by Cathy Quinn
“Lunch?” she repeated. Her brain tended to slow down around him. Very annoying. It meant she had to buy time by repeating what he’d just said, and sounding like a parrot. Probably a polka-dot parrot.
Nick tilted his head to the side. “I know you said you were a starving artist, but you do eat, right? You don’t have an ethical objection to food?”
“Eh... no. I mean yes. I do eat. Occasionally.”
His smile flashed again. “Great. It’s on me. We’ve got that contract to sign, so it’s business. Come on down.”
When the boss offered a break and free food, you didn’t protest. She reverently put the lid down over the keys. This was one gorgeous instrument. What a waste, sticking it in the middle of a huge store where it only got a workout around holidays. It didn’t belong here. It belonged somewhere else. It belonged someplace it would be appreciated.
Like, say, her living room.
She climbed down the ladder with Nick waiting below; double glad she’d worn trousers this morning.
“Is the piano okay?” Nick asked, and she paused on the second-to-last rung, because he was standing so close to the ladder that she’d practically fall into his arms if she stepped down. She hung on, waiting for him to move back, but he continued, oblivious to her problem. “We bought it before last Christmas, and hired someone to play it over the holidays, but it has hardly been touched since then.”
“The piano is perfect. A lovely instrument.”
“Mary tells me you spent close to an hour dusting it before you started. Sounds like we need to have a talk with our cleaning staff.”
“Oh, no. They did their jobs. It’s just such a lovely instrument, I had to have it totally spotless and gleaming before I started.”
Nick shrugged. “It’s not played very often. I’m glad we’re changing that. Live music makes such a difference to the atmosphere.”
As if to prove his point, someone flipped on the store speakers, and a tinny version of Jingle Bells filled the store. She winced. “What is it about that song?” she sighed. “Doesn’t anybody ever get sick of it? Apart from me, I mean?”
Nick took a step back and she jumped down to the floor, only to look up at him again. He was towering over her now. That had been a plus up on the platform – she’d looked down at him. He wasn’t as intimidating that way. And she had better control of her butterflies up there. He was back in jeans and a thick sweater now. An open parka, dark-blue, a gray scarf. Dressed for snow. Like he was about to take his daughters outside to build a snowman – or in Emily’s case, a snowball fight was more likely.
And he looked scrumptious, of course.
He looked like bad news.
“How’s it going?” Mr. Scrumptious-slash-Bad News asked.
“Okay. Not bad.” She looked at him sideways as two little kids ran between them and attacked a display of Legos. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
He grinned. “Thank you.”
She smoothly moved out of the way as a third kid barreled through. She was getting pretty practiced at that. “Lots of toys. Lots of kids.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief, reminding her of little Emily. “Yup. That’s what a toy store is all about, isn’t it? Toys and kids. How about that lunch? There’s this nice restaurant just across the street. Ready to talk business?”
Sylvie noticed some of her co-workers looking curiously in their direction. “Sure. I should let someone know I’m leaving--”
“No need. I’ve already told Mary you’ll be back after lunch. Let’s go.”
He had that bossy look on his face again, the one she recognized so well from before. No, not bossy, more like desperate determination. Not that he had any reason to be desperate anymore. She’d already agreed. She’d promised to be there, and she never broke promises. It was one of those things Grandma Alex had felt strongly about, and she’d passed it on to her granddaughters as the 11th Commandment. But from the look on Nick’s face, he probably wouldn’t be relaxing until after Lana’s birthday party was over.
“So, have you had time to review the contract?” he asked as they settled down in a small restaurant just across the street, and ordered sandwiches and coffee.
“Yes. I’ve got it right here in my purse, signed and sealed.” She pulled it up and put on the table between them.
Nick nodded in approval as he flipped through, checking for her signature. “Excellent. So you approve of the terms?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. Who wouldn’t? It’s extravagant. I’m being bribed, and I know it. Nevertheless, I will take your money and run because a) I need it and b) I’m going back in the clown suit and I deserve to be well paid for it – and last but not least c) because you didn’t tell me this was a toy store and it’s only fair that little joke costs you a small fortune.”
Nick leaned back, laughing. She looked down and swallowed carefully. That charm was lethal when turned on full blast. “You mean you didn’t recognize the name?” he asked, that wicked look still blazing in his eyes. Emily was his daughter, no doubt about it. This man was just as frightening as his daughter – and probably an even worse risk to her sanity.
“R&R? Well -- no.” She crossed her arms on her chest, leaned back, and gave him the kind of look she really ought to have given his daughter the other day. “Of course, strictly speaking, that isn’t the name of the store, is it?”
“It’s what we call it at the office,” Nick said.
“ If you’d said Robots and Ragdolls, I’d have caught on. I do have to buy presents for kids occasionally, and this is the best toy store in town after all.”
“Sorry. About not warning you.” He didn’t look very sorry. Glee was still shimmering like glitter in his eyes. “I couldn’t help myself. Besides, I was afraid you’d turn me down if I told you the truth. But it’s not that bad, is it? I trust nobody has shoved fake snow up your nose, or tied you to the piano so they could stage a tribal war dance around you?”
“No,” she admitted grudgingly. “Not yet, at least. Of course, it’s early days yet.”
“Good. And how’s that comfort zone of yours? Expanding any yet?”
“ So that’s your excuse, is it? You’re helping!” Her fingers slashed quotations marks in the air, and she stared at him with disgust. Was the entire world collaborating with her evil cousins?
Nick ate his sandwich and just grinned at her. She sighed. “I swear, if I didn’t know better I’d think this was all my cousins’ doing. They didn’t hire you, did they?”
He chuckled. “No. It was all my own doing. But if you want to give them my phone number...”
Nope. She didn’t want to give any female Nick’s phone number. And she didn’t want to dwell too much on what that meant, either. “It’s just for the holiday season,” she told him. “This job, I mean. I wouldn’t feel right about taking your money longer than that. Not when what you’re really paying me for is that birthday party. I’m sure I’ll be able to find more temp jobs after the holidays, and then you can hire someone at more reasonable wages.”
Nick shrugged. “No problem. It’s up to you. Keep the job as long as you need it. The salary isn’t really that extravagant. I’m paying my assistant more than that, and she never lets up dropping hints about a raise.”
“When should I be there? For the birthday party, I mean?”
“Maybe around four – that okay with you? You only have to stay an hour or so. Four okay?”
She nodded reluctantly. “I suppose. Better get it over with.”
“Do you have a car? I can send someone for you if you don’t.”
“No problem, I have a car. I just hope I’ll be fit to drive back home afterwards. How many kids will be there?”
“Uh..... Six. Six...ish.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Six-ish?”
“Actually, I don’t know. I’ll do my best to keep the numbers down, but it’s a bit tricky.”
“How tricky can it get?”
“I told Emily she
could invite her ‘bestest’ friend from the neighborhood to her sister’s birthday party. She ran off to play in the backyard, some kids joined her, and when she got back, she told me she had four ‘bestest’ friends and they were all coming. And then there are Lana’s friends. We haven’t talked to them yet.”
A smile was trembling at the corner of her lips at the tug-of-war between affection and exasperation in Nick’s voice. She could imagine Emily kept him very busy. “So, six kids so far, and you haven’t even invited anyone yet?”
“That’s right. I’m sorry. They’ll behave themselves, I promise.”
“They better. I’ll be having anxiety attacks for a year.”
Nick looked guilty. “That bad?”
“I’ll live. How’s Lana doing?”
“Fine.” Nick smiled. “She’s really looking forward to her birthday. She wants pink paper plates with princess pictures and a polka-dot cake.”
Sylvie groaned. “No. Not more polka dots. And what is it about little girls and the color pink?”
“I have no idea. It’s one of the great mysteries of life. But you will be there, won’t you?”
Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Of course I’ll be there. I promised. I took the job. You’re still worried I’ll cut and run?”
“Well...” He grinned sheepishly and looked adorable. She crossed her eyes slightly so he’d morph out of focus. She didn’t need ‘adorable’ added to the mixture. She was just Iffy the clown. Only here because he was desperate to help his daughter. She’d better remember her place. And her place was inside a polka-dotted clown’s suit, about to sit down on a whoopee cushion with cream pie on her red-nosed face.
“Yes, I am a bit worried,” he confessed. “The girls keep asking about you. I didn’t dare tell them you would be there for sure. I wanted to check with you first.”
“ You have nothing to worry about. I will be your daughter’s personal birthday clown. I promised. And I’m here, aren’t I, playing Jingle Bells ad nauseum for an astronomical amount?”
Nick looked up from his sandwich and grinned. “Okay. Point taken. Thank you.”
That smile would be enough to keep her warm all day.
Damn.
* * *
“Is Iffy coming, Daddy? To Lana’s birthday? Is she coming?”
Nick sighed. It has been the first question Emily asked this morning. It had been the last question he’d heard last night, and now it was the first question she asked as he and Lana picked her up from preschool.
That was the reason he’d stopped by at Robots and Ragdolls today, wasn’t it. For his daughter’s sake, he’d wanted to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind, that she’d be there for Lana’s birthday.
Sylvie’s lovely eyes and that quirky smile had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.
He herded his daughters into the back seat, wondering how in the world this had happened. How had his daughters managed to form such an attachment to a total stranger who didn’t even like kids? Had they been infected with Fluffy’s feline temperament, that peculiar trait of always figuring out the anti-cat person and heading straight towards her?
Come to think of it, had he?
He’d certainly been quick enough to convince himself he needed to meet Sylvie for lunch. He’d managed to convince himself that it was imperative to make sure she was still coming to the birthday party – and that he urgently needed to finish up the paperwork regarding her new job.
Neither excuse held water when he thought about it. He could have had the papers delivered to R&R for her signature. And she’d already agreed to be their clown – she’d taken the job. Just the fact that she’d shown up for work proved that she intended to follow through.
Yeah, he’d been lying to himself. He’d just wanted to see her again, especially since their meeting had been cut so short. There was something there. Something that intrigued him enough to interfere with his work, intrude on his thoughts when he least expected it.
He’d been attracted to her personality already there in the snow, behind that ghastly clown’s face. He’d felt almost protective when she confessed to her fear of kids – and had an instant flashback to the first birthday party he’d hosted on his own.
Then later, he’d been amused and touched by the way she’d reacted towards his children in the restaurant – how she’d tried to hide her apprehension around Emily and her wariness of Lana’s needy gaze. She’d been awkward, but nevertheless tried to engage Lana in conversation and banter with mischievous Emily.
She might insist that she didn’t like kids, but she nevertheless had an affinity with them – and she didn’t even realize that. The whole package had warmed him to her.
Then she’d shown up at his office, all cleaned up – a different person. There was nothing he could have recognized about her. Barely even her voice, now that it wasn’t trembling from cold – or fear.
A lovely woman.
Shallow that he was, he’d liked her in the clown suit, but been startled to find himself lusting after her out of it. He was feeling rather annoyed with himself over the whole thing. Women and his daughters did not mix. He had hardly dated at all since the girls came to live with him. They were motherless and still traumatized after losing their mother – it would confuse them hopelessly if a woman was brought into their little family.
If he were going to pursue any kind of relationship with a woman, his daughters would not be brought into it unless something serious was going on. So he was definitely not about to give into superficial feelings for this clown. He hardly knew her anyway, and that was how it would stay.
Absentminded, he made sure his daughters were buckled in before starting the car to head home, not realizing he hadn’t answered Emily’s question.
“Will she, Daddy? Is Iffy coming?” Emily’s voice grew into a semi-shout, as it always did when he didn’t answer her right away. He gave her a look in the rearview mirror and she pouted as she knew what it meant. “I mean, will she, Daddy?” she whispered, melting his heart as always.
“Of course she’ll be there,” he said, looking at both of them. “She promised,” he added as he stopped at a red light, twisting around to meet Lana’s eyes. “She wouldn’t break a promise.” Besides, he had her name, address and social security number. No way she could back out now.
“But did you make sure,” Emily persisted. “Did you ask her?”
“ Yes, brat. I did. I met her at Robots and Ragdolls today and I talked to her. She’ll be there. Definitely. And you’re going to be nice to her. Right?”
“Yes,” Emily squirmed and looked out the window, probably to avoid meeting her father’s eye. “I’ll be nice.”
Lana was also looking out the window, but she was smiling. Nick smiled himself as he threaded the streets towards home. He’d waited so long for Lana to come out of her shell. He’d been confident she would, sooner or later, but even so, seeing the cracks in her armor widen and her smile light up the world, seemed nothing short of a miracle.
For some reason, Sylvie was a part of this process.
And that was all she’d be.
“A toy store?”
It was show time for Iffy the Clown. Both her cousins had shown up at Clowns and Clauses for a full report. And they were amused. More than amused. Susie was actually rolling around on the floor holding her stomach, while Helen was biting her lips to keep from exploding into undignified giggles, a very unusual state for cool, collected Helen.
“ Just you wait,” Sylvie said, glowering. “My suffering will have a proportional effect on the hell I’ll want to put the two of you through. And each minute you spend laughing at me, will mean an additional minute added to your version of hell.”
Even threats didn’t dampen their mirth. “It’s just too perfect,” Susie hiccupped. “After the clown thing.... deliberately not telling you he was offering you a job at a toy store. Ah, what a guy. I’m in love and I haven’t even met him yet. He sounds my type. Any chance you’ll introduce us?”<
br />
Sylvie narrowed her eyes at her friend. “No! Definitely not!”
“Heh!” Susie said smugly. “I suspected you’d say that.”
“And?” Helen prompted. “How is it? As terrible as you’d imagined?”
Sylvie wiped not-so-imaginary sweat of her forehead. “No. Not too bad. Better than I’d have expected. I mean, it could have been worse. The piano is relatively inaccessible. It’s up on a platform, I climb a ladder to get there, and you have to sort of squeeze behind a stage to get to the ladder. So I’m pretty much left alone. Only one very determined little brat managed to climb up and throw himself on the keyboard. His mother tried to bribe him with some Playmobile toys, but he still refused to get back down, kept hammering at the piano and I wasn’t about to be the one to climb down that ladder holding a screaming kid.”
“Wow. How did that end?”
“I managed to keep a smile on until someone finally alerted security and told them there was probably something wrong with the pianist, and this was not just modern day Christmas music. So they came and rescued me. Just one flash of uniform, and that kid shot down the ladder and stood there like an angel at his mother’s side, eyes wide and innocent. I have a sneaking feeling the little guy had met our scary security guards before. But that was the only trouble I had. Most of the kids were more interested in the wares. Well, or Santa.”
“ They had a Santa there? Was it one from Clowns and Clauses?” Susie asked.
“How should I know which Santa is yours?”
“Did he have green mittens? All our Santas have green mittens. It’s how we recognize each other. So many Santas in the city these days.”
“I didn’t notice his mittens, but he seemed a bit shell-shocked, poor guy.”
