too. And she was so off good-looking, successful men it wasn’t even funny.
The child leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “He’s been really depressed lately. Almost clinical. Don’t tell him I mentioned it, but I thought you should know. It’s the whole thing with that Dallas Businessman of the Year Award and the pressure of success. Being discerning as I am, I can tell. It’s such a trial for him to deal with a genius child and run a multi-million dollar operation. So, if I can just find a mommy to keep me under control and out of his hair while he works, I’m sure he’ll be better.”
Kelsey stared at the child and then at the father, coming toward them like a stealth bomber, fast and furious, sleek and dangerous. It really irked her that this bright child thought she was a bother to her father. How unfair, and what a jerk he must be to make her feel that way.
“Daddy, come on over and meet my friend, Kelsey. She’s having a baby, and I’m interviewing her for the job.”
The man closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, hands on hips to catch his breath from what must have been a jog around the concourse.
“I apologize for my daughter, Miss—” When she only stared instead of filling in the blank, he finished with “—Kelsey. I’m Ryan Storm.”
His name sent a shock wave through her. Ryan Storm? Ohmigosh. It couldn’t be. But a second look through squinted eyes confirmed it. It was him. Ryan Storm, backstreet boy of Bartlett High turned Wall Street wonder, all grown up and looking good. Real good.
He didn’t know it, but she’d once had a crush on him, most likely because he’d been so unsuitable for a goody-two-shoes who never broke the rules.
She’d always had lousy taste in men.
“You’ve already met my errant child, Mariah, who will likely be the death of me.” He took the little girl by the hand. Mariah beamed up at him with unabashed adoration. “I’m sorry if she was bothering you.”
“She’s actually very entertaining.” And you should have known where she was.
“That’s one word for it.”
Mariah at his side, he slid into the chair next to Kelsey, bringing with him the scent of a very recognizable and equally expensive men’s cologne. How could he smell good after so long in an airport? She probably smelled like dirty gym socks.
“Where you headed, Kelsey?” he asked, as if she wanted to have this conversation.
“Nowhere.”
He looked surprised at the empty answer, and she winced. Shouldn’t let her hopelessness stick out for everyone to see. The last thing she wanted was pity. She had enough of that for herself.
“Actually, I’m going to Dallas.” She cast a doubtful eye at the huge observation windows. Sleet continued to ping against the panes. “Someday.”
He grinned, and darn if he wasn’t even better looking. She flat out hated him. “I know what you mean. We’re going to Dallas, too.”
She knew that. Everyone who could read knew Ryan Storm lived in, worked in and practically owned Dallas. Ryan Storm, businessman of the year, entrepreneur, most eligible bachelor. All the things she didn’t like in a man.
Well, actually there was one more thing she didn’t like in a man. Deceit. Mark had been so good at keeping her in the dark. And none of that was Ryan Storm’s fault or his daughter’s. It was her own fault for being so gullible, for wanting to believe.
The man of the year had turned to look at her during the conversation and suddenly his eyes narrowed. “I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but you look familiar. Have we met?”
She almost laughed. Did he realize how insulting that was? Not only did he not recognize her, he wanted to be sure she didn’t mistake his question for interest in her as a woman. Like anyone would be interested in a pregnant cow who hadn’t had a shower and shampoo since night before last.
“Bartlett High, Dallas east side, Mrs. Rutger’s history class. Although you slept through most of it.”
A flicker of recognition dawned behind an intense brown gaze. His mouth dropped open and he raised one finger in a struggle to remember her name. “Kelsey…Kelsey…” He snapped his fingers. “Kelsey Slater, boy hater.”
The old nickname made Kelsey laugh. She hadn’t really hated boys, but with braces, glasses and freckles, the oft-repeated comment served as ego protection. Guys liked her. They just didn’t date her. The butterfly hadn’t exited her cocoon until after high school. Contacts, straight teeth and the right makeup had done a world of wonders.
“It’s Kelsey Mason now, but how did you remember that silly nickname?”
Expensive fabric whispered as Ryan lifted one wide shoulder. “A mind that never shuts off.”
“You mean the way it did while your daughter was running around the airport alone?” She widened her eyes in horror. Had she really said that?
“Pardon?”
Apparently she had, and the man of the year hadn’t taken it too well. “Never mind. None of my business.”
Braces may have fixed her teeth but nothing had corrected her habit of saying what she thought. Sometimes her big mouth got her in trouble.
Mariah, who had been patiently taking in the conversation, tugged on her father’s sleeve. “Daddy, please. You’re interrupting our interview.”
Ryan dragged his offended gaze from Kelsey to his daughter. “Sorry, peanut, but I don’t think Kelsey would be interested in the position.”
“But I think she might be the one, Daddy, although we haven’t yet discussed credentions or salary.”
“Credentials,” he corrected.
Mariah nodded. Her curls bounced on the shoulder of a dark green jumper. “You can ask her about that.”
“I don’t think so. Married ladies usually aren’t seeking nanny positions.” He indicated Kelsey’s left hand. “See? She has a wedding ring.”
Boy, was he observant!
“Oh.” The child looked betrayed as she spoke to Kelsey. “You didn’t tell me you were married.”
Kelsey twisted the ring, wondering why she bothered to wear it. For the baby, she supposed. Certainly not for any residual attachment to Mark. “I’m a widow. My husband died.”
Saying the words aloud seemed as unreal now as they had a few months ago. Mark was dead, his body lost in a horrible explosion that sunk the extravagant yacht he was sailing to a buyer in Greece. She felt both horrified and guilty. Horrified that it happened. Guilty to feel so little grief.
Her expression must have shown the stress of the last few months, because Mariah’s little hand took hers. “Don’t be sad, Kelsey. Daddy and I will make you feel better. You can come to our house and have hot chocolate and graham crackers in bed.” The bouncy curls swirled toward Ryan. “Can’t she, Daddy? We’ll make her feel better and she can look after me while
