Читать книгу The Daddy Dilemma - Kate Denton, Kate Denton - Страница 7

CHAPTER ONE

POISED to present her case, Mackie stood in the center of the courtroom. Surreptitiously, she glanced at her adversaries seated at a table a few feet away. Gordon Galloway and his pack of attorneys from Alexander, Mott and Percy were awesome to behold. Talk about overkill. You’d think Galloway was taking on Microsoft.

“Your Honor,” Mackie began, directing her remarks to the judge, “as our petition affirms, my client’s ultimate goal is shared custody of her daughter. However, she wants to be the first to acknowledge past mistakes and seeks to redeem herself. That’s why I’m submitting a new motion.

“Rather than addressing the custody issue, all we ask from the court today is that Beth Galloway be allowed visitations every other weekend for the next six months, that she be given an opportunity to bond with her child and to establish herself as a fit mother.”

The stunned silence emanating from the opposing attorneys told Mackie that reactions were precisely as she’d anticipated. By admitting weakness and asking for less than expected, she had robbed the Galloway team of its chance to beat up on her client.

From Judge Fillmore, Mackie saw a spark of interest in her request. It was already midmorning and an overloaded docket lay ahead of him. The possibility of quickly dispensing with one matter had to be tempting.

“Give me a moment to read the motion,” the judge said.

Mackie used the opportunity to study Beth’s ex-husband. Earlier she’d spared him scant attention, noting little about his appearance beyond the fact that his medium brown hair was modishly cut. Now she had her chance for a better look.

One wouldn’t call him handsome in the conventional sense—his longish face rather angular, no-nonsense wire-rim glasses framing his eyes, his cropped hair ruffled from repeated hand raking. At the same time, something about Galloway made her want to step closer and take stock. Maybe the earnest gaze or the vivid blue eyes that even glasses and distance couldn’t hide. There was something understatedly sexy about the man. It was easy to see how an innocent like Beth could have been taken in.

The second the judge laid down Mackie’s documents, Sonia Mott, one of Galloway’s attorneys, rose to object, only to be cut off in mid-diatribe.

“Have you got some current evidence that shows this mother to be a danger to the child?” the judge interrupted.

“Well...”

“What do you call deserting a newborn?” Gordon Galloway barked in a voice that went all the way to the bench.

“Counselor, control your client,” the judge instructed sternly, sending Galloway and his team a stare strong enough to peel paint off the walls. “Petitioner’s request is granted. Alternate weekend visitation is temporarily established and further consideration of this matter is postponed for six months. At such time professional assessments will be made.” With that, he pounded his gavel, announced a brief recess and left the courtroom.

“We won!” Beth squeezed Mackie’s forearms in celebration, then her eyes shot past Mackie’s, her lips easing into a sly grin as she zeroed in on her former husband.

Mackie could appreciate her client wanting to gloat a little. But it wasn’t wise to toss gasoline on an already-combustible situation. She nudged Beth toward the door. “Get on to that job of yours and I’ll negotiate the logistics for Ashley.”

After listening stonily to arrangements for relinquishing his child the coming weekend, Gordon walked out with his lawyers as far as the elevators, then pointed at the water fountain, indicating they were to continue on without him. He took a couple of gulps to wash down the bile in his throat. Had his outburst caused the judge to rule in Beth’s favor? If it were physically possible, Gordon would kick himself from here to the end of the hall for losing his composure like that.

Normally he displayed the calm, thoughtful demeanor befitting the college professor he was. For a few moments in there, however, he’d been like a child in the throes of the terrible twos—unable to restrain his emotions. But dammit, this was about Ashley. It was torture having her welfare, her future, resting in the hands of others.

I can’t leave it like this! Charging back toward the courtroom where Mackie Smith remained behind, Gordon pushed open the door. She was just coming out and he almost collided with her, felt her hand pressing against his chest to avoid bodily contact.

Determined to get himself in control, Gordon retreated a step, bracing himself against one of the courtroom pews. “I tried offering Beth a settlement but she refused,” he began, breathlessness from anger and the too-close encounter vibrating in his voice. “Obviously my offer wasn’t enough. So please tell me how much she’s holding out for and we can move to end this charade.”

Mackie was taken aback, not sure what bothered her more—Galloway’s reappearance or the physical contact between them. That brief touch was as electrifying as those incredible blue eyes...eyes she could now see were framed by lush sable lashes. Her equilibrium wasn’t helped, either, by this revelation about a settlement offer. News to her—Beth hadn’t said a word. But that wasn’t what mattered at the moment. What mattered was putting some distance between herself and Gordon Galloway. “Really, Mr. Galloway, this isn’t appropriate.”

He gave her an irritated roll of the eyes. “Neither is your farce of a lawsuit. I repeat, how much?”

“Beth isn’t after your money.”

“The hell she isn’t. Aren’t you a tad suspicious that Beth’s interest in her daughter comes to life immediately after my inheritance from a rich aunt? Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Coincidences do happen,” Mackie said, trying to stifle her own irritation. “And even if everything you’re saying is true, the fact remains that we’re not supposed to speak without one of your attorneys being present. Goodbye.”

She brushed past him and made for the bank of elevators, stepping inside an empty car. The doors were closing when he reached a hand in and forced them apart, then leaped aboard.

“Our conversation is over, Mr. Galloway.”

“Oh, no, it isn’t.”

Mackie didn’t respond. She punched at the lobby floor button and glowered malevolently at him.

Gordon could easily read in her scowl what she was thinking. The man is pure gall. Well, yes he was—with no apologies. He could be as pushy and obstinate as a salesman on commission when it came to Ashley.

Prissy thing this Mackie Smith was, all puffed up with righteous indignation. If it weren’t for that frown and those lips pressed tightly together, she could be quite a knockout. Her figure was stylishly slender, and those green eyes brought emeralds to mind. All in all, though, a bit too flawless for his taste—every hair in place, makeup expertly applied, nails neatly manicured and polished a soft pink. A Neiman-Marcus mannequin come to life. That, or a well-dressed robot.

Galloway, are you crazy? The woman is your enemy Under the circumstances, her looks rank a zero in importance. Focus man. “Beth’s conniving and materialistic,” he declared, back on track with Mackie. “She’s pretending to want custody in the hope I’ll pay her off to drop the suit and go away. Turning down my first offer was simply part of her game.”

Mackie maintained her silence and rigid posture, making him even madder. If this stance was meant to discourage, then she’d sorely underestimated the level of his determination. Gordon snatched open the elevator’s control box and pushed a button. The car lurched to a halt.

Her frown deepened into a full-fledged glare. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to make you see how it is!”

“Again, this isn’t appropriate, Mr. Galloway.”

“Appropriate be damned. We’re not talking Ms. Manners here. This is about a father fighting like all get-out for his daughter.”

Mackie reached for the release button, but he held the panel shut, preventing access.

“Mr. Galloway! You’re wasting your time with me. I’m not going to argue the merits of this case with you in an elevator. I’ll give you just five seconds to get us moving again before I start screaming my lungs out for a guard.”

“OK, OK,” he said, throwing up his hands. “I should have known you were too stubborn to reason with. I was hoping to save myself a heap of frustration and spare you some embarrassment. But if you want to play the fool, fine.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck.

Mackie opened her mouth to yell just as Galloway released the emergency stop button. “Save your vocal cords, lady. You’ll need them for court when you start attempting to defend the indefensible. You may have prevailed in round one, but the battle is just starting. And,” he added, “be aware that I’ll do whatever it takes to hang on to my child.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“No, just a friendly warning.”

At that moment the doors opened on the ground floor and Galloway stormed off the elevator, leaving Mackie to gape after him. Friendly? If that was a friendly warning, she’d hate to be on the receiving end of an unfriendly one.

This guy was unbelievable—a real loose cannon. Sounding off to the judge, waylaying her in the courtroom, holding her captive in an elevator...speaking of which... People getting on made Mackie aware she’d better exit unless she planned to spend the day riding up and down. She walked to her car in the parking lot, still fixated on Galloway.

Loose cannon or not, he seemed so sure of his position, so adamant that Beth was not what she made herself out to be. Could he even be half right? Could money possibly be on Beth’s agenda? If so, why had Beth never so much as hinted that she sought part of her ex-husband’s recent financial windfall? If it was important, why hadn’t she revealed that she’d already been offered a share?

No, Galloway was simply shooting off his mouth, talking when he should have kept silent. What Mackie had just witnessed was the bruised pride of a wounded Texas male. His ego, battered by the desertion of his wife, had overridden his ability to think clearly and created a need to strike back. She must concentrate on that and not let him undermine her relationship with her client.

After all, Beth hadn’t tried to sugarcoat her role in her predicament. She claimed her actions had been triggered by postpartum depression, yet she hadn’t let herself off the hook. From day one, she’d owned up to irresponsible behavior. But simply because she’d misbehaved—even grievously—in those early weeks of motherhood was no excuse for Gordon Galloway’s punishing her by forever withholding her child. Beth had a right to be with her daughter and Ashley had a right to know her mother. As for Galloway’s rights—well, let Alexander, Mott, et cetera worry about them. Mackie had her own problems.

“What if he doesn’t bring her?” It was five minutes until six on Friday and Beth was planted in front of the window of the conference room adjacent to Mackie’s office, monitoring the parking lot for incoming cars.

“He will.” Mackie spoke more with bravado than conviction. During the proceedings and afterward, Galloway had acted mad enough to take the law into his own hands and defy a court order. Or to keep the opposition waiting till the last minute simply for the devilment of it. She glanced at her watch. Five fifty-nine now.

A knock sounded at exactly six. He must have been parked on the street. “You’re here,” Mackie said, her throat catching at the sight of the picture before her—Galloway carrying a precious little girl.

“Regrettably,” he said solemnly, his attitude bringing her back to earth.

She opened the door wider and gestured toward the conference room, studying the two as she followed behind.

The toddler was dressed in a pink coat trimmed with fake fur. Beneath the matching pink hat curled soft brown ringlets. Her blue eyes, exact copies of her father’s, took in Mackie from her shoulder-high view.

Beth stood transfixed at the back of the room as Gordon shifted a diaper bag off his shoulder onto the conference table. Neither spoke to the other.

Mackie walked over and urged Beth forward. “Come greet your daughter.”

Seemingly afraid to get too close to Gordon or Ashley, Beth tentatively approached. She reached out to take the baby from Gordon.

As if programmed by her father, Ashley let out a howl the instant Beth touched her. But instead of turning into the familiar male shoulder, the little girl flung herself toward Mackie’s arms. Mackie, nonplussed, gingerly took Ashley and held her as one might cradle a large cactus plant. “There, there,” she said uncomfortably, aware of Galloway’s scrutiny as she tried shifting the bundle to her hip.

“Lord help me,” he growled. “Give her back before you drop her. You’re as bad as your client—” he cast a menacing glance at Beth “—neither one with the maternal instincts of a cuckoo bird.”

For a moment Mackie reeled from the tongue-lashing, but then managed to regain her poise. “Insults won’t make this any easier, Mr. Galloway,” she huffed, again shifting the load in her arms and leaning her head out of reach of the curious little fingers trying to snag a gold earring.

“OK, I’ll keep quiet. Just give her to me.”

Mackie refused to relinquish the baby to him, defiantly handing her to Beth instead. Ashley’s lips curved down at the exchange but at least she didn’t start wailing again. Turning back to Galloway, Mackie announced crisply, “We won’t keep you any longer. This transaction is complete.”

“Transaction?” Galloway’s face darkened ominously. “Is that how you see it—a transaction?” He gave a puff of disgust. “Man. You and Beth are definitely kindred spirits.”

“And you’re a sore loser. What say we give the put-downs a rest and you be on your way? Beth has waited a long time for this reunion with her daughter. Why don’t we let them get to it?”

“Right...a long time,” he said, sparing no sarcasm. Then his shoulders seemed to sag a little in defeat. “I’ll be available all weekend if you need me, Beth. I’ve brought some clothes and toys, and a list of things she likes and dislikes. I’ll leave her car seat with the guard downstairs...oh, and here...”

Placing two business cards on the table, he slid one Beth’s way and one toward Mackie. “My home and cell phone numbers are on the back. I expect to be notified immediately if there’s the slightest problems.”

“There won’t be,” Mackie answered optimistically, motioning Gordon toward the door. He put a hand up to wave to his daughter, then departed.

“Well, thank heavens that’s over,” she said, smiling to Beth once he was gone. The smile faded immediately as Mackie moved her gaze to Ashley whom Beth had set on the conference table. In that brief period of time the child had upended a silver carafe, which was sending rivulets of water toward the business cards. Beth seemed oblivious to the spill.

“Better get those cards,” Mackie admonished. “While they’re still readable.” All hell would break loose if something happened to Ashley and Galloway weren’t informed.

Compliantly Beth reached for Ashley and the cards.

“Now let’s get you down to the car so you can spend the next two days getting acquainted.” Mackie started gathering up the paraphernalia. “You’re in charge now,” she said, turning to Beth.

Beth, who should have been euphoric, wore a dazed expression. “I can’t believe it’s happened. I expected something else to go wrong at the last minute, to...to...”

“Everything’s gone exactly as intended, so you can rest easy.”

Beth cleared her throat. “Not exactly everything.”

“Is there a problem?” Mackie asked. “Something you haven’t told me? I’m aware of Gordon’s settlement offer. Is it that?”

Beth’s eyes seemed to become shuttered. “No, not that.” She slid into a chair, Ashley on her lap. “I’m almost afraid to tell you.”

Mackie patted her arm comfortingly. “Don’t be silly—there’s nothing you can’t share with me. And whatever it is, we can handle it.” Mackie held her breath. Despite her encouraging words, she had a feeling she didn’t want to hear this.

“I was hoping you’d say that, but I’m in your debt so much already. I owe you big time, Mackie. Your support, your—”

Mackie signaled whoa. “We can’t start handling it until I know what’s wrong.”

“I need you to watch Ashley for me.”

“What!”

“I have to go back to the restaurant. You know I’m not supposed to work weekends...but there’s a big party scheduled...then Tammy called in sick...so there’s no one to act as hostess, manning the reservations desk, greeting people and seeing them to their tables. Rick told me I have to be there. If not, he’ll fire me. It’s just for a few hours. I’ll be off by ten or ten-thirty. But I can’t lose this job.”

Mackie panicked. Just a few hours?—might as well be a few years. She knew next to nothing about babies. Why, up until ten minutes ago, she’d never even held one. She wasn’t antikids—they just weren’t part of her life. Years ago she’d decided on career over motherhood.

“I don’t do children,” she said to Beth. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier so we could have postponed—”

“Postponed?” Beth’s voice took on a strident note. “Gordon would have loved that, now wouldn’t he? Just prove everything he’s been saying about me is true. You know I don’t have anyone else—no girlfriends, no family here—so please, please, please, can you look after Ashley this evening?” Beth reached out and grasped Mackie’s hand.

Mackie sighed. She’d promised to go the distance with Beth. What could she do but agree?

Ashley was cute to look at, but about as easy to control as a young chimpanzee. From the second Mackie had arrived at her town house with the toddler in tow, the latter had been expressing her displeasure with the arrangement. She’d turned up her nose at dinner, rebelled at having her diaper changed and refused to stay in the playpen Mackie had borrowed from a neighbor, preferring to roam around the unfamiliar territory.

Pricey art books, marble fruit and crystal obelisks now cluttered the mantel, secure from Ashley’s reach. Although by now Mackie would willingly sacrifice any one of them to Ashley’s mayhem if that would keep the baby from sobbing and pitifully begging for her “Da Da” the way she was doing.

“Don’t cry. Please stop crying.” Mackie cast her eyes upward in supplication. Where are you, Beth?

Pacing the floor with the fussy baby in her arms, Mackie noticed the warmth of her skin. She leaned her head back for a better view of the child’s face. It was flushed and tearstained. “Is it too hot in here? Or do you have a fever?” Don’t you dare have a fever.

At eleven-thirty, every shred of patience and energy exhausted, Mackie called the restaurant. “Beth Galloway, please.”

“Sorry, ma’am. Beth’s gone.”

Mackie hung up the phone. Hallelujah! Beth’s on her way.

For thirty more minutes Mackie circled the room and watched the time crawl by. Where was Beth? What could she possibly be doing? An accident perhaps. Or maybe she’d forgotten and gone home. She dialed Beth’s apartment. No answer. Of course Beth hadn’t forgotten—something was definitely wrong.

The waiting was getting intolerable. Ashley crying... Mackie worrying now about both Ashley and Beth.

Finally deciding she could no longer put off the inevitable, Mackie placed a weepy Ashley in the playpen with a bottle of milk to distract her, then fished out Gordon Galloway’s card from her briefcase and dialed his number.

“Mr. Galloway, this is Mackie Smith, Beth’s attorney. I know it’s late, but—”

“Has something happened to Ashley?”

“I don’t think it’s anything serious but she may be running a fever. If you’ll give me directions to your home, I’ll bring her there right away.”

“Did you take her temperature?”

“Uh, no. Not yet.”

“Did you even think about it?”

“No, frankly I didn’t. I’ve been too busy walking the floor with her the last four hours.”

“Give me the address. It’ll be quicker for me to come there.”

Mackie rattled off her street name and number.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He hung up before Mackie had a chance to say another word.

When the phone rang seconds later, Mackie guessed it was Galloway asking for directions. But it was Beth.

“Mackie, it’s me.”

“Beth, where are you? I’ve been frantic.”

“I’m fine...it’s a long story.”

Mackie, frazzled and not mollified by Beth’s non-answer, snapped, “Then give me the condensed version.”

“Uh-oh, I was afraid you’d be upset.”

“Upset? You might say that. First you spring the news you have to work, then you don’t come when you say you will—”

“My car stalled on the freeway, Mackie. I’ve been stranded for over an hour praying for someone to stop and help. A policeman’s here now and we’re waiting for a tow truck.”

“Jeez...that’s scary.” The thought of what could have happened when Beth’s clunker of a car gave out sent a chill through Mackie.

“Tell me about it,” Beth groaned. “But you all are OK, aren’t you?”

“Ashley’s restless. I think she may be running a fever.”

“Probably just a minor thing,” Beth replied. “Listen, I don’t know how long this will take and it’s late already. I think it’d be best for you to keep Ashley until morning. Oh, the wrecker’s here, gotta go.”

“Don’t hang up!” But the plea was too late. For the second time in less than ten minutes, Mackie heard only a dial tone at the end of a telephone line.

Gordon had grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and raced out to the garage within seconds of ringing off from Mackie Smith. He hoped he could drive, unnerved as he was by this turn of events. He’d wanted Ashley back, but not this way. What was going on with his baby? He had heard her whimpers in the background.

At least luck was partially on his side. It was late, but he was still dressed, so he hadn’t been delayed throwing on clothes. And Mackie’s place wasn’t that far away.

Mackie opened the front door of her town house just as Gordon’s finger started to hit the bell. “Where’s Ashley?” he demanded, rushing inside.

“Shh.” Mackie put a finger to her lips. Together she and Gordon tiptoed toward the middle of her living room where Ashley lay in the playpen, rump in the air, thumb in her mouth, sound asleep. “She’s fine now.”

Gordon bent over, gently placing the back of his hand on Ashley’s forehead. Her brow was cool. He straightened up. “No fever and her coloring’s good. Probably just upset over having her life upended.” A flinty glare punctuated the gibe to ensure that it wouldn’t escape Mackie’s notice.

Reassured that Ashley was indeed fine, Gordon looked around. Something was wrong with this picture. “Where in Hades is Beth? Why’s Ashley here with you?” He’d been too scared before to question why Mackie Smith was the one who had called him. Now he wanted some answers.

“Uh...there was an unavoidable emergency.”

“...‘an unavoidable emergency,’” he repeated. “Right...I’ll just bet.” A pause, then a derisive chuckle. “You’ll find Beth’s whole life is a series of ‘unavoidable emergencies.’ Another one of those endearing foibles of hers I tried to tell you about. Beth’s a manipulator, using everything and everybody to get what she wants. Believe me, I could cite chapter and verse—”

Mackie gave an impatient sigh. “I’m sure you’re relishing this opportunity to throw in a few more slurs about Beth, but it’s been a long day and I’m too tired to spar with you right now.”

Gordon heard the weariness in her voice and almost felt sorry for her. This was not the poised, self-confident woman he’d dealt with earlier. A few hours ago she’d been bandbox perfect—tailored wool suit, shiny gold earrings, spotless black pumps. Then, he’d come close to hating her—and her ability to tear his and his daughter’s life into shreds without breaking a sweat. This woman looked exhausted and vulnerable. Stained silk blouse hanging loose over her skirt, one earring missing, shoes off and a gaping run snaking up a leg of her sheer stockings. Quite a contrast.

She became aware of his assessment, smoothing back her mussed hair and tucking in her blouse. “Well...” she began, “guess it was only a false alarm. Go back home. We’ll be OK.”

Gordon cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

“You saw for yourself, Ashley isn’t sick. Sorry I bothered you, but there’s no point in your hanging around.”

“I won’t be ‘hanging around.’ I’m taking my daughter home.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Try and stop me.”

“You know full well I can’t, but the judge’s order can.”

“Nice try, Ms. Smith. Only the order says Ashley’s mother has visitation privileges this weekend. It says nothing about some hired hand laying claim to her. Besides, an hour ago you were ready to bring her to me.”

“Things have changed since then.” Mackie’s brain raced. “Surely you know the position you’re placing me in.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t get overly concerned with your ‘position.’”

“OK then, think about yourself. From where I’m sitting, Judge Fillmore isn’t all that fond of you. He isn’t keen on being sassed in court. Whether or not Beth violated the terms of her visitation—and that remains to be seen—if you take Ashley, then you will be too. Do you want to chance riling the judge even more, and possibly strengthening Beth’s hand when we do pursue joint custody?”

Gordon seemed to mull that one over. And while he was, Mackie added, “Besides, Ashley is down for the night Why wake her up when she’s already had a bad evening?”

More mulling on Gordon’s part. “I’m not about to walk out of here without my daughter. Yet you do have a point about not waking her up.” Gordon wasn’t about to concede any other points. “I’ll just camp out until Beth shows up.”

“No way. I must insist—”

“Insist till doomsday. I’m not leaving my daughter in the care of a stranger who clearly doesn’t know much about small children. Unless you think you’re strong enough to throw me out.”

“I wish.”

“Then you have a choice—either you get Beth over here pronto or I stay the night.”