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“You know, your new bed has to be delivered before you can use the new things.”
“When is it coming?” Morgan asked again.
“Saturday.” Libby drove into her assigned space next to Jess’s. She noted that his car wasn’t there yet, which meant he was still working. Or something. She turned off the car’s ignition.
“Why can’t they bring my bed tomorrow?” Morgan asked.
“Because we’re at school all day and no one will be at home to let the delivery men in. They wouldn’t know where it goes,” she explained.
“What about Uncle Jess?”
Yeah. That was a good question. Libby wanted to warn Morgan not to count on him. The man was unwilling to do the hard work. The answer to what about Jess was as simple as that.
It had to have been hard losing his dad so young, but he was making a deliberate choice to keep this precious little girl at arm’s length. No matter what he said about Ben and Charity knowing him, Libby would never believe his passive parenting is what they’d have wanted for their little girl.
But she couldn’t say any of that out loud in answer to the question.
“Uncle Jess works, too. Very hard. He can’t be here for the delivery.” Or anything else, Libby added silently. “So we’ll just keep all the bedding stacked in the corner of your room until Saturday.”
“Okay.” Morgan unhooked herself from the safety seat and opened the rear passenger door.
Libby lifted the twin comforter and the bag with matching sheets and towels from her trunk. The two of them managed to carry the bulky shopping bags to the private elevator, then rode it to the penthouse. She pulled the key from her jeans pocket and turned it in the lock. But when she tried to open the door it didn’t budge. After turning the key in the opposite direction, the door opened, which meant she hadn’t secured it properly when they’d left earlier.
“That’s funny,” she said.
“What is, Aunt Libby?” Morgan looked up with big, innocent brown eyes.
“I was sure I locked the door.” She always did.
This was a secure building, but leaving an unobstructed way into a luxury penthouse was like an engraved invitation to get ripped off. Her only excuse was that she’d had Jess on her mind a lot. The distraction took a toll and important things like not locking up were the result.
She set the bags down in the foyer and her purse on the circular table.
“I’m thirsty, Aunt Libby.”
“How about a gigantic glass of milk?”
The two of them had grabbed a burger at the mall, but before leaving she’d fixed a salad and pasta for Jess, then left it in the fridge.
She smiled down at the little girl. “Soda with your hamburger for dinner was a treat but you still need milk.”
“Why?”
“It has calcium to give you shiny hair and strong teeth and bones so you’ll grow up big and strong.”
Libby walked into the kitchen where the light was already on, which made the hair at her nape prickle with unease. On top of that there was an almost-empty plate of pasta on the counter. One of the bar stools had been pulled out for sitting down on.
“This just keeps getting weirder.”
“Uncle Jess ate his dinner,” Morgan said.
Libby didn’t think so, what with the fact that his car wasn’t in its usual space. She didn’t think he was home yet. Not only that, there was a half-full wineglass beside the plate. Jess was a beer guy as far as she knew. She picked up the stemware and looked closer.
“Uncle Jess didn’t pour this, not unless he’s started wearing lipstick.”
Libby wondered whether or not she should be afraid. Should she take Morgan out and call 911? It didn’t feel like there was anything bad going on. This had a sensation of familiarity, of being at home and comfortable with the surroundings.
“Aunt Libby—”
“What, sweetie?” she said, preoccupied with what to do.
“It’s like that story you read me,” Morgan said, excitement humming in her voice. “Remember? The one about the girl and the three bears.”
She raced out of the room before Libby could stop her. And she needed to stop her because in that story they found the girl in bed. Hurrying to catch up, Libby went into the family room where she found Morgan standing still, staring down the long hall that led to Jess’s bedroom. A beautiful, curvaceous woman was walking toward them wearing a man’s black silk robe. Libby was thinking it was probably all she was wearing but couldn’t say for sure and didn’t really want to confirm. Her next thought was that although she’d never seen him in it, the robe was probably Jess’s.
“This is the three bears’ story and Goldilocks is a redhead,” she mumbled.
The woman tightened the tie at her waist and stopped in front of them. “Who are you?”
“I’m Libby. Who are you?”
“Elena Cavanaugh. I wasn’t aware that Jess got married.”
“He didn’t. How did you get in here?” Libby demanded.
“With the key he gave me. And you?”
Libby settled her hands on Morgan’s shoulders. The two of them lived here and shouldn’t have to justify their presence. Red, on the other hand, had a lot of explaining to do. “I’m the nanny.”
Elena’s gaze dropped to Morgan. “I didn’t know he had a child.”
“A recent development,” she explained, giving the small shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m a flight attendant. Jess gave me a key. We’re—” Her gaze dropped to Morgan. “We’re friends. When my flight schedule brings me to Las Vegas I stop by to say hello.”
“Without calling?”
Elena shrugged. “He likes surprises.”
“Why are you wearing that robe?” Morgan asked.
“You’re a cutie,” the woman said with genuine warmth.
“I’m Morgan.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Morgan. I like your name. And to answer your question, I was just going to take a bath.”
“To get ready for bed?” the little girl innocently persisted.
“Something like that.” Elena looked at Libby. “But I see that Jess has made some changes around here.”
“This all happened recently.” Libby glanced down at the child in front of her. “For Morgan. Jess isn’t actually her uncle. He’s her guardian because…”
Elena nodded slightly, letting her know she didn’t have to go into detail in front of the little girl. It was a sensitive thing to do and took the starch out of Libby’s indignant outrage over this “arrangement.” Though she had no right to it, there was probably a little jealousy stuck between indignance and outrage.
“I think I’ll just go and get dressed,” Elena said.
Morgan stepped away from Libby. “Are you leaving already?”
“It would be best,” the woman answered in the same words Libby was thinking.
“You’re not going to sleep over?” Morgan persisted.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea.” Again her response was exactly what Libby would have said. Elena turned and walked back down the hall.
When they were alone Morgan looked up at her. “I wish she would stay. She’s nice, Aunt Libby.”
“I can see why you feel that way.” The kid meant stunning, Libby thought. What in the world was Jess thinking, giving out keys to his place? Didn’t he ever see the movie Fatal Attraction? She felt like the queen of snark because Elena seemed nice enough under incredibly awkward circumstances.
The front door opened and closed, and speaking of the devil, he walked into the family room looking like he’d just arrived for a magazine fashion shoot. Charcoal suit, white shirt, red tie. Awesomely appealing. How could he look so good at the end of a long, difficult day? Libby felt as if she’d been run over by heavy equipment and it was his fault.
“Hi,” he said, smiling at both of them. “I see you did some shopping.”
“My new bed is coming on Saturday,” Morgan said. “I got a princess comforter and sheets to match. Want to see?”
He looked from her to Libby. “I think that’s the most words she’s ever strung together in my presence.”
“Mall magic,” Libby answered, wondering how to diplomatically bring up Elena in front of a child.
“So you guys had fun?” he asked.
“You could say that.”
He must have heard something in her tone because he frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“You could say that, too.”
“What’s going on?”
“Hi, Jess.” The flight attendant stopped just inside the doorway and he whirled around to look at her.
After a couple of beats he said, “Elena.” Shock mixed with recognition equaled awkward.
“You look great,” she said. The crisp white shirt and navy pants of her flight uniform made her shapely figure look even more curvy.
“Right back at you.” He glanced at Morgan. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got in.”
“No problem.”
“The thing is, this isn’t a very good time—”
“Yeah. I kind of figured that out on my own.” She smiled with genuine regret as she handed him his key. Then she stood on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on his lips that clearly said goodbye. Looking first at Libby, then Morgan, she said, “It was nice to meet you both. For what it’s worth, I think Jess will be a really good dad.”
On what planet? Libby wanted to ask. But Elena was gone before she could say the words even if she dared.
Libby blew out a breath. “I can truthfully say that nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”
“I bet she drinks lots of milk,” Morgan commented.
“Why?” Jess and Libby asked together.
“Because her hair is shiny. She has nice teeth and is big and strong.” Morgan looked wistfully toward the front door. “She’s pretty. I want that color hair. And when I grow up, I hope my boobs are like hers.”
Jess looked as horrified as Libby felt but she was pretty sure it was for a different reason. Libby was already a woman and there was no chance of her growing into the “assets” necessary to get Jess’s attention.
Jess wondered which of the gods he’d pissed off and, more important, what sacrifice it would take to get them off his back. While Libby supervised Morgan’s bath and bedtime rituals, he was in the morning room downing his second beer.
When this child fell into his lap, he’d known life would change, but he hadn’t counted on parts of the old one creeping in. Elena looked good, no question about that. She was fun, flirty and fantastic in bed. Part of the fun was her showing up without warning. That was exciting, or at least it used to be. Her goodbye said they were over and he would have understood even if she hadn’t returned the key.
The thing was, it didn’t bother him, which bothered him more than anything. That was just wrong and he blamed a petite, blue-eyed blonde who didn’t seem at all intimidated or impressed by his wealth and power.
He blamed her because she had the damnedest way of creeping into his thoughts at inconvenient times. Board meetings. Business lunches. Phone calls. It was difficult to concentrate when a memory of her tart comments made him smile. Or the way she caught her top lip between her teeth sent his thoughts to kissing first that lip and then the bottom one to see for himself how she tasted.
And suddenly he sensed her behind him. Although she didn’t make a sound, he knew she was there. The hair at his nape prickled and his skin felt too tight. That happened when normal blood flow was involuntarily diverted to points south. This was the last thing he wanted or needed.
“Jess? Can I talk to you?”
The last time they’d talked in here was chicken-nugget night. Libby had given him a crash course in child-speak. She’d encouraged him to engage Morgan in conversation and complimented him on what was right with his style. Then he’d seen the light in her eyes dim and extinguish because he’d disappointed her. Libby was a grown-up, but Morgan wasn’t. What if he let her down? He was pretty sure conversing with the kid didn’t include her sharing that she wanted a big bosom and red hair when she grew up. So he’d already failed her.
Libby didn’t understand why family was a hot button for him. How could he explain that love had cost him the only family he had? She wouldn’t understand that promises made and broken were what destroyed all he thought he knew about love and loyalty. He wanted to say no to the talking, but knew that wasn’t an option.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” he suggested, turning to meet her gaze.
“No, thanks. This won’t take long.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
The choice of words was unfortunate because he suspected Libby would very much like to do just that. After Elena left and Morgan said what she said, her nanny had glared at him in a way that could reduce a lesser man to a brown stain on the rug.
“Is Morgan settled?” he asked.
“That’s a good question.”
Here we go, he thought. “What’s wrong?”
The look on her face told him what he already knew—stupid question. “Let’s start with the naked woman in your bed.”
In his obviously flawed judgment, she sounded jealous, and the idea of that had some merit. “If we’re going to discuss this rationally, let’s get the facts straight. We don’t know if she was naked and I have no independent confirmation that she was in my bed.”
