The Baby Consultant. Anne Marie Winston
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“Hardly.” Jack’s voice dropped to a lower pitch. “You’ve had a great effect on her. And on me.”
Butterflies rose in a flurry of sensation in her stomach. Doggone it. He was the worst flirt she’d ever met. Mentally she kicked herself for succumbing to his charm, if only for a moment, and willed herself to ignore the mad beating of butterfly wings. “Well, thanks for stopping by. It was nice to see you both. I hope the adjustment period continues to go as smoothly.”
In the act of resettling Alexa in her little sack, Jack paused. “Um, Frannie?”
For a moment she’d swear a look of...almost guilt, she supposed, crossed his face. Then it was gone, and he was affable, incredibly attractive Jack again. “I really have to get back to work now,” she told him.
“I know. This will only take a minute. I have something I’d like you to think about.”
Think? He wanted her to think? I think seeing you again, even in a chance meeting, is a really bad idea, she told him silently. He could make her forget too much, offer too much—
“I need to find someone to baby-sit for Alexa while I work. Would you consider keeping her?”
“Would I...?” It took a moment to sink in. Frost swept through her, and the butterflies died in the chill, becoming a dead weight in her stomach. Outrage rose. There was little she disliked more than men who used their charm to wheedle women into doing them “a favor.” She felt like she’d hopped onto a carousel horse that kept bringing her around to the same old point again and again. Did she have a sign stamped on her forehead that read Nursemaid or Housekeeper?
It was a struggle to keep her expression blank. “Who’s keeping her now?” she asked carefully. Beneath the surface, anger began to consume her, boiling higher and higher every second.
“I’ve been taking her to work with me,” he said. “Between Marlene and me—she’s my secretary—we’ve been managing, but it’s just too hectic. She really needs to be with someone who has more time for her.”
“So what makes you think I have the time?”
There was a bite in her voice now, and Jack looked cautious, as if he’d wandered into the middle of a minefield and was trying desperately to pick his way out intact. He looked around and spread his hands to indicate her shop. “I just—this is attached to your home, isn’t it? You sew, which doesn’t require dealing with people constantly, and you’re fantastic with her—I know you love children.”
She dug both hands into her hair to keep from putting them around his thick neck. “Yes, Jack, this is attached to my home. Do you know why? Because during the big bridal season, I’m too busy to even take time to drive to work and back.” Her voice rose. “And just how do you suppose I make clothing that fits my clients?”
“I don’t—”
“I have people wandering in and out of here all day long for fittings and design sessions and fabric consultations. I have customers scheduled right up until eight o’clock tonight. Come here.”
She turned and marched to the back of the shop and pushed through the doors into the fitting and sewing room, seeing it through Jack’s eyes as he followed her.
A three-way mirror with a platform in front for viewing clothing was mounted at one end of the room. One wall was filled with shelving on which were sewing supplies, dozens of different fabrics, bridal magazines and accessories. Hats, veils, shoes, hosiery, frilly white parasols and clever little beaded purses filled shelves to overflow. The wall opposite the mirror was one enormous closet. When the doors were folded back as they were now, more than fifty dresses in various stages of completion could be seen hanging. Against the fourth wall were three sewing machines. Directly behind them was an enormous, custom-designed worktable on which April was pinning a pattern to a swath of satin. Two ironing boards stood beside it Everything was neat and tidy, but it was clear this was a busy place to be.
“Does this look like I have time to baby-sit?” she demanded, turning back to Jack.
Behind her, April said, “Hi, I’m April. Are you Roses-Jack?”
“That’s me,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, April. Do me a favor and tell the coroner I died from having large quantities of roses stuffed down my throat.”
April laughed, clearly delighted, and Frannie thought bitterly that he could get most women to do just about anything. Too bad for him, she wasn’t most women. Anymore.
“April, take a break. Go drink a soda, take a walk, go in the house and watch a soap opera,” Frannie told her.
April’s eyes rounded. “Yes, ma’am.” She laid down her shears and exited the workroom through Frannie’s private door.
“Look, Frannie, I’m sorry,” Jack said.
“No, you’re not.” Her voice was hard. “You might be sorry you weren’t able to sweet-talk me into keeping your baby, but you’re not sorry you tried to con me into the job. Do you realize how shallow you seem? You’ve spent your whole life using your charm to get women to do your bidding, haven’t you? I bet ninety percent of your clientele is female, because they’re easier for you to manipulate than other men.”
“You’d lose the bet.” His voice was as chilly as hers was heated.
“You never expected me to refuse, did you? You just assumed that because I loved your baby—and yes, I admit I’m wild about children—I’d be happy to help you out once you batted your eyes at me and smiled.” She held open one of the doors leading to the shop out front. “Too bad for you I’ve met charmers before. As a breed, you’re distinctly unimpressive. Now, if you’ll leave, I have work to do.”
Jack’s face was grim. He hesitated for a moment, and Frannie was shaken by the black fire in his eyes. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”
He moved toward the door, and again she was struck by how graceful he was for a big man. As he reached her, she stepped back so he could pass, but he paused, forcing her to look up to meet his eye. And even though she knew he was deliberately using his size to intimidate her, she quailed inwardly. She only hoped it didn’t show, and she lifted her chin higher in defiance.
“You’re wrong about me, but you were right about one thing. I’m not sorry I tried to con you into keeping Alexa. My biggest concern is finding someone who will love her as much as I do. I knew she’d be safe—and loved—with you.”
He turned and brushed through the doors, and her whole body sagged as the angry electricity in the air went with him.
She absolutely could not stand him. She should be pleased with herself that she had stood up to him. Instead, his final words echoed in her ears, making her feel small and mean—and guilty.
The rat. He probably knew exactly what he was saying, and how it would affect her.
The match was tied, 3 to 3. As he sprinted down the lacrosse field, one eye on the lacrosse ball, Jack caught his attention wandering away from the game. It wandered toward the same place