Читать книгу The Mummy Proposal - Cathy Thacker Gillen - Страница 8

Landry grumbled the moment he laid eyes on the supper selections. “There are dead fish on this pizza.”

Brooke knew it was a mistake to have Landry’s first meal with Nate in the formal dining room. The black lacquer table seated fifty. But there was no other place to eat inside the house, since the equally enormous kitchen was set up like a fancy hotel cook space, with stainless-steel counters and massive state-of-the-art appliances. So she had ignored her own instincts—which were to dine at one of the wrought-iron tables outside on the terrace—and gone along with Nate’s suggestion.

Nate looked momentarily taken aback by Landry’s disdain. “I had them put anchovies on only one of the pies.”

Landry stared at the dinner laid out for them, thanks to the local upscale pizza-delivery service. “That purple stuff looks gross, too.”

Nate glanced down at the colorful assortment of veggies topping another crust. “That’s grilled eggplant. And if you don’t like it, you could remove it and just eat the rest of the vegetables.”

That suggestion was met with mute resistance.

“Maybe you could try the Hawaiian pizza,” Brooke suggested kindly.

Landry scowled. “Who puts pineapple and ham on top of cheese and tomato sauce?”

“Actually, you’d be surprised. It’s pretty good.” Cole held out his plate. “I’ll have some,” he said.

Nate cheerfully handed over a generous slice.

“You might like it,” Brooke told Landry.

The boy stared glumly at the last option—a pale pizza with spinach and garlic—then looked back at Brooke. His great-grandmother had only been gone an hour, she thought. Already Landry was near meltdown. Her heart went out to him. Leaving Jessalyn would have been tough under any circumstances. Going to a place he didn’t know, to be with an old family friend he had never met …

She touched his arm lightly and offered a comforting smile. Landry gazed into her eyes, then wordlessly held out his plate. “My mom used to look at me like that, when she wanted me to do something I didn’t want to do,” he muttered beneath his breath.

Which was as close as they were going to get to verbal capitulation, Brooke thought, as she served him a slice of Hawaiian pizza. “You have to eat,” she said, using every ounce of motherly persuasion in her arsenal. “Otherwise, you’re only going to feel worse.”

Landry exhaled, bent his head over his plate, took a bite. Then another … and another.

Nate asked Cole how summer camp was going. Smiling, he launched into an account of everything he had done in the first two weeks. Brooke’s pride in her son’s outgoing nature and accomplished social skills was tempered by her concern for Landry. The orphaned child was so out of his depth here. Worse, she wasn’t sure Nate had the tools to reach him.

“Perhaps your attorney had a point,” she said half an hour later, when the two boys had gone outside to hit some tennis balls around the sport court behind the swimming pool. She cleared the table while Nate put the leftover pizza away. “Maybe you should slow this process down a bit, have Landry get to know you better first.”

“And put him where? Jessalyn’s heart is failing. She’s moving into a retirement village with round-the-clock nursing care tomorrow.”

“She can’t put it off even a short while or move in here with him temporarily?”

“I’ve already suggested both. It is Jessalyn’s opinion that Landry won’t bond with me or anyone else unless there’s no other option. She does think that he’ll enjoy academic camp. Apparently, he’s been extremely bored since school let out for the summer, and he’s as interested in computers and technology as Cole is.” Nate paused. “So I’ll work on getting that set up first thing tomorrow. In the meantime, I have to figure out what to do about the sleeping arrangements tonight.”

“What do you mean?” Brooke asked.

“Initially, I thought I would just put Landry in one of the guest rooms, and have you and Cole bunk in the caretaker’s cottage. Now I’m thinking it might be better to have you all stay in the main house this evening.”

“Or we could simply go home and come back tomorrow,” she offered hopefully.

Nate’s glance narrowed. “I don’t think Landry would like that.”

She sighed. “Probably not.”

Nate stepped closer.

She noticed the evening beard darkening his jaw. It lent a rugged masculinity to his already handsome features. Irritated to find herself attracted to him—again—she stepped back. She had a job to do here. One that did not involve lusting after the boss …

Oblivious to the desirous nature of her thoughts, Nate looked into Brooke’s eyes. “Landry’s bonding with you.”

She felt drawn to him, too. Landry needed a mom in his life again. So much so that he had immediately latched onto her.

But that was no solution, Brooke realized sadly.

She fought getting any more emotionally involved in a situation that was not hers to fix. She was trying to bring balance to her life, not more conflict. “He needs to bond with you, Nate.”

“And he will … over time,” Nate concurred calmly.

A little irked to see him treating this like just another life challenge, when it was so much more than that, Brooke murmured, “Never met a target you couldn’t charm?”

His persuasive smile faded, and with an understanding that seemed to go soul-deep, he murmured, “I never wanted to be in a situation where I had no family.”

But here he was, Brooke thought, unmarried and childless—until today, anyway.

“And I’m certain Landry doesn’t want to be in that situation, either.” Nate paused, before finishing resolutely, “When he realizes we can help each other, he’ll come around.”

Brooke hoped so. Otherwise, all four of them were in for a bumpy ride.

“PSSSST, MOM! Are you still awake?”

Her heart jumping at the urgency of the whisper, Brooke sat up in bed. “Cole?”

The guest room door eased open. Seconds later, Cole and Landry tiptoed in. Both were barefoot, clad in cotton pajama pants and T-shirts. Cole’s were stylish and vibrant: Landry’s were faded and on the verge of being too small.

Promising herself she would get Nate to take care of the clothes issue for Landry as soon as possible, Brooke turned on the bedside lamp. “Why aren’t you two asleep?”

Cole perched on the foot of her bed, then signaled for Landry to do the same. The boy came around to the other side.

It seemed being in the same boat had forged a bond between the two, Brooke noted. Realizing a first tentative step toward Landry’s future had been made, she smiled. Maybe Nate was smarter about all this than she had realized ….

“Because the place is too big and too quiet.” Hands clenched nervously, Landry sat down, too.

“It feels like we’re in a hotel—only we’re the only ones here,” Cole acknowledged with a comically exaggerated shiver. “Which is kind of spooky if you think about it too much.”

Ten thousand square feet of space was overwhelming, Brooke agreed. Especially the way the residence was decorated now, with a postmodern edge and minimal furnishings. The only television was in the master bedroom, where Nate was sleeping, so she couldn’t even offer that as a distraction.

“You boys have a big day tomorrow.” Both would be at summer camp all day. “I’ve got a lot on my schedule, too.”

“Can we hang out here for a while?” Cole asked.

Landry’s stomach grumbled loudly.

Suddenly, the mom in her kicked in, and Brooke knew what was really keeping them awake. “You guys wait here,” she told them. “I’ll be right back.”

NATE HAD JUST CLIMBED into bed when he heard the soft sound of footsteps in the hallway.

He sat up, listening. It wasn’t his imagination. That last creak had been the back stairs! He clamped down on an oath. Certain Landry was running away again, Nate flung back the covers and padded soundlessly down the hall, in the direction of the escape route.

But it wasn’t Landry he found standing in the bright light of the kitchen—it was Brooke.

Clad in a snug-fitting tank top and yoga pants, her brown hair tousled, she was standing at one of the two big stainless steel refrigerators, staring thoughtfully at the contents.

“I know,” Nate said. “I’ve got a little bit of everything in there.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder, as at ease in his home as he wanted her to be. “And here I didn’t imagine you could cook,” she drawled.

“I don’t. But I found out most of the women I’ve dated do, so it makes everyone happy if the fridge is well-stocked.”

Brooke’s smile faded. “Right,” she murmured.

The word had a wealth of undercurrents. “Meaning?” Nate prodded.

Her lips curved upward even as the light faded from her eyes. She said in a low, cordial tone, “You have a reputation for making the women in your life very happy, while they are in your orbit.”

Nate certainly tried. What point was there in spending time with someone unless it was a pleasurable experience? That didn’t mean, however, that he pretended something was going to work long term when it clearly wouldn’t.

“I don’t fall in love easily.” Although not for lack of trying. He wanted to be married and have a family.

She studied him as if trying to decide whether or not he was the womanizer some made him out to be, then brought out a bowl of fresh fruit, a loaf of artisan bread and a block of sharp cheddar. “Have you ever been in love?”

Nate handed over the serving board and bread slicer. “Once, with Landry’s mother.”

Brooke set to work preparing a snack, with the skill of a mom who spent a lot of time in the kitchen. “What happened to break you up? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

Normally, Nate followed the gentleman’s rule and did not talk about his previous relationships with women. For some reason, this was different. He wanted Brooke to understand. “I was working really long hours, getting my company off the ground,” he admitted, moving restlessly about the sleek, utilitarian kitchen. “Seraphina was pretty involved in planning our wedding, and she had an old friend living in her building. Miles Lawrence was trying to make it as a stand-up comedian, and she went to as many of his appearances as she could. I didn’t worry about the amount of time they spent together. As it turns out, I should have,” Nate reflected ruefully. “She broke off our engagement to run away with him.”

“And had a child,” Brooke interjected, perceptive as ever.

Reluctantly, Nate met her eyes. “Some eight months later.”

Her hand froze in midmotion. She stared at him, already doing the math. “Is it possible that Landry is yours?”

Nate had been wondering the same thing. All he could go on was what he knew for sure. “The birth certificate lists Miles Lawrence as Landry’s father.”

She went back to slicing up fruit and arranging it on a serving platter. “What about this Miles? Where is he?”

Nate lounged against the counter and watched the competent motions of her dainty hands. “Jessalyn told me yesterday that he left Seraphina before the baby was born. Miles wanted to focus on building an act that revolved around being a single guy, one always in love with a woman he could never hope to get.”

Brooke looked horrified. “Don’t tell me the man insisted he had to be chasing skirts to get material….”

Nate folded his arms across his chest, sharing her disdain. “Apparently so. Anyway, Seraphina was still in love with him and hoped he would come around and change his mind about marrying her and building a family together, if she gave him a little time. That’s what Jessalyn told me. But they never had a chance to find out. He died in a plane crash when Landry was just two months old.”

Brooke offered a commiserating glance. “So Landry never knew him.”

Nate shook his head. “According to Jessalyn, all he has are a few old photographs and stories from his mom.”

Brooke’s smooth brow furrowed. “So what are you going to do?”

What could he do? “Raise him as mine.”

“Without finding out?” Once again, Brooke looked shocked.

She was beginning to sound like his attorney. “There’s no point in it. I’ve already agreed to adopt Landry and bring him up as my son.” What counted, Nate knew, was the commitment made, and kept. Love would follow, over time. At least he hoped that would be the case. Thus far, Landry didn’t seem to have his heart open to anything except rebellion.

The tromp of youthful footsteps sounded on the back stairs. Seconds later, Landry and Cole came barreling into the kitchen. Cole nodded at Nate, then turned back to his mom. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

“We thought maybe you got lost,” Landry added, ignoring Nate altogether and looking at Brooke with concern.

Abruptly, the teenager swung around toward Nate, suspicious as ever. “How come you’re up?” he demanded.

Nate straightened. He had to find a way to get Landry to respect him. The first step was telling it like it was, in situations like this. “I heard something and thought you might be taking off again,” he informed him matter-of-factly.

An inscrutable light came into Landry’s eyes. It was followed swiftly by a smirk. “And so what? You were going to stop me?”

Nate nodded with the quiet authority he knew Landry needed. “That’s my job now.”

When Landry sullenly turned away, Nate knew he’d gotten his point across.

“It’s going to take time for Landry to adjust,” Brooke told Nate, after the boys had taken their snacks and headed upstairs.

How long? Nate wondered, aware that Landry was already giving Brooke a much easier time.

But then again, Nate realized, Brooke wasn’t the adult legally aiding Landry’s great-grandmother in keeping Landry here against his wishes ….

Brooke patted his arm before heading back upstairs, too. “In the meantime you’ve got to be patient and follow the plan you’ve set out and give him plenty of positive things to do.”

NATE KNEW BROOKE WAS right. So first thing the following morning, he took Landry to the academic camp where Cole was enrolled in the summer program. He and Landry talked to the director, took the tour. As they headed back to her office, the teen shrugged and muttered, “I guess it’ll be okay. Can I be in the same group as Cole?” The director nodded.

Nate filled out the paperwork, wrote a sizable check and said goodbye to Landry. Then he headed for downtown Fort Worth, and the weekly meeting with his four business partners at One Trinity River Place.

Knowing the four guys would have invaluable advice to offer, since they were all experienced parents, Nate filled the group in on everything that had happened the last few days, starting with Jessalyn’s phone call and the letter from her late granddaughter, Seraphina.

“Time helps,” Travis Carson said, with the expertise of a widower who had shepherded his own two daughters through the demise of their mother.

“In the meantime … I have to agree with your lawyer,” Grady McCabe told Nate seriously. “You are jumping the gun a bit, deciding to adopt Landry before the two of you have had a chance to develop any real rapport. The promise may not ring true to him.”

Nate respected Grady’s inherent ability to look at the big picture. Not just in the skyscrapers and other mixed-use development projects they built, but in their personal lives, too.

Dan Kingsland added matter-of-factly, “I know you’ve already hired Brooke Mitchell….”

Nodding, Nate was glad he’d had the foresight to bring her on board. She was the one ray of sunshine in his chaotic life right now.

“But redecorating your house just highlights the fact you’re going to have to make a lot of changes to take Landry in,” Dan continued. “I can’t say how he would respond to that, since I’ve never met him, but I know my three kids would interpret it to mean they’re a burden.”

Jack Gaines added, “The faster change occurs, the harder it is to accept.”

Nate knew Jack and his daughter had just weathered a lot of upheaval due to a hasty wedding in their family. But that had worked out okay in the end, too. “I have faith Brooke Mitchell will be able to pull this off,” he told his friends.

“The home makeover, sure,” Grady said. “Everyone knows Brooke can work miracles in that regard. That’s why her services are in such high demand.”

“But she’s not going to be there two weeks from now when the task is finished,” Dan cautioned.

“At that point,” Travis interjected, “you have got to be prepared to parent solo. And the rest of us know from experience that is one of the hardest things to do.”

But it could be done, Nate thought, as the meeting concluded and he headed home to confer with Brooke over the lunch hour. All he needed were a few more tips and parental insights from her to get Landry moving in the right direction. After that happened, Nate was confident that the tension in his household would fade.

When he drove in the front gates, he expected to see the cleaning van on its way out, not furniture dotting the lawn. Nor a Cadillac next to Brooke’s van, with a faculty parking sticker for a local university prominently displayed. Curious, Nate walked across the lawn, hearing the voices as he rounded the house.

“You gave me no choice,” the bearded, white-haired man said. “You’ve been ducking my calls.”

“I had hoped,” Brooke said archly, “that would be enough for you to get the message.”

The elderly man countered, “You and Cole have to be at the publication party for Seamus’s book.”

Wary of intruding, but not about to leave Brooke to fend for herself if help was needed, Nate reluctantly stayed where he was and continued listening in.

“If you and Cole don’t show up, people will start asking questions.”

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Brooke’s voice rang with contempt. “We wouldn’t want anything to reflect poorly on the university!”

“We were protecting you and Cole.”

“While turning a blind eye? If you had wanted to help, you should have let me know what was going on, long before that night.”

“Brooke …” The gentleman held out a hand in entreaty.

She glared. “You have to leave.”

He pushed a book and what looked to be some sort of engraved invitation into her hands. “Not before you agree to attend the party.”

Her expression distraught, Brooke backed away.

Enough was enough. Nate walked briskly around the landscaped swimming pool toward the caretaker’s cottage. He extended a hand toward the bearded man. “Nate Hutchinson. And you’re …?”

“Professor Phineas Rylander, from the university where Brooke’s husband taught. I was just inviting her to a pre-publication party that the English department is giving for her late husband, Seamus. It’s his last work and we are very happy to be able to promote his collection of poetry. Naturally, we want Brooke and her son to attend.”

Brooke pressed her fingertips to her temple. “I don’t think it’s going to be possible.”

Professor Rylander refused to give up. “I beg you to reconsider.”

Nate clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I—” the man began.

“I’ll walk you to your Cadillac.”

Reluctantly, the professor assented. Nate escorted him out, waited until he drove away, then returned to Brooke. She was sitting on one of the half-dozen pieces of mismatched furniture that had been moved to the lawn outside the cottage. She had the book and the invitation in her hands, and was staring down at the photo on the jacket cover.

Nate followed the direction of her gaze.

Seamus Mitchell had been handsome and distinguished. Yet Brooke was regarding the photo with utter loathing and contempt. Not exactly the reaction Nate would have expected. “Are you okay?”

She rose with quiet dignity. “No, I’m not,” she said frankly. “And you know why?” Bitterness underscored her every syllable. “Because I know what it feels like to be betrayed by a loved one, too!”