Читать книгу The Mommy Makeover - Bonnie Winn K. - Страница 9

Finn Malloy was hot. Figuratively and literally. Houston’s muggy heat was wilting his ever-so-proper chauffeur’s uniform and Katelyn Amhurst’s tardiness was doing the same to his normally even temperament.

The fact that she was a half hour late didn’t faze him—he knew executive meetings weren’t conducted by a stopwatch. Even an hour late didn’t bother him, but Katelyn had surpassed two hours and still wasn’t in sight. Finn wondered if she was even inside the damned building. Standing next to his car, he stared at the skyscraper and a mile-high wall of reflective glass stared back, giving no hint of who was inside.

Having not met the lady yet, Finn didn’t know if she was the type who habitually miscalculated the length of meetings, didn’t know how to manage time, or simply had no consideration for the poor slob of a driver waiting out in the heat.

He hoped she knew his clock started ticking when he pulled up in front of the building, not when she took a notion to step outside and into his limo. His operation might be a one-man show, but he maintained the same billing rates the big boys did.

Eventually he hoped to add at least one more car to his fleet. Fleet! Hah! Finn doubted anyone referred to a solitary limo as a fleet. But, every building started with a single piece of lumber or brick. And Malloy Enterprises was starting with this sole vehicle—one that the bank owned more of than he did, at the moment.

He glanced at his wristwatch and groaned. Two and a half hours. Maybe he should call her office and see if there’d been a change of plans. They had his cell-phone number, but maybe she was the type who suffered from the ten-broken-fingers syndrome, too.

Finn reached into his pocket for the phone, then paused. A woman was heading in his direction, but she couldn’t be the corporate crusher. No woman who moved like that could be a barracuda of the business world.

Her long hair, caught in a severe barrette, resembled a red flame in the sunshine, though he could see it was actually a combination of blond, gold, brown and red. High cheekbones competed with a sensual mouth for dominance in her arresting face. But his eyes really lingered on her lush figure, the long legs that stretched out endlessly, capped by ankle-breaking high heels.

No, it wasn’t in his stars to drive around a ripe morsel like that. With those long legs, she’d sashay right past his car…

“You, there. Look alive. I’m in a hurry.”

He stared blankly at her. Could it be?

Katelyn tapped her briefcase against the discreet limo logo on the car door. “You are the new driver, aren’t you?”

Finn straightened up, clearing his throat, hoping to clear the confusion as well. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Finn Malloy.”

Delicate brows arched upward as eyes of indeterminate color barely scanned him. She wore her indifference like the raw silk power suit that hugged her curves. “Fine. As I said, I’m in a hurry. I have to be at the River Oaks Country Club in less than an hour, but first we need to stop at my condo.”

She was in a hurry. That was rich. After he’d waited in the heat for more than two hours. “Guess your meeting ran overtime,” he commented, opening the door for her.

She grunted an unintelligible reply.

Seeing neither an explanation nor apology stirring, he closed her door and opened his own. He pulled away from the curb, the long car gliding effortlessly into the already crowded street.

Hearing a click, then smelling the distinctive aroma of a freshly lit cigarette, Finn frowned. “Ma’am. This is a no-smoking car.”

Watching in the mirror, he saw the displeasure cross her face before she inhaled deeply, then rolled down her window and stubbed out the cigarette.

He couldn’t make any exceptions. Too many passengers wouldn’t ride in a car that even faintly smelled of cigarette smoke. But she didn’t complain. He guessed she knew the tide had turned against smokers—especially since it was becoming more and more difficult to find places to smoke.

Glancing again in the rearview mirror he saw that she had donned a pair of seriously dark-rimmed glasses and was absorbed in a deep stack of papers. Apparently, she was up to her neck in work. Hell, he could cut her some slack. She probably hadn’t enjoyed being in a meeting that ran over by two hours any more than he’d enjoyed waiting for her. “So, you the one who got stuck doing homework?”

“Hmm?” she responded after a moment without looking at him, her head still bent downward.

“The papers. Are you the only one who had to stay after school?”

She finally glanced up, annoyance clouding her features. “School? You must be confused. I work for Ellington Advertising. I would have thought you’d know that from your dispatcher.”

“Right.” He’d have to remember that if he ever hired a dispatcher. Apparently, her job description didn’t include having a sense of humor.

He let the silence build in the car for a few minutes, but he wasn’t the sort of person who was comfortable with silence for long. “So, you got a big night planned at the country club?”

“Um,” she replied, once again not bothering to lift her head.

She was a real live one, he thought with disgust. She might look like a million bucks, but her conversation wasn’t worth two cents. Still, he persevered. “Gotta go home and change first, huh?”

“Ummm.”

At this rate he could talk himself to death.

“Guess you want to knock ’em dead.”

At this she did glance up. He met her frosty eyes in the rearview mirror. “I assure you it is not my intention to ‘knock ’em dead,’ nor is what I wear any of your concern.”

Frosty? Make that Antarctica frigid. He was surprised that ice hadn’t formed on the windows, despite the exterior heat. “No, ma’am.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before she returned them to her work.

Finn reached over to fiddle with the radio knobs, considering choosing a hard-rock station he knew would blast her prim little behind right off the seat. Instead he inserted a richly melodic Rachmaninoff tape that seemed to suit anyone he’d ever driven. He preferred it to the icy silence.

He rapped his fingers against the wheel in time to the music as he navigated through the growing traffic. Choosing to forego the freeway, knowing it would be snarled during commuting hours, he swung off onto a little-known alternate route. Of course, the ice princess lived in the trendy Galleria area. He could have guessed that without the information provided by her assistant.

Accustomed to her rigid silence, he nearly jumped when she spoke. “Where are we?”

“Headed to your condo.”

“Via Guatemala?” she questioned, staring out at the unfamiliar neighborhood.

He laughed, even though he doubted she meant to be funny. “Not quite. This way we’ll miss most of the traffic. Don’t worry. I know this city better than most people know their lovers.”

There was a momentary silence and he guessed she wasn’t comfortable with his point of reference.

“Be that as it may, Mr….”

“Malloy,” he supplied. “Finn.”

“Mr. Malloy,” she continued, ignoring his first name. “I prefer to not be driven through hell’s half acre. Safety is just as important a consideration as traffic.”

“You said you have to be at the country club in an hour. If I took the freeway, we wouldn’t even be at your condo in an hour.”

“Mr. Malloy, are you deliberately trying to be difficult?”

He grinned into the mirror, meeting her eyes, which now looked to be a cloudy gray. “No, but I’ve been told it’s one of my natural talents.”

“I doubt I’d term that a talent.”

“There are enough yes-men in the world. Don’t you get a charge out of something different?”

“I don’t get a charge out of risking my life to travel home.”

“You’re not in any danger. Besides, I can protect you if we run into trouble.”

“I’m not impressed with muscles, Mr….”

“Malloy,” he supplied again. “Finn.”

And again she ignored his first name. “…Malloy. I’m impressed with efficiency.”

“And you don’t think a person can have both?”

“It hasn’t been my experience. Now, Mr. Malloy, I have work to do.”

“Hey, sorry lady.”

Meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror, he had the impression she was silently counting to ten. “My name is Ms. Amhurst. I trust you can remember that.”

“Probably every bit as well as you can remember mine,” he replied pleasantly, his grin taking the sting out of his well-placed barb.

She harrumphed in reply and turned her attention back to her work. And despite a few more tries at conversation on his part, she didn’t respond. It was as though she’d set her hearing to the off position. When he pulled up in front of her condo a short time later, she didn’t comment on the remarkably quick time he’d made, nor anything else for that matter. Instead, she moved those delicious-looking legs of hers inside at warp speed.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be fine outside in the heat. No, I don’t need anything cold to drink—even if I have been waiting hours for you, without so much as a sip of water. Don’t give it another thought.” His words rang in the empty parking lot and he glanced upward at the windows he guessed were hers. Firmly drawn blinds covered the glass—no surprise there. He hadn’t met such an uptight woman in…He doubted he’d ever met such an uptight woman.

Finn was tempted to step back into the car to turn on the air-conditioning but he had a hefty gasoline bill to keep an eye on. He figured she’d be quite a while, even though she said she needed to be at the country club soon. He just hoped she didn’t intend to set another lateness record.

Having parked in the shade, Finn opted for pulling his cap over his eyes as he leaned against the limo’s immaculate fender. Settled in for a lengthy wait, he was startled when he heard the tapping of high heels only fifteen minutes later, followed by her voice, already barking orders.

“Let’s get moving, Malloy,” she ordered, grinding out a cigarette beneath one shoe.

Apparently if she dropped the “Mister” she could remember his name, he thought wryly. “Yes, ma’am.”

He offered a mock salute, before turning to open the rear door. But then he took a look at her—a really good look. She’d swept all of that marvelous hair up, revealing a long, shapely neck. A diamond necklace winked from between ample cleavage and a thigh-high slit in her long form-hugging gown flashed those incredible legs. He guessed she dressed to impress and intimidate. Nose in the air or not, she was one hot package.

Until he looked into her eyes. No longer seeming to be gray, they were the same rich blue as her gown—and as frosty as the rest of her glacial expression.

Finn stared at her curiously. “Do you have on different colored contacts?”

She glared at him. “I don’t wear contacts.”

“Then your eyes really do change color?”

“Yes. Not that it’s any of your concern. You’re paid to drive, Malloy, not ogle.”

“Sorry about that, Ms. Amhurst. You’re not like most of the clients I drive,” he replied, stifling his instinctive response.

“Perhaps I’ll request a more experienced driver next time,” she told him as she slid inside. “One who’s accustomed to all types of clients.”

Neat trick if you can manage it, he thought, wondering what she’d think if she knew he was Malloy Enterprises’s solitary employee. He was owner, operator, driver, dispatcher, accountant and salesman. Which reminded him that he needed this contract—more than he needed to antagonize Ms. Amhurst. “I’m in the process of getting that experience, ma’am. I appreciate your patience.”

She harrumphed before settling back in the seat.

With uncharacteristic silence he headed toward the country club. He could almost hear her unspoken surprise. It was nearly as much fun keeping her in suspense as actually needling her. She could believe he was bowing to her wishes, and at the same time he wouldn’t be antagonizing the hand that fed him.

Within minutes, they pulled up to the gatehouse of the prestigious River Oaks Country Club where entry was permitted only to a select few. But his passenger’s impeccable credentials shot them past the guard in moments.

Finn stopped in front of the massive entryway and opened the passenger door. Despite her standoffish manner, he couldn’t help admiring Katelyn’s elegant appearance. Silhouetted against the soft-pink aged brick, she looked as though the ornate building had been designed strictly as a backdrop for her. Then she broke the spell.

“Be here precisely at twelve.”

“Or my limo will turn into a pumpkin?” he responded with a charming smile intended to break the ice.

She gave him a long-suffering look. “Don’t be late, Malloy.”

He tipped his hat and then saluted. “No, ma’am.”

She turned, obviously dismissing him and he watched her walk inside, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips, the occasional flash of long legs.

“Knock ’em dead, Cinderella,” he muttered. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had time to go home and try to get a grip on things. With several hours of paid time to do as he pleased, perhaps driving the ice princess wouldn’t be so bad after all.

KATELYN FELT the dull, throbbing beginnings of a headache. Resisting the urge to rub her temples until she was safely out of sight, she smiled heartily at the executives from the Franklin Group as they left the dining room.

While the dinner hadn’t run overly long, it had been an excruciating four hours. The subtle balance between business and flirtation made her feel like she’d walked a tightrope all night. She knew it was part of being a woman in a male dominated executive world, still she wished she could simply concentrate on business and restrict the annoying male/female thing to her personal life. Katelyn grimaced at her last thought. As though she had time for a personal life.

She escaped to the smoking room and enjoyed one leisurely cigarette, waiting until she was certain the men from the Franklin Group were gone.

Katelyn sighed. Time to find her irksome new driver. Why couldn’t he just be one of the many bland, quiet little men who’d usually been her drivers? No chatter, no double entendres to deal with. He’d learn, like previous ones, that she took no guff. He’d either straighten up or lose the firm’s contract. With that thought in mind, she stalked toward the limo. Luckily for him, he was there on time, early in fact since it was only eleven-forty-five. And, he was at attention. Perhaps he just made a bad first impression or had been gripped with nervous chatter.

“Malloy,” she greeted him, knowing she wasn’t ever likely to forget his name again. It should have been easy to remember. He wore his Irish heritage like an ID badge. Wavy, black hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and a tall, muscular physique. And if she was in the mood to notice, a rugged, handsome face as well. But she wasn’t in the mood. Had she thought he could have been nervous? No, that wasn’t his problem. He didn’t lack an iota in the confidence department.

“Ma’am,” he replied, without as much of his earlier cockiness.

Good, perhaps he’s learning, she thought as he opened the passenger door.

Katelyn slid inside, leaning her head back against the seat, grateful the long evening was nearly over. As Finn opened his door, she straightened up, not willing to have anyone witness her fatigue. It was a sign of weakness, something she couldn’t tolerate.

As her head became level, she met three curious pairs of eyes. Since their heads barely reached the top of the seat, she could only assume they were very small children.

“Malloy?”

“Uh, these are my kids.” He tapped the first one’s head. “This is Jenny—she’s five. And the matching monsters are the twins—Erin and Eric. They’re three.”

Katelyn’s eyes moved between him and the children. “But what are they doing here?”

“Ah. Another baby-sitter quit. Since it was the middle of the night, I couldn’t get another one on such short notice.”

Katelyn refused to disguise her impatience or distaste. “Your personal problems are not my concern. I expect you to remedy the situation immediately.” She snapped out the order with all the compassion of a drill sergeant.

“What do you suggest? That I toss them out on the sidewalk until I’ve driven you home?”

Three woeful faces stared at her and she resisted the urge to squirm. “Of course not. But you have until tomorrow to take care of—” she glanced at the children “—it. If not, expect your firm to lose our contract. There are plenty of chauffeuring firms. I don’t need…” She looked again at the winsome trio. “Complications. You read me?”

“Like the Marine handbook.”

While she wondered at his odd reply, he buckled the kids into seat belts. From her vantage point they literally disappeared from sight. Relief filled her along with a nostalgic tugging that had attacked her more often than she wanted to admit. Her friend, Stefanie, insisted that it was her biological clock.

But Katelyn refused to believe her. Even though in the few still, quiet moments she allowed herself, Katelyn wondered at her decision to forego marriage and children. Wondered what it would be like to have a little moppet of her own.

Then she would remember her mother—how she’d never had time for her. Career-driven, she had left Katelyn’s upbringing to nannies and housekeepers. It wasn’t a fate she was willing to inflict on another generation. So, she pushed aside the urges, ignored the ticking of her biological clock and concentrated on the satisfaction her career gave her. She knew she wasn’t cut out to be one of the stay-at-home mommies, content to drive a minivan, spend her days wiping running noses, and exist in her husband’s shadow. No, she was too smart for that.

One of the children started to whine at that moment and Katelyn was immediately grateful for her own generous share of common sense.

She saw Finn reach over to soothe the child, speaking in a gentle voice as he did. Soon the whimpers quieted, but Katelyn wondered when the next protest would erupt. Now fully alert, despite her fatiguing evening, she was too anxious to stay quiet.

“So, Malloy, why isn’t your wife home with the kids? Does she work evenings?”

There was a small moment of silence, then she heard him clear his throat. “I lost my wife when the twins were born.”

Katelyn felt an immediate sense of remorse for probing at such a painful subject. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“You couldn’t,” he replied shortly.

“Hmm, right.” Katelyn knew when she was in uncharted territory and retreated back into silence.

Finn apparently caught the message because he was quiet as well, driving them swiftly through the night. It didn’t take long to reach her condo. After she’d exited the limo, Katelyn glimpsed the children through Finn’s open door. Sleeping, they looked like little angels. But she suspected that was an illusion.

“I have a nine-o’clock meeting at the Republic Bank Building. Be here at eight sharp in the morning.”

Once again he tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

FINN WATCHED HER walk inside, but he was almost too tired to appreciate the view. He turned to the car just as Erin woke up crying. Her wails woke her twin brother and Jenny was only a few moments behind. He guessed by the time they got home and he managed to get them to sleep, half the night would be gone. And he’d have to be up early to find a baby-sitter for the day, not to mention a permanent one.

Eight o’clock sharp, huh? He might be there at eight, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be sharp.

The drive home was just enough time for the children to deeply fall asleep. Finn tried not to waken them as he carried each one inside. The twins were the easiest. Although they fretted a bit, they settled back to sleep fairly quickly. Jenny, however, was more difficult.

“I had a dream, Daddy,” she muttered, clinging to him as he tried to put her to bed.

Patiently, he pushed the damp hair away from her forehead. “What did you dream about, sweetie?”

“I dreamed I called and called, but no one was there, Daddy.”

Pain clenched Finn’s heart. He agonized over the time he had to leave the children with sitters. No doubt it was stealing their sense of security. “I’m here now.”

Jenny had taken her mother’s death hard. Still little more than a baby herself, she had sobbed for her mother. In those first days, Jenny had cried herself to sleep each night in exhaustion. Finn had always picked her up to soothe her, but inevitably Jenny’s cries would waken the twins. Physically, it wasn’t possible to hold a toddler and two newborns at the same time. Despite a succession of housekeepers, there simply wasn’t enough time for the children. That was why Finn had started his limo service, in the hopes of spending more time with them. He stroked her soft, dark hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy’s here.”

She hiccuped a remaining half-cry. “I miss Mommy.”

Despite her young age, Jenny had clung to the memories of her mother. Finn had learned the hard way that a traumatic event such as death could remain even in a young child’s memory. Emotion clogged his throat. “I know, honey. I miss her, too.” Finn watched as Jenny settled down a bit, wishing fate hadn’t been so unkind to their family.

“Daddy, are we ever going to have a mommy again?”

This time the pain felt worse. Finn knew the children needed a mother. Housekeepers and babysitters were no substitute. And he couldn’t spend as much time with the children as they needed—he had to earn a living. But he was neither inclined nor eager to try the dating scene. And when was there time? As it was, he was running constantly to try and stay on top of things. Any woman who wandered into their chaotic household would no doubt leave shrieking.

He met Jenny’s questioning eyes. “What makes you ask about a mommy now?”

Jenny lifted small shoulders in a half-shrug. “Brianna’s mommy is real nice. She makes cookies in the oven, not from the store. And she knows which clothes Barbie wears and she knows how to fix Brianna’s hair into really pretty braids.”

Finn sighed. All the things he couldn’t do. “But I bet she can’t rebuild an engine.”

Jenny scrunched her face in girlish disdain. “Icky. Why would girls want to know that?”

Why indeed? “Maybe we could try that hair thing. Braids, eh?”

“Uh, huh. French fried braids.”

Finn drew his brows together. “Braids that look like French fries?”

“Daddy! They don’t look like French fries, they are French fried.”

Finn looked at her in puzzlement. What the heck were French fried braids? He wasn’t sure which one of them was confused, but he was fairly certain one of them was. “Tell you what, Jen. I’ll figure out how to make them, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied reluctantly. Then she lifted large expressive eyes, instant reminders of his late wife, Angela. “But it’s still not the same as having a mommy.”

Of course not. As hard as he tried, Finn could never replace her mother. There was one thing he could never overcome. He wasn’t a woman.

Exhausted, Finn hoped that Jenny would fall asleep soon. He would be lucky if he managed to grab even a few hours’ sleep before his early morning assignment. And he guessed his new boss would have little tolerance if he showed up late. She might look dynamite, but unfortunately she was as equally explosive.

Jenny curled her hand trustingly in his and Finn resigned himself to staying by her side. Perhaps Ms. Amhurst would wake up on the right side of the bed in the morning. She couldn’t be as tough as she appeared.