Читать книгу An Imperfect Match / Next Comes Love: An Imperfect Match / Next Comes Love - Helen Brenna - Страница 9

DEAN GLANCED at the dusty wall clock and noted the time. Five past eight. She was officially late on her first day of work. That didn’t bode well for her future with Halvorsen Construction. He sighed. So much for helping a person out. He grabbed the plans for the building site he was scheduled to survey today and had only just rolled them out the length of his conference table when the front door flew open. Annabelle came through carrying more things than she had hands.

Then he noticed the small bundle in her right arm was wearing tiny shoes and his mouth dropped open.

“I’m so sorry,” she started, setting down a stuffed diaper bag and a long rectangle of a contraption that Dean had a sinking feeling was a playpen. “Dana was supposed to watch Honey, but she was called out on the ambulance and I didn’t have time to find another babysitter. But I swear she’ll be no trouble at all. I brought toys and snacks and her favorite blanket and…and…please don’t fire me. I really need this job.”

“Honey?” Dean stared at the little girl who was staring at him with the biggest blue eyes he’d ever seen. “Did you say her name was Honey?”

“That’s right,” she answered, smiling without a hint of bashfulness. “From the moment I first laid eyes on her I thought she was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen and immediately knew Honey was the right choice. Honey Faith Nichols. She’s my girl.”

“How old is she?” he asked.

“Sixteen months. Her birthday is in February. She’s an Aquarius. I’m a Cancer. Do you know what your sign is?”

“Uh, no. I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“Oh, I do. I think it gives a lot of insight to your personality. When’s your birthday? I know a bit about astrology. I could find out—”

“No, that’s okay. So, Honey…Aren’t you worried about what other kids might say about a name like that?”

She frowned. “No. Should I be?”

“Well, I don’t know, it’s just a little odd.”

At that she chuckled. “It’s only odd to those who like everything to fit in preordained little spaces. I want to encourage Honey to do whatever inspires her. I don’t want anyone ever to tell her that she can’t or shouldn’t do something simply because she might not fit a stereotype.”

He didn’t know what to say. Annabelle didn’t seem to notice. She smiled as she looked at her daughter. Love was evident in her expression and voice as she said, “Besides, it’s who she’s meant to be. Can you imagine her as a Christie or a Sarah?”

No. Actually, he couldn’t. Naming a kid something like Honey was a little too hippy-dippy for his sensibilities, but the longer he stared at the child he realized the name fitted her well. The kid was downright cherubic. He couldn’t remember if all kids that age were that cute or just this one. He glanced at the clock and his odd musing fled.

“Uh, well, as long as she stays in that playpen,” he said, not quite sure of what else to do. “This place isn’t baby-proof and it’s not safe. I’m not even sure if we’re insured for this sort of thing. God, I’m betting we’re not. Just keep her contained, will you?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, bobbing her head. “You won’t even notice she’s here. I promise. She’s the best baby. Thank you.”

Dean eyed the baby and all the gear that came with her and was thrown off-kilter. His son, Brandon, was seventeen and self-sufficient. Dean hardly remembered what it was like to have a baby around. And that’s just the way he wanted to keep it, he almost growled.

Grabbing his coat, he was stalking out, ready to get to the job site and back to something he understood and felt comfortable with, when he realized he hadn’t told Annabelle her duties. Stopping at the door, he gestured toward the mess, saying, “Don’t touch anything. I have a system and I don’t want anyone messing with it.”

She gave his cluttered desk a dubious look but nodded to indicate she wouldn’t touch it. “So, what should I do?” she asked.

“You can make coffee, answer phones, take messages, scrub the bathroom, general office stuff.”

“I don’t consider scrubbing the bathroom general office stuff,” she retorted, frowning. “I could file things for you. Type up whatever you need. I’m pretty handy with the computer, too. What computer programs are you running?”

“Uh.” He glanced down at his watch and swore. “I don’t know. Sammy does all that stuff. You’ll have to ask him. Don’t file anything. Like I said, you’ll mess up my system. Just…just…I don’t know, stay out of things. I’ll be back in a while. I’m late!”

Dean got to the job site and although part of his brain was on work and he managed a coherent conversation with the foreman, another part of his brain was stuck on the woman sitting in his office with a toddler.

She should’ve mentioned she had a kid.

Why?

Because…well, there was no defensible answer because it was none of his business. Still, it became his business when that kid ended up in his office.

This wasn’t something that could become a habit. He hadn’t wanted to hire her in the first place and now he had a woman with daycare issues.

He glanced skyward at the clouds rolling in for an end-of-season storm and knew it would be raining before he returned to the office. It wouldn’t be a cold rain, but rather a mild soak promising some muggy humidity afterward.

Sammy drove up, raucous music blaring from his truck loud enough to split an eardrum, and Dean was ready to take out his frustration on his youngest brother.

“What’s up, big brother?” Sammy asked with typical good humor. Sammy had been born with an innate ability to find the lighter side in every situation. “I hear you hired Dana’s friend? Good. Sounds like a win-win situation on both sides.”

News traveled fast. Especially between women. “You know she has a kid?”

“Yeah? So? You like kids. You got one of your own, remember?”

Dean glowered. “I didn’t expect her to show up for her first day of work with a baby on her hip. That’s not professional by my standards.”

“You need to loosen up. You’re wound so tight if you were a clock you’d bust a spring. Listen, Dana told me a little about her story and she deserves a break.”

“What do you mean?”

Sammy shrugged. “For being only twenty-six, she’s had a hard life.”

“How so?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

Dean backed off. “I don’t want to get involved.”

“Too late. She’s your employee now. I’d say you’re involved…at least a little.” At Dean’s sour look, Sammy chuckled. “So she’s packing a kid around. Big deal. What counts is she’s a good person looking for a fresh start, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dean said, softening just a little. He admired people willing to work hard and earn what they wanted in life, but he also knew that sometimes luck played a part. By the sounds of it, she hadn’t had much in that department. “All right. She can stay—for a while. We’ll see how good an office manager she turns out to be. No promises, got it?”

“No problem. I’ve done my part by talking her up. The rest is on her. Dana understands that. I think,” he added with a slight frown.

Dean eyed Sammy speculatively. “Everything okay? With you and Dana?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sammy said, waving away Dean’s concern but then added, “You know, this marriage stuff isn’t as easy as you and Beth made it look. I guess I figured as long as you loved someone all the other stuff would fall into line. Besides, the other stuff is petty, right?”

“Sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t. What’s going on with you two?”

Sammy shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t get Dana. I ask her ‘what’s wrong?’ and she says ‘nothing,’ but then glares at me for the rest of the day as if I haven’t asked. She’s got me so turned upside-down I don’t know which end is up anymore.”

“You love her, right?”

“More than I thought possible. It’s kinda scary, actually. I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone.”

Dean remembered those early days when he and Beth were two dumb kids playing house rather than two adults trying to foster a good marriage. “Then stick with it. It gets better with time. You get to know each other and then you fall into a rhythm. There were times when Beth and I could almost finish each other’s sentences we were so in tune with each other,” he said. “And then there were other times when it seemed we were talking different languages. It’s a dance, brother. When you have a good partner sometimes you lead, other times you follow, but it’s always a beautiful song.”

A moment of silence passed between the brothers as a wave of loss rippled between them. Inhaling slowly, Sammy clapped Dean on the shoulder. “Beth was one of a kind. No doubt about it.”

“That she was,” Dean agreed, his throat closing. He looked at Sammy. “Hey, enough of this serious stuff. We’re sitting here sniffling like two old ladies when we’ve got work to do.”

“Ever the hard-ass.” Sammy smiled. After a short pause, he sobered, saying, “Thanks for giving Annabelle a chance. She needs it. And I think she’ll be good for the office.”

Dean nodded grudgingly, not quite sure where he sat on that score. He hoped it went smoothly. He’d never been one to fire someone, which was why he preferred to work with family. He knew they wouldn’t let him down. All three Halvorsen men were dependable, even Sammy, despite his wild streak. In fact, he was really missing his brother Josh, but he couldn’t fault the man for wanting to spend time with his new wife, Tasha. He sighed, his thoughts returning to his new office manager, hoping he wouldn’t regret his decision.

Time would tell.

ANNABELLE sat behind the incredibly messy desk and wondered what she was supposed to do if she couldn’t actually do anything. Honey was playing quietly in her playpen, content for the moment with the plethora of toys and books Annabelle had brought, so Annabelle took the opportunity to walk around the small office space.

It was nothing fancy and it was plainly evident men were the primary occupants. The bathroom was, for lack of a better word, gross. The seat on the toilet was up and if she hadn’t noticed before trying to use it she’d have been swimming in the toilet bowl.

She was returning to the desk when the front door opened and a tall, good-looking teen walked in, then did a double take.

“Who are you?” he asked without preamble, a scowl deepening on his face. “Where’s my dad?”

Annabelle jumped from the chair and extended a hand toward the boy, but he chose to ignore the gesture and ask again, “Who are you and why are you sitting in my mom’s chair?”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t realize someone…Uh, well, Mr. Halvorsen didn’t actually specify where I should sit, I just assumed I should sit here. My name’s Annabelle Nichols. It’s my first day. And you are?”

“Brandon Halvorsen. My dad owns this place,” he answered, plainly still ticked but doing his teenage best to keep it under control. Too bad for her he wasn’t doing a great job. She felt like a first-rate interloper. “When’s he coming back?” he demanded, and she managed a shrug.

“He didn’t say.” Great. The kid hated her for some reason. For the sake of keeping her job, she tried making amends for whatever he thought she’d done. “I’m sorry I caught you off guard. Your dad offered me the job yesterday and it’s my first day.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry about your mom,” she offered—Dana had told her Dean’s wife had died in a car accident—but the boy was plainly not in the mood to receive condolences.

He grunted. “Yeah, well, that’s life, right?”

“Sometimes. My mom died a few years ago. I know what it feels like to lose someone special. If you ever need someone to talk to…I can relate.”

He looked at her as if she was crazy, and she wished she could rescind the offer. This kid was determined to be pissed at her no matter what she said. Fine. She wasn’t one to push against a brick wall. She sighed. “Well, nice to meet you. I’d better get back to work. Do you want to leave a message for your dad that you came by?”

“Don’t bother. I’ll call his cell,” the boy said and abruptly left, slamming the door behind him.

She glared at the door and wondered if taking this job was more trouble than it was worth. Surely, there had to be something else in this town that she could do. Obviously, Dean had forgotten to mention a few key points about this job. Such as a bad-tempered teenager who didn’t approve of anyone taking over where his mom left off. She glanced around the office, noting the disarray, and wondered how long the office had been running without a rudder. She knew how lost she’d felt when her mom died. She couldn’t imagine losing a spouse and a business partner at once.

She turned to Honey, who was watching with an owl-like stare that was her signature. Annabelle often wondered if her daughter was an old soul. Sometimes, it seemed the girl knew more than she should at such a tender age. Her mouth twitched with a confused smile as she asked, “What are we going to do, kiddo? Stick it out with these people or just call it a day?”

Honey blinked and then returned to her toys, seemingly content with what she had been doing.

“All right,” Annabelle said, pursing her lips slightly as she decided to stick it out and see where things went. “We stay. But don’t get too comfortable. I have a feeling this just isn’t the place for us.”