Cassidy's Kids. Tara Taylor Quinn

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knew you’d forgotten, and I had to drive by that way, anyway,” Ellie replied. Focusing on something as mundane as the laundry helped a bit. But only until she looked down again.

      Staring at the newspaper in front of her, at yet another article subtly hinting that Eleanor Maitland might not be up to her recently appointed position as administrator at Maitland Maternity Clinic, Ellie had to concentrate to keep the words from blurring. She was losing it. Twenty-five years old and falling apart.

      “Ignore them, Ellie.” The soft feminine voice was laced with the steely determination that had seen Megan Maitland through her own lifetime of disappointments and joys.

      Grasping the business section of the large Texas newspaper between cold fingers, Ellie finally looked up from the hurtful words. “They’re like vultures, Mom, waiting for me to fail.”

      “So?” Megan’s dark blue eyes didn’t waver as they met the troubled look of her second-youngest-by-eleven-minutes daughter.

      “They think I only got this job because I’m your daughter.”

      “So?”

      “Is it true?” Ellie asked, bracing herself.

      Beth, her twin, scoffed.

      “What do you think?” Megan’s expression was shrewd.

      “I have goals, Mom. And a clear sense of our mission.”

      Megan nodded and smiled. “I know.”

      “No one else would have hired me so young for a position of such stature.”

      “Probably not.”

      “And certainly not while I’m still a semester away from my master’s degree.”

      “You’re going to night school. You’ll have your degree before the fiscal year ends.”

      Ellie flushed under her mother’s loving gaze. No matter how often Ellie fell short of being everything a Maitland should be, Megan continued to love her. “I won’t let you down,” she whispered, afraid she was really going to make a fool of herself and cry.

      Ellie never cried. At least not where anyone in her family could see.

      “I know you won’t,” Megan said.

      And that had been that. Ellie, the ugly duckling baby Maitland, might not feel she was an asset to the family, but they were generous enough to love her anyway. And she had just enough Maitland blood running through her veins to make certain that she didn’t let them down. At least not professionally.

      Which was why, sitting at her desk later that morning, she refused to back down when the man who serviced their current piping system tried to convince her not to invest in a new, upgraded one. Maitland Maternity, the clinic founded by her mother and late father almost twenty-five years ago, had outgrown its present system, and Ellie would not put the clinic’s patients—or reputation—at risk.

      Once the man had left, she turned back to the financial statements Drake Logan, Maitland’s VP of finance, had left her.

      “Ellie—?”

      At the sound of the voice she froze. She’d been wrong. Things could get worse.

      “—I’m sorry to barge in, but the phone just seemed so cold after all this time.”

      Heart pounding, Ellie stared at the handsome man standing in her doorway. He wasn’t supposed to just show up at her office. He wasn’t supposed to show up at all. She’d gotten over him years ago. Wasn’t ever going to have to see him again.

      “I can’t believe you’re here.” It was the only thought she had.

      Forcing herself, she rose, offered her hand, pretended that warm touch of his calloused fingers did nothing to her.

      The only plausible reason she could come up with for his sudden appearance was that he and his wife, Marla, needed the clinic’s services.

      “You look great!” he said, admiration in his voice and in the steady brown gaze that was taking in every inch of her.

      “So do you.” Gorgeous. Incredible. And in her office. Damn him.

      “You’re the boss now, huh?” he asked. He looked around her big office, but only briefly, then his eyes focused back on her.

      Nodding, Ellie started to sweat. Seeing him after all this time couldn’t mean anything to her. He couldn’t mean anything to her.

      “I knew you’d make it to the top quicker than anyone,” he said, his voice full of easy camaraderie.

      “Why are you here?” she blurted, feeling the need to get rid of him before she made a fool of herself and hugged him or something. Maybe he’d forgotten their last, devastating conversation, but she hadn’t. It had shaped every day of her life since.

      “I need a favor.”

      His voice was sexier than she remembered it. Deeper. “What’s it been, ten years?” she asked, trying to smile in spite of the tension. He actually thought that he could waltz in after all this time, and she’d be waiting to do his bidding.

      Not that she could blame him completely. Practically every girl in their high school—Ellie included—had done just that. Sloan was definitely one of God’s gifts to the world’s female population, though one with a cruel twist when it had come to Ellie.

      “’Bout that,” he said. He didn’t appear to be the least bit contrite about the ten year lapse, though age seemed to have taken the edge off his supreme self-confidence. “I’ve wanted to stop in many times, Ellie, to see you.”

      “So why didn’t you?”

      “I figured it was best just to leave well enough alone.”

      Which was just about the best non-answer she’d ever heard.

      “Until now,” she reminded him.

      He shrugged. “I’m in trouble, and you’re the only one I know of who can help.”

      She wasn’t going to be party to his and Marla’s family problems. No matter how nicely he asked.

      Leaning forward, resting her thighs against her desk, Ellie crossed her arms over her chest. “So how’ve you been?” she asked, and then made herself continue, “How’s Marla?”

      “I wouldn’t know.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “She’s in New York.”

      She hadn’t heard about that. But then, lately she’d been concerned about the problems in her own family.

      “What’s she doing in New York?” Is she still your wife?

      “Trying to act, last I heard.” His eyes continued to assess her. “We were divorced six months ago.”

      Ellie sat down. Hard. Sloan was divorced. No one had told her.

      “Y-you

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