The Single Mom and the Tycoon

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘You came,’ she said, as if she didn’t quite believe it, and, without waiting for confirmation, she put her arms round him and he found himself engulfed in a warm, delicately scented and welcoming embrace.

  And suddenly he could see what his father saw in her—the warmth, the genuine affection, the kindness. If Molly was a good woman, then so was Liz, and he was suddenly fiercely glad his father had found her.

  He kissed her cheek, stepped back and smiled down at her. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  ‘Probably not as much as I’ve heard about you. Your father misses you, you know.’

  ‘So I’ve been told.’

  ‘Have you seen him yet? When did you fly in?’

  ‘Yesterday—I arrived in the morning.’

  Her eyes searched his face. ‘So—did you stay in London overnight?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I’m staying with Molly. I gather she’s a friend of yours.’

  ‘You know Molly Blythe?’ she said, sounding astonished, and he shook his head again.

  ‘No. I met her yesterday. She does B and B.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but—David, you don’t have to stay with Molly! Your father was expecting you to stay here. We’ve got the room ready—he’ll be so disappointed.’

  Damn. Yet again, he’d caused his father pain, and now he had to get out of it. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to intrude on you—’

  ‘Intrude? He’s your father, David! And you won’t intrude on me, I’m not living here yet.’

  ‘Ah—I didn’t realise,’ he said, feeling himself colour slightly. ‘Sorry. It’s none of my business, but I just assumed—well, hell, you’re adults. Why not?’

  ‘Because of the grandchildren,’ she replied simply. ‘We didn’t feel it was right to be together until we were married. So—no, we haven’t lived together—but we are, as you say, adults,’ she added with a smile. ‘Enough said.’

  Indeed. He filed that one away for later and dealt with the here and now. ‘The trouble is I’ve promised Molly I’ll stay there, now, and I can’t let her down. She needs the money.’

  ‘Well, that’s certainly true.’ She eyed him assessingly, then backed down, to his relief. ‘OK. You obviously have your reasons, so I won’t push, and I won’t let the family push you, either, but if you change your mind—’

  He nodded. ‘Thanks.’ The air lifted and he sucked in a breath and looked around. ‘So—where will I find him?’

  ‘Up at the spa. He’s going through a snagging list with the site agent at the moment, then he and Nick are going back to Nick and Georgie’s for lunch. I’m meeting them there in a little while. I was just dropping some things off. In fact,’ she said with a glance at his shoulders, ‘you can give me a hand to lift them, and then we’ll go over there together. Some of the boxes are a bit heavy.’

  And, opening the front door, she went back to the car and opened the boot. ‘Here—could you start with this one? Goodness knows what’s in it, it weighs a ton.’

  He picked up the box, carried it in and yelled, ‘Where to?’ over his shoulder.

  ‘Oh—upstairs,’ she replied, and he carried it up and hesitated on the landing. Would they be in his parents’ room? Oh, hell—

  ‘In here,’ she said, going into what had always been the spare bedroom, and he felt a tension he hadn’t even been aware of ease a little. ‘We’ve decided we’ll use this room when we’re married because of the view of the garden.’

  He stacked the box beside the others, and followed her downstairs, her footsteps light except for a slight limp, a legacy from the accident which had killed her daughter.

  ‘There’s more!’ she called and, with a wry smile, he went out to the drive to help her carry the rest of her things into what was to be her new home—the home she’d share with his father.

  He had a sudden pang of envy, and for some inexplicable reason an image of Molly popped into his mind and caught him by surprise.

  Not just Molly. Molly and himself. Together, eating dippy eggs on the veranda every morning for the rest of their lives. Now where had that come from?

  He shifted the rest of the boxes while he pondered the idea and, when it was all done, Liz looked at her watch and said, ‘Right. They’ll be finished now and back at Nick’s. Why don’t you come with me?’

  ‘Fine,’ he said, and it was. The first hurdle was over, and the rest suddenly seemed much, much easier.

  Till they got there.

  ‘Ah. Everyone’s here. I hadn’t thought of that.’

  Liz was standing by her car, eyeing the over-full drive with dismay.

  ‘Everyone?’ he asked.

  ‘Harry and Daniel—and if they’re here, their wives and children will be here too, probably. It’ll be chaos. Do you want me to go in and get him?’

  He thought about it for all of a second, then locked his car and found a smile. ‘Just lead the way.’

  She pushed the door open and went in, and he followed her down a beautiful entrance hall, past a graceful staircase and into a big, bustling family kitchen. There were children and dogs everywhere, and a little girl cannoned into him with a giggle and hid behind his legs.

  ‘You can’t get me!’ she chanted, then ran off with the other children in hot pursuit, just as the adults turned and parted, and he looked across the room and met his father’s eyes.

  ‘David?’

  The room fell instantly silent, with nothing to break it but the echo of the children’s laughter as they ran away down the hall, and he could feel everyone’s eyes on him.

  ‘Hello, Dad,’ he said quietly, and then with a strangled sound his father started towards him.

  He met him halfway, crushed in a bear hug that brought a great lump to his throat, and then when his father released him Georgie was there, blooming with pregnancy, her eyes misting. ‘Well, if it isn’t the prodigal son. About bloody time,’ she said, her voice cracking, and then she was in his arms, hugging him nearly as hard as his father had, her tiny solid body pressed up against him so he could feel the firm pressure of her bump against him.

  His niece or nephew—her second child by a man he had yet to meet.

  Hell.

  She let him go and he looked around, recognising Harry and Dan and Emily, old friends from his teens, together with another woman who must be Iona, Dan’s wife.

  Not the quiet reunion with his family that he’d planned, but then the man he’d never seen except in photographs stepped forward, hand outstretched, and he felt the tension return.

  ‘David—Nick Barron. It’s good to meet you at last.’

  ‘And you.’

  The handshake lasted mere seconds, politely civil. No ice-breaking smile, no welcome, just a man in command of the situation who eyed him assessingly as he shook his hand. Oh, well, at least he hadn’t crunched his knuckles, David thought. Much too civilised, but he guessed it was a thin veneer. The man had a core of steel. He had a bit of work to do there to repair the damage to his reputation, clearly. Ah, well. All in good time. He could deal with Nick. In his position he’d be just the same.

  And then, in what seemed like a collective effort at damage limitation, they all started to talk at once, Dan and Harry breaking away to shake his hand with much more warmth, Emily reaching up to give him a kiss.

  Someone put a glass in his hand, and then he was handed a sandwich, and his father put a hand on his arm and led him away, sitting him down at a table to one side and staring at him intently, relearning a face that time and circumstances had changed. He knew this. He was doing the self-same thing.

  ‘You look…’

  ‘Older?’ he said with a wry smile at his father.

  ‘Well—yes. More mature, anyway. I keep forgetting you’ve changed since you went away. You weren’t much more than a boy then.’

  ‘Yes, I was,’ he corrected gently. ‘You saw to that. And I was very grateful for it, and for all the other things you taught me. And it’s not as
if you haven’t seen me since.’

  ‘I know, but not enough. I’ve missed you, you know.’

  He swallowed. ‘I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry I haven’t been around since your heart attack.’

  ‘No matter. You’re here now. How’s the ankle?’

  ‘Fine,’ he said truthfully. ‘It doesn’t give me any trouble now.’ Unlike his conscience.

  ‘Good. I’m glad. I’m sorry I couldn’t get over to see you, it was obviously a bad break.’

  He gave a choked laugh. ‘Not as bad as your heart attack. I would have been here if I could. You do know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ he said, and he sounded almost convincing. ‘So—how’s it been? You’ve built yourself quite a little empire in the last eleven years. Has it been worth it?’

  He thought of the last three, and blanked them out of his mind. ‘Most of it. I’ve had my ups and downs—’ to put it mildly, he thought ‘—but it’s been interesting—is interesting.’ And eye-wateringly successful, but that wasn’t important now.

  Clearly his father disagreed. ‘I’ve kept an eye on your websites. You’ve done well.’

  ‘You taught me well. And I listened.’

  His father smiled. ‘Good. I’m glad it’s all come in handy. So—are you home for long this time?’ he asked, trying and failing to keep the hope out of his voice, and David hated to take away that hope, but it wouldn’t be fair to let him think he was home for good. That just wasn’t realistic.

  ‘A while,’ he said, temporising. ‘Several weeks, anyway.’

  George’s face fell. ‘I suppose you can’t take too long away from the business.’

  If he only knew. David shrugged and tried for a smile. ‘Oh, you know how it is. It all piles up when you turn your back on it. You can always come to me. I’d love to show you round.’

  ‘We might. I’m thinking of retiring.’

  ‘Good. About time. Just try and give me a few weeks’ notice so I can clear the decks a bit. So—tell me about this leisure spa thing you’ve been doing. Georgie said it was wonderful and it certainly looks good from the outside, but I gather it’s been a long haul.’

  ‘It has, but we’re just finished. The pool’s commissioned, everything’s been tested and signed off, and we’ve just done the final walk through, so at least it’s come in on time and on budget.’

  ‘That’s a miracle,’ David said wryly, and his father chuckled.

  ‘Thank Nick. He runs a tight ship.’

  I’ll just bet, he thought, but said nothing, and his father went on, ‘It opens on Thursday night. Big gala event, with lots of press and local dignitaries and celebrities and the movers and shakers of Suffolk. I don’t suppose you’d like to come?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ he said, even though a fancy do like that was the last place on earth he’d choose to be.

  ‘Really?’

  He could see the pleasure something so small had given the older man, and the guilt redoubled. ‘Really,’ he said. ‘It would be a privilege. I saw it on the way into town, and it looks fantastic.’

  ‘Fancy a guided tour?’ George said, and the eagerness on his father’s face gave the guilt another nudge. ‘They don’t need us. It would be nice to have you to myself for a minute.’

  He found a smile. ‘Fine. I’ll give you a lift, if you like? I expect your car’s a bit hemmed in.’

  They stood up, and Georgie came over and slipped her arm round David’s waist, smiling up at him although her eyes were anxious. ‘You’re not running away?’ she said, and he was stunned to see that she could almost believe it.

  How much had his absence hurt these innocent people? He squeezed her back.

  ‘No. We’re going to see the spa.’

  ‘Well, don’t be too long. I want to introduce you to the children. They’re dying to meet their Uncle David properly. Dad, you make sure you bring him back soon.’

  ‘We won’t be long. Tell Liz where we’ve gone.’

  She walked them to the door and waved them off, and he led his father over to his hire car and opened the door for him, then went round and slid behind the wheel.

  ‘Are you renting this?’

  ‘Yes—well, I’m going to be here a while, and I’ll need a car.’

  ‘I’ve still got the Saab in the garage,’ he said, and David paused with his hand on the key.

  ‘Really? Mum’s old convertible?’

  His father smiled fondly. ‘Well—she thought it was hers, but I drove it most of the time. I still go out in it now and then. I kept it for you.’

  He felt a wave of emotion. ‘I loved that car,’ he said, a lump in his throat that no amount of swallowing would seem to shift.

  ‘It’s yours. It’s taxed and insured—have it. It’s automatic, but then so’s this, so I imagine that’s your preference anyway?’

  ‘It is.’ He nodded, giving an inward sigh of relief. ‘I’ll need to get rid of this, but I’m sure they’ve got an office somewhere nearby.’

  ‘I’m sure they have. We can do it tomorrow, if you like? You can take this car back and I’ll follow you in the Saab. Maybe we could go for a run in it.’

  He shot his father a crooked grin and fired up the engine. ‘That would be great. I’ll buy you lunch.’

  His father grinned back. ‘Done. Just don’t tell Liz what I have to eat!’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘SO HOW did it go?’

  He smiled, a genuine smile that really seemed to come from the heart, and propped himself up against the worktop while Molly washed out her brushes. ‘Great. Good. Much easier than I thought it would be.’

  She gave him a keen look, searching his eyes. ‘And did your father and sister give you hell for being away for so long?’

  He gave a gruff laugh. ‘No more than I deserved. And I met Liz. She’s a star.’

  Molly heard the warmth in his voice and smiled. ‘I knew you’d like her.’

  ‘Yeah, I do. She’s not my mother, but she’s not trying to be, and they get on really well. It was a real pleasure to see him so happy. And nobody said anything about my leg, so I guess it was a success all round.’

  ‘Good. So, are you in for the night?’ she asked, drying her hands and mentally pondering the void that was her fridge, and he nodded.

  ‘If that’s OK? They were all busy, and Dad was looking tired, so I left them to it. Is that a problem?’

  She gave a little smile. ‘It’s fine. I need to go shopping, though, before I can feed us.’

  ‘Want me to babysit Charlie?’

  ‘Um—actually, I was wondering—I was going to give us pasta and pesto with a bit of grated cheese if you didn’t come back, but I’m guessing you won’t want that, and anyway Charlie had the cheese before he went to bed and I haven’t got anything else in the fridge. I was hoping Bob would have some more fish, but he didn’t and the fish kiosk was shut.’ She ground to a halt, hating to ask him for money and not really knowing how to when the cabin was in such a state, and after all his help in the garden, but she’d bought the paint and when she’d gone back for more brushes, her card had been declined.

  She should have bought the food first, but she hadn’t realised how close to the bottom of the barrel she was.

  So it was ask him or tell him she couldn’t feed him.

  She was just winding herself up to say the words when he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and withdrew a huge—really huge—wad of cash.

  ‘Before you go, let me give you this. I don’t know what you were going to charge me, but there’s five hundred here, so I suppose it’ll probably cover the first three weeks or so up front? We can work it out later on, but I didn’t want you running short and having to nag me every few days. It’ll save you having to use your card.’

  She stared at it, hideously conscious of the prickle of tears behind her eyes. ‘Um—are you sure? That’s enough for—’ She did a quick mental calculation. ‘Gosh—it’s well over a month. Weeks.’

  ‘I
don’t think much of your maths.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with my maths!’

  ‘Really? I would say there was, because either you can’t divide or you can’t budget.’ But his smile softened the words, and he held his hand out again, pushing the cash towards her until finally she reached out and took it.

  ‘Are you sure you want to give me all this up front?’ she asked. ‘Since I can’t budget?’

  He grinned. ‘Well, apart from the fact that I’d like breakfast in the morning, I thought it would give you a head start on the building materials. You’ll need some paint for the cabin if I’m going to do it for you.’

  ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,’ she said, feeling the thickness of the wad of cash and resisting the urge to run away and kiss it. ‘I started painting the attic room today.’

  His mouth twitched. ‘I thought you had paint in your hair.’

  She laughed. ‘Occupational hazard. I always have paint in my hair, only this time it’s emulsion.’

  ‘What is it usually?’

  ‘Acrylic, mostly. I’m an artist—didn’t I mention that?’

  ‘You said something about helping Liz out in her classes, but I didn’t really make the connection. So where do you paint?’

  ‘In the little bedroom,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘It’s too small. I work messily, and I like to be able to stand back, so the only way I can do that is to go down the landing and then I’m looking into the light and—well, it just doesn’t work. That’s why I’ve done the attic. I’m going to move in there once I’ve done up the cabin so I can use it for guests again, then I can use the back bedroom which I’m in at the moment as a studio.’

  ‘Except you’ve run out of funds and time.’

  ‘Oh, you listened to that bit,’ she teased, and his mouth quirked a little.

  ‘I listened to everything you said,’ he told her softly. ‘I just didn’t make sense of all of it at first, but I’m getting there. I’d like to see your paintings some time—later, maybe?’

  ‘Sure. I ought to go shopping so I can feed you first, if you don’t mind babysitting?’