Unlikely Allies (6 page)

“We have a specialist coming in to help the kids and teachers learn sign language. They’ll be spending extra time with Robin and Cece if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, whatever you think will help. Is there anything I can do?”

“Since you come in sometimes for lunch, you might have the girls show you the signs. You could practice with Cece. All kids are welcome here, and I want Robin to feel accepted. Cece will be a good friend to her. Besides, the other children already follow her lead.”

Jeez, she never could have predicted this morning would’ve turned out so positive. Well, at least she now had confirmation her daughter recognized limits and could follow rules. She’d just have to be patient and celebrate the moments when she did at home too. Use praise, lots and lots of praise, and maybe stickers. Cece loved them.

“We good?” Miss Sally got up and opened the door.

“Yep. Excellent, in fact. You just made my day.”

Miss Sally’s understanding and warm smile made her feel better about her parenting skills. See, rules weren’t so bad after all. She returned a glorious grin, feeling it all the way to her ears.

As soon as she entered the lobby, she pumped a fist at her side. “Yes.” The curious stares of the passersby at the security and information desk didn’t bother her one bit. Nope. Not this time. Satisfied in her abilities as a single parent, she couldn’t wait to rub the good news in Kat’s face over and over again. As much as she loved one-upping her sister, she delighted in being right even more.

B
ETWEEN CLASSES AT THE CULINARY
Institute and cooking the early and late curriculum lunches at Le Gourmet as a portion of her grade, by the time Maggie arrived at Westlake for the night shift, her feet were throbbing. She couldn’t wait to collapse in the ergonomic leather chair Matt had purchased for her. When the elevator opened on the twentieth floor, she attempted to take a step into the foyer, but Cece darted past her. “Stop.” She reached out to snag her backpack and missed it by an inch. Cece kicked into warp speed and dashed through the double-wide glass doors of Gateway Enterprises. As she ran after her and into an open workspace with clusters of desks grouped together, employees’ heads turned and tracked them as they ran past, around the corner, and down the hallway.

At Mr. Stone’s closed door, Cece came to an abrupt stop, giving her a chance to catch up. God, she felt old. Since when could a four-year-old beat her in a foot race? Pitiful. Cece dropped her backpack, lifted her hand to knock, and Maggie caught it just in time. “No.”

“Mama, I wanna see Max.” Cece’s lower lip jutted out. “I got somefin for him.”

“Can I help you?” A woman with gray hair and glasses approached them. Dressed in a pale yellow silk skirt and blouse, the professional outfit matched the surroundings, but her simple, courteous greeting came across as warm and welcoming in this intimidating environment. The lady crouched down to Cece’s height and said, “Hi, what’s your name, sweetie?”

“Ya know Max?” Cece’s bold persistence continued to shine. “I gotta give him somefin.”

“Max, hmm, well, I do. He’s in a meeting right now. If you tell me your name I can let him know you stopped by.”

About to redirect her daughter, Maggie reached out, but Cece spun around, threw a hand over Maggie’s arm, and pounded on the door. “Max, Max.”

Maggie yanked Cece’s fist away and addressed the woman. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m his secretary, Mrs. Collins.” She offered her hand in greeting along with an amused smile.

The gesture returned, Maggie introduced herself and Cece, and apologized again for her daughter’s behavior.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s not even in there. He’s in the conference room.” Mrs. Collins pointed to a door across the hall. Just then, two men in suits appeared in the opening.

“Max.” Cece ran over to him and another man, staring at both of the giants. “I got ya somefin.”

Mr. Stone’s eyebrows rose and the other man chuckled, elbowing him in the arm. “You going to introduce us?” Mr. Stone’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. The other guy stuck his hand out and said, “Hey, who are you, little lady?”

Again, Cece ignored the introduction and took Mr. Stone’s hand, dragging him over to where she and Mrs. Collins stood. He stumbled forward, his gate at odds with Cece’s tiny steps. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a piece of yellow construction paper. “See. I made it for ya.”

All of the adults were huddled around looking at the duck-shaped cut-out, green strips like grass affixed to its mouth.
Cecily
written in crooked and jagged letters across the stomach and
Max
too. In between, what could be mistaken as a plus sign or just one of Cece’s scribbled letters. “I drawled it.” Cece shoved the image toward Mr. Stone, almost punching him in the stomach.

Maggie grabbed Cece’s shoulder and tugged, trying to get her to take a few steps back. The muscles under Maggie’s hand stiffened as Cece’s body became a statue and remained front and center, toe to toe with Mr. Stone. “Ya like it?”

He brushed a fingertip over his name and cleared his throat. “Yes.” But it was so low, had Maggie been a foot away, she wouldn’t have heard. His stare shifted from Cece and the picture to her and held there a while. His expression blank, lips set in a straight line, and not a flicker in his pinpoint, hazel eyes.

Maggie got lost in his penetrating gaze. Ringing phones in the background, murmurs of people talking, and the clacking of fingers on keyboards faded away. A strange bodily reaction took over: chills, heat, chills, heat. If she didn’t know better, she’d think menopause had set in. Since that wasn’t likely, she figured someone must have been messing with the temperature in the room, because changes like that weren’t common for her.

“Maggie, your sister’s looking for you,” Matt called out, Cece already in his arms and chatting his ear off. Her daughter adored him. A family man with three young girls, Matt doted on her from the time they met, giving her the undivided attention she craved.

A few days after moving here, Kat drove her and Cece into downtown to show off where she worked. Not long after introductions, Matt had offered her a job. She’d already been accepted at the institute, a unique chance to learn from the top chefs in the city. When she relayed that to Matt, he suggested the night shift, and it had become the perfect solution. Kat’s rave reviews about her computer skills didn’t hurt either. She didn’t mind since she wasn’t in any position to turn down work. The fact he paid five dollars more an hour than her grandparents did to cook at their Greek restaurant helped too. So far she enjoyed working for him and getting to know the ins and outs of the security industry.

Mrs. Collins handed Cece’s backpack to Maggie, bumping her arm and pulling her thoughts away from her boss. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Thank you, you too.” Maggie returned the gracious smile Mrs. Collins offered.

After picking up a purse from her desk, Mrs. Collins said good night. The executive who’d greeted Cece excused himself from the group, mentioning he’d call Rick in a few days. Matt snuck off with Cece, heading toward his office. Maggie glanced at the duck still clasped in Mr. Stone’s hand. “I can take that and put it in my purse. I’ll hide it when I get home if you don’t want it.”

He waved the cut-out in her face. “You heard her. She made it for
me.
You’re not getting it.”

“I just—”

He stormed into his office. As she watched his departing back, the CEO nameplate and wood panel shut in her face. That hadn’t gone well. She raised her hand to knock but withdrew it. Nope, she didn’t need to explain herself.

Throwing the backpack over her shoulder, she swiped a hand through a stray hair that had fallen in her eyes and went to work.

It didn’t matter. He was nobody. He didn’t mean a thing to her.

R
ICK REORGANIZED THE FILES ON
the conference table and stacked them to give to his secretary. A door slammed behind him.

“What the hell kind of show are you running around here?”

He didn’t even have to turn around. Same tune different day. It didn’t matter that the board of directors and investors lived happily off his back or that profit margins surpassed a hundred percent. None of it amounted to enough for the crotchety pain in his ass.

“You gonna continue to ignore me, boy?”

With his hands fisted on the table, he drew in a ragged breath and faced his nemesis.

“Grandfather.”

“Why is it that every time I walk in this place, it’s like a damn circus around here? And this . . .” He waved the papers in his clenched palm. “The latest profit reports. You need to do better.”

The veins in Rick’s neck throbbed, and he imagined the blood pressure coursing through them, screaming for a release. His grandfather, Horatio Stone, mentored Rick to assume the CEO role while he worked on his business and law degrees. It didn’t matter how prepared Rick had become, Grandfather talked to him like he was a two-bit hoodlum. Dad and Gramps were not only business partners but shared the same philosophy: family came first. But when Dad passed away, Gramps changed, focusing every bit of his energy on his son’s company and driving his grandson mad. On a daily basis Grandfather called or came by to batter him about his progress, scrutinize the bottom line, and ride him about making the business a success. The power-hungry mogul escalated the stress already associated with the high-performance risks he dealt with when companies merged or bought each other out. If it weren’t for the vow he’d made to his dad, he would’ve taken his business and law degrees and hightailed it out of here a long time ago, getting as far away from Grandfather as he could. He wouldn’t though. When he made a promise, he kept it.

“I’ll look at them after my next meeting.” He stacked the folders and strutted toward the door. As he took a step past his grandfather, the obstinate man clamped down on his shoulder, halting his escape.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Rick’s nostrils flared, and he yanked his arm away, shooting a glare that didn’t hide his animosity. “I’ll go over them and be in touch.” He turned his back on Grandfather and strolled out of the room.

“Dinner at Presidio, seven o’clock. Don’t be late,” his grandfather shouted.

His briefcase in hand, Rick exited the building for a long afternoon of off-site meetings.