As he left Brian’s office a short time later, after a discussion about the colleges Christina was considering, he stopped short. A young man who appeared to be about Lisa’s age was escorting her through the double glass doors. He looked like a biker with his shaggy hair, leather jacket, pierced brow, earrings and boots. Then Alan noticed Lisa. She’d changed, all right—into a long-sleeved black sweater that molded to her breasts and hugged her waist, and low-slung black jeans with a belt studded with rhinestones. She also carried a leather jacket over one arm, and her boots were similar to the young man’s.
Seeing the two of them together made Alan feel every one of his thirty-eight years. In spite of that, he acknowledged what he’d felt that morning when Lisa Sanders had barred his way and stood up to him. He’d had the overwhelming urge to kiss her.
If that wasn’t an insane fantasy, he didn’t know what was. But he was not going to let his imagination take on a life of its own. He was not going to think about Lisa Sanders again, except as Brian’s office manager who would be assisting them on this project.
End of story.
After locking the door to the unisex bathroom at Summers Development, Lisa pulled her sweater over her head so she could change back into her business suit. The upside-down mermaid tattoo on her left arm practically winked at her. The peace sign tattoo high on her other wrist also reminded her she was trying to leave her past behind. No one here knew about her tattoos except Brian, of course. She always kept them covered. They really weren’t befitting an up-and-coming professional.
As if it were calling to her again, she reached for the note in her jeans pocket. Opening it, she read, “You owe me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She’d almost told Craig about it. After all, they’d been friends when she’d returned to Portland, pregnant. Back then, after she’d had Timothy, she’d even thought they might connect romantically. But they never really had. Craig was two years older than she was, protective and they’d settled into a friendship that was valuable and she hoped lasting.
The note looked as if it had been generated by computer on plain white paper. When she was homeless and living on the streets, she’d met some shady characters. She’d met pimps who wanted her to turn tricks for them. She’d met drug dealers and avoided them, but not before they checked her over, trying to figure what she could do for them.
And then there was Thad, Timothy’s biological father. He’d wanted nothing to do with her and the baby because he’d had his own plans. How could the note be from him, when he’d signed away his parental rights?
Just as she had.
The difference was, she was still connected to Timothy and always would be. Some nights her heart ached unbearably because of the decision she’d made. But she’d known it was best for Timothy then, and she believed it was best for him now.
What did this note mean, anyway? Was it a precursor to blackmail? Did someone think that, since she was connected to Brian and Carrie, she had money, too?
Folding the note, she slipped it into her purse. She’d have to think about it some more before she told anyone. Besides, what was there to tell? She was certainly not going to worry Brian and Carrie unnecessarily, not after everything they’d done for her. She was making a life on her own now and she wouldn’t depend on anyone else.
The locket around her neck swung free as she bent to remove her boots and then her jeans. In only her panties and bra, she opened the heart necklace and looked at the little face of the baby she’d given away, touched the silky lock of his hair.
“You’re happy where you are,” she said, her voice catching. “That’s all that matters. Carrie and Brian love you as if you were their very own.”
Standing up straight and squaring her shoulders, she quickly dressed in her suit and high heels, ran a comb through her hair, reapplied lipstick and gazed at the professional woman she was trying to become.
Alan Barrett’s tanned face with its firm jaw and crooked lines around his eyes seemed to gaze back at her. She blinked. Alan was years older than she was. He was Brian’s colleague. He was too handsome and he knew it. He was a little bit arrogant, determined and even authoritarian.
So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?
Because he’d looked at her with such concern after she’d opened the note? Or because when their eyes met, she felt rattled down to her spike heels?
She doubted very much if Alan Barrett would like a woman with tattoos.
She doubted if Alan Barrett would even consider getting involved with a woman who had given up her child.
Chapter Two
During a game of hide-and-seek that evening, Lisa spotted Timothy by the leg of the dining room table. “I see you!”
Giggling, he dashed under the table, where the white cloth partially hid him. After she crouched down, Lisa got to her hands and knees and went after him. As she caught him, he laughed.
“You can’t hide from me,” she warned him, tickling his tummy.
When Carrie spoke, Lisa could hardly hear her above their laughter. Releasing Timothy, she peered out from under the tablecloth.
Carrie was smiling, and she wasn’t alone. “Brian brought a friend home for dinner.”
As Lisa’s gaze traveled from boots, up expensive slacks to the Western-cut jacket, she practically groaned. The friend that Brian had brought home was Alan Barrett.
Minus his Stetson, he looked amused as he said, “I used to do that with my daughter. In some ways, it seems as if it were yesterday.”
Carrie explained, “Alan’s daughter will be leaving for college in the fall.”
He had a daughter. He was married. Lisa almost breathed a sigh of relief at that news.
Timothy chose that moment to scramble away from her and run to his mom, snagging Carrie by one leg. “Can I have a cookie, please?”
A beautiful woman and a former model, Carrie stooped and lifted Timothy into her arms. Her auburn hair hid her face until she absently brushed it away. “It’s almost bedtime. I suppose you can have a cookie if you have a glass of milk with it.”
One of those little pangs stabbed Lisa’s heart. Carrie had final say in everything Timothy did. She was a wonderful mom and Lisa couldn’t have found anyone better to be a mother to her son.
Crawling out from under the table, Lisa felt foolish. When she’d arrived at Carrie and Brian’s, she’d changed from her suit into the clothes she had worn to have lunch with Craig. Now she was rumpled after roughhousing with Timothy. She knew her hair was probably a mess and her lipstick nonexistent. Some professional image she was projecting to a man she’d be working with!
Ruffling Timothy’s hair, Brian said, “I’m going to check messages in my office.” After loosening his tie, he motioned to the top of the buffet and suggested to Alan, “Make yourself at home. Drinks are there. Lisa can tell you where anything is if you can’t find it.”
“Dinner will be ready as soon as I get
