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Rainy Day Kisses
Debbie Macomber
Susannah Simmons has a five-year plan to succeed in her career. And it doesn’t include falling in love with her next-door neighbour!Nate Townsend is undeniably attractive, but he seems to lack ambition. He stays home baking cookies and flying kites while Susannah struggles up the corporate ladder.She resents the way he questions her values – and makes her question them too. Is he right? Has she given up too much in pursuit of her career goals? Has she given up family, fun… and Nate’s love?Also includes the short story The First Man You Meet also by Debbie Macomber.


#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber brings you a humorous and uplifting story, in which one woman’s plans take an unexpected detour!
Susannah Simmons has a five-year plan to succeed in her career. And it doesn’t include falling in love with her next-door neighbor!
Nate Townsend is undeniably attractive, but he seems to lack ambition. He stays home baking cookies and flying kites while Susannah struggles up the corporate ladder.
She resents the way he questions her values—and makes her question them, too. Is he right? Has she given up too much in pursuit of her career goals? Has she given up family, fun…and Nate’s love?
Originally published in 1990.
Make time for friends.
Make time for Debbie Macomber.
DEBBIE
MACOMBER
CEDAR COVE
16 Lighthouse Road
204 Rosewood Avenue
311 Pelican Court
44 Cranberry Point
50 Harbor Street
6 Rainier Drive
74 Seaside Avenue
8 Sandpiper Way
92 Pacific Boulevard
1022 Evergreen Place
1105 Yakima Street
A Merry Little Christmas (featuring 1225 Christmas Tree Lane and 5-B Poppy Lane)
BLOSSOM STREET
The Shop on Blossom Street
A Good Yarn
Susannah’s Garden (previously published as Old Boyfriends)
Back on Blossom Street (previously published as Wednesdays at Four)
Twenty Wishes
Summer on Blossom Street
Hannah’s List
A Turn in the Road
Thursdays at Eight
Christmas in Seattle
Falling for Christmas
A Mother’s Gift
Angels at Christmas
A Mother’s Wish
Be My Valentine
Happy Mother’s Day
On a Snowy Night
Summer in Orchard Valley
Summer Wedding Bells
This Matter of Marriage
Summer Brides
Home for Christmas
The Perfect Match
The Summer Wedding
Not Just for Christmas
No Place Like Home
Summertime Dreams
There’s Something About Christmas
THE MANNINGS
The Manning Sisters
The Manning Brides
The Manning Grooms
THE DAKOTAS
Dakota Born
Dakota Home
Always Dakota
The Farmer Takes a Wife (Exclusive short story)
Rainy Day Kisses
Debbie Macomber


The First Man You Meet
CONTENTS
Cover (#u3542e934-3e9c-59d0-a44c-c5bc33d57ff0)
Back Cover Text (#u1bed5525-f0a2-531b-9786-1513235c56b5)
Booklist (#u0cf64b97-6ace-5e99-81f8-5fa555562368)
Title Page (#uecc634dc-56f7-5a26-a961-7f13b1835bdb)
PROLOGUE (#u811f7ed7-c40d-5132-b73b-1f47fd864ced)
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
EPILOGUE
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

PROLOGUE (#u88a839e0-ba23-5e05-b2fa-5b6f8be675e5)
“Is it true, Michelle?” Jolyn Johnson rolled her chair from her cubicle across the aisle and nearly caught the wheel on a drooping length of plastic holly. The Marketing Department had won the Christmas decoration contest for the third year in a row.
Michelle Davidson glanced away from her computer screen and immediately noticed her neighbor’s inquisitive expression. It certainly hadn’t taken long for the rumors to start. She realized, of course, that it was unusual for a high school senior to be accepted as an intern at a major company like Windy Day Toys, one of the most prestigious toy manufacturers in the country. She’d be working here during the Christmas and summer breaks—and she’d actually be getting paid! Michelle had connections—good connections. She’d been a bit naive, perhaps, to assume she could keep her relationship to Uncle Nate under wraps. Still, she’d hoped that with the Christmas season in full swing, her fellow workers would be too preoccupied with the holidays to pay any attention to her. Apparently that wasn’t the case.
“Whatever you heard is probably true,” she answered, doing her best to look busy.
“Then you are related to Mr. Townsend?” Jolyn’s eyes grew large.
“I’m his niece.”
“Really?” the other girl said in awe. “Wow.”
“I’m the one who introduced my aunt Susannah to my uncle Nate.” If the fact that Michelle was related to the company owner and CEO impressed Jolyn, then this piece of information should send her over the moon.
“You’ve got to be kidding! When was that? I thought the Townsends have been married for years and years. I heard they have three children!”
“Tessa, Junior and Emma Jane.” When she left the office this afternoon, Michelle would be heading over to her aunt and uncle’s home on Lake Washington to babysit. She didn’t think it would be good form to mention that, however. She figured interns for Windy Day Toys didn’t usually babysit on the side.
“You were responsible for introducing your aunt and uncle?” Jolyn repeated, sounding even more incredulous. “When?” she asked again.
“I was young at the time,” Michelle answered evasively.
“You must have been.”
Michelle grinned and gave in to Jolyn’s obvious curiosity. Might as well tell the truth, which was bound to emerge anyway. “I think that might be why Uncle Nate agreed to let me intern here.” He loved to tease her about her—admittedly inadvertent—role as matchmaker, but Michelle knew he was grateful. So was her aunt Susannah.
Michelle planned to major in marketing when she enrolled in college next September, and doing an internship this winter and during the summer holidays was the perfect opportunity to find out whether she liked the job. It was only her second day, but already Michelle could see that she was going to love it.
A couple of the other workers had apparently been listening in on the conversation and rolled their chairs toward her cubicle, as well. “You can’t stop the story there,” Karen said.
Originally Michelle had hoped to avoid this kind of attention, but she accepted that it was inevitable. “When my aunt was almost thirty, she was absolutely sure she’d never marry or have a family.”
“Susannah Townsend?”
This news astonished the small gathering, as Michelle had guessed it would. Besides working with Nate, her mother and aunt had started their own company, Motherhood, Inc., about ten years ago and they’d done incredibly well. It seemed that everything the Townsend name touched turned to gold.
“I know it sounds crazy, considering everything that’s happened since.”
“Exactly,” Jolyn murmured.
“Aunt Susannah’s a great mother. But,” Michelle added, “at one time, she couldn’t even figure out how to change a diaper.” Little did the others know that the diaper Susannah had such difficulty changing had been Michelle’s.
“This is a joke, right?”
“I swear it’s true. Hardly anyone knows the whole story.”
“What really happened?” the third woman, whom Michelle didn’t know, asked.
Michelle shrugged. “Actually, I happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mother was desperate for a babysitter and asked her sister, my aunt Susannah, to look after me.”
“How old were you?”
“About nine months,” she admitted.
“So how did everything turn out the way it did?” Jolyn asked.
“I’d love to hear, too,” Karen said, and the third woman nodded vigorously.
Michelle leaned back in her chair. “Make yourselves comfortable, my friends, because I have a story to tell,” she began dramatically. “A story in which I play a crucial part.”
The three women scooted their chairs closer.
“It all started seventeen years ago…”

CHAPTER 1 (#u88a839e0-ba23-5e05-b2fa-5b6f8be675e5)
Susannah Simmons blamed her sister, Emily, for this. As far as she was concerned, her weekend was going to be the nightmare on Western Avenue. Emily, a nineties version of the “earth mother,” had asked Susannah, the dedicated career woman, to babysit nine-month-old Michelle.
“Emily, I don’t think so.” Susannah had balked when her sister first phoned. What did she, a twenty-eight-year-old business executive, know about babies? The answer was simple—not much.
“I’m desperate.”
Her sister must have been to ask her. Everyone knew what Susannah was like around babies—not only Michelle, but infants in general. She just wasn’t the motherly type. Interest rates, negotiations, troubleshooting, staff motivation, these were her strong points. Not formula, teething and diapers.
It was nothing short of astonishing that the same two parents could have produced such completely different daughters. Emily baked her own oat-bran muffins, subscribed to Organic Gardening and hung her wash to dry on a clothesline—even in winter.
Susannah, on the other hand, wasn’t the least bit domestic and had no intention of ever cultivating the trait. She was too busy with her career to let such tedious tasks disrupt her corporate lifestyle. She was currently a director in charge of marketing for H&J Lima, the nation’s largest sporting goods company. The position occupied almost every minute of her time.
Susannah Simmons was a woman on the rise. Her name appeared regularly in trade journals as an up-and-coming achiever. None of that mattered to Emily, however, who needed a babysitter.
“You know I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t an emergency,” Emily had pleaded.
Susannah felt herself weakening. Emily was, after all, her younger sister. “Surely, there’s got to be someone better qualified.”
Emily had hesitated, then tearfully blurted, “I don’t know what I’ll do if you won’t take Michelle.” She began to sob pitifully. “Robert’s left me.”
“What?” If Emily hadn’t gained her full attention earlier, she did now. If her sister was an earth mother, then her brother-in-law, Robert Davidson, was Abraham Lincoln, as solid and upright as a thirty-foot oak. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true,” Emily wailed. “He…he claims I give Michelle all my attention and that I never have enough energy left to be a decent wife.” She paused to draw in a quavery breath. “I know he’s right…but being a good mother demands so much time and effort.”
“I thought Robert wanted six children.”
“He does…or did.” Emily’s sobbing began anew.
“Oh, Emily, it can’t be that bad,” Susannah had murmured in a soothing voice, thinking as fast as she could. “I’m sure you misunderstood Robert. He loves you and Michelle, and I’m positive he has no intention of leaving you.”
“He does,” Emily went on to explain between hiccuping sobs. “He asked me to find someone to look after Michelle for a while. He says we have to have some time to ourselves, or our marriage is dead.”
That sounded pretty drastic to Susannah.
“I swear to you, Susannah, I’ve called everyone who’s ever babysat Michelle before, but no one’s available. No one—not even for one night. When I told Robert I hadn’t found a sitter, he got so angry…and that’s not like Robert.”
Susannah agreed. The man was the salt of the earth. Not once in the five years she’d known him could she recall him even raising his voice.
“He told me that if I didn’t take this weekend trip to San Francisco with him he was going alone. I tried to find someone to watch Michelle,” Emily said. “I honestly tried, but there’s no one else, and now Robert’s home and he’s loading up the car and, Susannah, he’s serious. He’s going to leave without me and from the amount of luggage he’s taking, I don’t think he plans to come back.”
The tale of woe barely skimmed the surface of Susannah’s mind. The key word that planted itself in fertile ground was weekend. “I thought you said you only needed me for one night?” she asked.
At that point, Susannah should’ve realized she wasn’t much brighter than a brainless mouse, innocently nibbling away at the cheese in a steel trap.
Emily sniffled once more, probably for effect, Susannah mused darkly.
“We’ll be flying back to Seattle early Sunday afternoon. Robert’s got some business in San Francisco Saturday morning, but the rest of the weekend is free…and it’s been such a long time since we’ve been alone.”
“Two days and two nights,” Susannah said slowly, mentally tabulating the hours.
“Oh, please, Susannah, my whole marriage is at stake. You’ve always been such a good big sister. I know I don’t deserve anyone as good as you.”
Silently Susannah agreed.
“Somehow I’ll find a way to repay you,” Emily continued.
Susannah closed her eyes. Her sister’s idea of repaying her was usually freshly baked zucchini bread shortly after Susannah announced she was watching her weight.
“Susannah, please!”
It was then that Susannah had caved in to the pressure. “All right. Go ahead and bring Michelle over.”
Somewhere in the distance, she could’ve sworn she heard the echo of a mousetrap slamming shut.
By the time Emily and Robert had deposited their offspring at Susannah’s condominium, her head was swimming with instructions. After planting a kiss on her daughter’s rosy cheek, Emily handed the clinging Michelle to a reluctant Susannah.
That was when the nightmare began in earnest.
As soon as her sister left, Susannah could feel herself tense up. Even as a teenager, she hadn’t done a lot of babysitting; it wasn’t that she didn’t like children, but kids didn’t seem to take to her.
Holding the squalling infant on her hip, Susannah paced while her mind buzzed with everything she was supposed to remember. She knew what to do in case of diaper rash, colic and several other minor emergencies, but Emily hadn’t said one word about how to keep Michelle from crying.
“Shhh,” Susannah cooed, jiggling her niece against her hip. She swore the child had a cry that could’ve been heard a block away.
After the first five minutes, her calm cool composure began to crack under the pressure. She could be in real trouble here. The tenant agreement she’d signed specifically stated “no children.”
“Hello, Michelle, remember me?” Susannah asked, doing everything she could think of to quiet the baby. Didn’t the kid need to breathe? “I’m your auntie Susannah, the business executive.”
Her niece wasn’t impressed. Pausing only a few seconds to gulp for air, Michelle increased her volume and glared at the door as if she expected her mother to miraculously appear if she cried long and hard enough.
“Trust me, kid, if I knew a magic trick that’d bring your mother back, I’d use it now.”
Ten minutes. Emily had been gone a total of ten minutes. Susannah was seriously considering giving the state Children’s Protective Services a call and claiming that a stranger had abandoned a baby on her doorstep.
“Mommy will be home soon,” Susannah murmured wistfully.
Michelle screamed louder. Susannah started to worry about her stemware. The kid’s voice could shatter glass.
More tortured minutes passed, each one an eternity. Susannah was desperate enough to sing. Not knowing any appropriate lullabies, she began with a couple of ditties from her childhood, but quickly exhausted those. Michelle didn’t seem to appreciate them anyway. Since Susannah didn’t keep up with the current top twenty, the best she could do was an old Christmas favorite. Somehow singing “Jingle Bells” in the middle of September didn’t feel right.
“Michelle,” Susannah pleaded, willing to stand on her head if it would keep the baby from wailing, “your mommy will be back, I assure you.”
Michelle apparently didn’t believe her.
“How about if I buy municipal bonds and put them in your name?” Susannah tried next. “Tax-free bonds, Michelle! This is an offer you shouldn’t refuse. All you need to do is stop crying. Oh, please stop crying.”
Michelle wasn’t interested.
“All right,” Susannah cried, growing desperate. “I’ll sign over my Microsoft stock. That’s my final offer, so you’d better grab it while I’m in a generous mood.”
Michelle answered by gripping Susannah’s collar with both of her chubby fists and burying her wet face in a once spotless white silk blouse.
“You’re a tough nut to crack, Michelle Margaret Davidson,” Susannah muttered, gently patting her niece’s back as she paced. “You want blood, don’t you, kid? You aren’t going to be satisfied with anything less.”
A half hour after Emily had left, Susannah was ready to resort to tears herself. She’d started singing again, returning to her repertoire of Christmas songs. “You’d better watch out,/ you’d better not cry,/ Aunt Susannah’s here telling you why….”
She was just getting into the lyrics when someone knocked heavily on her door.
Like a thief caught in the act, Susannah whirled around, fully expecting the caller to be the building superintendent. No doubt there’d been complaints and he’d come to confront her.
Expelling a weary sigh, Susannah realized she was defenseless. The only option she had was to throw herself on his mercy. She squared her shoulders and walked across the lush carpet, prepared to do exactly that.
Only it wasn’t necessary. The building superintendent wasn’t the person standing on the other side of her door. It was her new neighbor, wearing a baseball cap and a faded T-shirt, and looking more than a little disgruntled.
“The crying and the baby I can take,” he said, crossing his arms and relaxing against the doorframe, “but your singing has got to go.”
“Very funny,” she grumbled.
“The kid’s obviously distressed.”
Susannah glared at him. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”
“Do something.”
“I’m trying.” Apparently Michelle didn’t like this stranger any more than Susannah did because she buried her face in Susannah’s collar and rubbed it vigorously back and forth. That at least helped muffle her cries, but there was no telling what it would do to white silk. “I offered her my Microsoft stock and it didn’t do any good,” Susannah explained. “I was even willing to throw in my municipal bonds.”
“You offered her stocks and bonds, but did you suggest dinner?”
“Dinner?” Susannah echoed. She hadn’t thought of that. Emily claimed she’d fed Michelle, but Susannah vaguely remembered something about a bottle.
“The poor thing’s probably starving.”
“I think she’s supposed to have a bottle,” Susannah said. She turned and glanced at the assorted bags Emily and Robert had deposited in her condominium, along with the necessary baby furniture. From the number of things stacked on the floor, it must seem as if she’d been granted permanent guardianship. “There’s got to be one in all this paraphernalia.”
“I’ll find it—you keep the kid quiet.”
Susannah nearly laughed out loud. If she was able to keep Michelle quiet, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. She imagined she could convince CIA agents to hand over top-secret documents more easily than she could silence one distressed nine-month-old infant.
Without waiting for an invitation, her neighbor moved into the living room. He picked up one of the three overnight bags and rooted through that. He hesitated when he pulled out a stack of freshly laundered diapers, and glanced at Susannah. “I didn’t know anyone used cloth diapers anymore.”
“My sister doesn’t believe in anything disposable.”
“Smart woman.”
Susannah made no comment, and within a few seconds noted that he’d come across a plastic bottle. He removed the protective cap and handed the bottle to Susannah, who looked at it and blinked. “Shouldn’t the milk be heated?”
“It’s room temperature, and frankly, at this point I don’t think the kid’s going to care.”
He was right. The instant Susannah placed the rubber nipple in her niece’s mouth, Michelle grasped the bottle with both hands and sucked at it greedily.
For the first time since her mother had left, Michelle stopped crying. The silence was pure bliss. Susannah’s tension eased, and she released a sigh that went all the way through her body.
“You might want to sit down,” he suggested next.
Susannah did, and with Michelle cradled awkwardly in her arms, leaned against the back of the sofa, trying not to jostle her charge.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” Her neighbor pushed the baseball cap farther back on his head, looking pleased with himself.
“Much better.” Susannah smiled shyly up at him. They hadn’t actually met, but she’d certainly noticed her new neighbor. As far as looks went, he was downright handsome. She supposed most women would find his mischievous blue eyes and dark good looks appealing. He was tanned, but she’d have wagered a month’s pay that his bronzed features weren’t the result of any machine. He obviously spent a great deal of time outdoors, which led her to the conclusion that he didn’t work. At least not in an office. And frankly, she doubted he was employed outside of one, either. The clothes he wore and the sporadic hours he kept had led her to speculate about him earlier. If he had money, which apparently he did or else he wouldn’t be living in this complex, then he’d inherited it.
“I think it’s time I introduced myself,” he said conversationally, sitting on the ottoman across from her. “I’m Nate Townsend.”
“Susannah Simmons,” she said. “I apologize for all the racket. My niece and I are just getting acquainted and—oh, boy—it’s going to be a long weekend, so bear with us.”
“You’re babysitting for the weekend?”
“Two days and two nights.” It sounded like a whole lifetime to Susannah. “My sister and her husband are off on a second honeymoon. Normally my parents would watch Michelle and love doing it, but they’re visiting friends in Florida.”
“It was kind of you to offer.”
Susannah thought it best to correct this impression. “Trust me, I didn’t volunteer. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not very maternal.”
“You’ve got to support her back a little more,” he said, watching Michelle.
Susannah tried, but it felt awkward to hold on to her niece and the bottle.
“You’re doing fine.”
“Sure,” Susannah muttered. She felt like someone with two left feet who’d been unexpectedly ushered onto center stage and told to perform the lead in Swan Lake.
“Relax, will you?” Nate encouraged.
“I told you already I’m not into this motherhood business,” she snapped. “If you think you can do better, you feed her.”
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
She wasn’t doing great at all, and she knew it, but this was as good as she got.
“When’s the last time you had anything to eat?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You sound hungry to me.”
“Well, I’m not,” Susannah said irritably.
“I think you are, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.” He walked boldly into her kitchen and paused in front of the refrigerator. “Your mood will improve once you have something in your stomach.”
Shifting Michelle higher, Susannah stood and followed him. “You can’t just walk in here and—”
“I’ll say I can’t,” he murmured, his head inside her fridge. “Do you realize there’s nothing in here except an open box of baking soda and a jar full of pickle juice?”
“I eat out a lot,” Susannah said defensively.
“I can see that.”
Michelle had finished the bottle and made a slurping sound that prompted Susannah to remove the nipple from her mouth. The baby’s eyes were closed. Little wonder, Susannah thought. She was probably exhausted. Certainly Susannah was, and it was barely seven on Friday evening. The weekend was just beginning.
Setting the empty bottle on the kitchen counter, Susannah awkwardly lifted Michelle onto her shoulder and patted her back until she produced a tiny burp. Feeling a real sense of accomplishment, Susannah smiled proudly.
Nate chuckled and when Susannah glanced in his direction, she discovered him watching her, his grin warm and appraising. “You’re going to be fine.”
Flustered, Susannah lowered her gaze. She always disliked it when a man looked at her that way, examining her features and forming a judgment about her by the size of her nose, or the direction in which her eyebrows grew. Most men seemed to believe they’d been granted a rare gift of insight and could determine a woman’s entire character just by looking at her face. Unfortunately, Susannah’s was too austere by conventional standards to be classified as beautiful. Her eyes were deep-set and dark, her cheekbones high. Her nose came almost straight from her forehead and together with her full mouth made her look like a classic Greek sculpture. Not pretty, she thought. Interesting perhaps.
It was during Susannah’s beleaguered self-evaluation that Michelle stirred and started jabbering cheerfully, reaching one hand toward a strand of Susannah’s dark hair.
Without her realizing it, her chignon had come undone. Michelle had somehow managed to loosen the pins and now the long dark tresses fell haphazardly over Susannah’s shoulder. If there was one thing Susannah was meticulous about, and actually there were several, it was her appearance. She must look a rare sight, in an expensive business suit with a stained white blouse and her hair tumbling over her shoulder.
“Actually I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to introduce myself,” Nate said, leaning against the counter. “But after the first couple of times we saw each other, our paths didn’t seem to cross again.”
“I’ve been working a lot of overtime lately.” If the truth be known, Susannah almost always put in extra hours. Often she brought work home with her. She was dedicated, committed and hardworking. Her neighbor, however, didn’t seem to possess any of those qualities. She strongly suspected that everything in life had come much too easily for Nate Townsend. She’d never seen him without his baseball cap or his T-shirt. Somehow she doubted he even owned a suit. And if he did, it probably wouldn’t look right on him. Nate Townsend was definitely a football-jersey type of guy.
He seemed likable—friendly and outgoing—but from what she’d seen, he lacked ambition. Apparently there’d never been anything he’d wanted badly enough to really strive for.
“I’m glad we had the chance to introduce ourselves,” Susannah added, walking back into the living room and toward her front door. “I appreciate the help, but as you said, Michelle and I are going to be fine.”
“It didn’t sound that way when I arrived.”
“I was just getting my feet wet,” she returned, defending herself, “and why are you arguing with me? You’re the one who said I was doing all right.”
“I lied.”
“Why would you do that?”
Nate shrugged nonchalantly. “I thought a little self-confidence would do you good, so I offered it.”
Susannah glared at him, resenting his attitude. So much for the nice-guy-who-lives-next-door image she’d had of him. “I don’t need any favors from you.”
“You may not,” he agreed, “but unfortunately Michelle does. The poor kid was starving and you didn’t so much as suspect.”
“I would’ve figured it out.”
Nate gave her a look that seemed to cast doubt on her intelligence, and Susannah frowned right back. She opened the door with far more force than necessary and flipped her hair over her shoulder with flair a Paris model would have envied. “Thanks for stopping in,” she said stiffly, “but as you can see everything’s under control.”
“If you say so.” He grinned at her and without another word was gone.
Susannah banged the door shut with her hip, feeling a rush of satisfaction as she did so. She knew this was petty, but her neighbor had annoyed her in more ways than one.
Soon afterward Susannah heard the soft strains of an Italian opera drifting from Nate’s condominium. At least she thought it was Italian, which was unfortunate because that made her think of spaghetti and how hungry she actually was.
“Okay, Michelle,” she said, smiling down on her niece. “It’s time to feed your auntie.” Without too much trouble, Susannah assembled the high chair and set her niece in that while she scanned the contents of her freezer.
The best she could come up with was a frozen Mexican entrée. She gazed at the picture on the front of the package, shook her head and tossed it back inside the freezer.
Michelle seemed to approve and vigorously slapped the tray on her high chair.
Crossing her arms and leaning against the freezer door, Susannah paused. “Did you hear what he said?” she asked, still irate. “I guess he was right, but he didn’t have to be so superior about it.”
Michelle slapped her hands in approval once again. The music was muted by the thick walls, and wanting to hear a little more, Susannah cracked open the sliding glass door to her balcony, which was separated from Nate’s by a concrete partition. It bestowed privacy, but didn’t muffle the beautiful voices raised in triumphant song.
Susannah opened the glass door completely and stepped outside. The evening was cool, but pleasantly so. The sun had just started to set and had cast a wash of golden shadows over the picturesque waterfront.
“Michelle,” she muttered when she came back in, “he’s cooking something that smells like lasagna or spaghetti.” Her stomach growled and she returned to the freezer, taking out the same Mexican entrée she’d rejected earlier. It didn’t seem any more appetizing than it had the first time.
A faint scent of garlic wafted into her kitchen. Susannah turned her classic Greek nose in that direction, then followed the aroma to the open door like a puppet drawn there by a string. She sniffed loudly and turned eagerly back to her niece. “It’s definitely Italian, and it smells divine.”
Michelle pounded the tray again.
“It’s garlic bread,” Susannah announced and whirled around to face her niece, who clearly wasn’t impressed. But then, thought Susannah, she wouldn’t be. She’d eaten.
Under normal conditions, Susannah would’ve reached for her jacket and headed to Mama Mataloni’s, a fabulous Italian restaurant within easy walking distance. Unfortunately Mama Mataloni’s didn’t deliver.
Against her better judgment, Susannah stuck the frozen entrée into her microwave and set the timer. When there was another knock on her door, she stiffened and looked at Michelle as if the nine-month-old would sit up and tell Susannah who’d come by this time.
It was Nate again, holding a plate of spaghetti and a glass of red wine. “Did you fix yourself something to eat?” he asked.
For the life of her Susannah couldn’t tear her gaze away from the oversize plate, heaped high with steaming pasta smothered in a thick red sauce. Nothing had ever looked—or smelled—more appetizing. The fresh Parmesan cheese he’d grated over the top had melted onto the rich sauce. A generous slice of garlic bread was balanced on the side.
“I, ah, was just heating up a…microwave dinner.” She pointed behind her toward the kitchen as if that would explain what she was trying to say. Her tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth.
“I shouldn’t have acted like such a know-it-all earlier,” he said, pushing the plate toward her. “I’m bringing you a peace offering.”
“This…is for me?” She raised her eyes from the plate, wondering if he knew how hungry she felt and was toying with her.
He handed her the meal and the wine. “The sauce has been simmering most of the afternoon. I like to pretend I’m a bit of a gourmet chef. Every once in a while I get creative in the kitchen.”
“How…nice.” She conjured up a picture of Nate standing in his kitchen stirring sauce while the rest of the world struggled to make a living. Her attitude wasn’t at all gracious and she mentally apologized. Without further ado, she marched into her kitchen, reached for a fork and plopped herself down at the table. She might as well eat this feast while it was hot!
One sample told her everything she needed to know. “This is great.” She took another bite, pointed her fork in his direction and rolled her eyes. “Marvelous. Wonderful.”
Nate pulled a bread stick out of his shirt pocket and gave it to Michelle. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
As Michelle chewed contentedly on the bread stick, Nate pulled out a chair and sat across from Susannah, who was too busy enjoying her dinner to notice anything out of the ordinary until Nate’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong?” Susannah asked. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and sampled the wine.
“I smell something.”
Judging by his expression, whatever it was apparently wasn’t pleasant. “It might be the microwave dinner,” she suggested hopefully, already knowing better.
“I’m afraid not.”
Susannah carefully set the fork beside her plate as uneasiness settled over her.
“It seems,” Nate said, covering his nose with one hand, “that someone needs to change Michelle’s diaper.”

CHAPTER 2 (#u88a839e0-ba23-5e05-b2fa-5b6f8be675e5)
Holding a freshly diapered Michelle on her hip, Susannah rushed out of the bathroom into the narrow hallway and gasped for breath.
“Are you all right?” Nate asked, his brow creased with a concerned frown.
She nodded and sagged against the wall, feeling light-headed. Once she’d dragged several clean breaths through her lungs, she straightened and even managed a weak smile.
“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
Susannah glared at him. “I should’ve been wearing an oxygen mask.”
Nate’s responding chuckle did little to improve her mood.
“In light of what I just experienced,” she muttered, “I can’t understand why the population continues to grow.” To be on the safe side, she opened the hall linen closet and took out a large can of disinfectant spray. Sticking her arm inside the bathroom, she gave a generous squirt.
“While you were busy I assembled the crib,” Nate told her, still revealing far too much amusement to suit Susannah. “Where would you like me to put it?”
“The living room will be fine.” His action had been thoughtful, but Susannah wasn’t accustomed to depending on others, so when she thanked him, the words were forced.
Susannah followed him into the living room and found the bed ready. She laid Michelle down on her stomach and covered her with a handknit blanket. The baby settled down immediately, without fussing.
Nate walked toward the door. “You’re sure everything’s okay?” he said softly.
“Positive.” Susannah wasn’t, but Michelle was her niece and their problems weren’t his. Nate had done more than enough already. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Anytime.” He paused at the door and turned back. “I left my phone number on the kitchen counter. Call if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
He favored her with a grin on his way out the door, and Susannah stood a few moments after he’d left the apartment, thinking about him. Her feelings were decidedly mixed.
She began sorting through the various bags her sister had brought, depositing the jars of baby food in the cupboard and putting the bottles of formula in the fridge. As Nate had pointed out, there was plenty of room—all she had to do was scoot the empty pickle jar aside.
She supposed she should toss the jar in the garbage, but one of the guys from the office had talked about making pickled eggs. It sounded so simple—all she had to do was peel a few hard-boiled eggs and keep them refrigerated in the jar for a week or so. Susannah had been meaning to try it ever since. But she was afraid that when the mood struck her, she wouldn’t have any pickle juice around, so she’d decided to keep it on hand.
Once she’d finished in the kitchen, Susannah soaked in a hot bath, leaving the door ajar in case Michelle woke and needed her. She felt far more relaxed afterward.
Walking back into the living room on the tips of her toes, she brought out her briefcase and removed a file. She glanced down at her sleeping niece and gently patted her back. The little girl looked so angelic, so content.
Suddenly a powerful yearning stirred within Susannah. She felt real affection for Michelle, but the feeling was more than that. This time alone with her niece had evoked a longing buried deep in Susannah’s heart, a longing she’d never taken the time to fully examine. And with it came an aching restless sensation that she promptly submerged.
When Susannah had chosen a career in business, she’d realized she was giving up the part of herself that hungered for husband and children. There was nothing that said she couldn’t marry, couldn’t raise a child, but she knew herself too well. From the time she was in high school it had been painfully apparent that she was completely inadequate in the domestic arena. Especially when she compared herself to Emily, who seemed to have been born with a dust rag in one hand and a cookbook in the other.
Susannah had never regretted the decision she’d made to dedicate herself to her career, but then she was more fortunate than some. She had Emily, who was determined to supply her with numerous nieces and nephews. For Susannah, Michelle and the little ones who were sure to follow would have to be enough.
Reminding herself that she was comfortable with her choices, Susannah quietly stepped away from the crib. For the next hour, she sat on her bed reading the details of the proposed marketing program the department had sent her. The full presentation was scheduled for Monday morning and she wanted to be informed and prepared.
When she finished reading the report, she tiptoed back to her desk, situated in the far corner of the living room, and replaced the file in her briefcase.
Once more she paused to check on her niece. Feeling just a little cocky, she returned to the bedroom convinced this babysitting business wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
* * *
Susannah changed her mind at one-thirty when a piercing wail startled her out of a sound sleep. Not knowing how long Michelle had been at it, Susannah nearly fell out of bed in her rush to reach her niece.
“Michelle,” she cried, stumbling blindly across the floor, her arms stretched out in front of her. “I’m coming…. There’s no need to panic.”
Michelle disagreed vehemently.
Turning on a light only made matters worse. Squinting to protect her eyes from the glare, Susannah groped her way to the crib, then let out a cry herself when she stubbed her toe on the leg of the coffee table.
Michelle was standing, holding on to the bars and looking as if she didn’t have a friend in the world.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Susannah asked softly, lifting the baby into her arms.
A wet bottom told part of the story. And the poor kid had probably woken and, finding herself in a strange place, felt scared. Susannah couldn’t blame her.
“All right, we’ll try this diapering business again.”
Susannah spread a thick towel on the bathroom counter, then gently placed Michelle on it. She was halfway through the changing process when the phone rang. Straightening, Susannah glanced around her, wondering what she should do. She couldn’t leave Michelle, and picking her up and carrying her into the kitchen would be difficult. Whoever was calling at this time of night should know better! If it was important they could leave a message on her answering machine.
But after three rings, the phone stopped, followed almost immediately by a firm knock at her door.
Hauling Michelle, newly diapered, Susannah squinted and checked the peephole to discover a disgruntled Nate on the other side.
“Nate,” she said in surprise as she opened the door. She couldn’t even guess what he wanted. And she wasn’t too keen about letting him into her apartment at this hour.
He stood just inside the condo, barefoot and dressed in a red plaid housecoat. His hair was mussed, which made Susannah wonder about her own disheveled appearance. She suspected she looked like someone who’d walked out of a swamp.
“Is Michelle all right?” he barked, despite the evidence before him. Not waiting for a reply, he continued in an accusing tone, “You didn’t answer the phone.”
“I couldn’t. I was changing her diaper.”
Nate hesitated, then studied her closely. “In that case, are you all right?”
She nodded and managed to raise one hand. It was difficult when her arms were occupied with a baby. “I lived to tell about it.”
“Good. What happened? Why was Michelle crying?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe when she woke up and didn’t recognize her surroundings, she suffered an anxiety attack.”
“And, from the look of us, caused a couple more.”
Susannah would rather he hadn’t mentioned that. Her long, tangled hair spilled over her shoulders and she, too, was barefoot. She’d been so anxious to get to Michelle that she hadn’t bothered to reach for her slippers or her robe.
Michelle, it seemed, was pleased with all the unexpected attention, and when she leaned toward Nate, arms outstretched, Susannah marveled at how fickle an infant could be. After all, she was the one who’d fed and diapered her. Not Nate.
“It’s my male charm,” he explained delightedly.
“More likely, it’s your red housecoat.”
Whatever it was, Michelle went into his arms as if he were a long-lost friend. Susannah excused herself to retrieve her robe from the foot of her bed. By the time she got back, Nate was sitting on the sofa with his feet stretched out, supported by Susannah’s mahogany coffee table.
“Make yourself at home,” she muttered. Her mood wasn’t always the best when she’d been abruptly wakened from a sound sleep.
He glanced up at her and grinned. “No need to be testy.”
“Yes, there is,” she said, but destroyed what remained of her argument by yawning loudly. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she slumped down on the chair across from him and flipped her hair away from her face.
His gaze followed the action. “You should wear your hair down more often.”
She glared at him. “I always wear my hair up.”
“I noticed. And frankly, it’s much more flattering down.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she cried, “are you going to tell me how to dress next?”
“I might.”
He said it with such a charming smile that any sting there might have been in his statement was diluted.
“You don’t have to stick with business suits every day, do you? Try jeans sometime. With a T-shirt.”
She opened her mouth to argue with him, then decided not to bother. The arrogance he displayed seemed to be characteristic of handsome men in general, she’d noted. Because a man happened to possess lean good looks and could smile beguilingly, he figured he had the right to say anything he pleased to a woman—to comment on how she styled her hair, how she chose to dress or anything else. These were things he wouldn’t dream of discussing if he were talking to another man.
“You aren’t going to argue?”
“No,” she said, and for emphasis shook her head.
That stopped him short. He paused and blinked, then sent her another of his captivating smiles. “I find that refreshing.”
“I’m gratified to hear there’s something about me you approve of.” There were probably plenty of other things that didn’t please him. Given any encouragement, he’d probably be glad to list them for her.
Sweet little traitor that she was, Michelle had curled up in Nate’s arms, utterly content just to sit there and study his handsome face, which no doubt had fascinated numerous other females before her. The least Michelle could do was show some signs of going back to sleep so Susannah could return her to the crib and usher Nate out the door.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did about your hair and clothes.”
“Hey,” she returned flippantly, “you don’t need to worry about hurting my feelings. I’m strong. I’ve got a lot of emotional fortitude.”
“Strong,” he repeated. “You make yourself sound like an all-weather tire.”
“I’ve had to be tougher than that.”
His face relaxed into a look of sympathy. “Why?”
“I work with men just like you every day.”
“Men just like me?”
“It’s true. For the past seven years, I’ve found myself up against the old double standard, but I’ve learned to keep my cool.”
He frowned as if he didn’t understand what she was talking about. Susannah felt it was her obligation to tell him. Apparently Nate had never been involved in office politics. “Let me give you a few examples. If a male coworker has a cluttered desk, then everyone assumes he’s a hard worker. If my desk is a mess, it’s a sign of disorganization.”
Nate looked as if he wanted to argue with her, but Susannah was just warming to her subject and she forged ahead before he had a chance to speak. “If a man in an office marries, it’s good for the company because he’ll settle down and become a more productive employee. If a woman marries, it’s almost the kiss of death because management figures she’ll get pregnant and quit. If a man leaves because he’s been offered a better job, everyone’s pleased for him because he’s taking advantage of an excellent career opportunity. But if the same position is offered to a woman and she takes it, then upper management shrugs and claims women aren’t dependable.”
When she’d finished there was a short pause. “You have very definite feelings on the subject,” he said at last.
“If you were a woman, you would, too.”
His nod of agreement was a long time coming. “You’re right, I probably would.”
Michelle seemed to find the toes of her sleeper fascinating and was examining them closely. Personally, Susannah didn’t know how anyone could be so wide-awake at this ungodly hour.
“If you turn down the lights, she might get the hint,” Nate said, doing a poor job of smothering a yawn.
“You’re beat,” said Susannah. “There’s no need for you to stay. I’ll take her.” She held out her arms to Michelle, who whimpered and clung all the more tightly to Nate. Susannah’s feelings of inadequacy were reinforced.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortable like this,” Nate told her.
“But…” She could feel the warmth invading her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, regretting her outburst of a few minutes ago. She’d been standing on her soapbox again. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said. What goes on at the office has nothing to do with our being neighbors.”
“Then we’re even.”
“Even?”
“I shouldn’t have commented on your hair and clothes.” He hesitated long enough to envelop her in his smile. “Friends?”
Despite the intolerable hour, Susannah found herself smiling back. “Friends.”
Michelle seemed to concur because she cooed loudly, kicking her feet.
Susannah stood and turned the lamp down to its lowest setting, then reached for Michelle’s blanket, covering the baby. Feeling slightly chilled herself, she fetched the brightly colored afghan at the foot of the sofa, which Emily had crocheted for her last Christmas.
The muted light created an intimate atmosphere, and suddenly self-conscious, Susannah suggested, “Maybe I’ll sing to her. That should help her go to sleep.”
“If anyone sings, it’ll be me,” he said much too quickly.
Susannah’s pride was a little dented, but remembering her limited repertoire of songs, she gestured toward him and said, “All right, Frank Sinatra, have a go.”
To Susannah’s surprise, Nate’s singing voice was soothing and melodious. Even more surprisingly, he knew exactly the right kind of songs. Not lullabies, but easy-listening songs, the kind she’d heard for years on the radio. She felt her own eyes drifting closed and battled to stay awake. His voice dropped to a mere whisper that felt like a warm caress. Much too warm. And cozy, as if the three of them belonged together, which was ridiculous since she’d only just met Nate. He was her neighbor and nothing more. There hadn’t been time for them to get to know each other, and Michelle was her niece, not her daughter.
But the domestic fantasy continued, no matter how hard she tried to dispel it. She couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to share her life with a husband and children—and she could barely manage to keep her eyes open for more than a second or two. Perhaps if she rested them for a moment…
* * *
The next thing Susannah knew, her neck ached. She reached up to secure her pillow, then realized she didn’t have one. Instead of being in bed, she was curled up in the chair, her head resting uncomfortably against the arm. Slowly, reluctantly, she opened her eyes and discovered Nate across from her, head tilted back, sleeping soundly. Michelle was resting peacefully in his arms.
It took Susannah a minute or so to orient herself. When she saw the sun breaking across the sky and spilling through her large windows, she closed her eyes again. It was morning. Morning! Nate had spent the night at her place.
Flustered, Susannah twisted her body into an upright position and rubbed the sleep from her face, wondering what she should do. Waking Nate was probably not the best idea. He was bound to be as unnerved as she was to discover he’d fallen asleep in her living room. To complicate matters, the afghan she’d covered herself with had somehow become twisted around her hips and legs. Muttering under her breath, Susannah yanked it about in an effort to stand.
Her activity disturbed Nate’s restful slumber. He stirred, glanced in her direction and froze for what seemed the longest moment of Susannah’s life. Then he blinked several times and glared at her as though he hoped she’d vanish into thin air.
Standing now, Susannah did her best to appear dignified, which was nearly impossible with the comforter still twisted around her.
“Where am I?” Nate asked dazedly.
“Ah…my place.”
His eyes drifted shut. “I was afraid of that.” The mournful look that came over Nate’s face would have been comical under other circumstances. Only neither of them was laughing.
“I, ah, must’ve fallen asleep,” she said, breaking the embarrassed silence. She took pains to fold the afghan, and held it against her stomach like a shield.
“Me, too, apparently,” Nate muttered.
Michelle woke and struggled into a sitting position. She looked around her and evidently didn’t like what she saw, either. Her lower lip started to tremble.
“Michelle, it’s okay,” Susannah said quickly, hoping to ward off the scream she feared was coming. “You’re staying with Auntie Susannah this weekend, remember?”
“I think she might be wet,” Nate offered when Michelle began to whimper softly. He let out a muffled curse and hastily lifted the nine-month-old from his lap. “I’m positive she’s wet. Here, take her.”
Susannah reached for her niece and a dry diaper in one smooth movement, but it didn’t help. Michelle was intent on letting them both know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn’t like her schedule altered. Nor did she appreciate waking up in a stranger’s arms. She conveyed her displeasure in loud boisterous cries.
“I think she might be hungry, too,” Nate suggested, trying to brush the dampness from his housecoat.
“Brilliant observation,” Susannah said sarcastically on her way to the bathroom, Michelle in her arms.
“My, my, you certainly get testy in the mornings,” he said.
“I need coffee.”
“Fine. I’ll make us both a cup while I’m heating a bottle for Michelle.”
“She’s supposed to eat her cereal first,” Susannah shouted. At least that was what Emily had insisted when she’d outlined her daughter’s schedule.
“I’m sure she doesn’t care. She’s hungry.”
“All right, all right,” Susannah yelled from the bathroom. “Heat her bottle first if you want.”
Yelling was a mistake, she soon discovered. Michelle clearly wasn’t any keener on mornings than Susannah was. Punching the air with her stubby legs, her niece made diapering a nearly impossible task. Susannah grew more frustrated by the minute. Finally her hair, falling forward over her shoulders, caught Michelle’s attention. She grasped it, pausing to gulp in a huge breath.
“Do you want me to get that?” she heard Nate shout.
“Get what?”
Apparently it wasn’t important because he didn’t answer her. But a moment later he was standing at the bathroom door.
“It’s for you,” he said.
“What’s for me?”
“The phone.”
The word bounced around in her mind like a ricocheting bullet. “Did…did they say who it was?” she asked, her voice high-pitched and wobbly. No doubt it was someone from the office and she’d be the subject of gossip for months.
“Someone named Emily.”
“Emily,” she repeated. That was even worse. Her sister was sure to be full of awkward questions.
“Hi,” Susannah said as casually as possible into the receiver.
“Who answered the phone?” her sister demanded without preamble.
“My neighbor. Nate Townsend. He, ah, lives next door.” That awkward explanation astonished even her. Worse, Susannah had been ready to blurt out that Nate had spent the night, but she’d stopped herself just in time.
“I haven’t met him, have I?”
“My neighbor? No, you haven’t.”
“He sounds cute.”
“Listen, if you’re phoning about Michelle,” Susannah hurried to add, anxious to end the conversation, “there’s no need for concern. Everything’s under control.” That was a slight exaggeration, but what Emily didn’t know couldn’t worry her.
“Is that Michelle I hear crying in the background?” Emily asked.
“Yes. She just woke up and she’s a little hungry.” Nate was holding the baby and pacing the kitchen, waiting impatiently for Susannah to get off the phone.
“My poor baby,” Emily moaned. “Tell me when you met your neighbor. I don’t remember you ever mentioning anyone named Nate.”
“He’s been helping me out,” Susannah said quickly. Wanting to change the subject, she asked, “How are you and Robert?”
Her sister sighed audibly. “Robert was so right. We needed this weekend alone. I feel a thousand times better and so does he. Every married couple should get away for a few days like this—but then everyone doesn’t have a sister as generous as you to fill in on such short notice.”
“Good, good,” Susannah said, hardly aware of what she was supposed to think was so fantastic. “Uh-oh,” she said, growing desperate. “The bottle’s warm. I hate to cut you off, but I’ve got to take care of Michelle. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then. What time’s your flight landing?”
“One-fifteen. We’ll drive straight to your place and pick up Michelle.”
“Okay, I’ll expect you sometime around two.” Another day with Michelle. She could manage for another twenty-four hours, couldn’t she? What could possibly go wrong in that small amount of time?
Losing patience, Nate took the bottle and Michelle and returned to the living room. Susannah watched through the doorway as he turned on her television and plopped himself down as if he’d been doing it for years. His concentration moved from the TV long enough to place the rubber nipple in Michelle’s eager mouth.
Her niece began greedily sucking, too hungry to care who was feeding her. Good heavens, Susannah thought, Michelle had spent the night in his arms. A little thing like letting this man feed her paled in comparison.
Emily was still chatting, telling her sister how romantic her first night in San Francisco had been. But Susannah barely heard. Her gaze settled on Nate, who looked rumpled, crumpled and utterly content, sitting in her living room, holding an infant in his arms.
That sight affected Susannah as few ever had, and she was powerless to explain its impact on her senses. She’d dated a reasonable number of men—debonair, rich, sophisticated ones. But the feeling she had now, this attraction, had taken her completely by surprise. Over the years, Susannah had always been careful to guard her heart. It hadn’t been difficult, since she’d never met anyone who truly appealed to her. Yet this disheveled, disgruntled male, who sat in her living room feeding her infant niece with enviable expertise, attracted her more profoundly than anyone she’d ever met. It wasn’t the least bit logical. Nothing could ever develop between them—they were as different as…as gelatin and concrete. The last thing she wanted was to become involved in a serious relationship. With some effort, she forced her eyes away from the homey scene.
When at last she was able to hang up the phone, Susannah moved into the living room, feeling weary. She brushed the tangled curls from her face, wondering if she should take Michelle from Nate so he could return to his own apartment. No doubt her niece would resist and humiliate her once more.
“Your sister isn’t flying with Puget Air, is she?” he asked, frowning. His gaze remained on the television screen.
“Yes, why?”
Nate’s mouth thinned. “You…we’re in trouble here. Big trouble. According to the news, maintenance workers for Puget Air are going on strike. By six tonight, every plane they own will be grounded.”

CHAPTER 3 (#u88a839e0-ba23-5e05-b2fa-5b6f8be675e5)
“If this is a joke,” Susannah told him angrily, “it’s in poor taste.”
“Would I kid about this?” Nate asked mildly.
Susannah slumped down on the edge of the sofa and gave a ragged sigh. This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. “I’d better call Emily.” She assumed her sister was blissfully unaware of the strike.
Susannah was back a few minutes later.
“Well?” Nate demanded. “What did she say?”
“Oh, she knew all along,” Susannah replied disparagingly, “but she didn’t want to say anything because she was afraid I’d worry.”
“How exactly does she intend to get home?”
“Apparently they booked seats on another airline on the off chance something like this might happen.”
“That was smart.”
“My brother-in-law’s like that. I’m not to give the matter another thought,” she said, quoting Emily. “My sister will be back Sunday afternoon as promised.” If the Fates so decreed—and Susannah said a fervent prayer that they would.
But the Fates had other plans.
* * *
Sunday morning, there were bags under Susannah’s eyes. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and convinced anew that motherhood was definitely not for her. Two nights into the ordeal, Susannah had noticed that the emotional stirring for a husband and children came to her only when Michelle was sleeping or eating. And with good reason.
Nate arrived around nine bearing gifts. He brought freshly baked cinnamon rolls still warm from the oven. He stood in her doorway, tall and lean, with a smile bright enough to dazzle the most dedicated career woman. Once more, Susannah was shocked by her overwhelming reaction to him. Her heart leaped to her throat, and she immediately wished she’d taken time to dress in something better than her faded housecoat.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” she said, bouncing Michelle on her hip.
“I take it you had a bad night.”
“Michelle was fussing. She didn’t seem the least bit interested in sleeping.” She wiped a hand over her face.
“I wish you’d called me,” Nate said, taking her by the elbow and leading her into the kitchen. He actually looked guilty because he’d had a peaceful night’s rest. Ridiculous, Susannah thought.
“Call you? Whatever for?” she asked. “So you could have paced with her, too?” As it was, Nate had spent a good part of Saturday in and out of her apartment helping her. Spending a second night with them was above and beyond the call of duty. “Did I tell you,” Susannah said, yawning, “Michelle’s got a new tooth coming in—I felt it myself.” Deposited in the high chair, Michelle was content for the moment.
Nate nodded and glanced at his watch. “When does your sister’s flight get in?”
“One-fifteen.” No sooner had the words left her lips than the phone rang. Susannah’s and Nate’s eyes met, and as it rang a second time she wondered how a telephone could sound so much like a death knell. Even before she answered it, Susannah knew it would be what she most dreaded hearing.
“Well?” Nate asked when she’d finished the call.
Covering her face with both hands, Susannah sagged against the wall.
“Say something.”
Slowly she lowered her hands. “Help.”
“Help?”
“Yes,” she cried, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. “All Puget Air flights are grounded just the way the news reported, and the other airline Robert and Emily made reservations with is overbooked. The earliest flight they can get is tomorrow morning.”
“I see.”
“Obviously you don’t!” she cried. “Tomorrow is Monday and I’ve got to be at work!”
“Call in sick.”
“I can’t do that,” she snapped, angry with him for even suggesting such a thing. “My marketing group is giving their presentation and I’ve got to be there.”
“Why?”
She frowned at him. It was futile to expect someone like Nate to understand something as important as a sales presentation. Nate didn’t seem to have a job; he didn’t worry about a career. For that matter, he couldn’t possibly grasp that a woman holding a management position had to strive twice as hard to prove herself.
“I’m not trying to be cute, Susannah,” he said with infuriating calm. “I honestly want to know why that meeting is so important.”
“Because it is. I don’t expect you to appreciate this, so just accept the fact that I have to be there.”
Nate cocked his head and idly rubbed the side of his jaw. “First, answer me something. Five years from now, will this meeting make a difference in your life?”
“I don’t know.” She pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. She’d had less than three hours’ sleep, and Nate was asking impossible questions. Michelle, bless her devilish little heart, had fallen asleep in her high chair. Why shouldn’t she? Susannah reasoned. She’d spent the entire night fussing, and was exhausted now. By the time Susannah had discovered the new tooth, she felt as if she’d grown it herself.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t sweat it,” Nate said with that same nonchalant attitude. “If you aren’t there to hear their presentation, your marketing group will give it Tuesday morning.”
“In other words,” she muttered, “you’re saying I don’t have a thing to worry about.”
“Exactly.”
Nate Townsend knew next to nothing about surviving in the corporate world, and he’d obviously been protected from life’s harsher realities. It was all too obvious to Susannah that he was a man with a baseball-cap mentality. He couldn’t be expected to fully comprehend her dilemma.
“So,” he said now, “what are you going to do?”
Susannah wasn’t sure. Briefly, she closed her eyes in an effort to concentrate. Impose discipline, she said to herself. Stay calm. That was crucial. Think slowly and analyze your objectives. For every problem there was a solution.
“Susannah?”
She glanced at him; she’d almost forgotten he was there. “I’ll cancel my early-morning appointments and go in for the presentation,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“What about Michelle? Are you going to hire a sitter?”
A babysitter hired by the babysitter. A novel thought, perhaps even viable, but Susannah didn’t know anyone who sat with babies.
Then she made her decision. She would take Michelle to work with her.
And that was exactly what she did.
* * *
As she knew it would, Susannah’s arrival at H&J Lima caused quite a stir. At precisely ten the following morning, she stepped off the elevator. Her black leather briefcase was clutched in one hand and Michelle was pressed against her hip with the other. Head held high, Susannah marched across the hardwood floor, past the long rows of doorless cubicles and shelves of foot-thick file binders. Several employees moved away from their desks to view her progress. A low rumble of hushed whispers followed her.
“Good morning, Ms. Brooks,” Susannah said crisply as she walked into her office, the diaper bag draped over her shoulder like an ammunition pouch.
“Ms. Simmons.”
Susannah noted that her assistant—to her credit—didn’t so much as bat an eye. The woman was well trained; to all outward appearances, Susannah regularly arrived at the office with a nine-month-old infant attached to her hip.
Depositing the diaper bag on the floor, Susannah took her place behind a six-foot-wide walnut desk. Content for the moment, Michelle sat on her lap, gleefully viewing her aunt’s domain.
“Would you like some coffee?” Ms. Brooks asked.
“Yes, please.”
Her assistant paused. “Will your, ah…”
“This is my niece, Michelle, Ms. Brooks.”
The woman nodded. “Will Michelle require anything to drink?”
“No, but thanks anyway. Is there anything urgent in the mail?”
“Nothing that can’t wait. I canceled your eight and nine o’clock appointments,” her assistant went on to explain. “When I spoke to Mr. Adams, he asked if you could join him for drinks tomorrow night at six.”
“That’ll be fine.” The old lecher would love to do all their business outside the office. On this occasion, she’d agree to his terms, since she’d been the one to cancel their appointment, but she wouldn’t be so willing a second time. She’d never much cared for Andrew Adams, who was overweight, balding and a general nuisance.
“Will you be needing me for anything else?” Ms. Brooks asked when she delivered the coffee.
“Nothing. Thank you.”
As she should have predicted, the meeting was an unmitigated disaster. The presentation took twenty-two minutes, and in that brief time Michelle managed to dismantle Susannah’s Cross pen, unfasten her blouse and pull her hair free from her carefully styled French twist. The baby clapped her hands at various inappropriate points and made loud noises. At the low point of the meeting, Susannah had been forced to leave her seat and dive under the conference table to retrieve her niece, who was cheerfully crawling over everyone’s feet.
By the time she got home, Susannah felt like climbing back into bed and staying there. It was the type of day that made her crave something chocolate and excessively sweet. But there weren’t enough chocolate chip cookies in the world to see her through another morning like that one.
To Susannah’s surprise, Nate met her in the foyer outside the elevator. She took one look at him and resisted the urge to burst into tears.
“I take it things didn’t go well.”
“How’d you guess?” she asked sarcastically.
“It might be the fact you’re wearing your hair down when I specifically remember you left wearing it up. Or it could be that your blouse is buttoned wrong and there’s a gaping hole in the middle.” His smile was mischievous. “I wondered if you were the type to wear a lacy bra. Now I know.”
Susannah groaned and slapped a hand over her front. He could have spared her that comment.
“Here, kiddo,” he said, taking Michelle out of Susannah’s arms. “It looks like we need to give your poor aunt a break.”
Turning her back, Susannah refastened her blouse and then brought out her key. Her once orderly, immaculate apartment looked as if a cyclone had gone through it. Blankets and baby toys were scattered from one end of the living room to the other. She’d slept on the couch in order to be close to Michelle, and her pillow and blankets were still there, along with her blue suit jacket, which she’d been forced to change when Michelle had tossed a spoonful of plums on the sleeve.
“What happened here?” Nate asked, looking in astonishment at the scene before him.
“Three days and three nights with Michelle and you need to ask?”
“Sit down,” he said gently. “I’ll get you a cup of coffee.” Susannah did as he suggested, too grateful to argue with him.
Nate stopped just inside the kitchen. “What’s this purple stuff all over the walls?”
“Plums,” Susannah informed him. “I discovered the hard way that Michelle hates plums.”
The scene in the kitchen was a good example of how her morning had gone. It had taken Susannah the better part of three hours to get herself and Michelle ready for the excursion to the office. And that was just the beginning.
“What I need is a double martini,” she told Nate when he carried in two cups of coffee.
“It’s not even noon.”
“I know,” she said, slowly lowering herself to the sofa. “Can you imagine what I’d need if it was two o’clock?”
Chuckling, Nate handed her the steaming cup. Michelle was sitting on the carpet, content to play with the very toys she’d vehemently rejected that morning.
Nate unexpectedly sat down next to her and looped his arm over her shoulder. She tensed, but if he noticed, he chose to ignore it. He stretched his legs out on the coffee table and relaxed.
Susannah felt her tension mount. The memory of the meeting with marketing was enough to elevate her blood pressure, but when she analyzed the reasons for this anxiety, she discovered it came from being so close to Nate. It wasn’t that Susannah objected to his touch; in reality, quite the opposite was true. They’d spent three days in close quarters, and contrary to everything she’d theorized about her neighbor, she’d come to appreciate his happy-go-lucky approach to life. But it was diametrically opposed to her own, and the fact that she could be so attracted to him was something of a shock.

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