her ash-blond chignon to her exquisitely made-up face to her expensive French manicure. With disdain, she examined Hattie’s disheveled blond hair, discount store khaki skirt and pink cotton blouse. Even without the drool marks at the shoulder, the outfit wasn’t going to win any fashion awards. It was hard to maintain a neat appearance when the little one grabbed handfuls of hair at regular intervals.
Hattie’s legs felt like spaghetti. The stoic security guard in the lobby had insisted that she park her stroller before entering the elevator. Seven-month-old Deedee weighed a ton, and Hattie was scared and exhausted, at the end of her rope. The last six weeks had been hell.
She took a deep breath. “Either you let me see Mr. Cavallo, or I’m going to pitch the biggest hissy fit Atlanta has seen since Scarlett O’Hara swished her skirts through the red Georgia dust.” Hattie’s chin trembled right at the end, but she refused to let this supercilious woman defeat her.
Scary lady blinked. Just once, but it was enough to let Hattie know that the balance of power had shifted. The other woman stood up with a pained sigh. “Wait here.” She disappeared down a hallway.
Hattie nuzzled the baby’s sweet-smelling head with its little tufts of golden hair. “Don’t worry, my love. I won’t let anyone take you, I swear.” Deedee smiled, revealing her two new bottom teeth, her only teeth. She was starting to babble nonsense syllables, and Hattie fell more in love with her every day.
The wait seemed like an eternity, but when Luc’s assistant finally returned, the clock on the wall showed that less than five minutes had elapsed. The woman was definitely disgruntled. “Mr. Cavallo will see you now. But he’s a very busy man, and he has many other important commitments this morning.”
Hattie resisted the childish urge to stick out her tongue at the woman’s back as they traversed the hallway carpeted in thick, crimson plush. At the second doorway, the woman paused. “You may go in.” The words nearly stuck in ice woman’s throat, you could tell.
Hattie took a deep breath, no longer concentrating on her would-be nemesis. She kissed the baby’s cheek for luck. “Showtime, kiddo.” With far more confidence than she felt, she knocked briefly, opened the door and stepped into the room.
* * *
Luc ran a multimillion-dollar business. He was accustomed to dealing with crises on a daily basis. The ability to think on his feet was a gift he’d honed in the fires of corporate America.
So he wasn’t easily thrown off balance. But when Hattie Parker appeared in his office, the first time he’d seen her in over a decade, his heart lodged in his throat, his muscles tensed and he momentarily forgot how to breathe.
She was as beautiful now as she had been at twenty. Sun-kissed porcelain skin, dark brown eyes that held hints of amber. And legs that went on forever. Her silky blond hair barely brushed her shoulders, much shorter than he remembered. He kept the width of his broad mahogany desk between them. It seemed safer that way.
As he struggled with shock, he was stunned to realize the woman he had once loved was holding an infant. Jealousy stabbed sharp and deep. Damn. Hattie was a mother. Which meant there was a man somewhere in the picture.
The sick feeling in his gut stunned him. He’d moved on a long, long time ago. So why was his chest tight and his pulse jumping like a jackrabbit?
He remained standing, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Hello, Hattie.” He was proud of the even timbre of his voice.
“Hello, Luc.”
She was visibly nervous. He indicated the chair closest to him and motioned for her to sit. For a brief moment, Luc caught a glimpse of sexy legs as Hattie’s skirt rode up her thighs. The baby clung to her neck, and Hattie wriggled in the chair until she was modestly covered.
He examined her face, deliberately letting the silence accumulate in tense layers. Hattie Parker was the girl next door, a natural, appealing beauty who didn’t need enhancement. Even dressed as she was in fairly unflattering garments, she would stand out in a room full of lovely women.
At one time, she had been his whole world.
And it irked him that the memories still stung. “Why are you here, Hattie? The last time we had sex was a lifetime ago. Surely you’re not going to try and convince me that baby is mine.”
The mockery and sarcasm made her pale. He felt the pinch of remorse, but a guy needed to wield what weapons he could. The man he was today would not be vulnerable. Not ever again.
She cleared her throat. “I need your help.”
He lifted a brow. “I’d have thought I would be the last person on your go-to list.”
“To be honest, you were. But it’s serious, Luc. I’m in big trouble.”
He rocked on his heels. “What’s her name?”
The non sequitur made Hattie frown. “This is Deedee.”
Luc studied the baby. He didn’t see much of Hattie in the child. Maybe the kid took after her dad.
Luc leaned over and punched the intercom. “Marilyn…can you come in here, please?”
It was a toss-up as to which of the two women was more horrified when Luc phrased his next request. When Marilyn appeared, he motioned to the baby. “Will you please take the little one for a few minutes? Her name is Deedee. Ms. Parker and I need to have a serious conversation, and I don’t have much time.”
Hattie wanted to protest, he could tell. But she reluctantly handed the baby over to Luc’s assistant. “Here’s a bottle. She’s getting hungry. And you’ll need this bib and burp cloth. You don’t want to let her ruin your nice suit.”
Luc knew his assistant would be fine. She might be a cold fish, but she was relentlessly efficient.
When the door closed, Luc sat down in his leather office chair. It had been specially ordered to fit his long, lanky frame. He steepled his hands under his chin and leaned back. “So spill it, Hattie. What’s going on in your life to make you seek me out? As I recall, it was you who dumped me and not the other way around.”
She flushed and twisted her hands in her lap. “I don’t think we need to go there. That was a long time ago.”
He shrugged. “All right then. We’ll concentrate on the present. Why are you here?”
When she bit her lip, he shifted in his chair uneasily. Why in God’s name did he still have such vivid memories of kissing that bow-shaped mouth? Running his hands through that silky, wavy hair. Touching every inch of her soft, warm skin. He swallowed hard.
Hattie met his gaze hesitantly. “Do you remember my older sister, Angela?”
He frowned. “Barely. As I recall, the two of you didn’t get along.”
“We grew closer after our parents died.”
“I didn’t know, Hattie. I’m sorry.”
For a moment, tears made her eyes shiny, but she blinked them back. “Thank you. My father died a few years after I graduated. Lung cancer. He was a two-pack-a-day man and it caught up with him.”
“And
