The Single Dad's Patchwork Family

Was it because she’d never see him again? Was it like talking to a fellow passenger on a plane—that sense of being able to say anything because their paths would never cross again?

Or was it because, for some strange reason, she felt a connection to him? As if he was someone she could trust. As if he was a friend.

Either way, she’d probably said enough.

‘What happened?’

She turned back and met his gentle, encouraging gaze. Her resistance crumbled and the words flowed out before she could stop them.

‘He had no idea what he was doing. Oh, he talked as if he knew all about the industry but, when it came down to it, he had no business sense whatsoever. We nearly lost everything.’

‘But you found out in time to save it?’

She winced. ‘I found out when he left me. Left me, his children, the business.’ She spread her hands, palms up. ‘The whole lot.’

She saw a flash of anger in his eyes but it was followed by concern and he waited silently for her to go on, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his linked hands.

‘That was when I took over. I didn’t have a choice. Everyone depended on me. The employees. My family. I had to support my children. And I didn’t know much about the business except what I’d learned from listening to Dad.’ She made a frustrated gesture.

‘Rather from overhearing him talk about it. He’d never tried to teach me anything because he didn’t think there was any need to.’ And he probably wouldn’t have thought of her as a successor. Growing up, he hadn’t thought about her much at all to be honest, too consumed in making the business a success. The knowledge was like a lead weight in her stomach.

She’d told Chase she hadn’t a choice, but in truth she had. No one had forced her to take over the business. She could have let it go and found herself a job. Strictly nine-to-five.

But could she have coped with the shame of allowing the family business to be destroyed? With seeing the employees—all those people—out of a job because of her husband’s bad business mistakes?

Not a chance.

She’d felt a compulsion to clear up the mess that Jack had made. She couldn’t possibly let all her father’s work be wasted. But that wasn’t all—she’d suddenly had an irrational need to show her father she could do it. He might have been dead but Regan had still been looking for his elusive approval.

And, at the same time, she’d thought it was the best way of supporting her children. It had been a lucrative business in her father’s day. If she could turn around the damage, she knew it could be lucrative again. And, when the boys were old enough, she could hand it over to them to manage. It was their heritage.

Of course, she’d underestimated how difficult it would be to juggle the demands of the business and her desire to be there for her children.

But she’d coped. Just about.

‘How long ago was this?’ Chase jogged her from her thoughts and she refocused on his face.

‘Five years. And it’s taken almost all of that time to get the business back on track.’

He nodded. ‘It’s going well now?’

‘Touch wood.’ She tapped two fingers against the dark timber table. ‘Yes, it’s ticking over nicely. I’m about to tie up a contract with a Japanese restaurant chain and that will set us up for several years. The pressure will be off. Finally.’

The waiter brought their meals and she leaned back while he arranged a plate in front of her. No matter how encouraging Chase was, she really should stop talking now.

‘Well, I’m very impressed,’ he said as the waiter left.

She made a dismissive gesture.

‘No, really. What you’ve done is amazing.’

She could have sworn her whole body blushed. She dropped her gaze to the fish and picked up her fork. ‘That’s enough about me. What do you do?’

CHAPTER TWO

‘SO, YOU do nothing?’ Regan looked down at the food on her plate and Chase thought he caught a flash of disapproval as she dropped her gaze.

He took a sip of water. Regan had declined wine, which was probably a good idea considering what had happened earlier, so he’d chosen mineral water, too. Technically, yes. In employment terms, he did nothing, but he wouldn’t describe his lifestyle in Leo Bay like that.

Regan probably had him pegged as one of those characters the current affairs shows were keen on spotlighting. Bludgers who survived on taxpayers’ money while they spent their days catching waves.

The idea of her thinking badly of him sat uncomfortably in his stomach and he hurried to explain. As she reached for her glass, he said, ‘I’ve taken time out of my career to raise my daughter.’

Her face changed, brightened, and hell, she had a lovely smile.

‘You have sole custody, too? When was your divorce?’

‘I’m not divorced.’ He frowned. ‘My wife passed away three and a half years ago.’

After a moment’s stunned silence, she said softly, ‘I’m sorry.’

His head twitched in acknowledgement. He’d never got used to accepting sympathy.

‘How did she…?’ Flapping a hand, she said, ‘No, of course you won’t want to talk about it.’

‘It’s okay.’ He paused while the waiter refilled their glasses.

He could talk about Larissa. Now. When he’d first moved from the city, he hadn’t been able to. Hadn’t been able to even think about her without breaking down. But that had changed. Living in Leo Bay had done that for him.

He still missed her; how could he not? They’d planned to spend a lifetime together. And he’d been happy married to her. He’d wanted the whole package—wife, kids and career.

Life had a way of ensuring a man didn’t get too cocky.

Yet there were men like Regan’s husband who had it all and threw it away. He felt a sudden surge of anger. He couldn’t understand a man like that. He’d never know how a father could desert his children.

Life hadn’t been easy for him after Larissa’s death, but he’d never once thought of leaving Phoebe to someone else’s care.

It had been one of his few strokes of genius when he’d decided to take a sabbatical and move out to the Eyre Peninsula beach shack that had been left to Larissa by her parents—along with a sizeable inheritance he would never touch. It would go to Phoebe when she became an adult.

Larissa had spent her childhood holidays at the shack and, though they’d never discussed it, he’d known instinctively that she’d been happy there.

From the moment he and Phoebe had arrived at the front door, he’d been filled with a sense of doing right. It was as if he could feel Larissa’s spirit all around him. As if she’d wanted them to live there. The comfort he’d taken from that odd sensation had helped to ease the pain.

It was a much more simple life he led now, away from the demands of city living and the world in general. Simple was good. It had helped him cope, helped him retain his sanity.

And then there was Phoebe. Watching his daughter grow and learn had gone a long way towards filling the hole in his battered heart.

Regan fidgeted with her napkin and he snapped back to the present. ‘Cancer,’ he said.

She made a sympathetic noise.

‘Breast cancer. Trouble was, she found out about it the same week we learned she was pregnant and, consequently, she refused treatment and kept the bad news to herself.’ He spoke matter-of-factly, but there’d been nothing straightforward about his emotions at the time he’d discovered her illness.

‘By the time I worked out there was something wrong and it wasn’t just the strain of pregnancy on her body that was making her sick, it was too late. It was a very aggressive disease.’

He stared at the tablecloth, tracing the white threads with his fingertip.

‘I can understand what she did,’ Regan said in a gentle voice.

He looked up. ‘Can you?’ He shook his head. ‘Must be a female thing. Larissa said it was her maternal instinct. I don’t believe you’d find many husbands who’d agree with that course of action.’

‘No, I don’t suppose so. A mother’s protectiveness starts early. Well before a baby’s born.’ She pulled a face. ‘A father’s protectiveness only kicks in after the baby’s born, if…if…’

‘If it kicks in at all,’ he finished for her, smiling at her horrified expression.

‘I’m so sorry. I wasn’t referring to your situation. I didn’t mean to imply you’re anything like my ex.’

‘No, I know.’ He took another drink of water while he gathered his thoughts. ‘She should have told me.’ He paused, frowning. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I worship Phoebe and I wouldn’t be without her. I wouldn’t allow anything to hurt her. Anything. But to have to watch your wife die…and all the time, to know that she’d had a choice.’

He shrugged. ‘She chose to die rather than live—’ His voice cracked and he shook his head. He’d thought he could talk about that time of his life. Seemed he was wrong. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, don’t apologise. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have asked in the first place.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m so sorry about what you went through.’

He saw the truth of her words in her clear blue eyes and it warmed him. She wasn’t the breezy businesswoman she pretended to be. He got the impression she had a sensitive soul.

He told her a little about his daughter while they ate, and she reciprocated by describing her two boys. Again, he wondered how her husband could have come to terms with leaving them, not to mention giving up someone as…unique as Regan. If Larissa had lived, he’d never have left her. He had no doubt about that.

Regan was telling him about her elder son’s obsession with all things Roman.

‘His father was from Rome originally and I suspect that Will has the wrong idea of the city—he thinks it’s still like ancient Rome, full of gladiators and people in togas. I’ve told him it’s not, but…’

‘Is that where he lives now?’

She looked up. ‘Jack? I have no idea where he is. Somewhere in Italy, I think.’

‘You don’t have any contact with him at all?’

She shook her head as she put down her cutlery. ‘When he left, he just disappeared. I tried all the places I thought he might have gone, but…’ She shrugged. ‘He didn’t want to be found, obviously. And he hasn’t been in touch since. For my part, I’m glad. In fact, I consider myself lucky that I didn’t have to go through a custody battle like my best friend Anna did. She had a terrible time, poor thing. At least I was spared that, but for the boys’ sake…’ Her face twisted.

‘I can’t say they miss him because they were too young when he left, but they talk to other children, so even in these days of unconventional families they know there’s something missing from their lives.’

After a moment, she looked at her watch and her eyebrows shot up. ‘It’s late. It’s time I headed home.’

‘You haven’t finished your meal.’

‘I’ve had enough. I still have work to do this evening. I have this contract to sort out—the one I mentioned earlier.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll call a taxi and see you home.’

‘No. No need. Stay and finish your meal. I have my car. It’s not far and…’ Her words trailed off and she looked less sure of herself.

He gave her an amused look. ‘And you don’t want me to know where you live?’

She winced. ‘It’s not you, it’s…me.’ She winced again at the cliché. ‘I don’t do this,’ she said, waving a hand at her half-empty plate.

‘Eat? I think we established that earlier.’

She made the gesture more expansive, encompassing the table and the two of them seated at it. ‘This. When I’m not working, I’m spending quality time with my children. I don’t have time for anything else.’

‘You don’t socialise with friends?’

She hesitated. ‘Well, yes, I do. But we’re not friends. We only met tonight and we’ll probably never see each other again.’

He looked away. He didn’t understand why he should be disappointed. Why, in one evening, she’d gone from a woman he’d admired on sight but had no intention of pursuing, to someone he was very keen to know better.

She was beautiful, but it wasn’t that. Or, he should say, it wasn’t only that. For some unknown reason, he felt comfortable with her. He could talk to her. He’d told her about Larissa and that placed her in a very select group of people.

But she wasn’t interested in being his friend. She didn’t even want to see him again.

Suppressing a sigh, he looked back at her, just in time to see her take a credit card from her purse.

‘No,’ he said, giving his hand a quick shake. ‘I’m staying at this hotel. I’ve already charged the meal to my room.’

She put the card away. ‘Thank you.’

She wasn’t so pale now that she had some food inside her. She’d worried him when her face had turned as white as the tablecloth.

He wouldn’t patronize her by thinking she needed—or wanted—someone to look after her. She clearly managed a successful business as well as a family all on her own, and it would be insane to imagine she was helpless, but there was something about her that made him want to help.

The slight flush in her cheeks suited her. It made her eyes sparkle more brightly, which he wouldn’t have thought possible.

‘Let me give you my number.’ He reached into his jacket as he spoke.

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Really, there’s no point. I don’t have time to go out. This is so unusual for me.’

He separated one business card from the small pile and held it out to her, willing her to take it. ‘I don’t go out either, but I’d like you to have my mobile number, just in case.’

‘In case?’

He shrugged. ‘In case you want someone to talk to. In case you need a friend.’ He thought it sounded lame but didn’t know what else to say. It just felt wrong to let Regan disappear.

She reached for the card, frowning as she scanned it. ‘You’re a lawyer? You didn’t say so.’

‘Not practising. Ignore all the details on the card except the mobile number. It’s still the same.’

She nodded and slipped the card away. ‘Thank you.’

He knew she had no intention of calling. She couldn’t even meet his eyes. She’d probably throw the card away as soon as she got home.

It shouldn’t matter. He’d only just met her. He shouldn’t care whether she liked him or not.

As she stood, he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. He couldn’t help it; he did care.

‘Don’t bother seeing me out.’ She flapped a hand at him. ‘I hope you enjoy what’s left of your meal. And…it was nice meeting you.’

Her voice had dropped to a murmur on the last words, but he heard her well enough to believe she meant it. Hope leapt into his chest.

‘It was great to meet you, Regan.’ He held out his hand and, after a slight hesitation, she shook it. ‘Remember, call me if you need anything,’ he said, holding on to her soft hand a second longer than strictly necessary.

She looked into his face, her eyes shining. But she didn’t speak or even nod. She simply pulled her hand from his and walked away.

A week after the launch of the tourist trail, Regan rubbed her forehead and let her eyes drift away from the computer screen. She glanced across at her two sons, who were quietly colouring pictures, but she’d promised they wouldn’t have to sit there for too long. They were boys; they had energy to burn.

She worked at home as much as possible in order to spend time with Will and Cory. They had an arrangement that if the boys sat quietly and let her concentrate while working at her computer, she’d reciprocate by playing a noisy game with them when she’d finished.

Regan normally had her mother around for back-up when she needed to go into the office, but her grandfather’s health had taken a turn for the worse and her mother had decided to move in with him for a little while, to look after him. He’d been relatively self-sufficient till now, at least in a physical sense. Financially, he was one more person who relied on Regan. Not that she begrudged him the money. Of course she didn’t.

She did wish, though, that Pop would move closer to them. He lived alone in a small town further up the coast. If he lived nearby, they’d be able to make sure he was taking care of himself. As it was, her mother would travel up to see him as often as possible and stay with him when she thought he needed some help. And Regan worried that it was too much for her mother.

With her mother at Pop’s for the next week or so, she had a child-care problem. Her other back-up, her best friend Anna, was currently overseas on a long-anticipated trip to discover her roots in northern England. She missed Anna. The boys missed Anna’s children, too. They were all good friends and until now she’d always been able to rely on Anna to pitch in and help when necessary.

She let out a deep sigh.

‘Are you finished, Mum?’

‘No, Will. A little longer.’

The boys exchanged a glance and she felt a pang. They’d sat still long enough and she wasn’t achieving much anyway; she was too distracted. Closing her eyes, she wondered if any of her other friends would be able to babysit for a few hours during the next week. Unlikely. They were all busy with their own lives and, besides, she hadn’t been in touch with them recently. A couple of them—girls she’d known since her schooldays—would always be friends no matter what. When they met it would be the same as always. But they lived in the city now and had their own commitments.

Other friends were married couples she’d known while with Jack. Her divorce had shifted the emphasis of those friendships and she’d felt strange with them for a while—especially when she was the odd one out in a room full of couples. In a sense, she’d been glad of the lack-of-time excuse to stay away, but she’d like to catch up with all of them again. Now, though, when she needed a favour, was not the right time.

In case you need a friend…

The memory of Chase Mattner’s voice made her eyes snap open. She looked straight at the business card he’d given her. She’d intended to throw it away as soon as she’d got home from dinner that night, but something had stopped her. Instead, she’d carried it to work in her briefcase, then brought it home again and tucked it into the corner of the desk blotter in her study where it had stayed all week. And she’d thought about ringing him at least once a day.

Could she ring him?

Just to talk.

She’d been shocked at how easy it was to talk to him, to open up to him. She’d almost forgotten they’d only just met. Almost. But it wasn’t every day a man like him walked into her life.

She reached for the business card with the name of a high-profile city law firm printed in a no-nonsense typeface across the top and, for the first time, read Chase’s details.

Partner?

He’d been a partner? How had he managed the transition from a prestigious job like that to full-time father? And in such a place, too. She hadn’t been to Leo Bay for years but, from what she remembered, there was hardly anything to the settlement—a few beach shacks, not much more. It couldn’t even be called a small town.

Presumably, he didn’t need to work, but didn’t he want to?

Her hand shot out and pushed the card back into the spot it had occupied for a week.

What was she thinking?

She chewed on her lip. The truth was, she was thinking it would be good to talk to him again. It would be good to see him again. It would be good to have Chase Mattner as a friend.

It had been difficult to walk away from him, but she’d reminded herself that she wasn’t a great judge of men, wasn’t any sort of a judge at all. Since that night, though, she’d remembered the break in his voice when he’d spoken about his wife, and the change in his eyes when he’d talked of his daughter, and she’d wished she hadn’t been so emphatic about not calling.

But she’d told him she wouldn’t. What would he think of her if she changed her mind now?

A little voice told her he would think nothing bad.

Her hand crept out again and she pulled the card across the blotter towards her. She could ring to thank him for dinner. She’d thanked him briefly, but it would be polite to do it again. Properly.

And what about rescuing her when she nearly fainted? If it hadn’t been for him, she could have found herself sprawled across the floor of the function room and just the thought of that made her hot with embarrassment. She hadn’t thanked him for saving her from the mortification of it.

She picked up the card and dug one corner into her chin while her stomach flip-flopped with indecision.

She’d do it.

As soon as she’d made the decision, her stomach cramped into a tight ball. She’d never been so worked up about a simple phone call.

Picking up the handset, she glanced across at the boys again. She couldn’t talk to Chase in front of them, even if they’d have no idea who she was speaking to or what she was talking about.

‘Boys, I’m just going into the next room for a minute. Don’t touch anything, okay?’

She waited till they both nodded before slipping through the door into the empty dining room and dialling the mobile number on the card.

‘Chase Mattner.’

Her eyes closed. Until a few moments ago, she hadn’t seriously thought she’d hear his voice again and now it sent a shock right through her. It took her back to the moment he’d first spoken and her first sight of his sun-bronzed face with the kind, understanding eyes.

‘Hello?’ he said, his voice curious at the silence.

‘It’s Regan Jantz,’ she said in a rush before she could change her mind and hit the disconnect button.

‘Regan?’

He hadn’t expected her to call. She could hear the surprise in his voice. She shouldn’t have—

‘Wow. I’m so glad you called.’

A shudder turned into a wave of warmth. ‘You are?’

‘Yes, of course. But I didn’t think you would.’

‘No, me neither.’ Her voice sounded odd and she cleared her throat. ‘Actually, I was ringing to thank you.’

‘Oh?’

‘For dinner.’

‘You’re welcome, Regan. It was my pleasure.’

‘And for your help earlier that evening, for getting me out of that room without anyone noticing. I dread to think what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.’

‘Well, don’t think about it. It didn’t happen; your dignity is intact. None of your potential clients have any idea what went on.’

‘Thank you.’

‘No problem. I’m glad I could help.’

‘I’m grateful and…’ She hesitated long enough for her stomach to lurch. ‘If there’s anything I can do for you in return…’

There was a brief silence.

‘I mean, if I can help you—’

‘Well, as it happens…do you bake?’

‘Bake?’

‘As in cakes.’

‘I used to. It’s been, uh, ages. Why?’

‘It’s Phoebe’s birthday today and she asked me to make her a pink cake for tea. Don’t know why. She’s never had one before so I don’t know where she got the idea. But that’s what she wants and I thought it would be easy.’

‘You’ve tried to make one?’

‘Uh-huh. I’m hoping you can tell me where I’ve gone wrong. I’m running out of time.’

An image bloomed in her mind. Chase in a kitchen. In an apron. Surrounded by baking debris. Before she knew it, a burst of laughter bubbled in her throat and she couldn’t hold it back.

‘I’ll ignore the fact that you just laughed at me,’ he said and she could hear suppressed laughter in his own voice. ‘I’m desperate. This so-called cake is so bad it’s not funny.’

‘Right. Sorry.’ She banished the picture of Chase and cleared her throat. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘It’s thin and crispy. Like a pizza base.’

She hissed in a breath through her teeth. ‘Did you follow a recipe?’

‘Yep. I borrowed a book from my friend, Jan. She’s taken Phoebe for the afternoon to give me the time and space to make it. I should have asked Jan to make the cake instead.’

‘But Phoebe asked you to make it.’

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually made a birthday cake for either Will or Cory. No, that wasn’t true; she could remember. It had been Will’s first birthday. The only birthday Jack had been there for. Before her life had been turned upside-down. Since then, she’d resorted to shop-bought cakes. Biting her lip, she hoped the boys hadn’t been disappointed. Then she rolled her eyes. They wouldn’t even know the difference—but she’d make up for it. She’d make cakes for both birthdays this year. She’d surprise them with something special.