enough to set herself and Jake up anywhere else. She sat back in her chair, letting her fears rise up until they nearly choked her. When the light on line 2 went out, she shivered. Vance had finished speaking to Security. What was next? Would she be arrested? Fired?
“Gran, I really wish you were still here. I’d run home so fast …”
And just whispering those words made her ashamed. Running away wasn’t the answer and she knew it. She had to face this. Tell Vance the truth and hope to heaven he believed her when she swore she would never sell out Waverly’s.
Oh, God.
Fear still jumped in the pit of her stomach, but somehow, it was easier knowing that at least she’d made a decision. She knew what she had to do. All she needed was the courage to get it done. Because she knew that once she told him about her past, about where she’d come from, he wouldn’t want anything more to do with her. And oh, she would miss him. But first—
She buzzed his office and waited for his gruff reply. “Yes?”
“Vance, I’m taking a break. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
“Sure. Fine.”
He sounded as stern and unyielding as he ever had and she wondered again how a man as ruthless as he was in business could be so different when it was just the two of them. She headed out of the office for the elevator. Before she spoke to Vance, she needed a few minutes with her son.
When she got to the fourth floor, Jake was sleeping.
Charlie slipped into the nap room, walked up to the only occupied crib and stared down at her son. Curled up on his side, Jake had one fist pressed to his mouth and the other curled into his soft, brown hair. His sock-clad feet were drawn up tight and his tiny sighs arrowed straight into her heart.
Scooping him up, Charlie cradled him against her and patted his back until he settled again. She sat in one of the rocking chairs in the shadowy half light and looked down at him through tear-filled eyes. She and her baby boy were alone in the darkened room and his warmth eased some of the chill snaking through her. Smoothing one hand over his hair, Charlie bent close enough to kiss his forehead.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she whispered. “I tried, really. I wanted to give you so much and now I don’t know what to do.”
The baby slept on and Charlie relished the solid, warm weight of him close to her heart. No matter what else was wrong with her life, she had Jake. And she wouldn’t let him down. She would give him a safe, warm world to grow up in.
“I’ll fix it somehow, baby boy. Everything is going to be all right.” Was she trying to soothe her son or reassure herself? She didn’t know and wasn’t sure it mattered.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and she let them fall. Here in the dark, who would see?
“Why’re you crying?”
She stopped rocking, lifted her gaze to the doorway and met Vance Waverly’s steady stare. He was tall, gorgeous and, right now, she could see that his eyes, even in the shadows, were glinting with carefully banked fury.
“It’s nothing,” she said, because what else could she possibly say?
“You’re sitting by yourself, holding your sleeping son in the dark and crying. That’s not nothing.” He pushed away from the doorjamb and locked his gaze on her. Even in the shadows, she felt the power of that cool stare. “I have to know something. Are you a spy, Charlie?”
“I’m not a spy,” she said, patting her son’s behind gently, keeping her voice as quiet as she could. Her tears still rained down her face and as Vance entered the room, she tried wiping them away.
Here it was then. She wasn’t going to get the opportunity to confess. To go to him and tell him everything. Instead, he’d found her out and now he was looking at her as if he didn’t know her at all. But then, she thought sadly, he really didn’t.
He squatted down in front of her and locked his gaze with hers. “What’s going on, Charlie? What is it you’re trying so hard not to tell me?”
“Believe it or not, I was going to tell you,” she said softly as Jake murmured in his sleep. “I just needed to see my son first. Sort of center myself, then I was coming to you.”
Vance nodded. “I do believe you. But I’m here now. So talk to me.”
Still meeting his angry eyes, she shook her head. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about you put Jake back in his bed and you and I take a walk?”
She took a breath and let it out on a heavy sigh. The time for stalling was over. And oddly, the heavy ball in the pit of her stomach that had been her constant companion for almost two weeks was already dissolving. Living with lies wasn’t easy. Telling the truth wouldn’t be easy, either. But at least she’d be able to breathe again.
Charlie stood up, settled Jake back down again, then turned to look up at Vance. Lifting her chin, she whispered, “It’s a long story.”
He took her to the park. Central Park on a bright summer day was filled with locals and tourists and was far enough away from Waverly’s that whatever they said would stay between them. They stayed clear of the lakes and the swimming pool, skirted the carousel and the zoo. He bought them each a bottle of water from a waffle vendor, then steered her toward a wooden bench beside a walking path through the trees.
Vance sat down beside her on the bench beneath an ancient willow. The tree’s branches hung low, its feathery leaves grudgingly waving in the desultory breeze. The scent of flowers and burned coffee from a nearby food cart filled the air as they sat in the dappled shade.
Of course, Vance had followed her when she’d left her desk to take that “break.” Angry and suspicious, he’d felt like a third-rate private detective, slinking along in her wake as she made her way through Waverly’s. He’d had no idea what he might discover, but he certainly hadn’t expected to find her crying over her sleeping son. As her boss, he was wary, suspicious. As the man who … cared for her, he was worried.
“Start talking,” he said, when she made no move to say anything. “I want it all, Charlie.”
She laughed shortly, broke the seal on her water bottle and took a long drink. When she had neatly screwed the cap back on, she lifted her gaze and looked out over the park. Two women pushing strollers laughed and chatted. A young man threw a Frisbee for a golden retriever and somewhere in the distance, a siren sounded.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” she admitted, crossing her legs demurely.
“Then start with this.” He waited until she looked at him. “Were you the one trying to access Waverly records this morning?”
Her pale blue eyes went wide in shock. “Oh, God.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he muttered darkly and took a drink of his own water. “Security told me that the IT department had found someone hacking into the records. I really hoped it wasn’t you.”
Dammit. He would have been willing to bet money that she was innocent. He didn’t like feeling as though he’d been played. Was she that good an actress? Could she really
