Unlikely Allies (43 page)

“Is he still breathing?” Cece asked, knowing her dad too well.

Rick cuddled up from behind Maggie and stroked her swelling stomach. “He’ll live.” He tucked his chin into the crook of her neck and breathed in the new peach and honey almond scent he’d slathered on her skin this morning.

Cece rolled her eyes just like her aunt did about a hundred times a day and pecked her mama and him on the cheek. “I love you.” After they returned the sentiment, she left them to commiserate with one another, tossing a casual see-ya-later wave over her head, but an eager little hop and skip relayed her enthusiasm to get going. As he watched his sweet pea take gigantic steps into adulthood, the only thing that quelled his displeasure was the fact that there might not be much remaining of Robert once she reached him.

Matt and Alex worshipped Cece as if she were their own daughter. Horatio Stone would lay down his own life for his precious princess. And Kat would hack off pieces one by one from anyone who hurt her bucket head. Once they all took their hits at Robert, Cece would have to accept whatever fragment or cell still had life. This event might just make it into the record books as the shortest dating experience in history.

Maggie kissed him under the chin and swayed along with him to the funky rap song playing from her cell phone. Her eclectic tastes in music were on whenever she cooked, took a shower, or planted vegetables and herbs in her garden.

He rubbed his thumb along her belly button and sucked on the birthmark at the base of her neck. “How’s the baby?”

“Hmm, jumpy. He likes music too.” She rested her head on his shoulder, relaxing into his chest while he felt her up. The bundle rotating and kicking in his hand.

“Maybe
she
just has the same taste and cravings as her mama?”

Maggie spun around and slung her arms over his neck. “You just jinxed yourself. Can you handle another girl? Because I hate to tell you this, your daughter gave you a C on the first date test. She cut you a break and didn’t fail you for poor performance.”

The thumping bass picked up and so did they, rocking their hips and gyrating against each other. “That’s excellent. Maybe her mama should provide private tutoring. I have a lot of lessons in mind.” He emphasized his need by rubbing his length over the seam of her shorts, his finger tracing the stitching and offering a hint at objective number one. “What a ya say, Mrs. Stone? Got any room for me?” He tucked his hand under the hem of her nylon shorts and slipped beneath her panties, marking the moist starting point with a stroking introduction.

“Mmm, I think I can find time on my schedule. But you’re gonna have to give up something real good to convince me since I’m extremely tight.”

The clench around his fingers, dipping in and out of her, confirmed he needed to squeeze in a couple incentives to get what he wanted. “What if I’m real, real bad and need extra special attention. You know, to perform just right.”

Maggie nibbled along his bottom lip, humming in agreement.

He unzipped his jeans and lined up his erection. A gap appeared when he removed his fingers. “It looks like you’re wide open right now.” Ending any further discussion, he devoured her mouth, their tongues dueling each other. As an overeager and committed student, he braced for a hard and long ride. His legs spread wide, he palmed her butt and dove in head first.

School—now in session.

Since bad boys had tons of needs, he required Mrs. Stone’s individualized attention to complete hours of homework before, during, and after instruction.

Under Mrs. Stone’s guidance, he earned an A+++.

A perfect score.

Five years later . . .

“Mrs. C, where’s that hammer?” Rick shouted, propping the framed Ansel Adams photograph of lower Yosemite Falls against the pine green wall. They had camped there last summer and since the park had been Cece’s favorite, he figured she’d appreciate the addition.

“Are you looking for this?”

Not expecting her to arrive this early, the question caught him by surprise, causing him to lose his balance on the padded chair. He threw his hand out to the wall to steady his footing and glanced over his shoulder. A few inches shorter than his six-two, Cece leaned against the doorjamb, a hammer waving in her left hand. Her asymmetrical, shaggy haircut would take some getting used to. For so long she wore it hip length, often in pigtails or a ponytail until she turned ten, then she let the abundant, bouncy curls flow free. Over the weekend, she cut them all off, showing up for Sunday dinner with the hacked, uneven strands, shorter in the back, longer in the front, like sideburns jutting an inch below her jaw. If the cherry-red strands were dyed blond, she’d end up looking like her crazy aunt’s twin. He didn’t know whether it had been a rite of passage, Cece’s coming of age, twenty-one-year-old thing to do, but the cutting-edge style made him cringe. The punk rock, grunge, head-banger combination represented an anti-executive stance. Since Cece always marched to the beat of her own drum, he shouldn’t have been shocked in the least bit. Other than that though, she embraced every bit of the corporate powerhouse persona and suited attire.

“Daddy, you don’t have to do that. I can put it up.”

Once he got on solid footing again, he placed the frame on her desk and pulled her into a crushing bear hug. “I wanted your first day to be a good one. I got all the other pictures up. You’re early.”

Cece pulled her head off his shoulder and looked at him. Her are-you-crazy smile pulled up the left side of her mouth. “Daddy . . .” She pecked him on the chin, then swiped her thumb across his jaw, wiping off her lipstick. “I’m not a newbie. I can handle decorating my office.”

Yeah, when Cece turned sixteen she started an internship with him, attended board meetings, and trained for an associate’s position. After graduating with a business management degree last week, he’d offered her a partnership, and she’d accepted.

He brushed his thumb along her cheek, his heart pinching at how fast his sweet pea had grown up. The city had been a huge draw. Cece moved into a Manhattan apartment a month after her acceptance letter to Columbia College arrived. He couldn’t believe four years had gone by, and his baby would be embarking into the next stage of adulthood, an executive at Gateway Enterprises. His dad may have had grand visions of his son working at his side, but Rick never encouraged his daughter to become involved. He didn’t want that type of pressure on a child, not the kind he’d put on himself anyway. Even so, the legacy had been achieved, and the company was at the top. In the process he’d learned about the necessity of balance. He hadn’t let the job rule him after Maggie and Cece became his. Life was too short. He wanted to enjoy his blessings, and he had every reason to. With Maximilian and Katarina just finishing ninth grade and River in preschool, he kept slowing down more and more, took weekends off, and two months scattered throughout the year for family vacations—a renewed tradition that included his parents’ cabin in the Catskills, amusement parks, and camping. As well as any other place or activity Maggie and the kids dreamed up. He became their enthusiastic cheerleader and participated right along with them. Just as his dad had done and brought him full circle. His mom said his father always wanted him to get married and have children. To focus on family, not work. But he hadn’t needed Mom to open his eyes. He figured it out. Finally.

Now he had to move on to the next phase, handing over the reins. He hadn’t anticipated Cece would jump in and take over. She approached him about learning the ropes, and even though he tried many times to talk her out of it, as usual, her persistence wore him down. And here they were, in her office, adjacent to his. But she wouldn’t be doing it alone. He hired a dozen top business graduates the past month, many of them were homeless teens who lived in the Kensington shelter and interned at Gateway alongside Cece. His philanthropic daughter had become an active volunteer and contributor to the youth home. She obtained a seat on their board at eighteen and hit the pavement running, using her charms to schmooze wealthy execs and celebs, netting millions in donations. John took her under his wing, mentored her, and developed a fond affection for her during their jogging fests, which she had tagged along on since middle school. A track star, 10k events were her preference, but she won many first place ribbons and trophies for sprints, hurdles, and relays. Always on the move, she didn’t slow down often, and when she did, martial arts, cooking, and ballet were her hobbies.

“It’ll be okay.” Cece patted him on the cheek, pulling him back to the present.

“I love you.”

Cece’s smiling eyes darted from him to her desk. Two crystal vases were on each corner, where he always placed her flowers. He gave them to her for every special occasion. She’d be his sweet pea and baby, forever.

“Knock, knock.”

They spun around to find Maggie with her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “I guess my daughter has left me in the dust again.”

Laughing the entire way to the entrance, Cece tucked an arm around her mama’s waist and strolled toward her desk. “Since Miss Sally was gonna tell you how bad River was being again, I figured I’d get out of there before she gave you a report about me too.”

He sat riveted to the edge of the leather trim between the two vases and secured his wife and daughter’s hand in each of his. “Why? Should we prepare for something you haven’t told us yet?”

With an innocent blink, Cece stuck out her tongue and sucked it back in, announcing with sugary sweetness, “I’m the stay out of trouble, good child. Just remember that when you’re bailing River out. And as the older sister I feel obliged to warn you, Katarina and Max are the sneaky ones and instigators.”

“Lying again, cupcake.”

The boisterous, take-charge claim wrenched their attention from each other to the street- smart Don Juan in the doorway.

Rick scooted off the desk and extended his hand to the new associate. At that exact moment Cece grumbled an f-bomb under her breath. “Carter, welcome to Gateway. Eight on the nose. A good start.” A firm and confident handshake gripped Rick’s and spoke volumes about the tenacious, top-of-his-class Harvard graduate. Yet no one would ever suspect Carter lived on the streets for three years before volunteers at Kensington House unearthed his stabbed and bleeding remains, buried under boxes at the foot of the Manhattan Bridge, saving him at age fifteen.

“You can depend on me, sir.” Carter launched another greeting directed over Rick’s shoulder. “Mrs. Stone, a pleasure to see you again.”

“You too. I trust my husband and daughter will keep you busy, but make sure you have fun. Take time to enjoy other things.”

Carter’s eyes flicked to Cece and narrowed. “Oh, don’t worry, I plan to.” Then switched to his boss. “Mr. Stone, where do you want me to start?”

Rick wanted to begin by knocking the smug smirk off Carter’s face and throwing him out, far away from his fit-to-be-tied daughter. But Cece banished her daddy and his overprotective instincts years ago after he showed up unannounced at her apartment, let himself in with his emergency key, and got the wind knocked out of him when he found a boxer-clad jock flipping pancakes in her kitchen. His daughter strolled in a few seconds later, wearing a crotch-skimming towel with tangled, wet locks dripping over her bare shoulders.

Not only did he have to bite his tongue, but he had to swear on a stack of bibles he wouldn’t interfere in her love life. Not that she had boyfriends. No, his daughter embraced college freedom and took after his one-night stand escapades. Payback and punishment for his wild and no-commitments attitude—his adult daughter’s choices came back to haunt him.

“Oh, I’ll take care of him all right. He’ll be tossed out with the trash in three . . . two . . .” As Cece spit out her threat and before her fire-breathing temper sparked, Carter wandered around Rick and drifted to a stop at her stilettos, taking her on toe to toe.

Since the two of them began as Gateway interns together, Rick had watched them butt heads. Carter’s dogged strength and savviness gave him a supreme advantage. His uncanny knack for reading people made him an excellent hire, and regardless of their differences, when Carter and Cece collaborated on accounts, they closed deals better than anyone else.

Wider than a linebacker, Carter’s shoulders blocked Rick’s view. Maggie huddled up next to him. She looped her arm through his and linked their fingers together. Laying her head on his shoulder, she prepared to watch the fireworks. With his hands tied, he rocked back on his heels and waited for the explosive show. Reduced to mere spectators, but not too old to get their kicks, Maggie aligned her lips along his ear and whispered, “Fifty bucks she has him on his knees in less than ten seconds.”

Not willing to make a wager, or picture Carter in that position at the foot of his daughter, he swallowed his grumbling protest and took the sucker bet. Hard to resist his wife, he upped the ante. “I want it noted I’m throwing down a hundred under duress. My man card and his are about to go down in flames.”

Maggie patted his chest and pinched his chin, pulling it toward her and away from the head-on collision and catastrophe. The teeny gap and her deliriously happy smile appeared as she pronounced, “Thou shall submit to the mighty Wonder Woman.”