needed her job—desperately. At the moment, it was all she had.
“Excuse me, sir?” She pushed open the door.
R. J. Maitland, bent over his desk, didn’t even look up.
“I’ve brought your breakfast,” Sara tried again.
He continued to scribble something across the page in front of him.
Not knowing what else to do, and fretting about the customers and tips she was missing back at the diner, Sara tiptoed forward, placed the container on his desk.
“Thank you.” The words were slightly muffled, aimed as they were toward the desk.
“You’re welcome,” she said automatically.
She left the room as quickly as she’d come, pretty sure that R. J. Maitland didn’t even know she’d been there. For all the attention he’d paid her, he’d probably thought she was his secretary—the woman who delivered his food to his desk on a fairly regular basis, from what Sara had heard.
Hey, for all she knew, maybe she’d been a secretary, too. Maybe she knew all about delivering take-out cartons of food to a boss without disturbing him.
Still on the second floor, which housed the administrative offices, Sara heard a baby cry and stopped, her heart almost beating out of her chest. She leaned against the wall, hoping no one was coming, telling herself she’d be okay and trying to breathe. She heard it—the baby was still crying. And suddenly, so was Sara.
What was the matter with her?
Trembling, she clung to the wall for support, reaching deep inside herself for whatever well of strength had seen her through the last couple of weeks.
“Sara?”
The voice was familiar. Friendly. Ellie.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be.” She straightened, smiled at Ellie, wiped away her tears. She’d liked the serious-minded woman when they’d met the other day. She’d felt safe when Ellie was near.
“You sure?” Ellie asked, her eyes filled with compassion, and more. There was a quiet strength about Ellie Maitland that made Sara feel as though she could rely on her for anything.
Even picking up the pieces of a broken life. If she asked Ellie to help her, Sara knew somehow that the other woman wouldn’t stop until she’d found Sara’s answers—no matter how long it took.
“I’m sure,” Sara said, finding a smile. She couldn’t ask someone as important as Ellie Maitland for help. But it sure felt good to know that the woman was close by, if Sara ever reached the point where she couldn’t carry on another day. The thought gave her strength.
“We could sit for a minute if you’d like, or I can call a nurse.”
Shaking her head, Sara felt her strength returning. “I’m fine, really,” she insisted, anxious now to get back to her customers. Her tips. “It was just weird there for a minute. I heard a baby cry and I just—I don’t know, I lost it for a second.”
Frowning, Ellie studied her. “Were you maybe remembering something?”
The possibility had crossed her mind. The feeling had been so strong, so devastating. “Nothing but a feeling, if I was,” she said.
A feeling she was petrified to trace. What awful things were lurking in the darkness of her locked-up mind?
“I guess I better get back to the diner,” she said, before Ellie could pursue the conversation.
“If you ever need to talk, my office is right down the hall.”
Though she couldn’t imagine taking Ellie up on the offer, Sara was warmed by it just the same.
“DA-EE, UP!”
“No, Alisha, I’m changing Ariel,” Sloan explained to the toddler tugging on the leg of his jeans.
“Da-ee up!” Alisha demanded a second time, her voice starting to tremble and gain volume both at the same time.
“Alisha, Daddy’s changing Ariel,” he said, trying to reason with her. “I can’t pick you up right now.”
Keeping both of his hands firmly on the baby squirming on the change table, Sloan spared a quick glance for the little girl clutching his leg with pasty fingers.
“Da-ee, up!” Alisha wailed.
Sloan picked her up.
“You ever gonna learn to stick to your guns?” Charlie asked from the doorway of Ariel’s room.
Damn. Sloan hadn’t known Charlie had arrived yet that morning. It was humiliating having the older man see him make such a mess of things.
“I stick to my guns on the things that matter,” Sloan said. He just couldn’t think of what mattered that much at the moment.
So here he was, one daughter sucking her thumb in his ear, the other rolling over, half dressed, on the table in front of him, and his housekeeper shaking his head as if Sloan were the biggest loser on the face of the earth.
Unwilling to have Charlie witness the uproar if he attempted to finish dressing Ariel, Sloan picked up the diaper-clad infant and pretended that he’d meant to take one half-naked daughter to breakfast. At least Ariel was halfway ready. Alisha was still in her pajamas, having thrown such a fit when Sloan had laid her down to change her that he’d decided to give it a rest and tackle Ariel first.
He was saved from further admonitions when the phone rang, and Charlie went to answer it. He hoped whoever it was would keep his housekeeper busy for half an hour at least. It was going to take Sloan that long to convince his darling daughters to sit in their high chairs for breakfast.
“It’s for you—I’ll take them,” Charlie said, back in the doorway.
Sloan would have argued, but he knew better. As he handed the girls over, he also knew that he could be on the phone five minutes and return to find Charlie with both girls dressed, strapped in high chairs and happily eating Cheerios.
“Sloan Cassidy here,” he said, picking up the phone in the office, oddly ashamed at the relief he felt now that he’d escaped to his haven.
“It’s Ellie.”
His heart dropped. And then sped up double-time. In all his life, he suddenly realized, there’d never been any time he’d felt happier than during those hours he’d spent with Ellie in high school. “I’m glad you called,” he said. It was the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m not agreeing to anything, Sloan, so don’t run with this or anything, but what exactly did you have in mind when you asked for my help?”
Don’t run with it. He silently repeated her warning, but it was no good. He was dashing all over the countryside. “There are times when I need to go places with the girls and could sure use a companion to help with double car seats, double spilled food, double tears,” he said, thinking
