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The woman smiled. “I like the way you think, Ms. Chamberlain.”
“Of course the baby’s going to be another story,” Reese murmured. “After having his daddy’s exclusive attention, it will take time to win him around.”
Mrs. Tribe paused before speaking. “Actually, since his birth, he’s been looked after by his maternal grandparents.”
“Are they still living with Mr. Wainwright?”
“No. The Hirsts live in White Plains. An hour away in heavy traffic.”
So did that mean he hadn’t been with his son for the last couple of months? No…that couldn’t be right. Now that he was getting a nanny, they’d probably just left to go back home.
“I see. Does Jamie have paternal grandparents, too?”
“Yes. At the moment they’re away on a trip,” came the vague response.
Reese came from a large family. Both sets of grandparents were still alive and always around. She had seven aunts and uncles. Last count there were twenty-eight cousins. With her siblings, including the next oldest, Carrie, who was married and had two children under three, that brought the number to thirty-four. She wondered if her employer had any brothers and sisters or other family.
“You’ve been with Mr. Wainwright a long time. Is there anything of importance I should know ahead of time?”
“He’s punctual.”
“I’ll remember that.” Reese got to her feet. “I won’t take any more of your time. Thank you for this opportunity, Mrs. Tribe.”
“It’s been my pleasure. A limo will be sent for you at one o’clock.”
“I’ll be waiting outside in front. Oh—one more question. What does Mr. Wainwright do for a living?”
The other woman’s eyebrows lifted. “Since you’re at Wharton, I thought you might have already made the connection or I would have told you. He’s the CEO at Sherborne-Wainwright & Co. on Broadway. Good luck.”
“Thank you,” Reese murmured in shock.
He was that Wainwright?
It was one of the most prestigious brokerage firms in New York, if not the top one with roots that went back a couple of hundred years. The revelation stunned her on many levels. Somehow she’d imagined the man who ran the whole thing to be in his late forties or early fifties. It usually took that long to rise to those heights.
Of course it wasn’t impossible for him to have a new baby, but she was still surprised. Maybe it had been his second wife he’d lost and she’d been a young mother. No one was exempt from pain in this life.
Nick Wainwright stood at the side of the grave. In loving memory of Erica Woodward Hirst Wainwright.
Thirty-two years old was too young to die.
“I’m sorry I neglected you so much it led to our divorce, Erica. Before we separated, I never thought for one moment you might be pregnant with our child, or that you’d lose your life during the delivery. My heart grieves for our little boy who needs his mother. It was your dying wish I raise him, but I feared I wouldn’t know how to be a good father to him. That’s why I let your parents take care of him this long, but now I’m ready. I swear I’ll do everything in my power to be a better father to him than I was a husband to you. If you’re listening, I just wanted you to know I vow to keep that promise.”
After putting fresh flowers against the headstone, Nick walked swiftly to the limo waiting for him in the distance. He hadn’t been here since the funeral. The visit filled him with sorrow for what had gone wrong, but with the decision made to take Jamie home, it felt right to have come to her grave first.
This early in the morning there was only his chauffeur, Paul, to see his tall, dark lone figure get in the back wearing a pale blue summer suit and tie. As he closed the rear door his eyes flicked to the newest state-of-the-art infant car seat he’d had delivered. Before the morning was out, he’d be taking his ten-week-old boy back to the city with him.
“Let’s head over to my in-laws.”
His middle-aged driver nodded and started the car. Paul had worked for Nick’s dad, back when Nick had been in his early teens. Now that his father was semiretired and Nick had been put in as head of the firm, he’d inherited Paul. Over the years the two of them had become good friends.
Once they left the White Plains cemetery where members of the prominent Hirst family had been buried for the past one hundred and fifty years, he sat back rubbing his hand over his face. In a few minutes there was going to be a scene, but he’d been preparing himself for it.
Prior to the baby’s birth, Nick hadn’t lived with Erica over the nine months of her pregnancy. Her death had come as a tremendous shock to him. Though he’d allowed her parents to take the baby home from the hospital, he hadn’t intended on it lasting for more than several weeks. In that amount of time he’d planned to find live-in help for the baby. Because of his guilt over the way their marriage had fallen apart, he’d let the situation go on too long.
When Nick had phoned the pediatrician in White Plains who’d been called in at the time of delivery, he’d informed Nick that if he hoped to bond with his son, he shouldn’t wait any longer to parent him on a full-time basis.
The doctor gave Nick the name of Dr. Hebert Wells, a highly recommended pediatrician who had a clinic on New York’s upper west side and could take over Jamie’s care. Then he wished him luck.
Following that conversation, Nick had phoned his attorney and explained what he wanted to do. The other man had contacted the Hirsts’ attorney to let them know Nick was ready to take over his responsibilities as a father and would be coming for Jamie to take him home.
Erica’s parents had wanted Nick to wait until the nanny they’d lined up would be available. They wanted control over the way their only grandchild—a future Hirst who would carry on the family tradition—would be raised. That meant having equal input over everything, the kind of children he associated with and where he would attend school from the beginning through college.
But Nick wasn’t willing to wait any longer. Through their attorneys he promised to consult them on certain matters and bring Jamie to White Plains for visits, but deep down he knew nothing he said would reassure them. Time would have to take care of the problem.
Nick’s family, who lived on Long Island, wanted control of their only grandchild, too. But they were at the family villa in Cannes with friends at the moment, confident Nick would do what had to be done to keep his in-laws pacified.
“Erica’s parents seem willing to keep him for now,” his mother exclaimed. “It would be better if you let Jamie stay with them for the next year anyway. You can go on visiting him when you have the time. It’s the best arrangement under the circumstances.”
Nick knew the script by heart. His own parents had already found another suitable woman for Nick to meet when he was ready. They saw nothing wrong in letting Erica’s parents oversee Jamie’s care, a sort of consolation prize to remove their guilt by association with the son who’d divorced “the catch of the season.”
Their attitude came as no surprise to Nick. He’d been an only child, raised in virtual luxury by a whole staff of people other than his own parents. What they never understood was that it had been a lonely life, one that had caused him great pain. He didn’t want that for Jamie. But deep down he felt nervous as hell.
Though Nick might have been the whiz kid who’d risen to the top of Sherborne-Wainwright, a two-hundred-year-old family investment brokerage, he didn’t quite know what to do with Jamie. The world of a two-and-half-month-old baby was anathema to him.
He’d visited him every Saturday, but was an unwelcome visitor as far as Erica’s family was concerned. They had a well-trained, well-vetted staff, plus a private nurse to see to Jamie’s every need.
Weather permitting, he would carry the baby outside to the English garden where he could get away from the officious woman in her white uniform. Otherwise Nick remained in the nursery, but he was superfluous in the help department. The staff had everything covered ahead of time. That in itself made it impossible for him to get close to his son.
As the old Georgian colonial estate came into sight and they passed through the outer gate, Nick determined everything was going to change, starting now. He alighted from the back of the limo. “I won’t be long, Paul.”
The slightly balding family man smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing him. He’s bigger every time we come.”
That was the problem. Jamie was changing and growing with each passing day and Nick wasn’t here to see it happen. The commuting had to stop so the fathering could begin.
Before he reached the gleaming white front door, Erica’s father opened it. Walter had a full head of frosted brown hair and a golfer’s physique. Erica’s parents were handsome people, but his father-in-law’s glowering expression brought out Nick’s temper, which he did his best to keep under control.
“Walter?”
“Before I let you in, I want you to know Anne’s in a highly emotional state.”
“You think I’m not aware of that?”
The older man grimaced. “She asked me to tell yo—”
“I know it by heart, Walter,” he broke in. “Though I can’t go back and change the past, I intend to do the right thing for our son. I told that to Erica when I stopped at the cemetery a little while ago.”
Walter’s eyes flickered as if he were surprised by the admission. After a slight hesitation he said, “Come in the dayroom. The nurse has Jamie ready for you.”
“Thank you.”
After three years of marriage—the last year spent in separation while the divorce was being finalized—his in-law’s home was full of ghosts from the past. In the beginning his wedding to Erica had been happy enough. Everyone claimed the lovely Hirst daughter was the catch of the season, but time proved they weren’t meant for each other, and she’d spent a lot of her time here rather than the city.
There’d been unmet expectations and disappointments on both sides. The sameness of their existence had become so severe, they’d drifted apart. The last time they’d been intimate, it had been a halfhearted attempt on his part to rekindle what they’d lost, but the spark was gone.
He followed his father-in-law through the house until they came to the dayroom, a contemporary addition that had been constructed after Erica had moved back with them. No doubt to keep her busy with something to do while she waited for the baby to come.
Anne’s series of decorators had filled it with pots of flowers and rattan couches covered in bright prints of pink and orange. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked several acres of garden and manicured lawns that were green and smooth as velvet.
His mother-in-law sat in one of the chairs, stiff as a piece of petrified wood. Nick’s gaze flew to his son, who was lying in the fancy baby carriage. He’d been dressed for travel and was wide-awake.
Nick had no complaints about Jamie’s care, but couldn’t wait to take him away because he’d be damned if he would allow history to repeat itself for one more day. Nick had been emotionally neglected by his parents. Erica had suffered the same fate though she could never admit it and preferred living in denial.
There’d been a lot of damage done. He wasn’t about to commit the same crime where Jamie was concerned.
“Hello, Anne.”
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
Nick walked over to the carriage, still awed by the fact that he was a father, that he and Erica were responsible for Jamie’s existence.
The baby had inherited Nick’s long, lean body and black hair, but Nick saw hints of Erica’s nose and bone structure in his face. She’d been an attractive, slim brunette of medium height like Anne.
“Hi, sport. Remember me?” Nick leaned over and grasped Jamie’s tiny hand. One look at Nick and the baby breathed a little faster with excitement. He wrapped his fingers around Nick’s index finger. The next thing he knew it went to his mouth, always to the mouth, causing Nick to chuckle.
So far his eyes were a muddy color and would probably go brown like his and Erica’s. No doubt they would fill with tears when he took Jamie away and the baby discovered himself in strange surroundings. Better get this over quick.
Seizing the moment, he lifted the baby and propped him against his shoulder. “Come on, son. We’re going to take a little ride in the car with Paul. Would you like that?”
Walter handed him the quilt and a diaper bag. His eyes sent a message to Nick that he’d better live up to his promises. “The nurse printed out Jamie’s routine and the things you’ll need after you get to your apartment.”
“I can’t thank you enough for watching over Jamie until now. I promise I’ll bring him back next Saturday for a visit.”
“We’ll expect you.” But Walter couldn’t get Anne to lift her head.
“Anytime either of you wants to see him, just come by the apartment. If I’m at work, the nanny will let you in.”
Anne’s head flew back, revealing a face devoid of animation. “Barbara Cosgriff can’t let their nanny come to you until September. There’s no reason to take our grandson yet.” The reproach in her voice was palpable.
“There’s every reason, Anne. I miss my son and am engaging someone else until then.”
“Who?” she demanded.
“I’m not sure yet. My secretary has been interviewing applicants all week. By tomorrow I expect she’ll have found several for me to talk to personally. She’ll do a thorough vetting. That woman is worth her weight in gold and has never let me down yet.”
“What does she know about being a nanny?”
“Though I realize you can’t comprehend it, she’s been an exceptional working mother for me and that has never changed since she came to work eight years ago. It tells me she’ll know what to look for. Keep in mind that the nanny she finds will only be with me three months until the Cosgriffs’ nanny becomes free.”
That was what he was saying now, yet in fact he had no idea if he would hire the Cosgriffs’ nanny at all! But that revelation could keep for another day. “I plan to work shorter hours this summer, so it won’t be as if Jamie’s alone with her twelve hours a day.”
“If you’d taken more time off to travel with Erica, you could have saved your marriage.”
No. Nothing could have saved it, Anne. But to get into a postmortem with her at this stage would be futile.
“Your penthouse isn’t suited to having a baby there, but somehow you insisted on Erica living there with you so you could be close to your work. She needed a real home where she could entertain.”
His temper flared again, but he managed to keep it contained. “She made it into a place where she could invite her friends after the opera and the ballet. I offered to buy Sedgewick Manor in the Hamptons for her, but she preferred to stay with you because she said it suited her better. Jamie and I will manage.”
Nick didn’t know how yet, but he’d figure it out. He kissed the baby’s silky head. “Thank the nurse for the notes. I’m sure I’ll need to refer to them until I get used to the routine.”
She kept her hands tightly clasped in her lap. “The nurse said he’ll be ready for another bottle when he goes down for his nap at noon.”
“That’s good to know. We’ll be back at the apartment by then.” Hopefully at that point Nick would have heard from Leah Tribe about the new nanny.
“See you next Saturday. Remember you can call anytime.”
Nick turned and walked through the house with his son, still disbelieving this day had come and he was leaving the whole dreadful past behind. It was like tearing off a straitjacket.
When Paul saw him, he got out of the limo. Together they put Jamie in his new car seat. Nick could have done it without Paul’s help, but he was grateful for it because it would probably have taken Nick half a dozen tries to get the confounded thing right.
The older man studied his tiny features for a minute. “I see a lot of you in him, Nick. He’s a fine-looking boy.”
“Blame that on his mother.”
Paul patted his shoulder. “I’ll drive carefully.”
“I’m not worried.”
He put the diaper bag on the opposite seat, then sat next to Jamie and fastened his own seat belt. As they started down the driveway, he looked around but only saw the closed front door of Hirst Hollow. It symbolized a closed life because both sets of parents had been emotionally unavailable.
You should have done this sooner, Wainwright.
But it was too late for more regrets. He needed to let the past go and concentrate on Jamie. When he looked down, he caught the baby staring at him.
Nick smiled and put out his hand so he’d grab it. His little fingers took hold with surprising strength. No tears yet. They hadn’t been gone long enough for Jamie to miss the familiar faces of his nurse and grandparents.
He fought down the anger generated by his own lack of action up to now. Mired in guilt, he’d been slow to pull himself out of a depression that had its inception long before Erica’s death. His estrangement from her had been one thing, but to realize his son barely knew him twisted his gut.
A chance remark by a client last week had wakened him out of his morose stupor. “With your wife gone, that new baby of yours must be a real joy to you. There’s nothing like a child to make the pain go away.” The comment made him realize he could be a good father.
Once his client had left the office, Nick had got on the phone to his attorney and let him know he planned to bring Jamie home where he belonged. After setting things in motion, he’d called in Leah to help him start looking for a nanny.
Nick studied the little scrap of humanity strapped in the infant seat next to him. Jamie was his son. Flesh of his flesh. It pained him he’d waited this long to go get him. Emotion grabbed him by the throat.
“I know this is a brand-new experience for you, sport. It is for me, too. You have no idea. I’m more the baby than you are right now and frankly, I’m terrified. You’re going to help me out, aren’t you?”
For answer, Jamie gave him a big yawn. A laugh escaped Nick’s throat. He’d never been responsible for anyone before. Except that wasn’t exactly true. When he’d taken on a wife, he’d promised to love her in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do us part.
