he’d first found out he was his nephew’s legal guardian, he hadn’t wanted to deal with the disruption of his life. But now that Cynthia and Colton had moved in with him, he found that the disruption wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Besides, he couldn’t imagine anyone else but her caring for Colton.
She turned her head and glanced at him. “I don’t mind helping,” she said softly. “I do this a lot for my clients. I suggest we use my office for the interviews so that the candidates aren’t in awe of their surroundings.”
“Thanks,” he said, when what he really wanted to ask was if she would find it easy to walk away from him. He and Cynthia shared something far beyond a working relationship. But getting involved wasn’t his style. He should be pleased that she was willing to accept the time they had together for what it was and be so comfortable with moving along when they were done.
She drew a photo album from a bottom drawer and flipped through the pages. “This seems to be a record of Lisa’s pregnancy. We should put this in the Keep pile.”
As it was the first object they’d decided to hang on to there wasn’t a pile yet, but he took the album out into the hall to start one. From downstairs came the sound of thumping feet.
Cynthia came out of the bedroom. “What is that?” she asked.
“An invasion,” he said cheerfully. “I called your mother and invited her and the kids over. Not so much to help, but to provide a distraction as we go through the rooms. I figured ten-year-old twin boys would chase away any ghosts.”
He spoke lightly, but meant every word. He didn’t expect to ever make peace with his past. Just being in David’s house made him uncomfortable. He knew whatever ghosts might still be in residence would wait and follow him home so they could haunt him in the lonely hours of darkness, moving into his dreams and making him remember.
“We’re here,” Betsy called.
He and Cynthia made their way down to greet them. The twins grinned at them.
“Mom says we can have L’Italiano deliver dinner later, and she brought brownies for dessert,” Brett said in a rush. He turned his attention to Jonathan. “The house is way cool. Do you have video games here?”
Betsy put one hand on each boy’s shoulder. “Calm down. Let’s start with hello and a thank you to Mr. Steele for inviting us.”
“Hello,” the boys chorused together.
Betsy smiled at them. “Jenny had some after-school activities, so it’s just the three of us.” She looked at Jonathan. “Are you sure you want these two terrors in a house this beautiful. Anything breakable is at risk.”
“They’ll be fine,” he said. He looked at the boys. “You know, I’ll bet my brother has a real high-tech video game system. Let’s go find it and you two can play.”
Brad shifted his weight from foot-to-foot. “Can’t you play with us, Mr. Steele. It’ll be more fun that way.”
There was something familiar in their expression. It took him a couple of minutes to figure out that they were looking at him the same way Jenny looked at Cynthia. With complete worship.
The attention made him uncomfortable. Even so he forced himself to smile. “Sure. I can spare the time for a couple of games.”
“Do you want me to go through the rooms and pick out my suggestions for the Keep pile?” Cynthia asked. “I don’t mind.”
He tried not to notice that she had the same worshipful light in her eyes. “I appreciate that,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to leave you with all the work.”
“I’ll help,” Betsy said. “We can indulge in girl talk. I’ve missed having Cynthia home these past weeks, so it will be fun.”
Jonathan knew only Betsy realized he was tarnished goods. But even she wouldn’t say anything. He hated that her silence made him feel as if he should rise to everyone’s expectations and be the man they wanted him to be. Didn’t she know that was impossible? He did. He’d known it for years.
Chapter 14
Cynthia sat in the middle of the living room, surrounded by boxes of pictures. “They could have put these in albums,” she said, sorting the photos into piles.
Her mother had an open album in her lap. “At least this way, we can choose what goes where. What do you think, maybe three of these?” She held up photos from a cruise vacation.
“That sounds right.”
At Betsy’s suggestion they had collected all the loose photos they’d found in the house and were putting them together for Colton. She and her mother sat in the white-on-white living room at David’s house. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided an unobstructed view of the city below. Lights twinkled in the night.
From a distance of halfway across the house came the faint sounds of beeps, crashes and laughter. She didn’t know how Jonathan was surviving, but she would bet that her brothers were in ten-year-old heaven.
Speaking of brothers…Cynthia glanced at the handful of pictures she held. They were all of David as he grew up, or David with his parents, or David at school. So far she hadn’t come across a single snapshot that included Jonathan. Not even the posed family portraits. It was as if he’d never existed. Brad and Brett were twins, which made them closer than most brothers. Even so she doubted there was more than one or two pictures of the boys alone. In family pi
ctures, they were always together.
“Did you know the Steele boys went to prep school?” Betsy asked, flashing a picture of David in a school uniform.
Cynthia smiled. “I didn’t know for sure, but I’m not surprised. It’s the rich, you know,” she said in a mock aristocratic accent. “They require a different sort of education.”
“Maybe. I’m not one to speak ill of the dead, but if you ask me, David Steele looks like he didn’t get enough discipline when he was growing up.”
Cynthia thought about all Jonathan had told her. She considered his confidences private and hadn’t shared any of them with her mother. “I suspect you’re right.”
They looked up as they heard footsteps on the marble floor. Jonathan walked in. He’d changed when he’d come home to get her that afternoon and wore a sweater over jeans. While she liked him wearing anything…or nothing…she had to admit that he had the kind of body made for faded denim. The fabric hugged his narrow hips and butt and made her remember how he’d looked late last night when they’d both been naked and making love.
“Okay, I know they each had a big serving of lasagna, not to mention garlic bread, less than two hours ago,” he began when he entered the room. “But they’re swearing that if they don’t eat again, they’re going to die.”
Jonathan came to stop behind the white sofa across from them. He settled one hip on the back and gave Betsy an engaging grin. “I told them I would come and plead their case.”
Her mother laughed. “They know I brought brownies for dessert and they’re afraid I’m going to forget. Yes, they may each have one, but make them eat in the kitchen. They make a mess.”
“Consider it done,” he said and turned to leave. Then he faced them again. “I don’t mean to sound presumptuous,” he began slowly and shoved his hands into his pockets. “But there are some nice crystal and silver pieces in the hutch in the dining room and in the butler’s pantry. If either of you see anything you’d like, feel free to take it. I’m not keeping any of that.”
“Thank you, Jonathan,” Betsy said. “I don’t have much use for anything too formal, but I’ll give it all a once-over before we leave. You’re more than kind.”
“I’d like you to take whatever you like. Or all of it.” He paused, as if he was going to say more, then he left.
Cynthia returned her attention to the pictures she held. “We should go look, Mom. I’m guessing all the stuff is spectacular, even if you don’t want any of it.”
Her mother didn’t answer. Cynthia glanced up and saw the older woman studying her. “What?” she asked.
Betsy frowned. “I’m not sure. I’ve just had this feeling all evening. As if there was something I didn’t know. And I think I’ve figured it out.”
Cynthia wasn’t sure what her mother was talking about. “You mean because Jonathan wants us to take anything we like from the house? I know it sounds strange, but he wasn’t really close to his brother.” She pressed her lips together, wanting to be careful not to give away any secrets. “Jonathan has had several bad family experiences. He doesn’t think the way we do about heirlooms or family treasures. He’s really going to sell everything and put the money in trust for Colton.”
Her mother shook her head. “That’s not what I mean,” she said and placed the open album on the coffee table in front of her. “You’re involved with him. A few days ago you hinted that you’d fallen for him but this is more than a crush.”
It wasn’t a question. Cynthia reminded herself that she was well over twenty-one and that she hadn’t done anything wrong. Even so she felt herself blushing. “I don’t know that I’d call it involved. We’re…” Her voice trailed off, then she decided she might as well tell the truth.
“I love him,” she said. “I don’t think he loves me back, but we’re friends and he cares about me.”
Her mother blinked. “I’ll admit I’d expected a lot of things, but not that. Love. Are you sure?”
She wished she weren’t. Loving Jonathan wasn’t easy. He was a sophisticated man who traveled in circles she’d never been a part of.
“As sure as I can be. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. I know he’s not perfect, but who is? I admire many things about him.” She frowned. “It’s not about money or power, Mom. I swear. If anything, that stuff makes me nervous.”
Her mother dismissed the comment with a wave. “I know that. You weren’t raised to find those things important. Of course no one wants to be homeless, but once the basic needs are met, finances don’t enter into it.”
Her mother leaned back into the sofa and sighed. “But Jonathan Steele. I don’t know. He’s so…not like us. He’s an emotionally closed man. If you can be the one to open him up, if he comes to truly trust you, then I believe he’ll be a good and faithful partner. But I don’t know that anyone has the power to reach him.” She fixed her gaze on her daughter. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I don’t want that, either,” Cynthia agreed, knowing it was a very real possibility. “Unfortunately it’s a little late to be worrying about that. I’m sort of up to my neck already.” She set down the pictures she’d been holding and sighed. “It’s not just Jonathan, either. It’s Colton. I know better than to get emotionally involved with one of the babies, but I have to admit he’s stolen my heart.”
She looked at her mother. “Just to make my life interesting, we’re supposed to start interviewing permanent nannies soon. I got a call from his secretary this morning arranging our schedules so we could coordinate everything. I wanted to scream at her that losing Colton would hurt too much, but I can’t. I have to be a professional.”
The pain from that conversation returned. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted in a quiet voice. “I’m not sure how to survive losing them both.”
Her mother slid toward her and gathered her close. “I know. I wish I could say or do something to make it better, but I can’t. You’re going to have to see this to the end.” She touched Cynthia’s face. “However this turns out, you know I’m here for you, don’t you?”
Cynthia nodded. She knew she was too old to need her mother’s approval or embrace to make her feel better, but she couldn’t deny the comfort the hug brought her.
Betsy slid back to her side of the sofa. “It might all work out,” she said. “You can’t be sure yet. And if it doesn’t, you’ll get through what you have to. I’ve learned that lesson myself.”
Cynthia thought about all her mother had been through—being thrown out by her parents when she was only eighteen and the mother of a three-year-old, the loss of her husband—and knew that having her relationship with Jonathan fail wasn’t even close.
“You’re right, of course,” she said, feeling slightly ashamed. “I couldn’t miss Jonathan as much as you have missed Frank.”
“Why not?” her mother asked. Betsy smiled sadly. “If you love him as much as I loved Frank, then you’ll miss him as much. I wish you wouldn’t, but those kinds of feelings don’t die easily.”
Returning footsteps interrupted them. Cynthia forced herself to smile pleasantly at Jonathan so he wouldn’t suspect that they’d been talking about anything important. Fortunately he didn’t seem to notice the charged atmosphere in the room.
He stood behind the sofa across from them and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “I was wondering if there was a reason the boys didn’t have a video-game player at home. I mean do you think it’s a bad thing, that it will keep them from their homework or playing outside?”
He swallowed and avoided both their gazes. “It’s just that they’re really having a good time and I’m getting rid of it anyway and I thought maybe if you didn’t mind, they could take it home with them. It has a really nice carrying case and lots of games. Oh, and a Mute button.”
Betsy laughed. She tucked her short blond curls behind her ears. “I don’t have any moral opposition to video games,” she said. “Brad and Brett aren’t the type of
kids to sit in front of the television all day. They have too much energy. You’re very kind and we appreciate that.”
He grinned. “Great. Can I tell them? Or do you want to?”
“Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” He turned on his heel and left the room.
Betsy gazed after him and sighed. “They already look up to him,” she said. “This is going to give him God-like stature in their eyes. I can’t decide if that’s good or bad.”
Cynthia was pleased that Jonathan seemed to be getting along so well with her brothers. “He’s a terrific role model for them. He’s honest and smart and he’ll never lead them astray. I know he’s not Frank, Mom, but no one would be.”
Betsy didn’t look convinced. “You’re seeing him through love’s eyes. That gives everyone a glow. I’m not so convinced. Of course if he breaks your heart, I’ll have to hate him on general principle.”
Cynthia appreciated that her mother was worried about her, but she didn’t think it was going to help. Either she and Jonathan could work things out or they couldn’t. “I believe in him,” she said firmly, but as she spoke the words she wasn’t sure if she was convincing her mother, or herself.
Jonathan glanced in his rearview mirror. “You all right back there?”
There wasn’t a reply. Not a big surprise, he told himself. After all, Colton’s verbal abilities barely stretched to gurgling. Still the baby waved his arms in excitement, as if the thought of being in Jonathan’s car was a treat beyond measure.
“Just wait a few years until you’re big enough to sit in the front seat,” he said. “That’ll be even better.”
Colton grinned, then turned away as a large truck caught his attention. He pointed and made his favorite raspberry sound. Jonathan turned right at the corner and pulled into the parking lot.
Jonathan found himself driving more slowly than usual as he maneuvered through the maze of cars, just as he’d been extra careful on the twenty-minute drive from his house to Cynthia’s office. He’d always considered himself an excellent driver, but having a baby in the back seat had made him more cautious than usual.
Cinderella for a Night Page 18
