The Boss and the Baby

by Leigh Michaels

  “Cut out the sarcasm, Molly. It’s nothing personal.”

  “Oh, now that makes me feel much better.” Pure puzzlement crept in alongside her frustration. “Though if you actually didn’t intend to insult me, I don’t quite see why you even wanted a private conversation.”

  “I certainly didn’t intend any insult. I was going to start by telling you the job was yours, but before I could say a word you got up and started to stamp out.”

  Molly thought about it for a moment and conceded that he might have a point. Still... “You couldn’t have told me the job was mine with your father in the room? If that was all you had to say—”

  Luke shook his head. “I wanted to make sure you understand what’s really going on here, and I could hardly explain in front of my father that you’ll actually be working for me, not for him.”

  “Now that sounds interesting.” Her head was spinning, her knees shaking, and she welcomed the excuse to sit down. “So what have you got in mind? And how do you propose to keep him from finding out you’ve stolen his employee?”

  This time Luke settled on the edge of the chair, not the arm. At least, Molly thought, he wasn’t looming over her at the moment, but the set of his jaw was threatening nonetheless.

  “I’m not stealing anybody. I just have an extra set of job requirements that I don’t want my father to know about.”

  “Oh, this I can’t wait to hear,” Molly muttered.

  Luke leaned forward, elbows on knees and hands clasped. “After my father’s stroke,” he said, “he lost interest in things. Almost everything, in fact, except the past, which he talked about endlessly and morbidly until it seemed he was retreating into his memories altogether.”

  Molly frowned. “Then why are you encouraging him to think about the plant’s history? He said this project was your idea.”

  “Oh, it’s my idea, all right.” Luke sounded almost grim. “You might even call this a last-ditch effort to focus him onto something positive. If he wants to dwell on the past, fine—I give up. But there’s a difference between just pondering it over and over and finding ways to use that history to help the company in the future.”

  “The difference between looking back and looking forward.”

  There was a gleam in his eyes that might have been appreciation. Or more likely, Molly thought irritably, it was surprise that she’d actually understood.

  “And you want me to help manipulate him,” she went on.

  “So far, it seems to be working. Today is the first time in weeks he’s been in the office.”

  So that’s why he was waiting for me with nothing better to do than read the newspaper, Molly thought. “I’m sure his reluctance to hang around Meditronics has nothing to do with your sunny presence and the fact that you’ve taken over his job since he got sick.” She looked around the room. “In fact, is this office his or yours these days?”

  “Mine.” Luke’s voice was stiff.

  “No wonder he’s been staying home.”

  “Look, Molly, he may have left you with the impression that I came charging in here two minutes after his stroke, riding my big white horse and determined to take over Meditronics—but the fact is I’ve been here for well over a year. I was already running things long before he got sick. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t still involved. He’s chairman of the board. He came to work every day. So when he stopped expressing opinions—or even having them, it seemed—of course I started to get worried.”

  “So the medical career didn’t work out, after all,” Molly mused.

  “It’s not a bad background for selling equipment to hospitals. But about my father—let’s get this clear right now, Molly. The only thing that’s important about this book idea is that Warren believes in it.”

  “And you’re not really hiring me to help with the book, but to reawaken his interest in life.”

  “Something like that. You can start tomorrow. We’ll find you an office down the hall.”

  “And if I’m successful,” she mused, “just as soon as your father starts being more interested in Meditronics’ future than its past, I suppose you’ll cut the whole project loose and I’m out of a job, just like that.” She shook her head. “You know, it may not have been very wise of you to tell me this, after all.”

  “Pull that miracle off, and I’ll pay you for a book you don’t even have to finish. I might even add a nice bonus.”

  Molly rested her chin on her tented fingertips and considered. “The bonus is a nice touch. Of course, all I have to do is tell your father what you’re up to—”

  “You said,” he reminded, “that you need this job.”

  He didn’t miss a trick, did he? “True enough. Throw in a good recommendation for me to every business you come into contact with, and you’re on.”

  Luke countered, “The most I’ll promise is an honest letter of introduction. And as for recommendations, I’ll give you one right now—if you’re headed for another business appointment, you might want to wipe the smudge off your face.”

  Before she could stop herself, Molly’s hand flew to cover the bruise on her jaw. Laugh it off, she ordered herself. Tell him the somersault story.

  But she couldn’t force the words out. Instead, she said lamely, “It’s nothing.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he tipped his head as if to study her more closely.

  Molly picked up her portfolio and started toward the outer office. “I’ll settle for your promise of a letter of introduction, Luke, but only because it will end up being the same thing as a recommendation, anyway.”

  “Will it?” He opened the door for her. “I certainly hope you’re right.”

  Luke closed the office door behind Molly and settled into the deep leather chair behind his desk. He’d done all he could. Now it was simply a matter of waiting to see whether the treatment would be effective. If anybody could needle a man out of a state of apathy, he thought it would be Molly Matthews. He’d seen more liveliness in his father’s eyes today than there’d been in months—and she’d certainly had Luke in the mood to wring her dainty little neck. So the medical career didn’t work out after all.... He was half-surprised she hadn’t asked if the problem was that he fainted at the sight of blood.

  But she knew her job now, and he supposed she’d set about it in her unique way. One thing was certain—there was no point in giving any more thought to Molly Matthews in the meantime.

  He pulled a stack of correspondence from the in basket, turned on the mini cassette recorder he used for dictation and leaned back to consider his answers.

  But the tape spun uselessly, for his favorite thinking position, with his elbow propped on the arm of the black leather chair and his jaw leaning against his hand, reminded him of the discoloration on Molly’s face.

  It’s nothing, she had said. But she’d given herself away by touching it like that. If it had been only a smudge, she wouldn’t have known where it was.

  Somebody had socked her in the jaw.

  And it’s none of your business who or why, Luke reminded himself. He’d hired her for a purpose, not for old times’ sake. She was no longer the annoying kid whom he’d rescued now and then from treetops, undertows or merciless teasing. She was no longer the coltish adolescent whose pitifully adoring green eyes had made him so uncomfortable. She was no longer the naive girl who had tearfully insisted she would love him forever, no matter what....

  In the last five years, Luke thought, Molly Matthews’s body might have acquired soft curves in all the right places, but the rest of her had honed down to a knife’s edge. She’d lost her illusions, all right.

  A fist in the face will do that to you. Especially if it happens regularly.

  Some women, he told himself, were hard to figure out.

  Molly would have given anything to be able to drive past her parents’ house and head north, up the old scenic highway toward Two Harbors. She longed for the freedom to drive until she’d left all her frustrations behind. Or perhaps she
’d pull off the road and walk on the pebbly beach and listen to the lake until the timeless rhythm of the waves washed her tension away.

  But she’d been gone much longer than she’d expected, and she didn’t dare take extra advantage of her mother. Just because Alix had offered to baby-sit today didn’t mean she ever would again.

  Another thing for the list tomorrow, Molly thought. Now that she had her first client, she’d have to line up steady day care. And thanks to Luke, she was going to need more of it than she’d expected. She’d hoped to do most of her work at home, where she could keep one eye on Bailey. In fact, with access to the right archives, she could design and produce Warren Hudson’s book almost anywhere. But if he wasn’t involved on a daily basis, she could hardly spark his interests in once more taking up his real job—and that meant hanging around Meditronics a whole lot more than she’d planned on.

  Obviously, by the time this was done she’d be able to put that bonus Luke had mentioned to good use. If she earned it.

  But how hard could that be? She’d bet anything Warren Hudson was already starting to come out of his shell. With or without her—or the book, either, for that matter—she suspected he’d be plunging into the mainstream within a few weeks. Even without the bonus, Luke was paying good money for nothing.

  And he can afford to, she told herself. So don’t feel sorry for him. He offered this deal, you didn’t twist his arm.

  Besides, he wouldn’t be getting nothing, anyway. No matter what, he’d end up with something out of the deal—even if it was only a book of company history that he didn’t want.

  And considering the way he’d looked at her just before he’d offered her the job—like a man with a toothache facing the dentist’s drill, knowing it was both unpleasant and unavoidable—Molly thought that was about what he deserved.

  Alix was in the kitchen, chopping something that looked suspiciously like chicory. She looked up when Molly came in. “I’m making Chicken Crecy,” she said. “I hope Bailey will eat it.”

  Molly hoped so, too. The dish smelled wonderful to her, but with a three-year-old one never quite knew. “Well, it’s making me hungry, so if she doesn’t like it she has no taste at all. Is she asleep?”

  “No, your father came home and took her up to Knife River to hunt for agates.” Alix’s tone left no doubt as to her feelings about Bernie’s choice of pastime.

  “I don’t suppose Megan went along.” Molly’s voice was droll. Megan in a white cashmere sweater, hunting agates on the beach, was the most unlikely picture she could think of.

  “Of course not. She and Rand are going to a dinner party tonight.”

  In the four days Molly had been home, this must be the third party she’d heard about. She wondered when Megan and Rand ever had time to talk to each other. On the drive to the parties, perhaps? “Can I help with anything, Mom?”

  “No, it’s all done. Did you get the contract?”

  Molly nodded. “It’s not quite what I expected, though—it’s going to be more like a regular job. I’d hoped to be able to bring a lot of the work home, but it looks like I’ll be spending more time at Meditronics than I’d bargained for.” She hung her jacket over the back of a chair and started to rinse the few dishes Alix had left in the sink. “So I’ll have to start looking for day care tomorrow.”

  Alix frowned. “If that’s a hint that I should volunteer to keep Bailey every day—”

  Molly’s hand clenched on the scrubbing brush, and her voice was taut. “Of course it wasn’t, Mother. You’re doing so much for me already, how could I possibly expect any more?”

  A booming voice from the back door said, “Don’t be hasty about this, Alix.” Bernie Matthews ducked through the doorway with Bailey perched on his shoulders, dipping just far enough so her head cleared the top of the casing.

  The child giggled and clutched at his hair. “Do it again, Grampa!”

  Bernie obliged. “She’s the only granddaughter you’ve got, Alix. Now that you’ve got the chance to know her, grab it—or else don’t be surprised, when she’s old enough to interest you, that she doesn’t want to come and visit.”

  Molly saw the irritation in her mother’s eyes and intervened. “She’s right, Dad. It’s too much to expect her to do. And I’d better start looking, anyway. It’ll get even tougher to find day care when the school year ends and everybody’s scrambling to get kids settled for the summer.”

  “I don’t want to go to day care.” Bailey sounded mutinous.

  “You know, Molly, I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Bernie mused. “Taking care of a child is awfully hard work.”

  Molly opened her mouth to point out that wasn’t quite what she’d said.

  “Of course you haven’t thought of it that way,” Alix snapped. “You take her out on the beach and let someone else clean up the mess!”

  Bernie winked at Molly. “And Alix has been starting to slow down and lose some of the pep she had when she was young.”

  Alix’s eyes flared. “Bern, if you’re implying that I’m getting old—”

  “If you’re not, why are we celebrating thirty years of marriage the end of this month?”

  “Because Megan thought we shouldn’t let the occasion go by without a party.”

  Bernie snorted. “Megan considers a broken fingernail a good enough reason for a party. Hey, maybe she’d look after Bailey once in a while. Even if she’s not ever going to settle down and have kids of her own, she ought to get a taste of what parenting’s all about.” He swung Bailey off his shoulders. “You’d behave yourself for Aunt Megan, wouldn’t you, punkin?”

  Bailey shook her head. “I’m not a punkin, Grampa.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I thought for a second you meant you wouldn’t be good. Show your mother your agates.”

  Bailey held out a fist and slowly unfurled her fingers. She’d clutched the dozen tiny red-orange stones so tightly they’d left indentations in her palm. “I like going to the lake. Aren’t they pretty, Mommy?”

  “Indeed they are, dear. Let’s go put them with your collection and wash all that sand off you before dinner.”

  Bailey had never liked having her face washed. It would be a lot easier, Molly thought, to just put her in the tub and start from scratch. But Alix wouldn’t like to keep dinner waiting.

  She handed Bailey a sliver of soap so the child’s hands would be occupied while she tried to restore some order to her hair. One ponytail had disintegrated altogether, leaving a pink bow hanging by a couple of curls, and the other had slid so far it looked more like a cowlick.

  Bernie poked his head around the edge of the door. “I got sent to wash up, too.”

  Bailey generously handed over her soap.

  Molly gave up on the ponytails and settled for combing the tangles out of Bailey’s long, fine hair. “Dad, I know you were trying to help, but please don’t make Mom feel guilty if she doesn’t want to keep Bailey every day. It wouldn’t be good for either of them if she feels she’s stuck with the job.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. A little guilt now and then’s a good thing. But Meditronics has a day-care center right down the street from the administration building.”

  That would be absolutely ideal, Molly told herself. And yet...

  “And if you start taking Bailey there every day,” her father said slyly, “I’ll bet before long your mother will be pouting and begging to keep her.”

  Reluctantly, Molly smiled. “Reverse psychology? I won’t hold my breath. But if you can come up with as good a plan to get her to quit talking about this divorce business—”

  Bernie shook his head. “I think that one’s beyond me, sweetheart.” He dried his hands, patted Bailey’s cheek and headed toward the dining room.

  “Mommy.” Bailey smoothed the suds over her hands till it looked as if she was wearing white gloves. “What’s divorced?”

  At least she didn’t ask my mother, Molly thought. “It’s what happens when two people decide not to be married any mo
re.”

  Bailey held out her hands to study the effect. “Is that what happened to you and my daddy?”

  “Something like that, Bailey. Rinse the soap off now and we’ll have dinner—and we’ll talk about it later, all right?”

  Bailey’s lower lip crept out. Molly wasn’t sure if the objection was to postponing the conversation or giving up her soap. At the moment, she didn’t want to know.

  Luke hadn’t specified a time for her to come to work the next day, so Molly took her best guess and planned to be in the office by nine. She was almost on her way out of the house when Bailey realized belatedly that she was being left and began to shriek. It took Molly the better part of half an hour to get the child settled down enough to leave her.

  By then Alix was tapping her foot and looking impatient, and Molly was not only feeling frazzled, she was longing to point out to her mother that there was an enormous difference between a three-year-old throwing a pure and simple temper tantrum and one who was genuinely miserable at being left behind. Obviously, she wasn’t going to have the luxury of even a day to look around for someone to care for Bailey. If there was a spot in the Meditronics facility, she’d better grab it. At least with Bailey just down the street Molly could pop in from time to time.

  She was only beginning to breathe freely again when she walked into the main office, but when the secretary who had greeted her the day before looked up with a smile, Molly relaxed.

  “Good morning,” the secretary said. “I’ve set up an office for you next door to the conference room, just around that corner. Mr. Luke had some things sent over from the warehouse, but if there’s anything special you need—”

  “Now that you mention it,” Molly began.

  The door of the inner office opened and Luke appeared, carrying an open file folder. He laid it on the secretary’s desk and, eyes narrowed, studied Molly. “Quite a knack you have—showing up just in time to clock out for lunch.”