Читать книгу Predicting Rain? - Mary Wilson Anne - Страница 11

Jack knew the cat was at the loft to stay, at least until Zane and Lindsey’s lives calmed down a bit. The cat came and went as he pleased, and he only bothered with Jack when it came to food. Food ruled the cat, and the cat ruled his world as he perceived it. This morning he’d shown up and decided that it was time to eat, just as Jack was leaving the loft. Foolishly he’d gone to get the food, put it out for the cat, spilled some of the tuna on the sleeve of his jacket and had to change. All in all, it had made him more than fifteen minutes late getting to the office.

He’d barely come in the main entrance of LynTech when his cell phone rang and it was Eve. He’d been trying to make contact with her by something other than e-mail for the last two days, and now that she was on the line, he was rushed. He kept walking, and spoke into it, “Finally.”

“Yes, love, finally,” she said, her voice faintly tinny on the line. “I’ve been trying to catch you everywhere, and the cell phone number you gave me kept cutting off before it connected.”

“Well, I’m on another continent,” he said, nodding to the security guard at the front, a tall, well-built man in a tailored khaki uniform.

“I know. And that’s—”

A beep cut off her next word and he didn’t hear it. “Eve, I’ve got another call coming in. Let me call you when I get to my office. Where are you?”

“At Father’s.”

“Okay, give me ten minutes,” and he clicked over to the other call. But before he said anything, he heard a voice somewhere ahead of him. Her voice. Rain’s. He couldn’t make out the words, just that it was her voice, but when he looked up, he didn’t see her.

He hadn’t seen her again at the loft, either, and he’d thought she’d left with the old hippie for a trip. Someone on the bottom floor had said George was out of town, that he always took off like that. But for that single moment he’d been sure he’d heard her, then he’d realized how ridiculous that would have been. No one at LynTech would be walking around with bare feet, tie-dyed T-shirts or waist-length hair.

“Ford here,” he said into the phone as he stopped in the corridor by a set of brightly painted doors with Just For Kids on them.

It was Martin Griggs, the negotiator for EJS with LynTech. Jack pushed the elevator call button, hoped that he wouldn’t lose the signal in the car, and by the time he stepped out into the corridor, he’d forgotten about voices and was focused on business again. He assured Griggs that it wasn’t anyone at the top level of LynTech who let word of the deal leak out, and by the time he got to his office, Griggs had agreed to try to get E. J. Sommers in on a conference call.

Jack hung up, and put in a call to Quint Gallagher in New York, who was there for his son’s wedding. Gallagher had known E. J. Sommers in the past and he could be an edge for them. But all he got was a voice mail service and he left a message. He hung up, went into the office they’d given him for the duration and was just taking off his jacket when Rita Donovan, executive assistant to both Zane and Matt Terrell, came into his office.

“Mr. Ford,” the thin, dark haired woman said in her usual staccato voice. “I was looking for you. Mr. Holden needs to talk to you as soon as you’re in.”

“Okay,” he said as he put his suit coat over the back of his chair. “Where is he?”

“His office. His wife’s not feeling well, so he’s staying with her.”

“I’ll be down right away,” he said.

She turned to go, but stopped. “Oh, Mr. Ford, a Miss Ryder called about fifteen minutes ago. She’s been trying to reach you and couldn’t get through.”

He’d forgotten about calling Eve back, and that bothered him. He wasn’t sure why he thought it, but if he just talked to her for a while, some of the insanity that seemed to be falling into his life would disappear. “I need to call her back. Can Zane wait a few minutes?”

“I don’t think so,” she said.

He glanced at his watch and then at Rita. “Okay, could you call Miss Ryder and tell her I’ll get back to her within the hour?” He scribbled her number in London on a sheet of paper and crossed to give it to her. “And tell her I’m sorry.”

“Of course, sir,” Rita said as she took the paper, then left.

Jack only took enough time to print out a file he’d e-mailed to the office earlier, before he headed for Zane’s office. Once he arrived, he thought no one was there. Then he looked past the cluttered desk in the large office, into another room across the way. He didn’t know what the original purpose of that room had been, but it was being used as a playroom of sorts for Zane’s son, Walker.

But Walker wasn’t there. Zane was with Lindsey who was all curled up on a thick mat on the floor. Zane was beside her, rubbing her back and talking softly to her. “Zane?” Jack said, hating to interrupt, but knowing they had to talk.

Zane twisted, nodded to Jack, then leaned over his wife, said something to her, kissed her quickly and stood. He came out of the room, closed the door quietly and shook his head.

“I don’t know why they call it morning sickness, because she has it all the time.” The rangy man was in a plain white shirt, with its long sleeves rolled up on his forearms, and navy slacks. His sandy hair was mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it. “She had some tofu thing last night that Matt’s wife, Brittany, swore would stay down. Well, it didn’t,” he said as he crossed to the desk. “Nothing does.”

Jack always thought that Robert Lewis might have been angling to get him together with his daughter, Brittany, in the past, but despite the fact that she was beautiful, he’d avoided being anything more then friends with her. They had been around each other by default so many times, and Robert might have thought they were more than just friends. Robert was wrong. The Brittany he knew was flaky and self-centered, a woman who went through fiancées the way a lizard shed its skin. He’d probably been as shocked as Robert when she’d finally married Matt Terrell and actually settled down to her art career and a family that included a nine-year-old boy.

People changed. He knew Zane Holden had. The man he’d met before he married Lindsey, was vastly different from the one he was facing now. Business was still business, and he was good at it. But now his wife and child were his top priorities.

“I guess it’s rough,” he said, for lack of anything better to say about morning sickness. He couldn’t begin to imagine Eve in Lindsey’s condition. And it hit him that he’d never once envisioned Eve as a mother at all.

“Amen to that,” Zane dropped down in his chair. He sat forward, his elbows on the piles of papers sorted on the top of the desk and looked up at Jack. “How old is the little girl you’re taking care of?”

He had to think for a minute. “Four.”

Zane smiled slightly. “Cute age.”

Victoria was cute. Her mother had been pretty in a delicate way, and Victoria looked a lot like her mother. And Eve had said she was like a little doll. “Yes, a cute age,” he said, and put the papers he’d brought with him on top of the work Zane had been doing. “I got a call from Griggs,” he said, trying to get back to business and forget about why Eve and he hadn’t even discussed children. “I think he’s going to be able to get Sommers involved in this whole business.”

“Terrific,” Zane said, taking the printout Jack was offering him. “No way can we make this work with a middleman doing the talking and someone leaking the information before it’s set in stone.”

“I hope he can influence Sommers.”

“Word is, little influences E. J. Sommers beyond his play toys and a good party. You’d never guess the guy was a genius.” Zane sat back and glanced at the clock. “Matt should be back from court soon, then we can all sit down and go through this.”

“Court?”

“Nothing serious, just clearing up some things about the adoption of Anthony. As soon as he gets back here, we’ll—”

His words were cut off when Lindsey came out of the side room. Jack had seen Lindsey in February, around the time she’d found out she was pregnant and he’d thought she was pretty, in a slender, wispy way. But right then she looked miserable, her pregnancy showing despite the loose white shirt and leggings she was wearing. Her skin was as white as parchment, her eyes were smudged with shadows and an expression of discomfort etched her face.

“I’m so sorry,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “I know what you’re doing is really important, but I can’t stay here. I need to go home.”

Zane moved quickly, crossing to put his arm around her protectively and spoke in a low voice, “That tofu was a huge mistake.”

She looked up at him, and surprisingly there was a faint smile on her pale lips. “Now you tell me.”

He hugged her to him and spoke to Jack over her head. “Do me a favor and cover for me here until Matt gets back from court. Let Rita know I’m going home, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours?”

“No,” Lindsey said, protesting weakly. “I can go by myself.”

Zane acted as if she hadn’t spoken and when he did, Zane saw the morning going down the tubes. “I’ve got a call coming in from Tokyo,” Zane said over his shoulder as he helped Lindsey walk to the private elevator set off to the right in the room.

“Shegata?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. He’s got information on EJS that he thinks we might be able to use.” Zane pushed the button to go down to the parking garage and the door opened immediately. He and Lindsey got in, then he turned with his wife in his arms and looked back at Jack. “You can work in here, and take the message. Just plug into the network. Matt should be back within the hour.”

“Take care,” Jack said as the elevator door slid shut.

The door had just closed when the phone rang on Zane’s desk. He reached for it, expecting the Japanese call, but it was Rita and she was obviously surprised to hear him answering Zane’s private line.

“Mr. Ford?”

He explained about Zane and she didn’t sound surprised. In fact, she said, “I’m impressed that she lasted this long.”

Jack was impressed that Lindsey had even thought she could come into the offices in her condition. “I’ll be in here working, so send Mr. Terrell in when he arrives.”

“No problem, but I was ringing to let you know you have a call on line five. I called Miss Ryder, finally got through, and she insisted that she had to talk to you right away.”

He didn’t like the feeling he was getting. Eve usually respected business, no matter what. “Put her through,” he said.

The next thing he knew, Eve was on the line, that breathy voice, the slight pout in her tone. It was good to hear her voice again, but he’d been right to feel that something had to be wrong when she started with, “I’m sorry to have to insist on talking to you, but things on this end are in a mess.”

He glanced at the clock. It was late at night in London. His stomach tightened. “Is something wrong with Victoria?”

“Not with the girl, exactly. It’s Mrs. Ferris.”

Jack hadn’t had an e-mail from the woman this morning and had actually been relieved after ploughing through three or four every day since he’d left. “What is it?”

“Her sister’s having an operation and she’s the only one who can help her. She gave notice that she’s taking off very soon. She’s in quite a tizzy and you need a new nanny.”

He was actually relieved when she got to the bottom line. A new nanny? He didn’t like the idea of Victoria having to get used to another nanny so soon, but Eve would be there and it wouldn’t be for more than a few weeks. “Okay, as long as you’re there, a new nanny isn’t the end of the world.”

“It’s not that simple, love.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Then tell me why not?”

“I’m not going to be here myself.”

“What?”

“Well, I was bored without you here, and Sonny and Lex asked me to go to their place in Acapulco. They’re expecting me and they made plans. I thought that since Mexico is close to Texas, I could go down there, get some relaxation, then when you’re done there, you could fly down to meet me and well…”

This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped. “What about Victoria?”

“Well, there’s no way she can go along with me, nanny or not. I mean, Sonny and Lex have those horrid little dogs and I don’t think any of them like children. But, don’t worry. The service that sent Mrs. Ferris says they don’t have one for a permanent position at this time, but they can send temporary staff, maybe for a day or two at a time, and they said they’ll be sure that someone will always be here.”

He’d thought that going on holiday was to include Victoria, but if she was in London with a round-robin of baby-sitters, Eve in Acapulco and him here…no, that wouldn’t work. He couldn’t do it. This wasn’t what he’d promised Ian and Jean at all. “What do they mean, someone will always be there, moving around every day or two? What are we talking about, nanny musical chairs?”

She laughed, a throaty sound that jarred him. He wasn’t trying to be funny. “Oh, love, don’t be ridiculous.”

Ridiculous was a child being cared for by different people every day. “Isn’t there someone who can be with Victoria for the full time, then fly her over for the vacation?”

“Well, there is a nanny that the Kents had a few years ago, but they didn’t keep her long. She’s okay, but they didn’t like her all that well. But she’d probably do in a pinch.”

He wasn’t going to pawn Victoria off on some nanny who was sub par, and it bothered him that Eve thought that was even an option. “No, that won’t do.”

He heard Eve’s exasperated sigh. “Well, Mrs. Ferris says she has to be out of here in three or four days at the latest, so what choice do you have? Oh, I know, your mother!”

That idea never even saw the light of day with him. “No, not Mother.” She was busy somewhere in Italy, and she had barely responded to his situation with Victoria. “Get a good nanny,” had been all she’d said. He knew that when his father had passed away, she’d been stunned, but determined to keep living the life she wanted to live. He’d made sure she could, but he never looked to her as a source of support for him. He’d never known a time when she’d been strong or independent. And nothing had changed in the past ten years.

“Then what do you want?” Eve asked.

He’d never thought of himself as chauvinistic, but right then, he really wanted Eve to say she’d stay with Victoria and be there for her until they could meet for a vacation. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Part of him worried that their marriage would not exactly be smooth sailing. Right now, the only options he had were to have Victoria stranded in London with another stranger or the option he knew he had to choose. He took a breath then said words that he barely had time to measure. “Bring her here on your way to Mexico.”

“What?” Eve sounded shocked, as if he’d told her to walk on water.

“You’re flying to Acapulco, so make a stopover in Houston and bring her with you.”

She laughed again, but this time there was little humor in it. It was more nervous disbelief. “Are you bonkers? How can you take care of her and do your job?”

He didn’t have a clue, but he said, “I’ll work it out. Just get Mrs. Ferris to pack Victoria’s things, then let me know when your flight arrives.”

“Okay,” she murmured. “But what about our holiday after you’re done there?”

He couldn’t even think about that. “We’ll work it out.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said softly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Suddenly the idea of Eve in Houston was very tempting. If she could stay over a day or so, to get Victoria settled and to spend time with him, that wouldn’t be all bad. “Let me know when you’re arriving.”

“We’ll try to get out of here in three days. And, Jack?”

He had things to do, and his mood shifted. He wanted to get off the phone and get on with things. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

He closed his eyes again. “I know.”

“No, love, you’re supposed to say, ‘I love you, too.’ If you love me.”

He exhaled and felt the tension building inside him. “Love you,” he said.

“No, say, ‘I, Jack, love you, Eve,’ the way most fiancées would do.”

“Eve, not now,” he said tightly.

“Okay,” she said. “I can wait.”

He exhaled. “Call?”

“Sure. As soon as I know. Now I have to make the child understand what’s going on. Not that I think she understands much of anything. But I’ll try…just for you.”

Victoria understood, he didn’t doubt that. She just didn’t react to anything. He wished there was some way to get into her mind to see what was going on. “You’re terrific.”

“Absolutely, and remember that,” Eve said, then the line went dead.

He slowly hung up, and tried to figure out where to start. Zane was gone, Matt hadn’t shown up yet. Rita. He could ask her about nannies or baby-sitters. She seemed to be indispensable to both Matt and Zane. Maybe she could find someone to step in and be with Victoria, and possibly get something set up in the loft for the little girl. If he had to, he’d move to another place, as long as he could be hooked up to the office wherever he went.

He turned to go and find Rita, but stopped in his tracks, stunned to see Rain standing in the open door of Zane’s office, watching him. It was as if the thought of the loft had conjured her up, making her materialize not more then ten feet away from him. But he could see her breathing, could almost catch a hint of that flowery essence that clung to her. She was very real.

Rain. With her hair sleekly pulled back form her finely boned face, exposing how large her eyes were, he could see a faint suggestion of freckles dusting her small nose. She was in tailored dark slacks, an almost prim white top and—he looked down—no bare feet. White dress sandals. Even without her tie-dyed T-shirt and loose hair, she didn’t look as if she belonged here at all.

Rain faced Jack Ford from the doorway to Zane Holden’s office, and knew that his shock at seeing her had been as great as her shock seeing him moments ago. She’d expected Lindsey Holden, a woman who had almost attained sainthood in the eyes of the people she’d just talked to. Even the personnel man had almost waxed poetic about how much the woman had done for the day-care center.

But it wasn’t Lindsey she was facing now. It was the man she’d heard on the phone moments earlier, his back to her, speaking in a low voice. She’d watched the way his shoulders tested the fine fabric of his silky shirt when he took a breath, then said, “Love you.” They must have been said to his fiancée, but they were said with something of a throwaway. As if they weren’t nearly as important to him as they should be.

Now he was looking right at her. Actually, he was looking her over. From her head to her feet, then back to her face, and she couldn’t begin to read his thoughts. She hated it when a person was so closed that you had to guess at what they were thinking and feeling.