The Daddy Gamble Page 8

  Maybe it’s a reaction to the stress of my meeting with Ian?

  And Rob’s coming off a confrontation at work.

  Maybe we both need to play hooky from our lives for a few minutes.

  He touched a button on the steering wheel. “Call Ginny Lewis.”

  A programmed female voice responded. “Calling Ginny Lewis.”

  Rob glanced her way as the phone rang. “My Realtor. We were supposed to meet at this house after work. Maybe she can meet us there early.”

  Ginny answered in two rings. “Absolutely. My pleasure. I’ll be there in fifteen. Twenty tops.”

  Kate could tell by the woman’s tone she thought she had the sale wrapped up. Too bad Rob’s so ambivalent about relocating to Vegas. She’d overheard him talking with his mother after work one evening. Jo had argued that Rob should rent a house, at the very least, if he didn’t want to buy. Rob had countered that even the idea of signing a long-term lease made him queasy.

  “Can I ask you something? Why are your looking at a place you’ll probably never buy? Jo says you’ve got one foot in Vegas and the other on a banana peel.” Before he could answer, she added, “Where is this place, any way?”

  “In a new development east of Henderson.”

  She’d heard of a high end development going up in that area.

  “Liz’s house is only a mile or so from here,” she volunteered as they turned off Boulder Highway. “And my cousin Enzo’s auto repair shop is over that way.”

  “Speaking of cars. How’s yours running?”

  “Great.” She took a noisy slurp of her drink. “Have you talked to your dad lately? Are they back from their honeymoon?”

  He smiled at her quick diversion. “We haven’t spoken, but I’ve gotten several emails from both of them. They had a great time in Tahiti. Photos to follow. Oh, and they absolutely loved the glass sculpture you helped me pick out. Dad said Haley cried when she saw it.”

  “Haley is nicer than you expected, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, although I shouldn’t have been surprised. Dad always had good taste in women—even when he was married to my mom.”

  Kate turned her chin to look at him, confident her sunglasses would hide the surprise she felt hearing an unexpected bitterness in his tone. At the wedding he’d seemed to get along so well with both of his parents. “If you’d asked me a minute ago what sort of childhood Rob Brighten had, I would have said idyllic. From what I could see at the wedding, your divorced parents get along better than some of the married couples present. Did I miss something?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. Their divorce was textbook no-fault. I’d reached the age of majority. They both had careers. They split their joint assets fifty-fifty.”

  Sounded right. But she sensed there was more to the story. Come to think of it, Rob does act a little different around his dad. Stiffer. More formal. Like he might around a future father-in-law. “You aren’t close to your dad, are you?”

  “I love him, but I don’t necessarily respect some of the choices he’s made in the past.”

  “I can sympathize. I recently learned about some of the mistakes my father made when he was alive. Poor Grace took the revelations pretty hard, but then, as the baby of the family, she’d been closest to Dad.”

  Although Daddy had a way of making me feel as if I truly were a princess. Too bad Ian was a frog, not a prince.

  “Kingston Parlier was no saint, but he loved his family above all else, so we’ve pretty much put his transgressions in the past. What’s that saying? Something about being able to pick your friends, but you can’t escape your family?”

  He chuckled but didn’t reply. Kate watched the cityscape fade away as they neared the new housing development that, according to the billboard-size map they just passed included several lakes, an upscale casino and a very high-end shopping area. “I heard Celine Dion bought a house here. You might be her neighbor.”

  “I doubt it. She has much deeper pockets than mine.”

  She and Ian had lived in a wealthy housing development, too. For a few months. Before the roof fell in my life.

  Half an hour later, she was seated on a sturdy bench at a breakfast nook in a gloriously sunny kitchen. While Rob talked to Ginny, a fifty-something woman with curly blond hair and lots of jewelry, Kate looked around, picturing the kinds of decorator touches she’d add if she lived there. Window treatments. Something tailored and classy that didn’t take away from the view.

  When Ginny suddenly disappeared, Rob joined her.

  “First impression?”

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “But…” he said, as if hearing her unspoken qualification.

  “It’s big. Smart from a resale point of view, but one could go broke trying to furnish it.”

  He let out a soft hoot. “The woman makes a joke. That’s encouraging. I was afraid that meeting today might have done you in.”

  She tossed up her hands. “Me? I’m fine. I can handle anything that goes down with Ian. My main concern at the moment is Maya.”

  “Me, too. Tomorrow’s swimming lessons. I’ve never tried to teach someone who hates my shoes.”

  She kicked her foot sideways to tap his. “Wear flip-flops. She’ll come around.”

  “So, we’re still on for lessons? If you’d rather postpone…”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, Charlie. You can’t back out now. Mom jumped on that idea you had about inviting some other kids. She’s a sucker for men in need.”

  Rob’s brow crinkled in confusion, but before he could ask her to clarify the comment, Ginny returned.

  Kate barely heard the woman’s comments she was so distracted by the saucy mischievous twinkle in Rob’s eyes. Flirtatious, even. Which brought up the memory of their kiss in the freezer. What would that have been like if I’d initiated it?

  “Did I hear someone say something about swimming?” the Realtor asked as she spread a bright and glorious trifold pamphlet on the counter in front of them. “Your house has a pool, but there’s also two, gorgeous, Olympic-size community pools with private cabanas that you can reserve for big parties. How many children do you have?”

  “One. She’s four and a half going on twelve,” Rob answered, standing up. He offered his hand to Kate to help her rise, but she ignored it, standing up on her own.

  “We’re not married,” she said bluntly.

  Ginny, who was consulting her paperwork as she walked away, called back, “No problem. I’ve made tons of sales to unmarried couples.”

  “But—”

  Rob cut her off with a boyish wink so playful Kate’s insides went a little haywire. She almost had to sit down again because her knees suddenly felt disconnected from her body.

  “Technically, this home’s water feature is considered a lap pool, but there’s plenty of room to put in something more child-friendly if you want.” Ginny stopped at a bank of windows and pointed. “You have deck access from the family room and kitchen, but check out this great view from the formal dining room before we go upstairs, then we’ll take the exterior staircase to the patio.”

  Rob grabbed Kate’s hand and tugged her after him. Normally, she’d have pulled back, but his hand felt solid and friendly, not domineering. She liked the feeling. She liked Rob. Too much for her own good? Probably.

  Forty-five minutes later, they bid Ginny goodbye and got into Rob’s car. Neither spoke right away. Kate was still mulling over the fact that she’d toured a gorgeous house—one she’d have bought in a heartbeat if she’d had the money—and had more or less pretended to be Rob’s significant other. She didn’t play games, so why the ruse? Because it felt good to be part of a couple again? Or because it felt good to be with Rob?

  “You didn’t like the place, did you?”

  Startled, she glanced sideways.

  “I think it’s fabulous. Too big for one person, in my opinion, but it would make a lovely home for the right family.”

  He had his sunglasses on, so although he looke
d at her while they waited for the light to change, she couldn’t tell anything from his expression.

  “Can I ask you something and count on an honest answer?”

  His serious, lawyerly tone made her heart speed up. “You don’t think I’m honest?”

  “I think you’re brutally honest when it comes to business, but in your personal life…well, is it true you haven’t been on a date since your divorce? I don’t mean that to sound judgmental. I haven’t exactly jumped right back into the dating pool myself.”

  “Because your girlfriend broke your heart?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m the one who called off the engagement when I realized we were getting married for the wrong reason.”

  “What was that?”

  “To make her dad--my boss--happy.”

  She could relate. Hadn’t making her family happy factored into her decision to marry Ian, too? “That can’t be the only reason you proposed.”

  “No. We had a lot of fun together before we decided it was time to grow up and get serious. Only, we never really quite agreed on what that mean. Basically, we had two completely different agendas. She plunged into the social aspects of a wedding while I wanted to take my time and explore the concept of being married. I…I wanted something else. I’m not sure what exactly.”

  “Your mother’s been concerned because you’re still living in a residential hotel and you don’t have any friends. She thinks Vegas is just a layover in your life.”

  He pulled into traffic and didn’t respond right away. When he answered, his tone held a note of dry humor. “Mom’s almost as intuitive as your mother—and Jo’s not even Romani.”

  Kate waited for him to elaborate.

  “I didn’t want this job. The Vegas office has had a lousy reputation almost since the day it opened, so being sent here was definitely a step down on the ladder of success. I’m sure the senior partners of the firm expected me to quit rather than suffer the humiliation, but I’m a little too bullheaded for that.”

  She smiled. “Something we have in common. My sisters use that term all the time when they talk about me.”

  “My plan was to whip the place into shape then get out. The fact that Mom lived here was a nice bonus, but not a huge motivating factor. We’re both pretty independent people. And I really haven’t had the time or inclination to date—until now.”

  His directness made her inch sideways in the seat. “Do you mean me? No. We can’t date. I’m all wrong for you.”

  “I can tell you believe that. But I also sense a connection between us that deserves to be explored.”

  Damn. Hadn’t she admitted as much to herself?

  When she didn’t shoot down his argument, he looked around as if to get his bearings, then two quick turns later, they pulled into the parking lot of a three-story building she recognized from the logo as a residential hotel.

  “Is this where you’re staying?”

  “Yes, but don’t panic. I’m not trying to seduce you. I just want to talk without wrecking my car.” One well-placed tree offered enough shade that they could sit in the convertible without roasting. “Unless, of course, you’d like to go inside and be seduced?”

  Kate pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and squinted at him. “Why do I suddenly feel like you’re Dustin Hoffman and I’m Mrs. Robinson?”

  He laughed. “You’re much too young and desirable to be Anne Bancroft. I know because Mom and I watched that movie before Dad’s wedding. I can’t tell you how happy I was that no old boyfriend showed up at the chapel.”

  The easy, genuine sincerity in his tone made her do the unexpected. She leaned over and kissed him. Quick, friendly, playful.

  The small car didn’t afford much room to maneuver, but he pulled her to him. Her arms settled around his neck. He caressed her back.

  “What kind of perfume are you wearing?”

  She startled, as if suddenly remembering where she was. “That would be eau de Play-Doh. I was helping Maya make a castle for her Little People this morning.”

  “That’s it,” he exclaimed. “I don’t think that smell has changed since I was a kid.”

  She cocked her head and ran her finger along the edge of his jaw. “You’re still a kid compared to me.”

  He nipped at her finger when it got close to his chin. “True. You’re practically ancient.”

  She gave him her serious look--the one that made Maya stop what she was doing and readjust. “I’m four years older than you.”

  “I know. Which is why we’re going to bury—no, cremate—this nonissue here and now. Okay?”

  She couldn’t tell if he was making fun of her or not.

  “Kate, my dad just married a woman nearly thirty years his junior. Didn’t seem to bother either of them.”

  “But—”

  He cut her off. “You’re not going to say something sexist about older men and trophy wives, are you?”

  She bit her lip to keep from grinning. “Maybe.”

  “Well, forget it. According to Haley, she stalked Dad. She hunted him down and twisted his arm to go out with her.”

  “Why? I mean, your dad’s an attractive guy, but…”

  “LAFS.”

  “Laughs?”

  “L.A.F.S.,” he spelled. “Love At First Sight.”

  Kate burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. “Hey, I’m glad your dad and Haley got their storybook ending, but I’m a single mom with a daughter who is scheduled to meet her parolee father in the very near future. The only happily-ever-after I can expect to see anytime soon will come at the end of the fairy tales I read to her at night.”

  She touched her palm to his chin, savoring the slight prickle of beard. If she were completely honest she’d admit she missed having a man in her life. “If I were at a different place in my life, Rob, I guarantee I’d take you up on your offer, but…”

  “Kate, before you say no, think about what I’m suggesting. It doesn’t have to be right now. In fact, I have to get back to the office. But a little seduction between friends might be just what we both need. Lord knows I could use some.”

  Then, he kissed her again—the way he had in her fantasy. She’d been wrestling with this dilemma for days. And nights. In one dream she pictured him coaching Maya to a trophy at some future swim meet; in another, she’d see him taking her in his arms and making soul-filling love with her. Last night, she’d imagined Maya standing between them while they said their marriage vows.

  It’s entirely possible that I am cracking up under the pressure and losing my mind. And tonight her dreams probably would be X-rated.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning came a little too soon for Rob. He’d spent a restless night tossing and turning. A combination of guilt and regret stemming from his fizzled attempt at seduction and his ongoing frustration at work. Kate had been right to shoot down his suggestion.

  She needs to stay focused on Maya. I need to keep my mind on the job.

  Simple.

  So when—if—he saw her this morning at swim lessons, he’d apologize for being an idiot.

  As he looked around Yetta’s backyard, he could see only men—and little kids, from toddlers in their fathers’ arms to a pensive-looking youngster Rob recognized from court. Mary Ann’s son. Luke? Lucas? Luca.

  Yetta joined him. “I hope I didn’t invite too many. Once I put the word out, men seemed to come out of the woodwork. I had no idea there were so many fathers who wanted to spend quality time with their children.”

  Rob had a feeling that was a lie. Yetta knew things. “The more the merrier, but since the pool is rather small, maybe we should break into groups by age and experience.”

  This proved to be no easy task, so he enlisted the help of Kate’s cousin, Gregor. The man had lost weight since Rob last saw him. He seemed to have grown up, too. Visiting your wife in a mental institute might do that to a person.

  “Do you know any of these people?” Rob asked.

  “Yeah, a
lmost everybody. Most are shirttail relatives. That tall guy over there is my brother Enzo. He and his wife have three older kids, then out of the blue, Bubba, showed up.”

  “Bubba?” Rob repeated, squinting at the lad in his dad’s burly arms. The kid looked like a black-haired Pillsbury Doughboy.

  “His real name is Burdick Anders Parlier. Bubba, for short.”

  “Gotcha.”

  One by one, Greg identified the six fathers and seven children. Greg’s distant cousin Nathan, a mousy-looking fellow with a pronounced overbite, brought twins Gretel and Lucinda.

  Maya, Rob noticed, was MIA.

  “Gentlemen, front and center,” he hollered over a cacophony of high-pitched squeals. “Here’s the game plan.”

  Rob had rehearsed his speech in front of the mirror that morning. He’d even gone online last night to make sure the technique for teaching children hadn’t changed dramatically since his Red Cross training. One Web site he’d run across had intrigued him so much he’d ordered four copies of its book, Stewie the Duck Learns to Swim.

  I’m going to need more copies.

  He felt capable of teaching these dads and their kids, but the minute Kate and Maya walked out of the house to join the group, Rob’s confidence evaporated. The look Maya gave him made him want to flee to the nearest bar for a shot of liquid courage.

  She’s a kid. Suck it up, man.

  The silent pep talk worked—or maybe it was the air of desperation he sensed in the fathers. They’d either volunteered for this task or—like him—could find no graceful out. They had kids who didn’t want to be here and they looked about ready to dunk said kids in the water.

  He yanked off his Old Navy T-shirt and marched to where Maya was standing, her fingers white-knuckled from her grip on her mother’s hand. He passed his sunglasses to Kate, even though the glare was almost enough to blind a person.

  He dropped to one knee. “Maya, you’re going to turn five on your next birthday. That’s old enough to understand that being able to swim is very, very important. If you accidentally fell in the water and no adults were around to help you, you might drown.”