Читать книгу The Good Father - Kara Lennox - Страница 8

Jane Selwyn’s knees felt watery as she made her way across the steaming asphalt parking lot toward the three-story office building. The Remington Agency was her last chance for gainful employment in Port Clara. In the span of a few short weeks, she’d gone from pampered, rich man’s wife to begging for a job from the man who had unwittingly broken up her marriage.

Not that the marriage hadn’t already been gasping its dying breaths. But Max Remington’s flirtations had finished it off in a hurry.

Jane stepped into the building’s cool interior and checked her appearance one last time in the lobby mirror. She straightened the lapel of her red power suit and glossed on another layer of lipstick. Her silk blouse was already damp and sticking to her skin—August in South Texas was brutally hot, even on the coast. Still, she looked the part of a successful executive. Unfortunately, her pathetically slim portfolio told a different story.

For six years she had devoted her days to keeping herself and her home beautiful for her husband and raising their daughter. Scott had freaked out whenever she even mentioned getting a job. But now it was just her and three-year-old Kaylee, and no money. Employment was a necessity.

Everyone said she was crazy to ask for so little in the divorce. But no one had known how desperate she’d been to get out with no one else hurt. Now she was the proud owner of a sleek cabin cruiser—her settlement—and a single mother of a gorgeous child, both of which ate away at her meager savings.

She never would have applied to the Remington Agency if she hadn’t exhausted all other possibilities.

The agency was on the third floor of Port Clara’s nicest office building. Jane paused before the door and sent up a prayer that Max would see past the humiliating events of their early acquaintance, past her short résumé, and give her a chance.

She straightened her spine and opened the door, then sucked in a breath of surprise. She hadn’t expected a local ad agency to be quite so upscale. Though the reception area was small, it screamed class with its stone floor, rough limestone walls, and water cascading down a waterfall in the corner. With all the ferns and the muted lighting, she felt as if she’d entered a small corner of a rain forest.

A stylish woman of indeterminate age sat at a semi-circular desk that looked as if it had erupted right from the stone floor. She smiled serenely at Jane.

“May I help you?”

“I’m Jane Selwyn. I have an interview with Mr. Remington at one o’clock.”

The receptionist, whose nameplate said she was Carol Washington, looked at Jane with sympathetic brown eyes. “Didn’t you get my message?”

Oh, no. Her cell phone had run out of juice just before lunch. Currently it was charging in her car. “I didn’t check my voice mail,” Jane stated without apology. “Is there a problem?”

“Mr. Remington had to run out—some type of printing emergency. He told me to extend his apologies.”

“Oh.” Jane almost sagged with disappointment. “Can I reschedule, then?”

“Actually, Mr. Remington has already made a decision about the artist.”

“Without even interviewing all the candidates?”

Carol hesitated. “I’m sure he would look at your work as a courtesy.”

A courtesy? Like hell. He’d caused her divorce, or at least accelerated the timeline. The least he could do was give her a shot at the position. “I’ll just wait here until he returns.”

“Why don’t I make you another appointment,” Carol said smoothly.

So he could cancel that one, too? “I’d prefer to wait.” She was going to see Max Remington today, one way or another.

Carol nodded just as a door opened behind her and Max Remington appeared. “Carol, has John Canfield—” Surprise registered on his handsome face as he spotted Jane and recognized her. “Jane? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to interview for the artist position.”

“You’re Jane Selwyn? I thought your last name was Simone.”

Jane inhaled sharply. He was even better-looking than she remembered. After a few months in Port Clara he’d acquired a golden tan, and his unruly hair had turned more blond than brown.

He wore neatly pressed jeans riding low on his slim hips and an open-collar shirt, no tie, no jacket, and she felt ridiculously overdressed. Few people wore suits in their laid-back beach community, but she’d thought it appropriate for an interview.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his lingering gaze said he approved, but not in a completely professional way.

Her face flushed. She told herself it was the weather.

“I changed back to my maiden name.” She’d wanted nothing to remind her of Scott.

“I told Ms. Selwyn that the job was already filled,” Carol put in.

Max quickly overcame his surprise and smiled, revealing even, white teeth. “It’s great to see you again.”

Jane stood, fumbling her portfolio before she could extend her hand to accept his warm handshake. “I’m surprised you would make a decision without interviewing all of the candidates.”

“Well, now, I was leaning toward one applicant, but I haven’t made a final, final decision yet.”

Carol peered at him skeptically over her half-moon reading glasses.

“Why don’t you come back to my office,” Max continued. “Pardon the mess—the workers are still putting in the finishing touches.”

Mess was right. Men were laying carpet in the hallway, painting walls, installing light fixtures. Jane had to dodge ladders, sawhorses and paint buckets, and once she nearly tripped because her attention was focused on her potential employer’s buns.

She’d sworn up and down to her ex-husband that she hadn’t been flirting with Max that fateful day of their first meeting a few months ago. But he’d certainly been flirting with her, and on some level she had responded to him. How could she not? How could any woman with a pulse not feel drawn to such a gorgeous male?

He held the door of his office open, and she entered. It was large but not ridiculously so and a little bit messy, but nothing like the hallway outside. At least it had carpet, paint and furniture.

He cleared off a small table and pulled out a chair for her. “Sorry to be so casual. My conference room furniture hasn’t arrived yet.”

“This is fine. You’re certainly doing up everything first-class.” She settled into the chair, again juggling her purse and portfolio. Why did she feel so awkward? As a corporate wife she’d been required to handle all kinds of social situations, from formal banquets to funerals to ladies’ coffee klatches, and she’d never had problems saying the right thing or fitting in. But now she second-guessed every word.

“Advertising is all about image.” He settled at the table across from her and placed her résumé, such as it was, in front of him.

“Your reception area certainly makes a statement.”

“You think it’s too much?” He sounded a bit worried.

Goodness, why would he care what she thought? “No, I think it’s lovely. I love the sound of moving water.”

“I guess you would, since you live on a boat.”

She wished he didn’t know quite so much about her already. But his cousin, Cooper, owned the fishing charter boat berthed next door to her, and she was close friends with Cooper’s wife, Allie. In fact, she and Max had both been in Cooper and Allie’s wedding, though they’d hardly exchanged two words. She’d been very subdued that day, wanting to feel happy for her friend but unable to shake her overall pessimism regarding marriage.

In addition to her living situation, Max also knew she was freshly divorced and a single mother—and that her millionaire ex-husband had a violent temper.

“Why don’t I show you my portfolio?” Jane said brightly, wanting to get it over with. She figured her work would speak for itself. Either he would see her talent and give her a chance, or he wouldn’t.

She unzipped the large, black leather case, a thoughtful graduation present from her parents, and opened it in front of Max. He flipped through it silently, scrutinizing each page.

“I’m not familiar with any of your clients. Can you tell me a little bit about them?”

“They’re mostly fictitious,” she blurted out.

“Excuse me?”

“Most of this work was done as class assignments. The businesses don’t exist. Remington Charters is the only real client I’ve ever had.” She had designed a logo for Allie’s fishing business before Cooper had come on the scene.

She expelled a long breath. There, she’d gotten the worst news out.

“Your résumé says you’ve been working freelance since you graduated.”

“A gross exaggeration to get me in the door,” she admitted. “If you want the absolute truth, I don’t have much experience. But I have talent, education and technical know-how.”

“Can you do video computer editing?”

She nodded firmly. “I did some video work in school. I’m sure the technology has advanced, but I can learn it. I’ll learn it on my own time.”

He looked at her, at her artwork, then back at her. He was going to reject her, that was obvious.

She leaned forward slightly. “Just give me a chance, Mr. Remington…Max. I won’t lie to you. I need this job. I’m already behind on my payments to the marina, and pretty soon they’re going to kick me out and…and I’ll just have to drift, I guess.”

Oh, God, she hadn’t meant to say all that. Please, sir, I want some more. Could she humiliate herself any further?

Max studied the woman sitting across from him. He’d been surprised as hell to find out she was Jane Selwyn. If he’d known, he never would have even scheduled an interview.

But now that she was here, he felt obligated to at least consider her for the position. After all, she’d gotten dressed up in that Queen Elizabeth suit for the occasion.

The first time he’d met her, she’d looked quite different. She’d been wearing a bikini, in fact. And what a bikini. Sure, bikinis were pretty much par for the course in Port Clara, but Jane wore hers better than any other he’d seen. In fact, he’d like to see—

He gritted his teeth. Best not to dwell on what she looked like under that suit. He tried desperately to think like a businessman.

Hiring Jane Selwyn would be illogical. He’d already interviewed a better-qualified candidate who was perfect. But though Carol was right that he’d made a decision, he hadn’t yet contacted the artist to offer the job.

He could still reconsider.

Jane’s portfolio showed talent, but it was decidedly amateurish. And despite the small-town atmosphere of Port Clara, he had no intentions of limiting his services to local used-car dealers and barbecue joints. He intended to compete with agencies from Houston—New York and San Francisco, too. Jane was so underqualified.

But the biggest reason of all not to hire her was what she did to him on a physical level. He’d never met a more beautiful woman. Not just your average beautiful, like a model or a beach bunny, but an ethereal, angelic beautiful. With her black, wavy hair, her high forehead and her lush red lips, she reminded him of one of those 1940s movie stars—Vivien Leigh, maybe.

Her husband had been right to punch Max in the face. Although he hadn’t made any outrageous come-ons when he’d first met her, his thoughts had been decidedly carnal, and good ol’ Scott had sensed it.

Max had been in the business world long enough to know that work and sex mixed together like nitro and glycerin. Workplace affairs caused no end of heartache, not to mention the loss of productivity. If he hired Jane, their relationship would have to be strictly business.

Of course, he’d decided long ago he would never act on his attraction—the minute he’d seen her darling, bright-eyed, blond-haired little girl.

Single moms were off-limits for Max. He didn’t need that lesson shoved down his throat again.

“I’ll work for free,” she said, breaking into his thoughts.

“Excuse me?”

“Give me a two-week trial, and you won’t have to pay me. We can call it an internship. Let me prove what I can do. I’ll work twice as hard as anybody you could possibly find. I won’t complain. I’ll take work home with me at night. I’ll…I’ll…” She trailed off as she apparently ran out of incentives.

Thank God she hadn’t offered fringe benefits with the boss, or he might have snapped up her offer.

As it was, he couldn’t help but consider what she had proposed. The one problem with the other artist was the salary he’d demanded. Launching this business had been far more expensive than Max had planned for. His cousin Reece, who was also his CPA, was having kittens over the cost overruns for the office remodeling. Getting free graphic arts services would help with his bottom line.

But he quickly nixed the idea. It wouldn’t be fair to Jane. She obviously needed a job, which meant she needed money, too. She had mouths to feed.

And he had to hire the best-qualified candidate.

Max stood, signaling an end to the interview. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Jane. As I said, I haven’t made a final decision yet, but I’ll let you—”

“You aren’t going to hire me, are you?”

“I’m still considering all—”

“My ex-husband and I finalized our divorce because of you,” she said abruptly. “You owe me.”

He hadn’t seen that coming. Cheeky move. “Oh, really? I thought I did you a favor.”

“No, actually, I did you a favor. If I hadn’t agreed to Scott’s rotten divorce terms, he was going to claim you and I had an affair and drag your name through the mud. He said he would ruin you and your business here in Port Clara before you even got started. And he could, believe me.”

Max sat back down with a thud. “I remember he made some threats, but I thought that was just heat-of-the-moment stuff. Did he actually think we were involved? Based on one conversation?”

Jane nodded. “He thought I was having affairs with everyone, from his brother to the pool boy. But in you, he found someone he could actually damage. And not just with his fists. He knew where you came from, all about your family. He could have caused you considerable embarrassment with his lies, if nothing else.”

“Why didn’t you let him? You barely know me. He couldn’t have proved anything.”

She blew out a breath and massaged her temples with two well-manicured fingers. “You seemed like a nice guy. You didn’t deserve to have Scott as an enemy. He wouldn’t have been able to prove anything, but by the time we went to court, the damage would have been done.”

They sat silently for a few moments. She was right—he did owe her. Still…

“I can’t believe I just did that,” Jane said finally. “Trying to force your hand. It was something Scott would do. Please, forget I even brought this up.” She stood and gathered her things. “I don’t want to be hired if I’m not the best qualified.”

“Wait a minute, Jane—”

“No, really, it’s okay. This never would have worked out, not with this history between us. I shouldn’t have even sent my résumé in. I’ll see myself out.”

She fled his office, and he let her go before he said or did anything he’d regret. He watched the way her hips moved when she walked, the little hitch that said she was only the hottest woman he’d ever met in his life. But he couldn’t think about that, he had to think about the big picture.

He felt sorry for her, he really did. She was obviously in dire straits if she would resort to using guilt to get him to hire her.

She had talent—lots of talent. She needed the job, which meant she would work hard to please Max and his clients. Her salary demands as outlined in her résumé were modest, unlike those of the candidate he’d been leaning toward.

Max took a sip from his coffee cup and grimaced when he realized it was left over from this morning and stone cold.

Had he really been a factor in Jane’s divorce? Allie was tight-lipped where Jane was concerned. But she’d given him the impression that Jane’s marriage had been on the rocks long before Max’s ill-fated flirtation that had resulted in a black eye and a fat lip.

Max sauntered into the reception area, where Carol presided over their only coffeepot. He’d ordered another one for the office break room, but it hadn’t yet arrived.

“What in the world did you do to that girl?” Carol asked. “She flew out of here like her hair was on fire.”

“We have a history,” Max said, hoping that would end the matter, but of course it didn’t. Carol always wanted to know everything that was going on and she had an unhealthy interest in Max’s love life. But she was very good at her job, juggling phone calls and packages, soothing ruffled feathers and keeping all those plants alive. She was a keeper, even if she was a tad nosy.

Carol removed her reading glasses and arched one well-plucked eyebrow at him. “I gathered that. I guess you aren’t going to hire her.”

“Actually…I’m thinking about it.”

“Mm-mm, Mr. Remington, are you letting your hormones make decisions for you? I’ll admit Jane Selwyn is a beautiful woman, but—”

“She’s very talented. And she needs the job.” That was something Carol should understand. She was recently divorced, too, and she hadn’t been the most qualified candidate, either. But he’d followed his instincts and hired her. His instincts seldom led him astray.

So what were his instincts telling him about Jane?

The jury was still out.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH for looking after Kaylee,” Jane told her friend Sara, who happened to be married to Reece Remington, another of Max’s cousins. Port Clara had experienced something of a Remington invasion back in the spring, when the three cousins had inherited the fishing business from their uncle.

Jane thought it rather peculiar that two of her best friends were now married to Remingtons, but they all seemed so happy. Around them, she always tried to reflect back that happily-ever-after feeling they both radiated.

“I’ll watch her any time.” Sara still held on to Jane’s three-year-old and seemed reluctant to turn her loose. “She’s so good. Plus, when I have my own kid I’m hoping you’ll return the favor.” Sara patted her tummy, though her pregnancy didn’t show at all yet.

Jane sighed and sank into one of the overstuffed chairs at the Sunsetter Bed-and-Breakfast, which Sara and Reece had recently bought. “How much could I make as a babysitter in Port Clara? That may be all that’s left for me.”

“So the interview didn’t go well?”

“It went about as badly as an interview can go. To start with, Max has already made a hiring decision. He saw me out of courtesy, probably because of my association with Allie and Cooper. But I lost it. I acted like a harpy. I told him he owed me because it was his fault…” She stopped abruptly, not wishing to talk about Scott or the divorce in front of Kaylee. Her daughter, almost four, was growing bigger and smarter every day. She was a sponge, soaking up everything she heard and often repeating it.

Sara understood anyway, and her eyes widened. “Jane, you didn’t.”

“It just came out of my mouth.”

“It wasn’t really Max’s fault…was it?”

“No. Scott and I were attempting a reconciliation that weekend, but it never would have worked. If it hadn’t been that incident, it would have been another.

“I know it’s all for the best. But that doesn’t change the fact that I need work and I just blew my last chance.”

“You know,” Sara said cautiously as she disentangled Kaylee’s grasping hands from her long, curly brown hair, “I could ask Reece to put in a good word—”

“No, please. This whole thing has been humiliating enough. I’m an intelligent, responsible adult with a college education. I should be able to get a job based on that. I refuse to use connections to get what I want. That’s too much like…well, you know.”

Sara sank into her own chair, shifting Kaylee onto her lap. “I was so sure that job would work out for you. You’re exactly what Max needs. Are you positive there’s no chance?”

“Max wouldn’t hire me if hell froze over.” She paused, then said something she’d only toyed with before today. “I’ll have to sell the boat.”

“Oh, no. You love the Princess II.”

“It’s an extravagance, and I can’t even sail it without help. If I sold it, I would have enough money to tide me over until I get on my feet.”

Jane’s cell phone rang and she immediately perked up, hoping it might be another job lead. She’d dropped résumés all over town, and even a few in Corpus Christi, though the larger city was almost an hour’s drive from Port Clara.

“Jane Selwyn.”

“Jane, it’s Max Remington. The job is yours if you want it.”