Family for Keeps & Sadie's Hero

by Margaret Daley

  No! He wouldn’t permit his past to intrude now. He needed to turn around and concentrate on the Madison project. But he had one of those dreams last night, and afterward he always had a difficult time not giving in to his emotions.

  At thirty-seven he was one of the four senior vice presidents of a large international food corporation. Most of his special projects he’d worked on involved enhancing IFI’s reputation in the community and marketplace. His hard work the past fifteen years had paid off. He should be elated, on top of the world. He wasn’t. Lately he had felt more and more a vague restlessness, as though something was missing from his life, and when he did, he didn’t feel in control. He wouldn’t tolerate that.

  A knock startled him from his reflection. He swiveled his chair to face the door. “Come in.”

  Bill, one of the guards on duty downstairs, came into the office, followed by Sadie Spencer. “Mr. Knight, she says she has an appointment with you. I told her you don’t meet with people on Sundays. I started to send her away, but she persuaded me to check with you first. She said you’re expecting some kind of proposal from her.” Bill lowered his gaze to the carpet. “I didn’t want to turn her away if that was true.”

  Andrew contained his smile at the sheepish look on the guard’s face. After his brief encounter with Sadie Spencer the night before, Andrew could just imagine her unusual kind of persuasion. “Thanks, Bill. I’ll take care of Miss Spencer.”

  “I hope you and Frank enjoy my chocolate doughnuts,” Sadie said as the guard left.

  Andrew chuckled. “So that’s how you got the man to bring you up here. Bill and Frank usually guard my privacy like a mother hen guarding the chicken coop. I’m going to have to speak with them about women bearing gifts of food.”

  Sadie crossed the room, sat in front of his desk and placed several pieces of paper, a box and a thermos with two mugs before him. “I hope you aren’t too angry with them. After all, you told me to get my proposal about Special Olympics to you as soon as possible. I stayed up last night so you could have it first thing this morning before I go to church.”

  “I’m impressed.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s only nine, less than twelve hours since I saw you last. I wish I could get my employees to work that fast.” He picked up the papers and flipped through them. “You did all this last night after the banquet?”

  “Yes. It’s important.”

  He lifted his gaze from the proposal, locking with hers across his desktop. Her brown hair was pulled back in a French braid. Her face, with her pleasing features, held only a touch of makeup. She looked refreshed, ready to take on the world. But it was her eyes that drew him. They were dark, almost black. For a fleeting moment while they stared at each other, he sensed a haunting vulnerability she tried to conceal from the world. But he knew it was there beneath the surface and wondered what or who was responsible for putting it there. He felt a connection to her that momentarily stunned him.

  He cleared his throat and looked away, dismissing the common bond. “I’ll get back with you concerning your proposal as soon as I’ve studied it.” His gaze fell to the box. “You said chocolate doughnuts? I must confess I have a weakness for chocolate.”

  “Chocolate has that effect on people. I, too, love it, but I also have oat bran muffins with me. I don’t want to be accused of feeding you only unhealthy food. I baked these this morning.” She opened the box and began to withdraw all the goodies she brought.

  Andrew watched, fascinated. Not only were there doughnuts and oat bran muffins, but also a coffee cake and cinnamon rolls. “You baked all these this morning!”

  “Well—” she paused and peered at him “—after finishing the proposal at three, I couldn’t go to sleep, so I baked. I like to cook. I find it soothing.”

  He watched her as she walked across his office and wondered where in the world she put all the food she cooked. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on her. She had all the right curves for her small frame. “What do you do with the food you cook?”

  “I eat it. That or I invite some friends over to help me.” She closed the box and put it on the floor next to her chair. “Or I freeze it. Of course, I have to have a party periodically to clean out my freezer.”

  Her voice was tinged with laughter, and he felt himself responding to that. It was a rich sound that was comforting. It touched his restlessness and soothed him.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Sadie asked, holding up the thermos. “I’d better warn you there’s something a little extra in my coffee.”

  Before he could answer, she started pouring two mugs full. He eyed the coffee as she handed it to him. “Something extra?”

  “I have several secret blends. This is what I call my morning pick-me-upper.”

  Andrew cautiously brought the mug to his lips, taking a deep breath of the wonderful aroma, and sipped. The coffee slid down his throat, warming him all the way. It was strong but smooth with no bitter aftertaste. “This is delicious. What’s in it?”

  She smiled, a smile that made her dark eyes sparkle like polished jet that caught in the sunshine. “A woman has to have some secrets. I’m usually an open book except for some of my special recipes.” The smile deepened, bringing a playfully wicked gleam to her eyes. “I figured you would be ready for breakfast about now.”

  “How did you know I didn’t have breakfast this morning?”

  “Just a guess, but I bet food is unimportant to you.”

  “Why do you say that? We have to have food to exist.” Andrew bit into a rich doughnut with melted chocolate dripping off it.

  “I saw you eating last night at the banquet, and you hardly noticed the food you were putting into your mouth. You think of food as a way to keep yourself alive. I think of food as a delicious experience to be relished.”

  He began to chew the doughnut more slowly, taking notice of its sweet taste for the first time. He had never thought about his eating habits, but he supposed he did rush through his meals, rarely taking notice of what he ate, as Sadie Spencer pointed out after only one observation. Suddenly he was disconcerted that someone was able to read him so well in such a short time. He had worked hard not to reveal himself to others.

  “I bet you usually skip breakfast, too.” Sadie interrupted his thoughts. “If you have anything it’s probably a cup of coffee when you get to work.”

  “Have you been following me?” He picked up an oat bran muffin and began eating it while she refilled his mug.

  “No, but I’ve known many people just like you. Most have their biggest meal at night, when for weight purposes it should be either at breakfast or lunch. Breakfast is when I eat the most. That way I have all day to work off the calories.” She stopped talking abruptly. “Excuse me. I have a habit of going on and on at times. It’s the teacher in me. I teach nutrition and cooking to my students and can’t resist talking about the subject. Just hold up a hand when you want me to stop. Breakfast is a great way—”

  With his hand raised, he chuckled. Sadie Spencer was just what he needed to forget his melancholy mood. She swept into his office with mouthwatering temptations and a bright smile that dazzled a person. He was glad she had come, and he couldn’t believe he wasn’t upset that someone had interrupted him on a Sunday, which just wasn’t done.

  “You’ve sold me on the fact that breakfast is important.” Andrew held up the cinnamon roll he was going to sample. “You’re certainly more than a teacher.”

  “Why, of course. Everyone is more than what they do for a living. I’m sure in your spare time you do a lot of things. It just so happens that I love to cook in my spare time.” Tilting her head to the side, she smiled again. “Well, one of the things I like to do.”

  “What are some of the other things you like to do?”

  “Besides teaching, which I love, I’m involved in Special Olympics and Children Charities, but you already know that. I am also a Sunday school teacher—six-and seven-year-olds. I like to read anything having to do with history, and I do
the usual sporting things, tennis, golf, swimming, skiing—”

  “Whoa.” Andrew raised his hand again. “When do you rest? I thought I was busy, but you’re wearing me out listening to all your activities.”

  “Oh, what kind of hobbies do you have?” She snapped her fingers. “No, wait. The catalog said you like to play golf and read. So we do have something in common. What do you like to read?”

  He frowned, trying to remember the last book he had read for pleasure. “Tons of stuff, all related to work. And before you ask about golf, when I do play it is for business purposes.”

  “Those aren’t hobbies.”

  “I don’t have much spare time.”

  “You work all the time?”

  He straightened in his chair, his frown growing more pronounced. “I enjoy working.”

  She started to pour some more coffee, but he shook his head. “So do I, but I also enjoy my free time, too. All work makes—”

  “Don’t say it.” Her teasing censure made him feel uncomfortable, as though he had wasted half his life climbing the corporate ladder. Andrew shifted the papers on his desk, then continued in a businesslike voice. “And speaking of work, I have a lot still to do today, and didn’t you say something about going to church?” He didn’t usually have to defend his work habits with the people he knew, and he didn’t want to start now. His job had served him well over the years.

  “Yes, but…” For a second, surprise flickered in her dark eyes. Quickly she lowered her lashes and busied herself cleaning up.

  Andrew watched as she put everything into the box and closed the lid. He would consider her proposal, take her out on the date she’d paid for, and that would be all. It would end as quickly as it had begun. Relationships were always so much easier when they were kept on a friendly but impersonal basis. He had learned that painfully when he had been shuffled from one foster family to the next.

  Sadie scooted the box toward him, then rose. “I’ve left you some food for later.” She extended her hand across the desk, no expression in her expressive eyes now. “Thank you for taking the time to look at my proposal.”

  Her tone equaled his in stiff politeness. Rising, he accepted her hand, needing this meeting to come to an end as soon as possible. “I’ll call you about the date later in the week.”

  After picking up her thermos and mugs, she started to say something, but instead just stared at him. The darkness of her eyes intensified as a small frown knitted her brows. Andrew knew she was debating whether to speak her mind. He was surprised when she decided not to and turned to leave. His curiosity was aroused as he watched her walk toward the door. What had she wanted to say to him, and why hadn’t she? He was sure she usually spoke her mind. She was probably not afraid of many people.

  The sound of the door clicking shut reverberated through the office, and for a few seconds he felt totally alone, as though no one else existed in the world. A tight band about his chest tautened, constricting his breathing. Why did he feel as though he’d let Sadie Spencer down? And why did he care?

  Chapter Two

  Sadie couldn’t quite believe she was traveling to the Crescent City to have her date with Andrew Knight. That morning he’d called her from New Orleans, where a business negotiation had lasted longer than he’d thought it would. He would have to stay the whole day. He’d left it up to her—to come in IFI’s jet, which was bringing a sales team to a conference or to wait until some indefinite time in the future for their date. She’d told him immediately that she would come to New Orleans, because she didn’t know when the man would ever have the time to fit her into his work-consuming schedule. She wanted to get him involved with her students, but how was she going to accomplish that between all his business meetings?

  Sadie was jolted from her musings when the stewardess announced the jet was preparing to land at New Orleans International Airport. She checked to make sure her seat belt was fastened, then tried to ready herself mentally for the landing, her hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly her knuckles were white. She certainly wasn’t destined to be a world traveler. She was fine in the air, but the takeoffs and landings always reminded her of how fragile life was and that at this moment she wasn’t at all in control of it.

  “Dear Lord, please give me the strength to persuade this man to give my students a chance at working in the community. Guide me and help me see Your path. In Jesus’s name, amen,” she murmured, the prayer taking her mind off the plane’s descent.

  When the jet touched ground, Sadie inhaled, then exhaled a deep breath. She tried not to think that she still had the return flight to get through. At least she wouldn’t be alone and would be able to talk to Andrew to take her mind off flying.

  As she descended the steps from the jet, she was accosted by the stifling heat of an October afternoon in New Orleans. The humidity blanketed her in a fine sheen, and she remembered all the time that morning she had taken to apply her makeup and to select the right sundress to wear. Ruined after one minute, she thought with a silent laugh.

  At the bottom of the steps she scanned the area. No Andrew Knight. As she was trying to decide what to do, a white limousine approached the jet, and a chauffeur climbed out of the car.

  “Miss Spencer?”

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Knight sent me to pick you up. He regretted yet another delay, but by the time you arrive at the house, he will be through with his business.”

  “Where’s Mr. Knight?” Sadie asked, puzzled about where his meeting was taking place.

  “At Oakcrest Plantation. My employer owns the plantation. It’s outside New Orleans. About a thirty-minute drive, Miss Spencer.”

  “Is your employer Mr. Madison?” Andrew had mentioned the man on the phone that morning. The negotiations must be taking place at his house.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The chauffeur opened the back door for her, and she slid into the luxurious car, the soft feel of leather beneath her fingertips. On the ride out of New Orleans, she savored the distinctive sights of the river city. She particularly loved its history with its French and Spanish heritage. She should return one day and really see the city and its Southern culture. The romantic, as well as the historian, in her demanded it.

  The gray shadows of dusk spread across the landscape as the limousine pulled into a long driveway lined with huge oaks that formed a canopy over the lane. Spanish moss dripped from their branches as though the trees were weeping. She felt like she was suddenly back in the time right before the Civil War and was going to a weekend ball at a neighboring plantation.

  She was beginning to visualize herself dressed in a hoop skirt made of yards and yards of silk material when the car stopped in front of the massive front veranda. Sadie looked out the window at the eight tall columns and white facade and fell in love with the place. She wished she had a home like this. Such a romantic, she chided herself and climbed out of the car when the chauffeur opened the back door.

  Andrew came onto the veranda. The beautiful house behind him was eclipsed by his presence. Pausing on the steps, Sadie allowed her gaze to trek up his length, her earlier impression of his single-minded ruthlessness reconfirmed. What arrested her about Andrew Knight was the sense this man before her was tough, aggressive, individualistic, a man who controlled his own destiny. He would stand out in a room crowded with successful men. His regard held an intensity of purpose she seldom encountered.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the airport, Sadie. I trust your flight was okay?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, suddenly not sure how to act. She was inundated with the feeling she shouldn’t be here, that she was starting something that could hurt her in the end.

  “Darrell and I just finished twenty minutes ago.”

  Sadie was surprised to find Andrew dressed casually in black slacks and a white polo shirt. She had expected no less than a three-piece business suit, since he had been working. In her brief encounters with him he’d seemed like a man who fo
llowed business protocol down to the last stitch of clothing. But then, if she thought about her presence in New Orleans, she would have to admit that her being here was a bit unusual in itself. She couldn’t see him mixing business with pleasure. He was definitely a complex man, full of contradictions, she decided.

  “Let’s go inside, and I’ll introduce you to Darrell and his wife.”

  Andrew motioned for her to go first, resting his hand at the small of her back. It wasn’t an intimate gesture but a casual one. Even knowing that, Sadie couldn’t help the quickening of her heartbeat as she entered the antebellum home.

  Inside the foyer he dropped his hand. “They’re in the den at the back of the house. Ruth and Darrell Madison, besides being good friends, don’t stand on ceremony. They insisted I ask you to join us and were glad you decided to.”

  “Are we dining here tonight?”

  “Yes. Mabel, their cook, is one of the best. I think you’ll enjoy her creations.”

  “Only if we have a truly Cajun meal,” she said with a laugh. “Otherwise—” She turned at the den door to stare at Andrew and forgot what she was going to say.

  His clean scent, spicing the air, made her aware of his presence only inches from her. His handsome features erased everything from her mind but him and her together in a dim hallway.

  “Otherwise what?” Amusement laced his voice while his gray eyes shimmered with laughter.

  “Otherwise I might just have to insist on you taking me to Antoine’s tonight.”

  “Without reservations on a Saturday night?”

  “Don’t you know somebody with pull?”

  “Afraid not.”

  Sadie exaggerated a pout. “And all the way down here I couldn’t get Cajun food out of my mind. I swear the minute I landed I thought I smelled seafood gumbo.”

  His chuckle slid over her as though they had been friends for years. “You’re in luck. Mabel loves to impress guests with her Cajun cooking.”

  “I knew this would be my lucky day. One of my wishes has come true.”