had thought to accept the offer, his mocking comment had stopped her dead.
Leslie stood up and raised her chin defiantly. “Speaking of old, Andrew, thirty-six is a little old to be knocking up your girlfriend, don’t you think?” Head held high, she waltzed from the room.
The veins in Andrew’s neck bulged. His face turned red, and he looked as if he might breathe fire. “Leslie!”
As he rose to his feet, Caitlin clamped her fingers around his arm. “Leave her alone. You asked for that one.”
“What do you mean, I asked for that?”
“Couldn’t you see that she was thinking seriously about accepting? She’s never done anything with her life. While she was building up the courage to ask, you shot her right down.”
“That didn’t give her the right to insult you.”
Caitlin shrugged as if it were no big deal. “She didn’t insult me. She insulted you. Let it drop, and maybe in a few days she’ll swallow her pride and ask again.”
He straightened and glanced toward Tyler, gurgling and smiling. There was nothing like a baby to put things in perspective. “You really think she’d be good at something like that?”
“Sure. She’s willful, egotistical, and she doesn’t take garbage from anyone—all the qualities she needs to claw her way to the top. It worked for you, didn’t it?”
“That’s a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one.”
Caitlin grinned proudly. “We all have to excel at something. Are you finished eating?”
“Yes.”
“Would you mind holding Tyler while I have my breakfast?”
“For you? Anything,” he whispered seductively. He took Tyler into his arms.
Her eyes widened hopefully. “Anything? Can I move back to my apartment?”
“Anything but that.”
“I thought not. Eventually I’ll wear you down.”
“No, you won’t, because you still haven’t figured out what it is I want from you.”
No, she hadn’t figured that out yet. She thought he wanted Tyler and only took her because they came as a set, but his relationship with her was separate and apart from his relationship with his son. What did he want from her? Did she want to know? Was she ready to know?
* * * *
Caitlin hung her briefcase and the diaper bag on the back of the stroller and maneuvered in the front door. She had refused help from Andrew, insisting she could manage on her own. In the past year, she had not painted a flattering portrait of him to her boss and she didn’t want him meeting Andrew until she had a chance to explain why she was now living in his house.
Despite the closeness she felt toward Marc, she had never told him about her past. She couldn’t explain that she was being threatened without admitting to the source of her fear.
She entered the office to an onslaught of oohs and ahs. In less than ten seconds, she was relieved of the task of entertaining her son as her coworkers passed Tyler around. With a few minutes’ reprieve, she stepped into Marc’s office.
“It’s about time you showed your face.” Marc drew his bushy brows together in a disapproving scowl.
She laughed, and he was unable to contain his own chuckle.
“What happened? Didn’t you like the apartment?”
She sat down in the wooden chair across from his desk and sighed. “It was perfect.”
“Then why did you leave?”
Caitlin straightened her skirt and launched into her overly rehearsed speech. “Tyler’s father decided it would be best for all concerned if we stayed in his house for a while.”
“Tyler’s father?” Marc’s voice was mildly amused.
“Yes, well . . . when I returned from Singapore, Andrew came to see me. He wanted to pursue a relationship with his son, so I decided it would be in Tyler’s best interests to go along.” She smiled weakly. She wasn’t pulling this off.
“So, naturally, being open-minded, liberated parents, you decided to live together in the same house while each maintaining your own lives?”
“Naturally,” Caitlin agreed.
“Correct me if
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