the ceiling, it’s the sky, just a simple sky, a pale blue, maybe a rainbow on the far side, and clouds, puffy balls of white cotton suspended by fishing line from the ceiling. All about the kids. As if it was their world.”
She knew she’d gotten carried away, talking quickly, trying to make them see what she could see in her mind, and she was high on excitement. And pleasure that she could do this. That was the best part of all. She saw it, and she could make it happen. She’d never experienced anything like that before. She looked at Amy who was staring overhead.
“Oh, my, that’s wonderful,” Amy said softly, then glanced at Brittany. “I can see it, too. And it’s perfect. The center’s called Just for Kids and it truly would be. I love it.”
“You’ve done a lot of this sort of work?” Matt asked, cutting into her euphoria, and drawing her attention to where he stood with his arms folded on his chest. He wouldn’t let her do anything. As soon as he knew she was Brittany Lewis, he’d laugh her right out of here, and it would be over. And, when he found out who she was, that was the nicest outcome she could imagine.
“No, I haven’t, not really,” she said honestly.
Amy touched her on the arm. “If you’ve got the talent to make it happen, I don’t see what lack of experience has to do with anything. Maybe you’re just finding your gift in art. This could be it.”
It could be it. She wanted it to be it. “I can do it.”
“Maybe we could see your portfolio, Miss—” Amy smiled at her. “I still don’t know your name.”
She stared at Amy, but sensed Matt moving, coming closer to her, stirring the air, and she never said the words, “I’m Brittany Lewis, the spoiled-rotten daughter of Robert Lewis.”
No, she wasn’t going to admit that, not here, not now, and she wasn’t going to let this go, either. She could do it, please her father in the long run, and best of all, if it worked the way she thought it could, she’d prove that she was a viable, worthwhile person, instead of the brat Matt and Amy expected to appear with that name.
She felt an odd fluttering in her middle, and avoided the name thing. “My portfolio, it…” She couldn’t say it was at a chateau south of Paris. “I’m sorry, I forgot to bring it.”
“If you can do what you say you can do, I’d love to have you give us a proposal and I can look at your portfolio then. I need something to send to my boss. Something she can see so she knows where this is going. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one in the running for the job at this moment.”
“That’s great,” she said, feeling as if she’d just jumped over an incredible hurdle in her life. She’d been told she had art talent, but qualifications had always gone with the praise: if she could learn to apply herself…if she bothered to use it…if she ever decided what she wanted to do with it. Right then, she knew what she wanted to do. “When do you need it all?”
“As soon as possible. We’re in a bit of a time crunch, but if it’s a problem for you—”
“No, I’ll have something for you by tomorrow. Do I bring it here?”
“No, the workmen will be all over the place. Bring it up to the sixth floor. You’ll see colored doors with Just for Kids written on them. I’ll be in there.” There was a beeping sound, then Amy took a pager out of the pocket of her overalls. She glanced down at it to read the printout on the small LED screen. “Taylor’s awake.” She looked at Brittany. “My daughter. I need to get upstairs or she’ll pitch a fit.”
“Amy?” Matt said to get Amy’s attention before she took off. “I know how much this center means to Lindsey and Zane, but we’re still doing business here.”
“Of course. And we’re within budget, aren’t we?”
“That’s not it. It’s about that kid who was in here. You can’t let them run around without supervision. That little hoodlum that attacked me was probably the one who opened the door, and he was looking for trouble. He needs to be kept under lock and key.”
Amy shook her head. “He can’t be one of our kids. First of all, they’re always supervised, and secondly, the after-school kids are long gone. But I’ll check and if he’s one of ours, it won’t happen again.”
Matt nodded, then Amy turned to Brittany. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.” That smile came again. “And I still don’t know who you are.”
Brittany stared at Amy, and was startled when Matt spoke up. “You do have a name, don’t you?”
Brittany looked at Matt. “Of course I have a name,” she said and remembered something her father had told her many times over the years. “If you want something, you use whatever you need to make it happen.” She wanted this to happen, and she would do whatever it took to prove she wasn’t a spoiled brat. She’d do it and he wouldn’t have to know who she was for now.
“B. J. Smythe,” she said, putting together an old nickname with her mother’s maiden name. “And it’s Smythe, S-M-Y-T-H-E. Not Smith,” she added for good measure.
Chapter Three
“B. J. Smythe not Smith,” Matt said, and she blushed slightly, high color touching her delicate cheekbones. “I’ll remember that,” he murmured, and knew that he wouldn’t have any trouble remembering this woman on any level.
“Great to meet you, B.J.,” Amy said, then hurried toward the doors. She called, “Tomorrow,” over her shoulder, and was gone to get to her daughter.
“Shoot, that’s just great,” Matt heard B.J. mutter as she watched Amy leave.
“Excuse me?”
She shook her head and turned back to him. “Sorry. I just needed to talk to her some more, to get details.”
“Well, she’s long gone. When the children are involved, she’s single-minded, and when it’s her daughter, well…” It was his turn to shrug. “She’s got tunnel vision.”
“She sounds dedicated.”
“She really is. Actually, I hope that kid is one of hers so she can reign him in.”
“You don’t like kids?”
He shrugged at a question that came out of nowhere as far as he was concerned. “I don’t even think about them, until something like this happens.”
“I can’t say I’ve thought much about them, either, but I think you’re hardly being fair to that boy.”
That really came out of nowhere. “What?”
The suggestion of a frown tugged a fine line between her eyes. “You’re calling him a hoodlum, but you don’t know why that door was open or why he was here. You also know that he thought you were the hoodlum, and he thought he was protecting me from…” Those green eyes skimmed over him. “…a huge man dressed all in black sneaking around in the dark.”
“The light switch didn’t work, and I wasn’t sneaking anywhere.” He stopped, wondering why he was the one
