Caitlin's Choice by Kat Attalla

rise in temperature. Joyce and Leslie were due home any minute. Not the perfect time to be starting something he definitely wanted to finish.
    He cupped her face in his hands. He continued to kiss her, but with less intensity. She pulled back to catch a quick breath. Before she could continue, he lowered her against the arm of the sofa and sat back.
    She laughed. “Who’s afraid of whom, Andrew?”
    “Don’t laugh at me.”
    “Why not? You’re funny. You never want what you get.”
    He gazed down at her amused expression. “I never get what I want, either.”
    “And what did you want?”
    “I wanted Tyler to be tucked in for the night and my mother and sister away for the weekend before I got such an encouraging response from you.”
    “That’s the problem with you spoiled rich guys. You want everything and you don’t want to wait.”
    “I didn’t notice you fighting me off.”
    “I was just playing the game.”
    “Liar.” He slipped his hand under her T-shirt and cupped her full breast. His thumb grazed her taut nipple. Her eyes widened and she let out a startled gasp. “Just playing the game?”
    “I’m very sensitive there since Tyler was born.” She pushed his hand back.
    He arched his eyebrow. “Even before that, I seem to remember.”
    She ignored his taunt. “May I get up now? I want to put Ty to bed.”
    “Running away?”
    “I prefer to call it a tactical retreat to regroup.”
    He laughed at her honesty. And her warning. The next time, and there would be a next time, he would be starting over, not picking up where they left off. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was afraid of herself.
     
    * * * *
     
    Caitlin came down to breakfast in a gray tailored business suit and white silk blouse. Her hair was pulled into a French braid, secured in the back with a large black bow. Tyler, resting on her hip, tried his best to remove the buttons from her jacket. The aroma of fresh coffee lured her into the dining room.
    She wasn’t sure who was more surprised by her professional appearance, Andrew or his very hung- over sister. Leslie was nasty enough when sober. Caitlin cringed at the vicious scowl she received when she sat at the table.
    “Let me guess. Daddy is taking the little prince into the office to show him off to the peasants,” Leslie spat out sarcastically.
    “Good morning to you, too,” Caitlin said cheerfully. She settled Tyler on her knee and gave him a rattle to keep him occupied. “And to answer your question , I’m taking him to work with me.”
    Leslie’s jaw sagged. “You work?”
    Andrew let out a grunt of disgust. “It’s not such a novel concept. Not everyone considers polishing off a bottle of scotch a hard day’s work.”
    “Gin, honey. If you’re going to be obnoxious, at least get the facts right.”
    He scowled. “Don’t brag about it.”
    Leslie tossed her hands up in the air. “Hey, we all have to excel at something.”
    Caitlin couldn’t help but feel sorry for Leslie. Her life was so shallow and miserable that she tried to bring everyone down to her level.
    “You know, Leslie, I’ll bet you could excel at other things if you put your mind to it,” she said.
    “Oh, sure. Like being a mommy, perhaps?”
    Caitlin shook her head. “I was thinking more like modeling. You’ve got the right temperament and the looks.”
    “What would you know about it?”
    “I worked in modeling for six years. If you ever decide you want to do something with your life, I could introduce you to some people.”
    “You’re going to help me?” Leslie mocked. “No, thanks.”
    “Your choice,” Caitlin said simply.
    Despite her words to the contrary, Leslie seemed to be giving the matter serious thought. Her eyes sparkled with interest even though her features remained schooled. She started to say something when Andrew’s angry words cut her off.
    “At the rate she’s drinking, she’ll look too old to model before she learns how.”
    Caitlin groaned inwardly. If Leslie