Must Like Kids by Jackie Braun

her with the kind of skill and passion she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
    * * *
    Lunch with a loved one. Alec tapped his pen on the desk blotter. He wanted to be irritated with Julia for putting off business for something so, well, trivial. But he couldn’t be. The very fact that he was playing second fiddle to her kids made him like her all the more.
    His parents had rarely visited him at school. In fact, he’d spent the majority of his birthdays alone since they fell while school was in session. Sometimes his grandfather, health permitting, had come to take Alec out for dinner. But it wasn’t the same as having his parents, in particular his mother, who’d given birth to him, acknowledge the occasion. He got cards from them, often a week or so late, mailed from some exotic location. And money, hefty checks written from the bank accounts his folks had been so busy depleting. He would have traded every penny for their time.
    Even now, his parents’ calls and visits were rare and rarely social. Brooke and Peter contacted him when they needed money. Other interaction was limited. And strained.
    Lunch with a loved one. He couldn’t fathom his parents interrupting their overbooked social lives to accommodate such an occasion. Julia was interrupting her jam-packed workday.
    He’d meant it when he told her she was lucky to have supportive parents. Her kids were lucky, too. Even as a single mother, she was there for them, contorting herself into the shape of a pretzel if need be to ensure they understood their importance. She’d had her parents as an example. Alec didn’t want to think about the example his parents had set for him. They’d failed him. He would be damned before he would fail a child the same way.
    He shoved the thought away and got back to work. Between paperwork and phone calls, however, he kept glancing at his watch, eager for eleven to roll around, even if he wasn’t looking forward to being schooled on what to wear, what to say and how to act during his upcoming television interview.
    Body language. It was interesting that Julia had brought that up. He’d picked up a few signals from her that she probably wasn’t aware she’d sent. He knew interest when he saw it. And then there was the not so small matter of their kiss. Sitting at his desk, he thought about it now, focusing not on his actions, but rather her response, in particular that little sigh that had escaped just before things ended. Oh, she’d wanted more.
    Besides the obvious, what did he want? It was a question he couldn’t answer. One that, frankly, he’d never asked himself where a woman was concerned. It made him uncomfortable now, edgy.
    When the appointment time came and went and there was no sign of Julia, edgy became irritable. So much for her punctuality-is-rule-number-one diatribe. The niggling concern developing over what might be the cause of her tardiness only ticked him off more. What if something had happened to her? What if something had happened to her kids? He was dialing her cell number for the fifth time when his secretary buzzed.
    “Mrs. Stillwell is here. Shall I show her in?”
    Alec was tempted to keep her waiting, if only to reel in his emotions, but given how tight both of their schedules were, he didn’t have the luxury. “Yes, Linda.”
    Julia was dressed in cocoa-colored trousers and a fitted cream blazer. The outfit would have been staid if not for the pop of color and animation a ruffled coral silk blouse provided. As pulled-together as her outfit was, she was anything but. Her hair was windblown, she was out of breath and a slight sheen of perspiration dotted her forehead. That concern was back in spades when she all but collapsed into one of the chairs opposite his desk.
    “You’re late.” If she had not looked so uncharacteristically flustered, the words would have been an accusation. Instead, some of that concern leaked into his tone.
    “I know. I’m so sorry, Alec. Both that I’m