Must Like Kids (10 page)

“Julia!” he called.

She was wearing the same outfit she’d had on earlier, with the addition of a lightweight jacket. Her clothes looked damp, as did her hair, which was now pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes widened when she saw him and she stepped around the other spectators to the edge of the canopy.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Neither her expression nor her voice inflection hinted at whether she was happy to see him. Feeling suddenly awkward, he joked, “It seemed like a nice night for a game.”

On the field behind them Danielle’s team scored. The crowd under the canopy erupted in cheers. Since there was no more room beneath the shelter, Julia pulled up her hood and stepped out into the rain.

“You’re getting drenched,” she remarked.

Alec shrugged. “I’ll survive.”

“I was going to call you after the game.”

“I’ve been calling
you
all afternoon.”

Her brow wrinkled at that. “The battery on my cell died. You have?”

He nodded. “To apologize. I acted, well, like a big jerk. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

He accepted her apology with a nod that caused rainwater to sluice down his cheeks.

“This is ridiculous.”

She ducked back under the canopy, squeezed past an older couple. A moment later, she emerged with an umbrella in hand. It was small, it’s handle molded into the shape of a popular superhero. Colin’s, he decided. After opening it, she lifted it over both of their heads, revealing an image of the same caped good guy that the handle sported.

“That’s better,” she murmured.

Alec had to agree, not only because he was now shielded from the rain, but also because of their forced proximity. He swore he could feel the heat emanating from her body. To take his mind off that, he said, “I’m almost afraid to watch the news tonight.”

“I wouldn’t be.” Her dimpled smile was sly. He doubted she realized it also was sexy.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh. Just that after you left, I went back into the park and worked a little magic.”

“But you said we needed to leave.”

“
You
needed to leave. The news crew and that band of riled-up mothers would have devoured you like a pack of hungry wolves. But my face isn’t recognizable or all that memorable.”

Alec fought the urge to disagree. Even now, partly obscured by her hood, Julia had the sort of face that was hard to forget.

“So, what kind of magic did you work?”

“I found the mother of the little boy who ran into your leg.” Her expression turned wry. “Not an easy venture given how many people were milling about, let me tell you. Anyway, I talked to her, explained how unfair it was that people were jumping to conclusions and telling the reporter an inaccurate and unflattering version of events.”

“And?”

“She agreed to talk to the reporter.”

“On the record?”

“Better than that. On the air.” Julia’s smile bloomed in full. “I was there for the short interview. No matter how the clip gets edited, you should be fully exonerated. She made it clear that her child ran into you and was crying because his ice cream fell off the cone and that you had been nothing but understanding.”

Alec heaved a sigh. He meant it when he said, “That’s a huge relief. I wasn’t looking forward to facing the board again so soon.”

Had a negative news segment aired that evening, he had little doubt that, coming so quickly on the heels of the previous day’s PR fiasco, another emergency meeting would have been called to reassess his future.

“Neither was I.”

“I owe you.”

As he said it, Alec tugged at one of the laces hanging down from her hood. He was tempted more than he wanted to be to lean down and kiss her again. The eyes regarding him were wide and watchful. He thought he saw interest flicker in them. He knew he’d seen it earlier. In the park. Before the ice-cream-cone incident.

“Three bucks.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Three bucks. That’s what you owe me. I bought the boy another ice cream cone. You can settle up with me later,” Julia said on a smile.

“Count on it.”

“Ice cream! I want ice cream!” This shout came from Colin, who tried to join them under the tiny umbrella. The boy scooted between them, dimples so like his mother’s flashing with his smile.

Alec smiled too, even though he was forced to step back. Once again, he found himself out in the rain.

SIX

The sun was shining, the birds were singing and Julia was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning when she dialed Alec’s number just after nine the following day.

“So, what did you think of the news report?” she asked as soon as he came on the line.

“I think that three bucks I owe you for ice cream will be the best three bucks I’ve spent in a long time. That woman’s interview was pure gold.”

Julia’s grin widened. It was indeed.

“Don’t forget the quotes from the mother whose daughter won the cutest baby contest.”

“How could I? She thinks I’m misunderstood.” He sounded amused.

“Yes and, according to her, all you need is the love of a good woman and a child of your own to make your reformation complete.”

“That’s what all women think,” he said on a laugh.

Julia pictured him rolling his eyes. What she couldn’t picture was Alec walking the floor with a colicky infant in the wee hours of the morning. Or sitting up with a feverish toddler or even having the patience to pitch a ball to a little boy just learning the basics of America’s pastime. Which was disappointing. For him. Her smile dimmed.

“That’s
not
what all women think,” she replied.

“Oh? What about you?”

She swallowed. And nearly a minute of silence ticked by. At last, she managed to say, “Love is pretty powerful.” Old memories beckoned. Enough time had passed so that the sharp pain that once had accompanied them was now more of a dull ache. “And children, raising them is hard work, but the rewards are, well, you have to be a parent to truly understand.”

Yes, she was definitely disappointed for Alec that he wasn’t interesting in discovering those rewards firsthand.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“I suppose.”

“What happened between you and your husband?”

“What happened?”

“That’s too rude. I guess what I’m really wondering is, how long have you been divorced.” When a couple of beats of silence followed, he said, “Never mind. You don’t need to—”

“Scott died. Cancer.”

At one time even saying the words would have sent her to her knees. Time didn’t heal all wounds, but it made them tolerable.

A lively curse came through the line.

“God, Julia. I’m sorry. I thought...I
assumed
you were divorced.”

Most people did and sometimes Julia let them. It was easier, somehow. Death was difficult to discuss, especially when it had come prematurely and after such a bitter fight for survival. It made people uncomfortable. It made
her
uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted was to be the object of someone’s pity. Nor did she want her children to be.

“No. I’m widowed. Four years now.”

“Sorry,” Alec said again.

Everyone was, including Julia. The unfairness of Scott’s death was something she would never accept, but she had moved on.

“Your kids, they were so little,” Alec said.

“Scott died the week after we registered Danielle for kindergarten. Colin was a toddler.”

“That must have been hard.”

“It was at first,” she admitted. It still wasn’t easy, although she’d gotten better at single parenthood. She meant it when she told Alec, “In a way, my kids have been my salvation.”

They had kept Julia moving forward, forced her to return to the business of living. Not only had her children needed her love and guidance, but they’d also needed to be fed and bathed, read to and watched over—the sort of basic care that she might have been tempted to deny herself if she weren’t also a mother.

Mundane tasks such as washing dishes and going to the grocery store had provided a life raft of sorts. At first, Julia had grabbed on to it for her kids’ sake much more than her own. Eventually, she’d found land again. Yes, her kids had been her salvation. They still were.

“You really mean that.” Awe. That was what Julia heard in Alec’s tone.

“Of course I mean that.” She wanted to tell Alec that someday he would have children of his own and not only discover but also come to understand unconditional love. Unfortunately, she doubted he would agree. So, she said, “It helps that my family is nearby and so supportive.”

Julia figured that would be the end of it. This was boggy territory at best.

“You’re lucky. Not everyone has parents they can count on.”

The statement was made with such authority and conviction that she couldn’t help but be intrigued. And since he’d asked her a personal question, she didn’t feel as awkward in inquiring, “Do your parents live in Chicago?”

This was met with a snort and a short pause. “They have a base of sorts in town. They keep rooms at the Westmore Hotel. They travel. A lot.”

“Oh.” Not sure what else to say, Julia added, “It’s nice that they choose to be near you between trips.”

Again the snort. “Nothing nice about it. I hold the purse strings, and I didn’t give them a choice.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t.” He sighed. “You’re too...nice to see. I may not know you very well, but I can tell you’re too...selfless to understand people like my parents.”

It wasn’t only bitterness she heard in his voice, but pain. “Alec, I didn’t mean to pry. I—”

“It’s all right.” That glimpse of vulnerability was gone and he continued dispassionately, “You may as well know the truth. My parents have no actual income. They’re too busy living the good life to bother to earn a living. They burned through every penny they had a dozen years ago. They lost their house and other property holdings. Their cars were repossessed. Even faced with bankruptcy, they refused to rein in their spending. My grandfather bailed them out. When he died, if he hadn’t left his money in a trust, which he named me to administer, they’d have gone through that, too. They wouldn’t be out on the streets. They’re too good at leaching off of their friends for that. But...”

She pictured him shrugging, but she didn’t buy his indifference.

“I don’t know what to say, Alec.”

Her initial assessment of him as selfish and privileged unraveled a bit more. His life hadn’t been as easy as she’d assumed. She liked the man she now saw, both the compassion he’d exhibited when they spoke of her late husband and the vulnerability he was trying to hide. She told herself it would make her job all that much easier if he truly were a sympathetic figure and, as that young mother had told the television reporter, merely “misunderstood.” But it also made Julia uneasy on a level she didn’t want to think about, because it made falling for him that much easier, too.

“It’s not something I choose to advertise, but it’s not some deep, dark secret, either. It is what it is.”

It also was what had shaped him and created a man who now viewed family life with such skepticism and suspicion. An ache formed in her chest. As tempting as she found it to try to convince him otherwise, this wasn’t the time, nor was it her place. She decided it best to change the subject.

“I’ve heard from Herman Geller. No email this time. An actual call.” The board’s chairman had left a message at her office even before Julia arrived. He’d been effusive in his praise.

“That makes two of us,” Alec said. “Thank you, again. My job is still hanging by a thread, but at least I have that thread.”

“It’s all in a day’s work.” The bored tone she used elicited the laugh she’d hoped for. “Speaking of work, we need to go over what to expect for your interview on
Rise & Shine, Chicago!
And Friday’s radio program, too
.
” Both would be airing live.

Alec sighed. “I suppose you’re going to want to give me wardrobe pointers again?”

He sounded about as disgruntled as Colin did at bath time. Julia would have smiled had she not recalled what had occurred right after the last time she’d helped him pick out his wardrobe.

“Maybe,” she said.

“I’ve got a meeting in fifteen minutes. Can we get together for lunch? My treat,” he offered. “I may even throw in an ice cream cone since I owe you for one.”

“Tempting.” And it was in ways that she wasn’t ready to consider. “But I have to be up at my children’s school. It’s lunch-with-loved-ones day.”

“Lunch with...?” She heard him expel a breath. “All right. We could do it by phone. I’ll give you a call later. Say one o’clock?”

If it were only for his Friday stint on
The Morning Commute with Leo & Lorraine
, Julia would have agreed. But... “It really needs to be in person, Alec, since Thursday’s is a televised interview. Body language carries a lot of weight. We often send signals that we don’t intend.”

“Is that so?” Was she imagining the challenge she heard in his voice? Regardless, she ignored it and the unsettling effect it had on her pulse.

“I can swing by on my way to lunch.” He wasn’t exactly on her way, but she would make it work. “Will eleven o’clock be okay for you? It shouldn’t take too long. I’m thinking half an hour tops. You’ve been going over the talking points, right?”

“I know how to talk, Julia.” His tone was suddenly taciturn.

“Alec—”

“Eleven o’clock. See you then.” He hung up.

Disgruntled, she thought again. But this time, it wasn’t a little boy she was imagining. It was a fully grown and way-too-handsome man, who, just the day before, had kissed her with the kind of skill and passion she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

* * *

Lunch with a loved one.
Alec tapped his pen on the desk blotter. He wanted to be irritated with Julia for putting off business for something so, well, trivial. But he couldn’t be. The very fact that he was playing second fiddle to her kids made him like her all the more.

His parents had rarely visited him at school. In fact, he’d spent the majority of his birthdays alone since they fell while school was in session. Sometimes his grandfather, health permitting, had come to take Alec out for dinner. But it wasn’t the same as having his parents, in particular his mother, who’d given birth to him, acknowledge the occasion. He got cards from them, often a week or so late, mailed from some exotic location. And money, hefty checks written from the bank accounts his folks had been so busy depleting. He would have traded every penny for their time.