looked at her for a moment, then walked back to his desk, gently swirling his drink in his glass. “You weren’t at all surprised when our marriage fell apart, were you?”
“Once I got to know you? No.”
“Know me?” Unaccountably irritated, Grant let his gaze drift back to the splotchy, puffy-eyed woman still quietly hiccupping in his favorite leather chair, one foot now tucked up underneath her backside. “How often have we been in the same room, Mia? A half-dozen times?”
“Often enough to confirm what I’d already suspected—that you and Justine weren’t a good fit. But let’s clear something up right now,” she said, her brow pinched. “I didn’t take some sadistic pleasure in your marriage breaking up. It wasn’t about me being right, it was about my best friend being happy. If she’d been able to find that happiness with you, I would have been the first person to toast the two of you on your fiftieth wedding anniversary. But how we feel about each other is neither here nor there.” Her expression softened. “The only thing that matters now is getting Haley through this.”
Grant eyed her steadily for a moment before silently setting the glass on the desk. Facing her once more, he folded his arms across his chest. “Haley talks about you a great deal.”
“We’re best buds,” she said quietly. “There’ve been nannies, of course. And Jus had her in preschool during the day. But the three of us would hang out…” Her voice broke; after a couple of deep breaths, she continued. “And I’d sit for her from time to time, when Jus had to work late.” At Grant’s frown, she rolled her eyes. “She was on the fast track to becoming partner, Grant, she couldn’t exactly clock out at five on the dot every night. As anyone struggling for purchase in a huge law firm knows all too well.” He thought he saw a slight shudder before she continued. “Although Jus did take work home with her as much as she could, to do after Haley was in bed. Your daughter wasn’t neglected, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Clearly,” he said softly, even as he thought, At least, not by her mother. “Still. That was a lot to ask of you.”
Mia’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t ask, I volunteered. I love kids and I’m crazy about the squirt. And the nannies…well. They came and went. Even if I didn’t see Haley that often, at least I was some sort of constant in her life. After her mother, I mean. And anyway—”
Grant noted her pointed exclusion of him from that equation.
“Considering everything Justine did for me…” Her eyes filled again, but she held up one hand, sucking in a steadying breath. “Babysitting was the least I could do to return the f-favor—”
At the wobbly last word, Grant plucked the box of tissues off the desk, but she shook her head. Then her words sank in. “What favor?”
“Okay, maybe ‘favor’ isn’t the right word. Support, then. When I walked out on my law career to start my party-planning business, not only was Jus one of the very few people who didn’t seem to think I’d lost it, she even got on the horn and called everybody she knew, lining up more work for me than I could have ever found on my own.” She almost laughed. “In some ways, she seemed more determined to see me succeed than I did. And then…”
“What?” he prompted when she hesitated.
Mia screwed up her mouth, as though trying to decide how much to say. “Around the time of your divorce, my fiancé broke up with me. You met him once, he was out here for dinner. Anyway, it was a few weeks before our wedding. I was a mess. But even though Jus was still dealing with the aftereffects of her own…stuff, there she was, literally and figuratively holding my hand through one of the worst periods of my life.”
Totally unaware that Grant’s drink had turned to vinegar in his stomach, Mia unfolded her legs, stretching the previously trapped foot in front of her and wiggling it. “She’d call or e-mail me to ask how I was doing, suggest we go shopping or to the movies, or go to the museum or zoo with Haley…ouch! Damn, my foot fell asleep!”
Leaning over to rub the prickles away, her long hair tumbled free over her shoulders, framing her much-less-swollen face with exuberant, shiny waves. A moment later, she lifted her eyes to his, only to frown. “Is something wrong?”
With a sharp shake of his head, Grant abruptly returned to the window, unable to look at that trusting, loyal face a moment longer. He’d known, of course, from the moment he’d answered her call, heard the concern in her voice, that somehow, amazingly, Justine had managed to keep her betrayal under wraps. Otherwise, he seriously doubted even someone as wide-eyed as Mia would have continued babysitting for her best friend’s daughter. Still, to hear it confirmed…
“For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, willing the words to quash the anger flaring inside him, “I didn’t marry Justine expecting it to fail. I may be a risk taker in my professional life, but I’ve always erred on the side of caution about all things personal. So when things fell apart, I was definitely…disappointed.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he heard behind him. Inhaling deeply, he spared her an almost-smile.
“No response necessary,” he said, then returned his attention outside. “I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do about me. From your standpoint, I made someone you cared about very unhappy. All I can say, in my own defense, is that it wasn’t intentional. Although I do shoulder the blame for believing that Justine more clearly understood what she was getting when she married me. That I’ve never been a fun-and-games kind of guy.”
“There’s an understatement,” he heard Mia mutter.
Grant turned, his mouth set, his gaze unwavering. Why he felt compelled to make this woman understand, he had no idea. Perhaps because Justine hadn’t understood. But Justine had been his wife. Mia was…
Mia was very likely the only person who could help him bridge the canyonesque gap between him and his daughter.
“I can’t help my nature, Mia. Even as a child, excessive shows of emotion made me cringe. However, I never promised Justine anything I couldn’t, and didn’t, deliver. That she still wanted more from me than I could give her…” He blew out a breath. “The marriage was a mistake. Or rather, the mistake was in my thinking I could somehow make a marriage work simply because getting married, starting a family, is what men my age, in my position, do.” He paused. “A mistake I won’t make again, believe me.”
“Yeah, well,” she said finally, getting up, hanging on to the back of the chair as she hobbled around it, “I could’ve told both of you that at the beginning and saved everyone a lot of grief.”
“Except then there wouldn’t be Haley.”
Her “oh, please” gaze slammed into his. Her eyes were a strange shade of green, he realized, almost an olive. “And wouldn’t that make your life a whole lot easier.”
At her direct hit, heat surged up his neck. Irritated—with himself, with her, with the whole damn mess—he turned to spare her the satisfaction of his discomfiture. “Hard as this may be to believe,” he said stiffly, “I do care about my daughter. About what happens to her. I always have. But I’ve never been comfortable around children.”
“Including your own.”
He hesitated, then said, “Especially my own. I seriously doubt we’ll ever have the same sort of relationship she had with
