by Sara Daniel
Candles were set at three-foot intervals down the table. He walked to each one and blew them out in succession. A single place setting with more silverware than he generally used in an entire week sat at the end of the table furthest from the kitchen.
“Have a seat, Dr. Paden, and I’ll bring out the first course.”
He turned to find Olivia behind him. Gone were the old sweater and rumpled hairstyle from earlier. She was wearing an ivory blouse buttoned all the way up her neck, a flowing skirt with a print of deep blues, greens and purples and conservative black heels. Her hair was pulled back in a bun that was saved from being austere by the curly tendrils escaping around her forehead.
“Call me Caleb, Olivia.”
“As you like.” She inclined her head regally, but something about the way her eyes burned made him believe she had a completely different name she’d prefer to call him if given the opportunity. She uncorked a bottle of wine and poured him a glass.
“You know, I’m not really a guest,” he pointed out. “You don’t need to go to any special trouble for me.”
“The Scot’s Mansion provides gourmet dinners every evening. And yes, you are a guest,” she replied, sweeping out of the room.
By the time he seated himself and placed his napkin on his lap, she’d returned with a silver tray balanced on her palm over her head. She lowered the tray and placed a blue-rimmed china bowl in front of him. “Butternut squash bisque,” she announced.
The pale yellow-orange cream was garnished with little brown dots of some kind of spice and a green leaf in the middle. He’d have preferred a simple vegetable or chicken noodle soup from a can. “Is Liam sleeping again? Maybe I should eat upstairs where I can hear him if he cries.”
“I’m taking care of him. Would you prefer raspberry vinaigrette or honey Dijon for your salad?”
“No dressing.”
She left him alone again. He picked up his soupspoon and took a tentative sip. It wasn’t as bad as he anticipated. In fact, it was surprisingly good for a fancy dinner. But that wasn’t the point.
She swept back in, exchanging soup for salad, and then salad for main course, always with the question, “How is everything so far?”
He hated being grilled on how some new concoction tasted, and he hated salads with seven different types of lettuce. He hated that The Forever Marriage was already feeling the effects of this morning’s revelation. And he hated that he didn’t know enough about babies to take over caring for Liam. “It’s too quiet.”
She laughed. “I thought you’d enjoy the blessing of not having a baby screaming through your meal. I’ll put some music on.”
He used his fork to slide the pineapple slices off his ham. The potatoes on his plate were shaped into fancy puffs and sat next to a serving of baby carrots. Food was not an art. It was a necessary inconvenience in life. He preferred to get it over with as quickly as possible.
Low classical music came through invisible speakers, and Olivia returned to his side. “Let me know if you want seconds. There’s plenty of everything.”
“I’d like a glass of milk.”
The request seemed to throw her. “Is something wrong with the wine?”
He spent too many evenings with the wine and hors d’oeuvre crowd, enduring both the food and the conversation. He wasn’t with them tonight. He didn’t have to pretend. “Nothing’s wrong. I prefer not to drink when I’m caring for a child.”
Olivia didn’t comment. She simply delivered his milk and left him again. He scraped the glaze off the ham and ate all the food on his plate, except the despised pineapple. Another slice of ham and a drink refill would hit the spot. Olivia didn’t immediately appear to fill his need.
Waiting for her to read his mind was foolish. He was perfectly capable of going into the kitchen and serving himself. He could even eat seconds standing over the sink. When he was done, he’d gather Liam and settle into his room for the evening. He’d check the weather and Ethan’s social media posts.
He crossed the room with his plate. As he neared the swinging kitchen door, he heard low voices and female laughter. He pushed his way in.
Conversation stopped mid-sentence. The three people at the table turned to look at him. Olivia, Austin, and another woman were eating mashed potatoes and ham without pineapple, on colorful plastic plates. The women had iceberg lettuce covered in ranch dressing on the same plates as the rest of their food. Liam sat in a baby swing just beyond the table, pumping his arms and legs and gurgling happily.
Comfort food. Surrounded by family.
And they’d left him out.
Olivia rose to her feet while Penelope and Austin stared openly. Guests never stepped foot into the kitchen. Like her upstairs apartment, this section of the house was off-limits. She’d only left Caleb alone for a couple minutes, not long enough to cross the line to neglectful. Normally, she ate with her family before she served the dinner meal to her guests. But the unexpectedness of needing to cook for a guest, coupled with him waking Liam, had thrown off her planning. “Can I get you anything?”
“Yes. A seat at your table.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t check on you sooner. We have a ‘no guests’ policy in the kitchen.”
“I’m not a guest. I didn’t come here to relax and eat your cooking.”
She reached out to take his plate from him. Regardless, he was now paying her for those things. And she was desperately trying to hang on to the last few moments of normalcy before he ripped Liam away from her. “Would you like seconds, or are you ready for the next course?”
He refused to relinquish custody of the dishes. “What is the next course?”
“Crème brûlée.”
“Austin.” Caleb surprised her by calling her son by name. “What are you having for dessert?”
“Leftover candy from a party at school.”
Olivia sighed, still unable to wrestle his plate from him. “If you prefer candy, Dr. Paden, I’m sure I can scare up a couple chocolate hearts.”
“I don’t want chocolate. I don’t want crème brûlée. I detest cooked pineapple and glaze on my ham. I refuse to endure another impeccable five-star meal alone.”
Olivia stared at him. She’d dealt with disgruntled customers before, but a scathing tirade because she’d thrown everything together perfectly was a first. “Feel free to get in your car and drive away. I’m certainly not holding you here against your will. You know where the door is.”
“You’re right. I apologize,” he said stiffly without an ounce of sincerity. “I’m not going anywhere tonight. But I’m willing to pay a premium for the things that matter to me.”
“Which would be?” She gulped a deep breath that strained her chest. Guest or not, she’d punch him if he offered to pay her for taking care of Liam again.
“Milk, no alcohol, no gussied-up food, no glaze, no scones, lots of coffee.”
Her job was to cater to her guests, even the rude, demeaning ones. Her parents had entrusted The Scot’s Mansion to her, as her grandmother had to them. She’d nearly run the inn into the ground trying to save her marriage. She was determined not to let her personal issues interfere with her business decisions again. “I’ll do the best I can to accommodate. I can’t exactly run to the store for your favorite ingredients right now.”
“Another thing, don’t dress up to serve me. I’ll eat in the kitchen with you from now on.”
“You certainly will not.” This was her territory, her workspace, and her chance to enjoy her time with her family without the polite pretenses she had to keep in place for guests.
“I’m eating wherever Liam is. You decide if you want me in the kitchen or if your family will join me in the dining room.” Caleb finally relinquished his plate and glass into her hands. More accurately, he shoved them at her. Then he turned to Penelope and extended his hand. “I’m Dr. Caleb Paden, founder of The Forever Marriage.”
“That explains a lot.” She gave Olivia a knowing look and then clasped his han
d. “I’m Penelope, Olivia’s sister.” She pulled her hand free and scraped her chair back. “I have to get back to work.”
The chair wobbled and Caleb steadied it. “Where do you work?”
“In the basement. Come down and see some time.” She vanished out the swinging door.
Olivia choked. Penelope never extended an invitation to visit her haven.
She refilled Caleb’s plate and started to take it to the dining room. She stopped at the swinging door. Caleb was sitting in the chair her sister had vacated.
“I’m going to start cleaning the kitchen.” Olivia clenched the plate in both hands in an effort to keep from dumping it over his head. “You’ll be able to eat your meal in peace in the dining room.”
“I’d rather eat in here. That way I can keep an eye on Liam. I’ve learned from experience that moving him when he’s already content is a recipe for disaster.”
She looked from the baby to Caleb’s sheepish smile. She either had to accept his presence or give up Liam’s. Neither was acceptable. It galled her to admit that Dr. Caleb Paden, founder of The Forever Marriage, was the lesser of two evils.
Chapter 3
Olivia had mixed feelings about watching Caleb carry Liam out of the kitchen. On one hand, she’d encouraged Jennifer to do the same, so she could clean up after a meal and tend to the guests without juggling a demanding infant. If Caleb was going to be a full-time father, it boded well for Liam’s future to have a parent who was proactive about taking over.
On the other hand, somewhere in the past three months she’d started to think of Liam as hers. Intellectually, she knew she had no right. But her selfish heart claimed him as her son and strenuously opposed his being raised by someone who didn’t love him and would ultimately raise him to have fundamental values vastly different from her own.
After the kitchen and dining room were spotless, she checked on Liam under the pretense of making sure he had everything he needed. He was lying in a portable crib in Caleb’s room, staring at the rattle Caleb was shaking in front of his face. Diapers and changes of clothes were stacked on top of the desk. Toys that played music and lit up, rattles, and stuffed animals sat in a basket next to the crib. Everything was under control. There was no reason for her to stay.
She backed out of the room before she gave in to her urge to scoop up the baby and take over. Instead, she went upstairs and immersed herself in Austin’s bedtime routine, savoring the rare uninterrupted time with him, even as she fretted over Liam.
Once Austin was tucked in bed and had fallen asleep, she returned downstairs. She generally hosted a community hour in the sitting room with liqueur, hot tea, and scones for the guests. Considering Caleb’s disdain for those offerings, coupled with his new baby duties, she doubted he would be interested in partaking. Still, he’d put his credit card on file as a paying guest, so she was obligated to make it available.
From the direction of the guest rooms, she could hear Liam sobbing. With effort, she forced herself to turn toward the kitchen instead. She brewed a pot of decaf coffee and measured the formula to fix another bottle. The housekeeping line rang, and she picked it up while shaking the bottle.
“I’ve tried everything. He won’t stop crying.” Caleb sounded desperate.
“Did you check his diaper?” At this point, Liam was probably overtired and overstimulated and couldn’t settle down to sleep in his new bedroom. But she’d already made the connection that Caleb dug in his heels if he thought her suggestions were intended to separate him from his son, so she didn’t propose he let Liam return to his own bed in her upstairs apartment.
“Diaper?”
Olivia wished she could see the facial expression that went with his tone. “It comes with the territory when you have a baby.”
“Blasted practicalities,” he muttered. “I’m going to need your help.”
The phone clicked in her ear, and Olivia found herself smiling. Darn it, she didn’t want to like him or be amused by him. She forced her expression into a neutral line and walked down the hall to Caleb’s room.
He had the door open, waiting for her. “You were right about the diaper.” His expression was ashen. “I think he might be seriously ill.”
“Ill?” Olivia walked into the room and set down the tray holding Caleb’s coffee and the baby bottle. “What happened?”
“Look at the diaper contents. It’s not normal. Something is very wrong.”
Olivia leaned over the crib and took a look. He thought Liam was seriously ill based on a single poopy diaper? “It’s a normal baby stool. A messy one, to be sure, and one that he’s been sitting in for a bit. No wonder he’s throwing a fit for you. He’s uncomfortable and needs a change.”
“Are you sure that’s all?” Caleb still seemed dubious, but his cell phone rang, distracting him. He stepped out of the room to take the call before she could insist he do the diaper change.
Rather than make Liam wait any longer, she quickly went through the routine and cleaned him up. Then she lifted him out of the crib and cooed and cuddled with him for a few precious moments. He soon grew tired of playing and tried sucking on her finger, clearly looking for food. Olivia dimmed the bedroom lights and settled into a stuffed chair in the corner to feed him his bottle.
He was over halfway through the bottle before Caleb came back into the room. He tucked his phone back into its case on his belt buckle and crossed to where she was sitting. Silently, he studied the baby in her arms. He didn’t ask to take over the feeding and she didn’t offer.
After a few long moments where she was beginning to feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, he sat on the bed facing her. “This must be pretty awkward for you to have some strange guy come in and take away this child you’ve been caring for.”
Her head jerked up. She hadn’t expected him to consider her feelings. Actually, she preferred that he didn’t. It was easier to hate him if she believed he was an insensitive blowhard. “I’ve always believed love, not biology, makes a family. Which makes me Liam’s mother in every way that matters.”
“You can be assured he’ll be well cared for from now on. I’m committed to raising him in a stable home.”
That was supposed to comfort her? “A stable home is hardly the same as having someone who loves him.”
“You don’t have to worry about anything. As I mentioned to your sister earlier, I’m the founder of The Forever Marriage. I’ll tell my office to ship you a set of my books. It’s is a proven model based on friendship, respect, and — ”
Proven to send a healthy marriage straight to divorce court. She couldn’t bear to hear the rest of his words. “Yes, I’ve heard of it. People are supposed to play house with their best friend and ignore that they really want sex with the hottest babe in the bar.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed and he leaned toward her. “Since we’re isolated from the bar tonight, we’re stuck playing house. I’ll teach you some tips, so the next time you tie the knot, you’ll do it right.”
Liam squirmed and cried out.
Olivia forced herself to relax her rigid arms. The nerve of this man. “What gives you the right to make offensive judgments about people you don’t know? Your way may not be the only right way. In fact, your way may not be right at all.”
He looked shocked, either because she was the first person to tell him to his face his theories weren’t perfect or because she dared to exhibit emotion. For Liam’s sake, she had to talk some sense into him. He needed to abandon his theories before he passed them on to his son.
His phone rang again and he shifted his attention to the device. “Excuse me, but I need to take this call.”
Olivia continued to cuddle Liam, long after he’d finished his bottle and closed his eyes. Caleb didn’t return to the room. Finally, she left the room and carried the baby to his crib upstairs where he belonged. She didn’t get the opportunity to talk sense into Caleb and convince him his marriage preachings were dead wrong. But as long as Liam was in her custody, C
aleb wouldn’t have a chance to corrupt him.
Caleb needed the weather to cooperate so he could get Liam home and focus on the crisis engulfing The Forever Marriage. The media and Ethan were referring to the public flap from The Brighid Show as a scandal. Everyone wanted to focus on the details of his relationship with Jennifer instead of his company message. Marriages were dying every day because everyone fixated on sex and missed the point of Forever. Olivia had blown it off with glib misunderstanding. It was no surprise she was a divorce statistic.
After an early morning conference call to refocus his employees and marriage counselors on the key points of Forever, he was starving. He walked into the dining room to find a single plate and silverware at the end of the table where he’d eaten the torturous meal last night. “I requested an informal, simple meal. Cut out the eccentric chef ridiculousness.”
Olivia looked over her shoulder at him as she set a bowl of scrambled eggs in front of his place setting. Her hair teetered on top of her head, looking absurd yet impossibly sexy with the oversized clip topping it off. “This eccentric chef ridiculousness, as you so elegantly put it, is how I earn my living. I can accommodate your request for informal by sitting with you while you eat, but you’ll have to come out of your room much earlier if you want to eat with my family. Austin would have starved to death — or at least complained enough that you’d think he would — if I made him wait this long.”
He swept his gaze down the rest of her body. She’d discarded the evening’s prim blouse and skirt for another of those baggy sweaters and tight jeans that he’d taken an instant preference for. “Doesn’t he have school?”
“The storm hasn’t let up, so it’s a snow day. He’s playing in his room.” She leaned across the table to set a plate of bacon next to the eggs.
“Where’s Penelope?” He tried not to admire the way she filled out those jeans. What part of “completely off-limits single mother” did his body not understand?
