it could be that’s simply the way I feel,” he murmured, wondering how rude it would be to just turn and walk away from Cindy. He wanted to spend more time with Sam.
Cindy laughed. “So you say. You’ve made billions with your business. Still—” she studied him for a moment “—I’m telling you, women would be interested even if you were flat broke. Something about your eyes, I think.”
“I doubt it.”
“So did Teresa want a ring on her finger?” Peter asked.
“Apparently. She didn’t take to heart my telling her that I wasn’t marriage material. Why is it when a man’s honest and up-front, women try to change his mind? She’s beautiful, but she’s not someone I want to grow old with.”
Chris was the woman he’d always thought he’d grow old with. No one could take her place. But the past couldn’t be changed. The aneurysm had caught everyone by surprise. She’d been far too young to die. But much as he’d railed against fate, she had not lived to enjoy the fruits of their labor—or their son.
His goal now was to make a difference, for himself and Tommy. His business provided employment to more than a hundred people. He contributed lavishly to several charities, including the Children’s League. Not bad for a poor kid from Savannah.
He glanced at his watch. How long did a woman need? The champagne in her glass would be warm by the time she drank it.
“Who’s your date?” Peter asked.
“I just met her tonight,” Mac said.
“A blind date? Oh, my,” Cindy said with a laugh. “Imagine that.”
“Imagine,” he said dryly. He felt no obligation to explain anything to Cindy.
“Come along, darling, the music is starting again and I want to dance,” Cindy said with an air kiss for Mac. “Good luck with your blind date.”
As the minutes ticked by, Mac began to suspect Sam wasn’t returning. He idly watched the dancing. Glancing around caused a waiter to appear with another glass of champagne. How the Children’s League made money when they spent so lavishly on the ball was beyond him. But he knew donations poured in for this charity.
He looked at the table. Sam’s ticket lay near the center. Was she unable to return because she didn’t have it with her? He reached for it and rose. It wouldn’t hurt to check to see if she was trying to convince one of the men at the door she was supposed to be here.
No sign of her when he entered the lobby. Those that had been checking tickets were no longer there. Maybe once the dinner finished, it didn’t matter as much if anyone crashed the party.
He positioned himself where he could see the restroom doors and waited. After fifteen minutes he knew Sam wasn’t coming back.
He debated returning to the ball but decided he’d made an appearance, supported the charity with money. Kissed in the New Year. He could go home.
His housekeeper of several years was leaving in the morning and his little boy knew no other mother figure. Mac needed to be there for Tommy. There were two agencies searching for the right live-in housekeeper/nanny and he hoped they found someone soon. Mac didn’t want his son to grow attached to Alice Horton, who started on Monday, only to break the tie with her when a more permanent arrangement could be found.
Mrs. Horton was not the solution, but a temporary fix. She had been a nanny for decades and, while sounding a bit strict, she came with impeccable references. He hoped Tommy would accept her until a new housekeeper could be found.
It was still raining when Mac gave the valet attendant his parking ticket. A good night to be home.
Or with an interesting woman who seemed dazzled by the ball yet content to simply enjoy it without flirting every moment or making sultry and suggestive comments as Teresa would have done. Samantha—Sam had made no moves on him after his impulsive kiss at midnight. Yet she’d returned his kiss with passion.
Getting behind the wheel, Mac was surprised to realize he’d enjoyed the evening. He’d gone out of duty and ended up having a good time—no, more than a good time. Sam intrigued him. That was a first. Since Chris’s death, he’d made up his mind to remain single and focus on raising his son, and a chance encounter at a dance wouldn’t change that. But he couldn’t help thinking about Sam as he drove home. Her hair had gleamed in the light, artfully arranged and feminine. For a moment he wondered what she looked like with it in disarray, swirling around her face. Her cheeks had been tinged with color—natural, not cosmetic. But it was her chocolate-brown eyes he remembered the most. They showed her emotions, and twice he was convinced he’d seen awareness in them, as if for a few seconds she saw him as a desirable man.
Her lips had been sweet and her kiss memorable. Mac realized it had been a while since he’d felt anything when kissing someone. Teresa was beautiful, but cool and detached. Dating her had not changed his mind about wanting a new life partner. He doubted anything would.
Still, a few evenings spent together didn’t mean a lifetime commitment.
Only—Sam had left with no way for him to contact her. Had it been deliberate? Had he misread the signs? He would have sworn she had enjoyed herself.
Yet she’d waited until he was occupied with Peter and Cindy and then cut out. If she’d felt any connection between them, wouldn’t she have made sure he knew how to contact her?
As he pulled into his driveway, the full situation hit him. He wouldn’t be going out for quite a while—not until he had a live-in nanny who would be home with Tommy. Until then, Mac had to be home each evening by six, the time Alice Horton left per their agreement when he hired her because Mrs. Horton taught an adult education class and had to be at her school by seven Monday through Thursdays.
Just as well. Dating had not played a big part of his life since Chris died and he liked spending time with his son.
But it would take a while to forget that kiss with Sam. He had tried to move on after grieving for Chris, only no one had come close to replacing her in his life. Sam was nothing like his wife, yet he could almost taste her on his lips. He remembered the warmth that had crashed through him when she’d returned the kiss. Another one or two of those wouldn’t hurt. It would prove he was still living and capable of moving forward. Chris would have wanted that.
“So, how was it?” Charlene asked as soon as Sam entered the kitchen the next morning.
Sam smiled at her sister and went to pour herself some hot coffee. She’d slept later than normal because it had taken a long time to fall asleep after her magical evening. Thankfully today was a holiday, or she’d be a zombie at work. Home before one, it was actually after three before she stopped reliving every precious memory of Mac McAlheny.
“It was fabulous, how else?” she replied, turning and leaning against the counter. She glanced down at her bunny slippers, a fun Christmas offering from her sister. She sighed softly. She was much more a bunny-slipper kind of gal than elegant socialite.
“For one evening I felt like Cinderella,” she said slowly.
“You looked so marvelous,” her sister said.
“You told me that before I left,” Sam commented, grinning. She had felt marvelous. “The
