Must Like Kids (7 page)

Julia chuckled. “No, but her site averages tens of thousands of hits a week, which makes her very influential when it comes to buying patterns. Not only are you
persona non grata
right now, but you’ve made your company a pariah among her readership, which represents Best For Baby’s core customer base.”

“Dexter is proposing giveaways and special offers to entice people to buy our products,” he said. “Is that something he should approach her about?”

“No. It’s something
you
need to approach her about. Touch base with her today, if at all possible.” Julia rattled off the blog address. “You can find her contact information on there. She’s on West Coast time, so keep that in mind.”

“Sending me into the lion’s den?” he asked wryly.

“Afraid?”

“Petrified.” Though he didn’t quite sound it. She pictured him smiling, maybe lounging back in his chair...shirtless. She lurched forward in her own chair and upset her coffee mug. Brown liquid spread over his file.

“Damn!”

“Everything all right?”

“Yes. I just spilled my coffee,” she told him, blotting it up with some tissues.

“I hope you didn’t burn yourself.”

Oh, Julia felt singed, but not from the coffee. What was it about this man that kept setting her imagination into motion?

“No. I’m fine. The same can’t be said for your file, I’m afraid. It’s ruined.”

“That may be a good thing. Maybe we need to start over.”

It was an interesting thing to say. She wasn’t quite sure she understood what he meant by it. “Hoping to get out of doing a guest blog?” she asked.

“Among other things.”

That made things clear as mud. Several seconds ticked by as she puzzled over it.

“Julia? Are you still there?”

“Yes. Sorry.” She got back to business. “Anyway, in the email I sent Jan, I told her you would love to guest blog on Friday.”

“In other words, you lied.” But he laughed.

“Through my teeth, or rather, my keyboard. I’ll help you draft the content before you send it for posting. Plan to spend a little time monitoring the replies to your post and answering them where possible. Again, I’ll help you with the responses.”

“I can think of more palatable things to do on a Friday, but at least I’ll have company.”

“I, um, won’t be
with
you.”

“Figure of speech.”

She knew that.

“So. If this Jan Owens is so influential, why am I not lined up to do a guest post sooner?”

“First of all, we want a Friday. They are her biggest day traffic-wise. That’s when most of the giveaways occur, so more moms are likely to click in. Secondly, by then we should have a full-blown strategy in place for dealing with the public relations fallout and we can roll out parts of it.”

“Clever. You’ve been busy,” Alec remarked.

His tone held admiration now, maybe even a little gratitude, which she appreciated, since he was the beneficiary of all her hard work.

“Very busy,” she agreed.

“Did you get
any
sleep over the weekend?”

The question, by itself, was innocuous...until the dream reared up from her subconscious. Need of the most basic kind settled low in her belly. Just as she had on Friday night, Julia tried to ignore it. And, just like on Friday night, she was about as successful.

Still, she managed to say in a bored tone, “I got a few winks.”

“Yet you claim not to clock overtime. I think you missed your calling. Instead of being an image consultant, maybe you should teach time management. I’d send you a few of my department heads,” Alec offered. “They don’t know the meaning of prioritizing or how to multitask. You’re apparently a pro.”

It had as much to do with luck as skill. Despite her best-laid plans, sometimes it came down to that. A feverish child, car trouble or a computer glitch could derail everything. That wasn’t the sort of information one confided to a client, however. So, to Alec, she said, “I do my best to stay focused.”

“Focused,” he repeated. “My mother would say we both sound boring.” She thought she heard ringing and then a soft oath. “Speak of the devil.”

“Excuse me?”

“My mother is calling my cell. I don’t want to take this, but I have to.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Julia might have given him points for being a dutiful son had he not sounded so grim.

* * *

It was late when Alec got to his apartment. The place wasn’t home, but it was a refuge of sorts. He’d had the day from hell, with plenty of fires to put out. In addition to his mother’s call and the usual raft of meetings and personnel issues, his public relations disaster was showing no signs of abating. A highly rated television show was making noise about dropping Best For Baby as a sponsor and a group of parents had begun a picket line outside the building. Their signs urged the board to Dump McAvoy among other things, and the media had been there.

Alec had hoped to sneak out through the parking garage unnoticed. They’d swamped his car until security forced them to scatter and let him pass. He could only imagine how the story would play out on the evening news.

He tossed his keys on the console and grabbed an imported beer from the fridge in the kitchen, twisting off the cap on his way to the couch. He switched on the television and channel surfed until he came to a baseball game. The phone rang as he was tugging off his tie.

“You should have called me about the picket,” an irritated female voice said.

“Hello, Julia.” He took a pull of his beer.

“The local news led off with it at six, and they’ve been teasing it for the late broadcast along with a shot of you trying to drive your Porsche through a throng of sign-waving protesters.”

He pinched his eyes closed. “For the record, I didn’t run anyone over.”

“Alec, this is why your board hired me.”

“What would you have done?” he demanded.

“At the very least, I would have had you issue a statement before you left. As it was, you looked like a criminal trying to make a fast getaway.”

He exhaled. Anger warred with exhaustion. “This is ridiculous. I’m not a criminal. I said one stupid thing, and now I’m being crucified.”

“I’m sorry.” There was a slight pause, then she asked, “Long day?”

“Never-ending.”

“Mine, too, but for different reasons.” He heard a sigh.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing work-related.”

He should have been relieved on that score, since he was her main client at the moment, but he found himself curious instead. “You could still share it with me if you want.”

A couple beats of silence passed. Then she admitted, “My daughter and I had a...disagreement.”

“That’s the same thing as a fight, right?” He laughed, hoping to get Julia to do the same, but she sounded every bit as grim as before when she replied, “Pretty much.”

He studied the beer bottle and confided, “My mother and I had one of those today, too. Something must be going around.”

“Gee, you mean I can look forward to this sort of thing for the next thirty years?” This time her laughter echoed through the line.

Alec didn’t join in. He sipped his beer, recalling the argument he and Brooke had had over a catering charge she wanted to put on the account Alec kept at a restaurant where he was a regular. The owner had insisted Brooke have Alec call him before he would book the event—dinner for twelve aboard one of their friends’ boats on Lake Michigan.

“For your sake, I hope not,” he told Julia now. Even as he said it, he heard a child’s voice calling “Mom” in the background. “It sounds like you’re being paged.”

“Always.” But there was a grin in her voice.

“We’ll talk again in the morning.” She paused. “You’ll get through this, Alec.”

His name, said in such a tender tone, touched something inside him. “You almost sound like you believe that.”

“I do.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve never failed a client. I don’t intend for you to be the first.”

They said goodbye and disconnected. Alec finished off his beer and headed to bed. Even though it was pointless, he found himself wishing that Julia’s reasons for wanting to save his hide weren’t totally professional.

* * *

Julia dialed Alec’s number just after ten the following morning. She’d tossed and turned half the night trying to figure out how to mitigate the damage from the protest. That wasn’t the only reason she’d tossed and turned, but it was the only one she could think about without becoming flushed.

“Good morning,” she said when he came on the line.

“Is it? I’ve already had an email from Herman Geller.”

“I know. He cc’d me.”

“Then you are aware that my approval rating among members of the board is bad and heading toward worse. Some of them didn’t want to give me a second chance as it was. If they convince enough of their colleagues to feel the same way...” He left it at that.

“I know.” Both of their jobs were on the line. “I have a plan. Clear your schedule for a few hours starting around one o’clock.”

“Why?”

His voice held trepidation. She had the feeling it would hold an emotion far more unpleasant when he heard what she was about to say.

“A local mother’s group is holding its annual picnic in Grant Park. I thought we could stop in for an hour or so. You could ooh and ahh over the little ones and maybe help judge the cutest baby contest at three.”

After she said it, Julia held her breath. The silence was telling, but she gave Alec points for not swearing.

“Are you still there?” she asked after a moment.

“I’m here.”

“Well?”

A mild oath slipped out half under his breath this time. “Is this is absolutely necessary?”

“Honestly? I don’t see another way to convince the public that you’re not some kind of monster without, well, making sure you are seen out and about with children.”

“I get that, but can’t I just make an appearance and call it good without judging babies?”

“It won’t be so bad.”

“I don’t know the first thing about babies. They make me nervous. As it is, I’m not that good around older children.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You did fine with mine at the ball diamond last Friday.”

Sure, Alec had been a little awkward, especially at first. Danielle didn’t like him, but that wasn’t because of anything he’d done. Her kids hadn’t found him frightening or creepy. If they had, they would have said so. They were unflaggingly honest in that way. All kids were.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What if I wind up pelted with pacifiers or booed out of the park?”

His attempt at humor came as a welcome surprise. Julia chuckled at the visual. “I don’t think it will come to that. I know one of the organizers.”

“Calling in another favor?”

“Let’s just say I promised her that Best For Baby would offer a savings bond to the contest winner, and it doesn’t hurt that we’ll be passing out coupons for a free package of diapers.”

“My reputation is being salvaged by something worn on a baby’s butt. Great,” he muttered. “So, you’ll be there, too?”

Foolishly, her heart kicked out an extra beat. Her tone purposefully glib, she asked, “Afraid to go into the lion’s den alone?”

“Hell yes. Besides, if I have to suffer through an afternoon of glad-handing and gratuitous fawning, I think you should, too.”

“I don’t think it will be as painful as all that,” she told him. “But I promise to stick by you the entire time.”

“Something to look forward to.” His reply had her smiling. “Where do you want to meet?”

“How about the lobby of your apartment building in, say, half an hour?”

“My apartment building?”

“You’ll need to change your clothes for this.”

“And you need to approve my attire.”

She neither confirmed nor denied his response. “Half an hour,” she said again. “’Bye.”

* * *

When Alec arrived, Julia was already in the lobby, leaning against the front desk and chatting with the security guard. It didn’t surprise him that she’d beat him there, even though his office was closer. He’d been waylaid by a couple of phone calls, including one from her reporter friend. What did surprise him was her easy manner with Hank Maloney, the grizzled-looking, retired cop who stood sentinel in the apartment building’s lobby Monday through Friday. Alec had lived in the building for nearly four years and he’d never heard Hank’s voice, except for an occasional grunt that served as a greeting.

The older man’s leathery face was split with a grin now. He had his wallet out and was showing Julia pictures of his grandkids.

“They’re just precious, Hank.”

“Smart as whips, too,” he replied. “I’ve been puttin’ aside some of the pension money I get from the city so that they’ll be able to get into a good college someday without having to take out loans. My boy, he teaches at a parochial school. His wife, too. They started a college fund right after the kids were born, but the way tuition is rising, it ain’t going to be enough.”

“Tell me about it,” she said grimly. She spotted Alec then and straightened. Her expression turned businesslike. “Hello, Alec.”

She was dressed in navy capri pants and a floral print top that was belted at the waist with a length of satin ribbon. The blouse’s butterfly sleeves fluttered as she waved goodbye to the guard and crossed the lobby to Alec. The outfit, which she’d paired with low sandals, was perfect for an afternoon of strolling about the park. He’d bet she’d changed. He couldn’t see her wearing that to her office.

Girl next door, he thought. She had that appeal. Especially when she offered a guileless smile as she stepped with him into the old-fashioned elevator. He pulled the gate closed, punched his floor and was grateful that the short elevator ride made conversation unnecessary. The way he was feeling, he was bound to say something foolish.

His apartment occupied the top floor of a turn-of-the century building that had been updated to include all of the modern amenities, such as a jetted tub, walk-in closets and a gourmet kitchen. Whoever had renovated the place had been smart enough to retain its period charm, keeping intact coffered ceilings, coved moldings and the parquet wood floors that ran throughout.