Читать книгу Celebration's Family - Nancy Thompson Robards - Страница 8

Chapter Two

Joy Thayer.

Holy cow. It all made sense now, Kate thought as she stood in the empty break room of the Macintyre Family Foundation offices. She wrapped her hands around a mug of steaming-hot tea, letting the comforting warmth seep into her fingers and melt away some of the morning’s stress.

Joy Thayer was Liam Thayer’s late wife.

No wonder he was bereft.

After the meeting, as she had been waiting for the elevator, she’d glimpsed a memorial plaque that was displayed alongside the pictures of the hospital’s board of trustees. She’d put two and two together as she was leaving the hospital, and had been haunted by the revelation ever since.

As much as she’d prepared for the presentation to the hospital’s senior staff members, she hadn’t planned on hitting a land mine like Liam Thayer. She wished that Dr. Dunlevy had informed her that she had a widower in the bunch—and not just any widower, Joy Thayer’s widower—before she’d so exuberantly rolled out the bachelor auction plan at the meeting.

Dr. Thayer had obviously still not come to terms with his wife’s death. Not that one ever fully recovered from something like that. Kate had experienced enough tragedy in her own life to understand.

Even though she’d only met Joy Thayer once—when the woman had single-handedly organized a fashion show luncheon to benefit the pediatric surgical wing early in the process—Kate had been touched by Joy’s untimely death. The entire population of the Dallas metropolitan area had gone into mourning.

Joy Thayer was the type of charismatic good soul that everyone wanted to know and loved instantly. She radiated warmth and charm. And, as if all that niceness and class weren’t enough, she had been gorgeous. One of the elements that Kate remembered best about Joy—besides her petite stature and fine-boned features—was the riot of strawberry-blond curls that hung halfway down her back. She had an effortless beauty that seemed to radiate from the inside out.

Now that Kate had had a chance to digest the situation, she wasn’t surprised that Joy had been married to a handsome guy like Liam. They had probably made the perfect couple: good-looking, well-off, well connected, popular. His disposition left a lot to be desired, but he’d suffered a rough time in the grips of that profound loss.

Kate swirled the English Breakfast tea bag in her mug, then tossed it into the trash can. How long had Joy been gone now? At least a couple years. But even though Kate’s encounter with the woman had been brief, Kate had a hunch that one didn’t easily get over Joy Thayer and move on.

For that reason she would cut Liam some slack, even though his boss was being hard-nosed about it.

As she made her way back to her office, she pondered how she could shift the fund-raiser to make Liam more comfortable. She didn’t want to turn down the publicity opportunity that being on Catering to Dallas would afford. And that hinged on the bachelor auction, which would be a good visual for television. Reaching that broad of an audience, they were bound to get generous donations from the television fans. Plus the other six bachelors seemed jazzed and ready to run with it. Before she’d left the meeting, some were even tossing about ideas for date packages and where they could take the lucky ladies who won them.

She couldn’t think of a better way to make a dent in the remaining one hundred thousand dollars that she still needed to raise. Maybe it was for lack of a better idea—or maybe because six of the seven single, handsome doctors were ready and willing to auction themselves off—but they had to proceed with the auction with or without Liam.

She knew it was the right move, the prudent business decision, but she wasn’t completely at peace with it.

She closed her office door and sank into her leather desk chair. Moving her mouse to activate her computer, she stared at the dark screen until the machine woke up from its nap.

I’m a widower with two teenage daughters.

Liam’s words had echoed in the recesses of her mind all the way back to the office. If it were up to her, he would get a free pass. But she knew his boss wouldn’t be keen on that thought.

After Liam had dashed off, Dr. Dunlevy had told her not to count Liam Thayer out. Whether that meant she should just count on the promised donation or his participation in the auction was still to be determined.

Yet Liam had taken her card and had given her the green light to call him at the office.

She would do that and pave the way. She just needed to come up with a plan that made everyone happy.

At twenty-nine, Kate had never been married. But she’d watched her own father sink into a dark funk after her mother had died. It was a depression from which he’d never fully recovered. Kate and her brother, Rob, had felt responsible for their dad. It had been a sad time in their lives, but they’d gotten through it together.

Dr. Thayer and Joy must have married young if his kids were teenagers. Yet he didn’t appear to be much older than Kate was.

Kate’s baby would’ve been five later this year if it had survived. It was a memory she’d tried to suppress since the topic of death and kids had come up this morning.

Actually she hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind, despite the way she’d tried to ignore the dull ache in her heart. All the more reason to find a viable way out of this plan for the good doctor. One that didn’t involve dates or leaving his kids at home.

She clicked on her email account, glanced at the full in-box, but she couldn’t bring herself to open any of the correspondence. She swiveled her chair toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, stared out at the Dallas skyline and let her mind wander far away from the memory of the child she’d lost.

Bachelor auctions. Think. Fund-raisers. Think harder.

Cullen Dunlevy hadn’t been thrilled with Liam’s steadfast refusal. So completely letting him off the hook seemed out of the question. And Dunlevy hadn’t seemed pacified by Liam’s offer to simply write a check. He wanted Liam to take an active role like his colleagues. She wasn’t sure why Dr. Dunlevy was so adamant about Liam participating, but she’d definitely observed some underlying tension.

It didn’t really matter.

Well, it shouldn’t anyway.

But it did. To her.

If someone as busy as Liam Thayer didn’t have the time—or the inclination—to auction himself off and go on a date, why was Dunlevy pressuring him? More important, what else could she come up with to make both men happy?

Emceeing wasn’t an option because Maya LeBlanc, international chocolatier and supposed matchmaker, was fulfilling that role. But what to do with Liam?

Too bad he was so adamant about not being in the auction. I would’ve bid on him, she mused as she meditated on the geodesic sphere atop Reunion Tower.

Suddenly she had a thought; something that just might get Dr. Thayer off the hook, if he was willing to be a good sport and play along.

She glanced at the time on the lower right-hand side of her computer. Since it was close to six o’clock, he was probably gone for the day, and she wouldn’t be able to reach him at the hospital. That was all right; it would give her some time to stew on the idea and make sure it was airtight. She’d give him a call tomorrow and see just how willing he was to put his money to good use.

* * *

Liam wholeheartedly supported the pediatric surgical wing—after all, the venture had been a project Joy was passionate about. But why did they have to do this asinine auction that would dishonor Joy’s memory, embarrass his daughters and make a mockery out of the loss and grief he’d suffered?

He wheeled the car into the driveway and glanced at the glowing dashboard clock. It was nearly eight o’clock; darkness was creeping in and spreading over the sky like a stain. He’d stayed at the hospital making his final rounds later than usual. It was times like these that made him grateful he had dependable Rosalinda. Nanny, housekeeper and cook extraordinaire.

His stomach rumbled at the thought of the food Rosie would have waiting, hot and ready for him when he walked in the door. At this hour the girls would’ve already eaten. He hated missing meals with them.

Rosalinda had picked them up at the ballet studio after their dance classes and had fed them. At least he could rest assured that they were in good hands with her. She was a kind, trustworthy woman. Someone with a benevolent heart and no ulterior motives.

As he pressed the garage door opener, his gaze slid to the rearview mirror where he had a perfect view of the yellow two-story house across the street. Kimela Herring’s house. Ever since letting Kimela get too involved with his family right after Joy had died, he was cautious when he left the house. Now he and Kimela mostly avoided each other.

He might have felt bad about having to set Kimela straight, except that she had broken a cardinal rule: she’d tried to use his daughters to get to him. What was worse, it had soon become clear that Kimela’s objective was to send the girls away so that the two of them could make a life together.

The stupid thing was that Liam hadn’t even seen it coming. He’d been so out of it after losing Joy that Kimela Herring had nearly rearranged his household before he’d figured out what she was up to, all in the name of being a good neighbor.

That wasn’t going to happen again. No way in hell. Calee and Amanda were thirteen years old. In five years they would be in college. In the meantime, the best thing he could do was to spend these years focusing on the girls and his patients.

He steered the car into the garage, pressed the button again, and watched the door moan and growl as it closed, eclipsing Kimela Herring’s house.

And his emotions froze up again. The initial anger had evaporated, leaving him feeling zilch. Nada.

Nothing.

Except for an underlying fierce protectiveness that nothing was going to hurt his girls any more than they’d already been hurt. If anyone tried, he would take them out. And he didn’t mean out on a date.

The thought had his mind skittering back to Kate Macintyre, and her offer to talk to him and help work out something. He sensed that she wasn’t the type to strong-arm him into participating. That was decent of her. More than decent, he thought as he let himself out of the car. But she’d get his donation for the surgical wing. Wasn’t the bottom line always what people were after?

She was obviously passionate about her job with her family’s foundation. It was refreshing to meet a woman who was interested in the greater good of the community rather than feathering her own nest like his manipulative neighbor.

As Liam opened the door leading into the kitchen, their mixed breed dog, Frank, barked a greeting and the aroma of something delicious welcomed him home. The smells made his mouth water.

“Hola, Dr. Thayer,” Rosalinda said. “Did you have a good day?”

He petted Frank. “Hi, Rosie. It was a tough day, but everything turned out okay. It’s good to be home. Thanks for staying. I’m sorry I’m so late. Where are the girls?”

The grandmotherly woman took a plate from the cabinet. “They are upstairs showering and then they will do their homework. It’s no problem to stay a little later. I’m happy to help you when I can. Are you hungry?”

“Rosie, you read my mind. Plus the smell of your delicious cooking could make anyone hungry. What’s for dinner?”

By the time Liam had washed his hands, grabbed his e-tablet and sat down at the table, Rosalinda had set a plate of homemade meat loaf, mashed potatoes and steamed green beans in front of him.

“Thanks, Rosie,” he said. “This looks delicious.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Thayer. I hope you enjoy it. I want you to know I made the cupcakes and left them for Amanda at school. She was very sweet. Hugged me and thanked me when I picked her up from her dancing lesson. You have a darling girl with a good heart. Two sweet girls, because Calee, she is a good girl, too.”

He was relieved that Amanda had thanked Rosie, especially when the generous woman had taken the time to make the treats from scratch rather than stopping by the bakery and buying them ready-made. Since losing her mother, Amanda, who had always been the more reserved of his twins, could sometimes appear sullen and aloof.

Liam had expressed his concerns about this to their grief counselor, but the shrink had assured him Amanda was okay. He’d attributed her moodiness to typical teenage hormones compounded by the loss of her mother. Amanda was doing well in school and engaging in dance. The counselor had told Liam those signs made him believe everything would be fine. If she appeared to worsen or withdraw, Liam should let the counselor know.

Liam had found that the best way for all of them to cope was to stay as busy as possible. He had the hospital; the girls had school and dance. It seemed to be working since they all put in full days and came home so tired at night that they usually ate dinner, showered and fell into bed. They would get through this together. The best way was to just keep marching ahead.

“Rosie, what would we do without you?”

The woman laughed. “Well, you must try for the rest of tonight because I am going to leave now. Maria has to cover part of another shift tonight and has to go in a little early. May I get you something else before I leave?”

Rosie’s family was small, consisting only of her daughter, Maria, and her infant grandson, Joaquin. Maria’s boyfriend had left before the baby was born and hadn’t been in the picture since. Now Maria lived with her mother, who kept the baby while Maria worked as the night manager at the Magnolia Hotel in downtown Celebration.

“No, thank you. You go home to your family and enjoy the rest of your night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Liam tucked into his dinner, focusing solely on feeding himself until he’d taken the edge off his ravenous hunger. Then he took a long, slow drink of iced sweet tea and flipped back the cover of his e-tablet. His curiosity had him searching the web for Kate Macintyre, wanting to know more about the woman and her family’s foundation. He clicked on the first of several listings, an article about Macintyre Enterprises in the local weekly paper, the Dallas Journal of Business and Development.

It suddenly sank in that Kate Macintyre was part of that Macintyre family. The Macintyre oil family. He wasn’t sure what he’d envisioned when he thought of Kate in her natural habitat, but the vague picture he’d formed in his mind’s eye hadn’t included big oil.

But then he read on, and discovered that Kate and her brother, Rob Macintyre, hadn’t been raised with the silver spoon. Apparently they’d both worked hard to pull themselves out of the poverty of their youth. But her brother was the one who had amassed the fortune.

Another article mentioned that an accident had killed Rob and Kate’s father, and nearly claimed the life of Rob’s young son; this was the impetus behind the new pediatric surgical wing.

The boy had been airlifted to a children’s hospital in Dallas, taking precious time that could’ve cost the boy his life. The Macintyres wanted to ensure that nothing like that ever happened to another local family, and so they had begun raising the funds for the new wing.

Liam realized how oblivious he could be when it came to matters outside his bubble. He knew the expansion was in the works, but until now, he had no clue of the story behind it. It made him appreciate Kate’s efforts all the more.

It also made him feel woefully inadequate when it came to what was happening in the community. Joy had always kept track of things like that. She’d advise him on what was going on, and help him remember names and keep people straight so that he didn’t embarrass himself.

He could virtually hear Joy say, That’s Kate Macintyre. Her brother, Rob, founded Macintyre Enterprises. Together the two of them founded the Macintyre Family Foundation. That’s Rob’s wife, Pepper, who once was the heir to the Texas Star empire before it crumbled. They were all key players in the community.

So did that make Kate a socialite? She didn’t act like one. She seemed too grounded and humble. Maybe one had to be born into social royalty. See, yet more proof that he was better off staying in his bubble. It reminded him of the saying, “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.” But the more appropriate reconfiguration for his situation was “If you have to ask, you don’t belong.”

All that who’s-who and what’s-what made his head hurt. He hadn’t had the time or the inclination for it when Joy was alive, and he had even less interest now, because he had his hands full with the things that were really important, such as his daughters and his job, which reminded him...

He typed the name of the auction, In Celebration of Bachelors, into the search engine. A webpage advertising the event came up. Charlie Benton, Quinn Vogler and Jake Lennox already had photos posted alongside descriptions of their proffered “dream dates.”

Liam chuckled. What a bunch of dogs. It was a classic example of Pavlov’s theory: the minute anyone said women, these guys started drooling.

Charlie’s date was nicknamed The 007.

“You will dress to the nines in a gown you purchase on a predate shopping trip paid by Benton, Charles Benton. I will pick you up in an Aston Martin DB5 just like James Bond used to drive, and whisk you away to a supersecret location where we’ll enjoy martinis—shaken, not stirred—as we watch the sunset.”

He went on to describe dinner and dancing laced with a little bit of imagined danger, something about seduction and a whole lot of corny.

What the hell was Benton talking about?

Danger and seduction. Were they allowed to sell seduction as part of a prize package? Maybe that’s where the danger came in—Benton pretending to be James Bond. The woman might crack a rib laughing.

Liam took another bite of meat loaf and read the other descriptions.

Vogler’s entry was entitled A Red-Carpet Evening and featured a limousine, champagne, dinner and a movie.

It sounded like a nice evening, except for the fact that Vogler had to come along on the date.

A date with Lennox came with a promise in its headline: We’ll Always Have Paris.

I’ll be damned. Liam paused, fork midair. Jake was flying the winner to France for a night at the Ritz and dinner at Le Jules Verne, the restaurant atop the Eiffel Tower.

Show-off.

Liam snickered and shook his head. He wished there was a place to comment so that he could give unsuspecting ladies the heads-up on these guys. His snark was all in good fun. In fairness, he had to admit that his colleagues were good guys. Even if they did spend too much time at the hospital and on the golf course, and too little time on what really mattered in life.

And what was that? What really mattered? One size did not necessarily fit all when it came to answering those questions.

For Liam, it was family. His girls. Protecting them from more of life’s hurts.

Okay, so six of his seven colleagues were unencumbered. Vogler was the only other one who had a child. That’s probably why he was staying in town for the date and trying so hard to disguise a night out to the movies as some gala affair.

Liam tried to ignore the little voice that nagged him. At least these guys know how to have fun. At least they are willing to donate their time in the name of something good.

But Liam couldn’t help but wonder why they just didn’t donate the money they were going to spend on the flights to Paris and the shopping sprees and limousines.

As Liam was making a mental note to ask Kate that very question, his daughters raced into the dining room.

Liam stabbed at the tablet’s off button, but only managed to switch pages rather than power down.

“Daddy!” squealed Calee. She threw her arms around his neck. Amanda hung back a little. As he hugged exuberant Calee, he could see Amanda over her sister’s shoulder. The girl looked as if she’d grown again. She had a good four inches on tiny Calee, who had inherited her mother’s petite stature. Amanda had gotten his height and bigger frame. The girl wasn’t overweight by any means; she was just stockier and larger-boned than her sister.

They were starting to really look like the fraternal twins they were.

After Calee stepped back, Amanda hugged him.

He loved the way that each of his daughters was her own person, especially since they were twins. Vastly different, yet fiercely protective of each other.

Both girls wore their pajamas and had wet hair from their showers. They smelled of the fruity shampoo and bath products they’d conned him into buying them when they’d dragged him to the mall a couple weekends ago. He breathed in deeply, savoring the scent of his little girls, just about the only fragrance in the world that soothed his weary soul. Mingling with Rosie’s cooking, it was the smell of home.

The girls had been at school until two-thirty, and then, after Amanda’s club meeting, they’d gone to the dance studio and were in classes until Rosalinda had picked them up at seven-fifteen. Despite the long day, they seemed to have more energy than he did after a good night’s rest. A case in point that youth was wasted on the young. Well, maybe not wasted, but there was definitely an unfair distribution.

“Oh-em-gee,” Calee said. Lately, she’d taken to speaking in what Liam called “alphabet soup”—acronyms rather than words. It seemed to be the trend among today’s youth. “Are you going to be in that bachelor auction? Everyone’s talking about it.”

“What?” Ugh. Had she seen the website on the tablet before he’d exited the page?

“What auction?” he asked, borrowing a sly play from her book, one that he liked to call the “don’t offer any more than is absolutely necessary” tactic.

Calee reached out and, with a couple confident taps, she pulled up the page he’d tried to hide as she and her sister had burst into the room.

“Duh. This auction. You were just looking at it. Oh-em-gee. Why are you pretending you weren’t?”

She put her hands on her slim hips and affected a disapproving look. That was the thing about teenage girls: nothing got by them. That’s why he was so careful not to do anything that might embarrass them or undermine the strict house rules under which he was raising them. Honesty was at the top of the list, and since he led by example, this was the perfect time to be truthful, a good teaching moment.

“I was looking at the website because I went to a meeting today, and they were talking about it. Some of my colleagues are going to be in it to help raise money for the pediatric surgical wing.”

Did partial truth count? His colleagues were going to help. He’d just omitted the part about him declining to take part, too.

“I left to do rounds before the meeting was over. So I was checking the webpage to see what it was all about.”

Amanda moved closer to stand beside her sister. She watched as Calee held up her hands. “Wait. Wait. Wait. You said your colleagues are doing it? Why aren’t you?”

Liam was about to reassure her that he wasn’t doing it because he didn’t want to embarrass her and Amanda, but he was relieved when she didn’t wait for him to answer.

“Oh-em-gee. You totally have to do it. You. Have. To. Do. It. Tonight at dance class Lacy Vogler was bragging about how her dad got invited to do it because she said he’s the hottest dad in Celebration.”

Lacy Vogler? She had to be Quinn’s daughter.

“But I told her that he wasn’t the hottest dad, that you were. Because you’re his boss, right? Right?”

She was talking a mile a minute, and Liam was doing his best to follow what she was saying. Did this mean she wanted him to do the auction? He had a sinking feeling she might.

“Well, no. I’m not exactly his boss. He works at the hospital just like I do. I’m in charge of pediatrics, and he’s in charge of orthopedics—”

“But you’ve been there longer, right? Right? Lacy Vogler just moved here, and we’ve always been here, and she’s coming in and trying to take over. Please tell me you’re going to do the auction, because if you don’t, she will think she won and that her dad is better than you and—”

This time Liam held up his hands. “Whoa, Calee, take a breath.”

He gave his head a quick shake, trying to stop it from spinning thanks to her breathless tirade. Also because he didn’t like this trend of one-upmanship he was witnessing in her. And this wasn’t the first time, either.

“Calee, in this family, we don’t worry about keeping up with the Joneses. So it doesn’t matter what Lacy says. The auction isn’t to decide who has the hottest dad.” He cringed before the sentence was completely out of his mouth. “Or however you put it.”

Hottest dad? Since when did teenage girls even think about dads in those terms?

The way his daughter was reacting was exactly why he didn’t want to participate in the auction in the first place. Well, okay, not exactly the reason. Sort of the flip side of the coin. Life and happiness weren’t about looks, or who got the most bids or raised the most money.

“This auction is about helping. It’s about doing something for the greater good of the community.”

“Right, but Lacy’s last name is Vogler? Not Jones?” Calee said. She’d also developed a habit of putting verbal question marks at the end of statements when she was trying to make a point.

When Liam squinted at her, she explained, “Haha, Dad. You said we’re not interested in keeping up with the Joneses. It’s Lacy Vogler, not Lacy Jones.”

She spat the girl’s name, as if the mere mention of it left a bad aftertaste, and that bothered him, too. Maybe even more than the thought of putting himself up for auction.

“I know what her name is,” Liam said. “You know what that expression means. Stop being a smarty-pants.”

“So, then, that means you’ll do it?” Calee said.

Had she not heard a single word he’d said? He glanced at Amanda, who was still conspicuously quiet. Probably because she couldn’t get a word in edgewise when her sister was on a roll. Or possibly because she understood the implications of what her sister was trying to do.

Liam shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ll be in the auction. I will definitely contribute money, because the funding is what’s important. The community and the hospital gravely need a pediatric surgical wing. It’s a great cause, and I do want to help, but I’ll have to think about whether or not I want to be in the auction.

“You see, the way it works is the women bid on the men. That money goes to the hospital. But then the guys have to take out the women who placed the winning bids on a fancy date and spend a lot of money. I think I’d rather give that money to the hospital. Instead of spending it on a date. Don’t you think that’s better?”

He paused to let the reality of that sink in. He wondered if Calee had been so caught up in outdoing Quinn Vogler’s daughter that she hadn’t even realized that being in the auction meant that a woman who was not her mother would expect to go out on a date with him.

He paused, waiting for the implications to sink in.

But Calee and Amanda were standing there staring at him, not giving him the horrified reaction he’d expected.

“Because you do realize that, by being in the auction, I would have to go out on a date?”

“It’s not like you’d be cheating on mom or anything.” The voice came from behind Calee. Liam’s gaze shifted to Amanda. She may have been the quieter of the two, but sometimes she seemed ages wiser. In fact, Joy used to call Amanda her “old soul.”

“Well, no, I suppose not,” Liam answered, feeling as if the last of his reasons for not participating in the auction were flying out the window fast.

“I guess I’ve been worried about how you two would feel if I took another woman out on a date. I didn’t want to commit to the auction because I was afraid it would upset you.”

Calee and Amanda looked at each other. Despite the fact that they were as different as night and day, they were as close as close could be. They stuck together. Calee, the more assertive of the two, always looked out for her sister and usually spoke for her, as well. Every so often the girls might get into a tiff, but no one besides the two of them got away with saying a cross word about the other without suffering the consequences.

Sometimes, like now, it was as if they had a secret, silent language in which only they communicated. It was almost telepathic. Liam saw them at work now.

“Dad,” said Amanda, who had apparently been elected spokesperson for the matter at hand. “Just because some woman bids on you in an auction and you take her out, doesn’t mean you have to like her. You know, you don’t have to like her, like her.”

Those matter-of-fact words, which weren’t snotty or hateful, just truthful, were the well-placed punch in the gut he thought he’d avoided earlier when they had first started talking about the damn auction and the possibility of him spending time with someone who was not Joy. Only these words landed a little harder because now he felt foolish.

“Well, of course not,” he said.

“But you wouldn’t have to kiss her or marry her or anything like that,” said Calee.

“So you’re telling me that you two want me to participate?” Liam asked.

“Yes!” Calee cheered. Then she grew uncharacteristically serious. “Just as long as you don’t let Mrs. Herring win you.”