Mommy for Hire

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Grady curbed his temper with effort. “A loving mother for my daughter. An undemanding but understanding wife for me.”

  “Is she going to need to be able to entertain?”

  “Yes.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Cook?”

  He pushed away the too-intimate memory of Alexis having dinner with them in their kitchen. He wondered if she had any idea how hard it was for him to let a woman into his life again, even in theory. How hard it was going to be to open himself up to even the possibility of loss.

  Savannah had already lost one mother.

  How would they survive if it happened again?

  Grady snapped out of his reverie when he realized Alexis was still waiting on an answer to her last question. “I don’t care if she can cook or not. Any woman you bring into our lives is going to have to be able to eat Savannah’s favorite foods with as much gusto as I do, though.”

  Finally, the faint hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Alexis’s lips. She wrote “fish sticks, mac’n cheese and applesauce” on the pad in front of her. “What else does Savannah like to eat?”

  This, Grady thought, was a lot easier to talk about. “Chicken fingers, hamburgers, hot dogs, grilled cheese, spaghetti, pizza and tacos.”

  She kept writing. “That’s it?”

  “It’s enough that we don’t have to repeat anything for eight days. And I don’t have to expand my culinary repertoire.”

  Alexis chuckled. “What does she eat for breakfast?”

  “Cereal, toast, pancakes and waffles. Lunch is peanut butter or bologna sandwiches.” Grady waited for Alexis to finish her list.

  Warming to the subject, he said, “It would probably also be nice if she was good at talking Savannah into doing things she doesn’t particularly want to do—like homework or brushing her hair.”

  Alexis wrote down diplomatic and persuasive in big bold letters.

  “And energetic,” Grady added as an afterthought. “She needs to be able to keep up with Savannah, especially with the month-long summer break coming, since I don’t plan to hire any more nannies.”

  Despite his decision to keep an emotional wall between them, Grady found himself fascinated by how quickly and delicately Alexis’s hand moved as she took notes. “And last but not least, any woman who wants to come into our lives has got to be able to love my little girl as much as I do.”

  Alexis nodded in agreement. “Well, I can see I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

  Grady stood. “How soon can you introduce prospective mommies to Savannah?”

  Alexis slipped her notebook in her briefcase. “I can have the first one here tomorrow, when Savannah comes home from school. But you’re going to need to do something, too, Grady. You’ve got to fill out that questionnaire I gave you when we met at your office.”

  Grady scowled. “It has four hundred questions.”

  She held up a palm—her left hand, he couldn’t help but notice. And the ring finger was bare.

  “I know it’s long,” Alexis said. “I’m sorry about that. Just e-mail me the results when you’re done. Our computer program will analyze the data and present us with a list of potential matches. We’ll go from there.”

  GRADY SHOULD HAVE FELT good. The process of finding the replacement mother his little girl wanted had begun. Instead, he felt unsettled. Deeply, peculiarly so. Worse, every time he tried to figure out why that was, he ended up thinking about Alexis Graham instead.

  He supposed that was because the straight-talking matchmaker was in charge of finding him a suitable wife, and her success rate of pairing up clients with someone to marry was close to one hundred percent.

  Fortunately, a series of phone calls on his latest development project kept him busy the rest of the evening. The next morning was spent getting himself off to work and the unusually cooperative Savannah off to school.

  As he arrived home with Savannah that evening, Alexis was pulling into his driveway.

  He watched her get out of her white BMW.

  Today, she was wearing a trendy teal suit that brought out the blue-green of her eyes. Her honey-colored locks had been drawn into a sophisticated french twist. A heart-shaped locket hung on a golden chain around her neck and nestled in the V of the silky teal blouse she wore beneath her jacket.

  Her high heels clicked on the drive as she made her way toward his Cadillac Escalade.

  Savannah, who had been pouting over the prospect of doing homework again, cheered up as she approached. “Daddy, it’s my fairy godmother! She’s here again!”

  And she was supposed to have a likely candidate with her, Grady recalled.

  He stepped down from the driver’s seat and greeted her.

  After returning the greeting, Alexis waved at Savannah, who was still strapped in her booster seat.

  The little girl waved back vigorously.

  “The first candidate should be here any second.”

  Grady breathed a sigh of relief. He really wanted to get this business over with as soon as possible. “Good,” he said.

  As if on cue, a station wagon pulled into his wide circular drive in front of the house.

  An attractive woman stepped out.

  She had a kind face, short dark hair and brown eyes. She was wearing the type of clothes a well-to-do suburban mom might wear—tailored beige slacks, a matching summer-weight sweater set and sensible shoes.

  Alexis made introductions. “Grady McCabe, I’d like you to meet Desdemona Bradford. Desdemona, this is Grady McCabe—the client I was telling you about.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Desdemona shook hands with Grady, while Savannah, who had unsnapped her safety belt, looked on curiously before opening the rear passenger door.

  Grady smiled and said hello, then turned to help his daughter from the car.

  “Savannah, this is Ms. Bradford.”

  “You can call me Desdemona,” she said with a smile.

  “She’s a librarian and she knows a lot about storybooks,” Alexis stated.

  “I brought some books for us to read.” Desdemona walked back to her station wagon to get them.

  Savannah studied the librarian skeptically. She was more thrilled at the items accompanying the stack of brand-new books. “Cookies and milk!”

  Desdemona shrugged. “I thought an icebreaker might be nice.”

  “Good move,” Alexis murmured.

  “You could join us,” Desdemona said to Grady.

  He nixed the offer with a brief shake of his head. “Actually, I’ve got some phone calls to return. But thanks.”

  Alexis, Desdemona and Savannah headed for the kitchen. Grady retired to the study that served as his at-home office.

  An hour later, there was a knock at the door.

  It was Alexis.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “I really like Desdemona. I think she’s a wonderful person.”

  “But…?” Grady prompted.

  “Maybe you should come out back and see for yourself,” Alexis suggested.

  Curious, Grady rose. He had taken off his suit jacket and tie, unfastened the top buttons on his shirt and rolled up the sleeves when he had sat down to work.

  Alexis had also taken off her suit jacket—probably due to the unusually warm June afternoon. The sleeveless silk shell she wore moved fluidly about her slender torso, and exposed her arms to view. Grady had always considered himself a leg man—and Alexis’s legs were spectacular—but for the first time he found himself equally entranced by the feminine shape of a woman’s arms. There was no doubt about it—Alexis’s shoulders, the supple curve of muscles in her upper arms, were every bit as alluring as the rest of her.

  Not that he should be thinking this way.

  Frowning, admonishing himself to stay on task, he followed her down the hall toward the back of the house. They walked through the breakfast room, out into the sunny family room and over to the French doors, which stood ajar.

  Alexis put out a hand
to stop him from stepping outside.

  “Just stand here and observe a moment,” she urged quietly.

  “I want more cookies!” Savannah was saying.

  “Sweetums, you’ve already had five.”

  “Daddy always lets me have six.”

  “No I don’t,” Grady murmured.

  “Hush,” Alexis said. She tapped the back of his hand lightly. “Pay attention!”

  “All right. But you can’t tell anyone I’ve given you another one!” Desdemona slipped another cookie from the bakery box balanced on top of the play fort platform.

  “I want you to do somersaults for me,” Savannah demanded.

  Desdemona flushed and wrung her hands. “I can’t. I’m too old, sweetums.”

  The girl sized her up shrewdly. “But that’s what I want!” she demanded around a mouthful of cookie.

  “How about we read books instead?” Desdemona pleaded.

  Realizing she had the upper hand, Savannah shook her head. “No! I want you to do what I say…and I want you to do it now or I’m going to scream!”

  “That’s enough,” Grady muttered.

  He strode through the French doors and out onto the grass.

  Desdemona had already slipped off her sensible shoes and was bending down, awkwardly attempting to figure out how to roll herself into a ball.

  Grady stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, then removed the half-eaten cookie from his daughter’s hand. “Savannah, you owe Ms. Bradford an apology.”

  “But, Daddy…!”

  “Right now, Savannah.”

  The child flushed and sighed, then mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

  Grady picked up the library books and what was left of the box of cookies, then turned to Desdemona. “Let me walk you out,” he said amicably.

  “DADDY’S MAD AT ME,” Savannah reported, when the two adults had disappeared through the wooden gate.

  “With good reason, it would seem,” Alexis answered. “You took advantage of Desdemona’s kindness.”

  Savannah scuffed her sneaker in the grass and said in a low, hurt tone, “She didn’t really want to play with me.” She paused, to make sure Alexis was listening. “She just did it because she had to.”

  And Savannah, understandably, hadn’t wanted any part of that. So she had acted out to get rid of her.

  Without warning, Grady was back. “Don’t you have homework to do, young lady?” he said.

  Savannah’s beleaguered look indicated she did.

  “Is it in your backpack?” he continued.

  She lifted one shoulder. “I guess so.”

  “What is it?”

  “A picture. We’re s’posed to finish coloring it.”

  Grady turned his daughter in the direction of the house. “All right. Please sit at the kitchen table and do your homework while I finish talking to Alexis.”

  Savannah tipped her head way back, so she could see her daddy’s face. “Then can she stay for supper and play with me like she did last night?”

  “I don’t think so. Go. Now.”

  Savannah uttered a dramatic sigh and trudged toward the door. By the time she reached it, however, she was skipping. Whether in joy or relief, it was hard to tell.

  Grady made sure she was out of earshot before he turned back to Alexis. “That was a disaster.”

  Alexis couldn’t disagree. “It’s not going to be easy to find a woman who will accept your criteria,” she warned. “A marriage without sex or emotional intimacy is going to be a tough sell.”

  Grady ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sure there is someone,” he stated in a low, aggravated tone.

  Alexis contained her own frustration with effort. “I didn’t say I was going to stop trying.” She turned to face him. “I want Savannah to have a mommy as much as you and she do—I think she deserves that and so much more. But clearly the next candidate can’t be someone who will let Savannah walk all over her.”

  Grady exhaled, his expression guilty. He massaged the muscles at the nape of his neck. “It’s all those nannies I’ve had.”

  Alexis paused. “How many were there again?”

  “At last count? Eight.”

  Wow. No wonder Savannah was having problems….

  “The first two were great. They were a lot older—in their early sixties. They each stayed two years, before health woes forced them to retire.” He sighed. “The next bunch were a lot younger. Physically able to keep up with Savannah, but each one wrong for some other reason.”

  “Such as…?”

  “Where do I begin?” He took a deep breath before forging ahead. “Marabelle let Savannah get away with everything and anything, so she had to go. Liza tried to hit on me. Penny was always on the phone. Grendel had allergies that wouldn’t let her spend any time outdoors. Xandra thought twelve hours of daily TV was just fine.” He threw up his hands. “And last but not least, there was Maryellen, who, as it turned out, spent the majority of her time practicing her yoga on the living room floor while Savannah sat in a corner with a book.”

  It sounded like a nightmare. One that could have been avoided? “How’d you find so many bad child care workers?” Alexis asked curiously.

  Grady stepped onto the shaded patio. “Don’t ask me. They all had references. Experience.” He waved her out of the sun, too. Once Alexis was beside him, he looked down at her and continued. “I guess the main problem was that the two older nannies I had were so great with Savannah, she was devastated when they left. Although both Olivia and Graciella keep in touch, it’s not the same. To the younger, more energetic nannies, taking care of Savannah was just a job.

  “By the time they came, she was old enough to observe the other kids in her preschool and kindergarten classes with their mothers, and realize what they had and she didn’t. She wants a mother who loves her, and I don’t blame her. I want that for her, too.” Grady paused, his eyes clouding over. “I can’t pretend I’m ever going to feel for another woman what I felt for my late wife. It’s impossible.”

  Alexis nodded, understanding. “Grief like that can be very hard to overcome.” But hopefully, not impossible, for him or for her. Otherwise, she’d never have what she wanted out of life, either.

  An increasingly uncomfortable silence fell between them.

  Finally, Grady looked deep into Alexis’s eyes and stated quietly, “I still have to give my daughter what she needs. Even if it means entering into a marriage of convenience.”

  Alexis could see there was no changing his mind. A marriage of convenience it would be.

  Chapter Three

  “Burning the midnight oil?” Holly Anne looked pointedly at the extra-large latte in Alexis’s hand, as she entered the conference room and took command.

  Alexis smiled politely and made a mental note to work a little harder to cover up her growing disillusionment. As much as she was loath to admit it, the deep-seated frustration she felt this morning was only partly due to the heavy rainfall. It was more about the demanding client in her care.

  The dozen other staffers already at the conference table regarded her with thinly disguised envy. Everyone there wanted the plum task of spending time with the delectably handsome, oh-so-eligible Grady McCabe. Of course, Alexis reassured herself practically, that probably would change if they knew how impossible he was going to be to match. It wasn’t that she couldn’t find a woman who would be willing to trade money for love. There was always someone viable in that category, of either sex. It was trying to find someone who would do so who would still be good for Savannah. That, Alexis wasn’t sure was possible. And she did not want to let the adorable little girl down.

  “Grady McCabe is particular,” she said finally, wincing slightly when lightning lit up the dark morning sky.

  Sandi Greevey sighed and said, over the rumble of thunder, “If you ask me, he’s fooling himself if he thinks a woman is going to sign on without even the possibility of love or sex.”

  “I don’t know,” said another colleague,
as rain lashed the windows with gusty force. “Hope burns eternal.”

  “Tell that to Russ and Carolyn Bass,” Doreen Ross quipped.

  Holly Anne frowned, clearly disappointed by the recent divorce filing that had flooded the morning airwaves. “I thought those two would last forever,” she lamented.

  So had Alexis, when she’d matched them.

  “Just goes to show money doesn’t buy happiness,” Sally Romo said.

  The receptionist walked in just then and handed Alexis a note.

  She let out a breath slowly. Just what she needed to make her day even more difficult.

  Six hours later, it was still raining heavily as she drove to Grady McCabe Enterprises’s most recent acquisition.

  The three-block area just south of downtown Fort Worth was blocked off as a construction zone and surrounded by a twelve foot high fence. Entrance to the muddy, rubble strewn demolition zone was monitored by an electric gate and a uniformed guard in a gray-and-black rain slicker.

  “Alexis Graham, here to see Grady McCabe,” she said when he stuck his head out the window of the gatehouse.

  “He’s expecting you, Ms. Graham. Proceed straight ahead to the last trailer. You can park behind it. Mr. McCabe is waiting inside.”

  Resentful that she was going to have to take her company-leased BMW through the car wash after this expedition, Alexis drove slowly through the gravel and mud, past a sign proclaiming this as the site of the new GME high-rise, to the quartet of construction trailers parked near the back of the sprawling lot.

  There were six vehicles parked next to the last trailer.

  She slid her BMW into the last available slot, grabbed her umbrella and briefcase, and got out.

  THE MEETING HAD JUST broken up when the knock sounded on the trailer door.

  Through the rain beating against the windows, Grady could see Alexis Graham standing on the wooden steps.

  He rushed to open the door so she could get in out of the rain.

  Water darkened the fabric of her vivid yellow trench coat. Her heels, stockings—even the hem of her raincoat—were coated with mud. Too late, he realized he should have suggested she dress more casually and maybe wear boots.