by Anthology
“I know you can. And I’m sure your mommy and daddy knew what a well-behaved young lady you really are. Thing is, sprout, you still need to prove it to me. If today goes well, then we can see about relaxing some of those strict rules your aunt put on you at home.”
“She’s not my aunt,” Renee insisted. Still, she took his hand and let him help her out of the cart. She beat at his shoulder for a moment before reaching freedom.
“I think you need to trust her a little more,” Harlan said to Olympia.
“Maybe it’s you I should trust, eh?”
“I think so, as I’m only here to help.”
She turned her attention to him, nibbling the inside of her lip as she was prone to do when she thought hard about something. Or someone. “Fine,” she replied at last, stepping back. “We’ll try it your way. Maybe I’m way too overprotective and I have no idea what I’m doing. At least she’s quieting down.” Which was true. The moment Renee’s feet touched the floor, the sobs hitched to a low whine, her gaze focused on the colorful pillows. “Do you have her?”
Harlan reached down to take the child’s hand. “Absolutely. You keep the cart and we’ll see what kind of shopping trouble we can get into.”
Olympia shot him a look that said she wasn’t surprised. “Spend the last of my savings?”
“It’s worth it if Renee can be comfortable in her room,” he teased.
“Oh, sure. I’d forgotten that one pink princess pillow can mean the difference between happiness and misery.”
His brows lifted in surprise. This was the first time she had teased him without going straight for sarcasm first. “You know, exercise is important too.”
“For her or for me?”
“Both. Me too. I’ve been getting a little pudgy around the midsection. Chasing after her might do me some good.” He used his free hand to squeeze the bit of extra flesh below his belly button.
“Maybe if you wouldn’t eat an entire bag of white cheddar popcorn every night, then you wouldn’t have to worry about pudge.” She laughed when he turned wide eyes in her direction. “What? You didn’t think I would notice? There’s always a new empty bag in my trash can. I’ve seen proof of your dirty little secret, mister.”
“It’s out in the open. What can I do?” Harlan stared balefully at the ceiling before Renee tugged on his arm, determined to drag him halfway across the store in seconds. Olympia followed them to a display of a fully-made child’s bed with a diamond-patterned sheet set.
“Work on exercising your self-control, maybe,” she teased.
“I can’t. I’ve tried, especially by making healthier food choices for my clients. But I’m afraid it’s too late for me. When I think about popcorn, or a burger with thick slices of cheese and crispy bacon and sliced tomatoes…” He trailed off, his mouth watering. “When I’m by myself, I get into the habit of eating right out of the pan or over the kitchen sink. Sometimes hot food just shoved in your mouth can taste way better than if it’s on a plate.”
“I worry about you,” she said, quirking a brow.
“Why?”
“What kind of bad habits are you teaching the baby when I’m not around?”
He smiled down at Renee. “Oh, I recognize that I’m a bad influence. At least I try to watch myself when I’m around children. It’s like I have no option. I have to make a good choice or else. You like these sheets, Renee? Think they would look nice on your bed?”
Her normally pouty bow-shaped lips were now a straight line, and the gesture reminded him inexplicably of Olympia. “Yes.” She was decisive. “I want these for my bedroom.”
“Then we’ll get them.” Olympia grabbed a set for a twin-size mattress, along with the matching comforter.
They continued on through the aisles, weaving among fairytale colors of pink and blue and white. It was a child’s wonderland and the more time they spent together, the easier it was to relax.
“How long have you lived in New York?” he wanted to know, shifting closer until he felt the heat of her.
“All my life,” she answered. “I grew up in the house I own now. After my parents died, I took over the mortgage and in a couple of years it will be mine free and clear.”
“You were how old?” he asked, helping Renee up to choose a curtain set. “When they passed?”
Olympia turned her back to him. “Around twenty-two, I suppose. Old enough to be able to support myself, young enough to feel the loss without realizing the implications. The responsibility that was thrust on my shoulders. They were really great people.” Her smile was effortless. “I miss them every day. It seems like my life is a study in loss.”
“What about the nice lady next door? The one who’s come over a few times with treats? Mrs…” Harlan snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name.
“Mrs. Nunez. She’s adopted me. Unofficially, of course. She has her own children to worry about. They’re down in Maryland, not nearly close enough for her. Or me. I know she wishes they were closer.”
It made him sad to hear that. She had no family outside of Renee, the niece she’d never met until tragic circumstances threw the two of them together. Now they were alone. Harlan had such a massive immediate family as well as involved extended family. He wished he could share them with her. Maybe she would like to borrow them for major holidays? It had to get lonely, Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s, cooking for one and celebrating alone.
“Why don’t you tell me more about your brothers and sisters,” she offered instead. Clearly uncomfortable talking about herself. “I always enjoy your stories. They’re entertaining.”
Okay, so she would rather talk about him. It was fine because unlike most men, he wouldn’t become easily distracted when the conversation turned to him. The more he got her to feel comfortable, the more she opened up, the easier it would be to have an honest dialogue where she didn’t turn the attention away from herself.
It was give and take, he knew, and had experienced it firsthand growing up with his sisters.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I played hooky from school, stole my mother’s car keys, and took the family station wagon out for a joy ride in the middle of the afternoon?” he supplied with a grin.
Olympia smiled in response, and he noted that her eyes were shadowed with fatigue, her expression wan. “No, you did not.”
Concern rose. “You look exhausted. Why don’t we call it a day and go home so you can rest for a few minutes?”
“No, I’m fine. Although I’m pretty sure we’re done here. Renee can’t possibly—” She cut off, glancing around. “Renee?”
Then Harlan noticed his hand was empty. Where had she— “Oh, God.” He swung in a circle and saw no sign of her. “Renee!”
Olympia reached out and smacked him on the shoulder, her gaze panicked. “I told you this would happen!”
“I’m sorry, okay? I had my eyes on her. She was just here.”
“And now she’s not. Holy hell, she’s gone. What are we going to do? Where is she? Renee!”
“She has to be around here somewhere.” His heart beat frantically in his ears and he took off at a sprint, running up and down the aisles.
“Renee!” Olympia had ditched the cart and was right behind him. They searched the displays, the racks of clothing, anywhere a tiny four-year-old might hide. “Where can she be?”
He hated swinging around to see Olympia on the verge of tears. “Try to breathe. In and out—”
“Don’t tell me how to breathe,” she snapped. “I’m breathing.” She opened her mouth to let loose what was sure to be a dazzling curse on his stupidity when her phone rang. Instinct had her reaching to answer it, still jogging up and down the aisles in search of the missing girl. “Hello?”
Harlan focused his attention on the floor. Getting down on his hands and knees without hesitation, he crawled through the nearest clothing display in search of those little leather shoes. “Renee? It’s Harlan. Please come out from wherever you’re hiding.
You’re making your Auntie Oly and me very worried. You need to let us know where you are right now, sweetheart. Come on. Be a good girl.”
Fighting to calm his own breathing under the crushing weight of panic, he made out a slight giggle to his left. He changed directions but stayed on the floor. Calm down, Harlan. She’ll know if you’re freaking. It’s like some animals. They can smell fear. “Renee? I know you’re hiding here! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
The giggle sounded again and he knew he was headed in the right direction. There was no reason to be worried, he tried to tell his mind. This was an attention tactic he’d seen a dozen times.
“I’m getting called in to work,” came Olympia’s harried half-laugh, half-growl. “Can you believe this? There’s some emergency with the sheetrock and they need me to come back in. It isn’t even my project. It’s Carl’s secret gobbledygook.” Then came more spooked giggles. “I told him not to take this on so close to the gallery opening. I told him, but he didn’t listen to me. Just like you, you didn’t listen to me either. What am I going to do?”
“Calm down.” This time Harlan spoke to Olympia. His eyes were focused on the slightly shifting curtains nearest the cart. They were back at the home wares department, so she hadn’t gone off so very far after all. He bet, if he moved quietly enough, he could surprise Renee and she wouldn’t have time to hide again.
“How can I calm down?” This one was a screech.
“Because we are going to solve this together.”
“No, Harlan, we are not going to solve this together. There is no together. What am I going to do?”
He watched her sink down to the floor on her knees. “You’re going to head in to work because I know how important it is for you, and I am going to stay here until I find our little runaway.”
“How can you be so calm? You know I can’t leave you here to find her alone. And I’m sure as hell not going to let you drive her home. You don’t have the car seat.”
“I have a spare car seat in my trunk from my last job. Trust me, Olympia, we have this covered. You go on and pay for what’s in the cart and get your butt to work.”
“This is ridi—”
“You’re going to have to trust me sooner or later,” he urged.
Then he leaped forward on a pounce, grabbing hold of a pair of cute little legs, which brought a squeal of delight.
“Gotcha!”
In the next moment, the curtains shifted aside to reveal a pair of amused brown eyes and a cherubic smile.
“Like I said,” he told Olympia as his smile widened, “I’ve got this covered.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“I want you to come home with me,” Harlan stated.
Olympia glanced up at him with a scowl at being interrupted. Her response could go one of two ways. She could call him out on what was surely a double entendre—he was full of them—or she could play innocent and have the benefit of watching him stumble to explain himself. He was adorable when he fumbled over his words.
Decisions, decisions.
She set the papers aside after circling the reminder to finalize Renee’s adoption in her planner and pushed her glasses higher before giving him an answer. “Come home with you…why? What do you want to do to me?” she asked innocently.
“Oh, I…um—”
He cleared his throat and Olympia kept her chuckle to herself. Harlan really was cute when he got flustered. It was easy getting him there, too, because for all his easygoing ways and down to earth optimism, he sometimes didn’t know how to respond to her. His confusion in that matter was one of her only sources of amusement these days, keeping her from tearing her hair out, or bonding with her bed for twelve hours straight. She was afraid if she went down that road with her bed, there was no coming out.
They were a good four weeks into their working relationship. Sure, things were getting a little better at home, and sure, Renee was sleeping through the night more often than not, but it was still hard. Dealing with Harlan and his not-so-subtle flirting made it easier to swallow. Sometimes. When she was in the mood.
Did that make her a bad person? She wasn’t sure anymore.
“I think it would be good for you and Renee to get out of the house a little. My family is crazy. I guarantee you will both be welcomed with open arms. And you might even have a good time. If you let yourself.”
“You just don’t want to cook dinner, do you?” she needled him. “You’ve done enough cooking for the week and now you’re trying to pawn me off on someone else. I assure you, I have some frozen meals. I’ll be fine popping one in the microwave.”
“It’s meatloaf night.” At once Harlan was like a little boy. He bent down in front of her with his eyes pleading, his hands creeping up her legs toward her knees. “No one makes meatloaf like my mother. She is a culinary goddess.”
“Then how is it you didn’t decide to be a chef, Mr. Anderson?” She didn’t take her hand away when his fell on hers, even when she knew she should.
“Because I realized from an early age there are certain duties of which mothers and sisters and wives excel while I am only adequate, and I decided to focus my attention on better avenues.”
Olympia didn’t remember her mother’s cooking. Not much, at least. There were vague and hazy memories of a plump woman tending a stovetop when she was younger, and the scent of baking cookies in the air. Later in life, her mother hadn’t wanted to do much cooking, preferring to eat out.
She still had a few of the old recipes. The only thing she lacked was the motivation. Maybe she should give them a try.
“You might be right,” she hedged. “Mrs. Nunez, my surrogate mom? She takes it upon herself to cook for me sometimes. Me and half the neighborhood. She’s always sending over plates of freshly made tamales.” Olympia felt her mouth water. “But this doesn’t mean I have time to get Renee ready and spend a night with your parents. That seems a little weird. Don’t you think?”
“I’ll make a deal with you, then, since I know you hate having people do something for you without giving something in return.” Harlan stood and dragged her to her feet with him. “One mother’s cooking for another. We invite Mrs. Nunez over here next week. You come with me tonight. It’s a simple deal, one you don’t have to read into.”
Olympia found herself ready to agree. Then stopped. How easy it was to get into the we routine again. We’ll do this and we’ll do that and we like ice cream with our apple pie. She needed to remember the other half of her we died years ago. No matter how exciting the fantasy of Harlan stepping into those shoes might be—when entertained in the darkest parts of the night—she wasn’t in a position to indulge it. Or him. He was too different, and she was too busy.
“Why don’t we ask Renee what she wants to do? Although I have a lot of stuff to take care of here.” She gestured to the computer on her coffee table and the twenty emails she had yet to respond to that needed answers.
Then again, what kind of mom did she want Renee to see her being? The kind who didn’t make time for engaging activities? The kind who indulged in microwaved tamales instead of trying to cook on her own? The kind who didn’t want to have an adventure or push her boundaries?
Olympia swallowed. The kind of mom who hired a male nanny to make soup for them because she was too busy to do it herself.
“Never mind,” she said, interrupting Harlan before he had a chance to turn away and call for the baby. “We’ll come.”
His face split open in a smile. “You’re serious? You’ll come?”
In answer to his enthusiasm, Olympia kept her reaction to a minimum. “Sure.” She smoothed a hand down the front of her shirt to deal with any wrinkles. “Why not? It will be a good experience for Renee and you don’t have to cook.”
“Great. I already told Mom you were coming.”
She paused as his words sank in. “You what?”
A half hour later, they were bundled in Harlan’s car and driving the twenty minutes he said it would take to rea
ch his family home.
“Now you’re sure you didn’t want me to drive?” Olympia checked for the thousandth time. “I mean, if you’re tired—”
“I’m positive. Thank you for trusting me enough with the both of you.” He spared a smile for Renee in the rearview mirror. She sang and bobbed her head in time with the tunes on the radio.
“It’s not trust. It’s exhaustion. I’m not fighting as much as I normally would be.”
“Either way, I’m grateful. You are going to love my family. And they are going to love you.”
“How many of your old clients have you taken over for dinner?” she wanted to know.
“A few. Most of them were a bit freaked out by how loud we are, I’ll be honest. My mother is Italian and we can get a little…rambunctious sometimes. I’m giving you fair warning.”
She knotted her hands on her lap and tried not to think about the mountain of work waiting for her at home. She’d had several artists pull out of the show at the last minute, stating scheduling complications, and Ashleigh—gleefully—told her they didn’t have enough people on the waitlist to fill the empty spots. It was one of the many what-can-go-wrong-will-go-wrong mishaps she’d had to deal with that week. Including but not limited to a broken sprinkler system, Carl’s sheetrock project going over budget, workers who didn’t want to come in to work on time, and a missing painting. One no one could seem to tell her where it had been placed.
The last thing she needed to do was take a few hours to go to Harlan’s parents’ house.
Then they pulled in the driveway.
She shot him a brave smile when he braked to a halt. Her stomach decided to do a half flip with a twist at the end. “I’m ready.”
“Funny. You saying that tells me you are definitely not ready. I promise you’ll enjoy yourself. You won’t have to do a thing tonight, just let us take care of everything. And there’s a pool in the backyard—”
“No.” Olympia bent to remove Renee from her car seat. Her stomach did a second half gainer at the thought of leaving her four-year-old anywhere near water. Renee clutched at her, still singing. “Whatever it is you’re going to say, don’t say it. I do not want her going anywhere near the pool. I don’t even know if she knows how to swim.”
