Читать книгу A Pregnant Proposal - Elizabeth Harbison - Страница 11

Seven months later

Jen woke to the sound of the door buzzer at 7:00 a.m. First she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, hoping it had been her imagination, but it sounded again. And again. She pulled herself up awkwardly and slipped a robe around her ripe form.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called, stumbling across the still-dark living room of her apartment. She got to the door and put her hand on the chain lock. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Abigail Sedgewick,” a voice answered, without a trace of apology for the early intrusion. “Philip’s mother.”

As if Jen wouldn’t remember who Abigail Sedgewick was. In the weeks following Philip’s death, she’d had quite a bit of contact with Abigail and her husband, Dutch. They demanded every remnant of Philip that was in Jen’s apartment, from clothing to tie clips to tweezers. They had even taken the engagement ring that Philip had bought for Jen. Everything had “sentimental value” they said, never asking Jen if anything had sentimental value for her.

As it turned out, almost nothing did because her memories of him were colored almost daily with new revelations about his character. Philip, it seemed, had enjoyed many, many liaisons with women—mostly married women—during his engagement to Jen. There were so many gold-ringed weeping women in black at his funeral it had looked like a convent.

Jen leaned heavily against the door and said a short prayer for strength. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Sedgewick?”

“You could open the door, dear, rather than leave me standing in the hall,” came the terse reply.

Jen opened the door a crack and looked out at the perfectly manicured and coiffed woman before her. “I’m not really dressed yet—”

“Not dressed? At 7:00 a.m.?” The look of disapproval was unmistakable. “Most people are already on their way to work by now.”

“I don’t have to be there until nine and it’s only ten minutes—” She stopped herself. She didn’t owe Abigail Sedgewick an explanation for anything. “What can I do for you, Abigail?” The name didn’t trip easily off Jen’s tongue; the older woman had never suggested she call her anything but her formal title.

“It’s about Philip’s tennis racket.”

My God. Has something happened to it? Jen squelched the sarcastic response. “His tennis racket?”

“I believe you have it here,” she said, an unmistakable accusation dripping from her words. “We need it back. It isn’t yours, you know, and it has great sentimental value to his father and myself.”

Jen couldn’t imagine that the sentimental value was that great since it had been seven months since he’d passed away, and they’d never mentioned it before. On top of that, it was November—hardly tennis season, although the Sedgewicks’ club undoubtedly had indoor courts. “I wasn’t trying to steal it,” Jen said. “He left it here when—”

“Do you know where it is?” Abigail interrupted. “Or should I wait while you search for it?”

As it happened, Jen did have the tennis racket and she knew just where it was because she’d used it a couple of weeks earlier to smooth a new border along the wallpaper of the nursery. Giving in with a sigh, she pulled her robe as closely around her as she could and opened the door. “Come on in, I’ll get it from the back room.”

Abigail took a single step over the threshold and waited as Jen walked down the hall to the small storage room she was converting into a nursery. She picked up the racket, scratched some wallpaper glue off the handle, and took it back to the door where Abigail stood waiting.

“Here you go,” Jen said, stifling a yawn. “Is there anything else?”

There was no answer.

“Is there anything else?” she asked again, then, with a start, realized the reason for Abigail’s silence.

She was staring at Jen’s belly.

“…and heaven knows how long Jennifer Martin’s going to be out when she has that baby. She doesn’t have a husband to help take over the work at home, you know. We need to start at least three temps on staff right away, to do whatever grunt work they possibly can, freeing others to help with Jen’s workload. And if I were you, Matt, I’d make sure at least one of them is interested in staying on permanently and learning the ropes. Jennifer might not be back.”

Matt Holder frowned. “What do you mean she might not be back?” he asked his assistant, Leila, sharply.

“She’s single?” Kane Haley asked before Leila could answer Matt.

“This is the brunette in Benefits, right?”

“She’s the Benefits Manager,” Matt told him, then turned back to Leila. “Why do you say she might not be back? Did she say something to you?”

“I thought she was married,” Kane went on, making it sound as if that was as important as whether or not she returned to her job.

“She was engaged but her fiancé died,” Leila explained. “She didn’t tell anyone she was pregnant until months afterwards.”

“Leila,” Matt said firmly. “Answer me.”

“How many months afterwards?” Kane wanted to know. His dark brown eyes were sharp with interest.

Matt looked at him incredulously. “Kane, man, what’s with the sudden interest in your employees’ private lives?”

Kane looked momentarily chagrined then said to Matt, “You know as well as anyone that the health of a company depends on the health and happiness of its employees.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assume that’s why you are also so intent on whether Jennifer is staying with the company.”

Matt didn’t give a hoot about the company as compared with Jen’s health and happiness, but he wasn’t about to admit it to Kane and Leila. “I’m concerned with any possible changes to the staff,” he dodged.

Kane gave the merest hint of a smile. “Very concerned, it appears. I’m glad to see it.” He turned back to Leila. “Matt was asking about Jennifer’s plans for her future with the company. What do you know about that?”

Leila blushed, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, with her being alone and all, I heard that she might find work that she can do at home.”

“Day care is a concern for several of the women here,” Kane murmured, then asked Matt. “Have you done any research about that? What do you think about having it on-site?”

“I think it can work,” Matt said. He’d been mulling over the idea for a few weeks now, since Kane had first mentioned the possibility. “I’ve run some preliminary numbers and I think it would ultimately save the company a considerable sum. Not to mention the fact that it would foster that sense of well-being you were just advocating for employees.” He smiled.

Kane smiled back. “My thoughts exactly. Where do you propose setting it up?”

“In the offices on the 15th floor that are currently housing old computers and parts. We could donate the hardware to a local seniors’ center, take a nice tax deduction, and turn the rooms into a day-care center.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Everything except the reality of it. I still need to talk to the parents here, find out what their needs are and determine whether we can provide them.” Jen would be the perfect one to talk to, in fact.

“Do it,” Kane said. “Give me a detailed report, include the pros and the cons, and we’ll see what we can do.”

“You got it.”

Kane nodded. “Also, I want four temps brought in to pick up the slack. I have a feeling things are going to be pretty volatile around here for a while.” He stood up and gave Matt a thump on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work.”

“Thanks, Kane.” He watched Kane go and turned back to Leila. “Did Jen tell you that herself?”

Leila’s eyes were fixed on Kane as he exited. She was like a teenager with a crush. Half the women in the office were like that over Kane. “What?” she asked, distractedly.

“Jen Martin. Did she tell you that she might not stay with the company?”

Leila turned back to him and shook her head. “I just heard it through the grapevine. Kane’s right, you do seem awfully concerned about her.”

He wasn’t going to dignify that implication with an answer. He stood up. “If it has to do with staff changes, I’m concerned. I’m going to go see what she has to say about this herself.” He started out the door. “Print out that report on absenteeism and office day care.”

“Okay. Should I send your calls to Jen’s office?”

“Take messages,” Matt tossed over his shoulder.

He punched the elevator button and stood back, impatiently tapping his foot. He didn’t see much of Jen at work, but he’d be awfully sorry if she left. There was just something nice about having her around. He’d miss seeing her face. He pushed the elevator button again. Maybe, if she was considering leaving, the day-care center would convince her to stay.

Finally the elevator doors opened and Susan Bane stepped out.

“Is Jen in her office?” he asked, without preamble.

Susan nodded. “I just saw her. Why?”

“I just need to talk to her for a minute.”

“Well, you’d better hurry, she’ll be gone soon.”

“What do you mean?” he asked sharply.

Susan looked surprised. “She was getting ready to go to lunch.”

“Oh.” Relief. “Maybe I can catch her.”

“Watch out.” Susan laughed. “Lately, if Jen wants to eat, you’d better stay out of the way.”

He smiled and the doors began to close. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

When he got to her office, Jen was indeed on her way out. She already had her coat and scarf on. In one mittened hand she held a doughnut, and, as she tried to close her office door, her keys slipped out of the other.

Matt swooped in and bent down to pick them up for her. “Hey,” he said, handing her the key chain.

Her face flushed prettily, making her green eyes sparkle even more than usual. “Hey,” she said back. “Thanks. What are you doing down here?”

“I came to see you, actually.”

“Me?”

“Yes, can you spare a few minutes?” Honestly, he’d never seen such a beautiful example of the “bloom of pregnancy.” Jen had it in spades.

“Now?”

“Unless you’re in too much of a hurry.”

She shrugged. “I was just going to go home and eat. No biggie.”

“How about I take you to Slates for lunch?”

“Slates,” she repeated, with a raise of her brows. “What’s the occasion?”

“I need to have a talk with you.”

Her face paled. “You’re not firing me, are you? I know I’m going to need some time off, but—”

“No, Jen, no.” He was so touched by her unexpected show of vulnerability that he wanted to take her into his arms. “Actually, I want to pick your brain about childcare. Kane’s interested in putting a center on-site for you and the other parents here.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “That would be a godsend.”

“Great. Let’s go, then. Maybe we can hammer out enough of the details to get something started.”

Jen heaved her purse up onto her shoulder. “So whose idea was the day care? Yours?”

He shook his head. “I’d like to take credit, but it was Kane’s idea.”

She looked surprised. “No kidding?”

“No kidding.”

“Wow. He’s really been softening up lately. I saw him about ten minutes ago and he seemed unusually interested in how I’m feeling. I didn’t even know he knew who I was.”

Matt remembered his conversation with Kane earlier. “He knows who you are. You’re hard to miss.”

She made a face. “I know. Thanks for the reminder.” She gestured helplessly at her belly. “Not too much longer.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Matt said, then laughed. “Although you have a point. But you’re a standout anyway.”

She screwed up her face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“A good way, of course. If it was in a bad way, I wouldn’t have said anything.” He kept a straight face. “I would have just fired you.”

She cocked her head ever so slightly, but before she could respond, a round, bespectacled man neither recognized called out, “Miss Martin?” from down the hall in front of them.

Matt and Jen turned to see him trundling toward them, sweating, and holding a folder of some sort.

“Yes?”

“Jennifer Martin?” the man asked, mopping his brow with his forearm.

A cannonball of apprehension lodged in Matt’s stomach. Instinctively he stepped in front of Jen and started to ask who the man was, but before he could get a word out, she said, “Yes, I’m Jennifer Martin.”

The man shoved the folder roughly into her hand and said, “These are for you.”

“What?”

The man waddled back down the hall without another word.

“Hey!” she called after him. “Who are you?”

“He looks like a process server,” Matt said gently. “Just a messenger for someone else.”

“An evil, soulless messenger.” She frowned and tried to look at the folder. “But for who?” She lost her grip and dropped the folder rather than her doughnut, then laughed. “Wouldn’t want to drop this. Would you mind picking that up?”

“Not at all.” It went against his instincts to pick up someone else’s private papers, but he couldn’t very well stand there and make her bend over to get them. He lifted the folder and held it out to her.

She gestured that she was holding keys in one hand and her doughnut in the other. “Would you look?” she asked with a charming smile. “Who’s it from?”

He looked at the return address. “Sedgewick-Armour.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ack. I should have known. It’s Philip’s father. I wonder what he wants now. An old pair of socks that Philip left at the apartment, no doubt. Open it up.”

“Jen, I really don’t think I should.”

“Oh, come on.” She dropped her keys into her pocket and pulled a mitten off with her teeth. “It’s no big deal.” She stuffed the mitten into her pocket, transferred the doughnut to her free hand and did the same with her other mitten, watching Matt all along.

With a shrug, he opened the envelope and pulled out the papers. His heart sank. “Let’s go back in your office.”

“Why?”

He opened the door, put a hand on her small shoulder and guided her back into the office.

“Matt, jeez, what’s the matter? What do they want, the stereo? They can have it.”

“They don’t want the stereo, Jen.” She was eight months pregnant and single. That was hard enough without additional stresses. This was going to be devastating. And it was absolutely the last thing in the world she needed right now. “Have a seat.”

She obviously picked up on the seriousness of his tone because she took the folder, saying, “What is this? I can’t read all this legal mumbo jumbo.”

“Sit.” He helped her into her chair and knelt before her, taking her hands in his, resting them on top of the folder on her lap.

“What is it, Matt? What do they want?”

He gave her hands a squeeze and swallowed hard. “They want the baby, Jen.”