The Mommy Makeover

“Malloy,” she greeted him, knowing she wasn’t ever likely to forget his name again. It should have been easy to remember. He wore his Irish heritage like an ID badge. Wavy, black hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and a tall, muscular physique. And if she was in the mood to notice, a rugged, handsome face as well. But she wasn’t in the mood. Had she thought he could have been nervous? No, that wasn’t his problem. He didn’t lack an iota in the confidence department.

“Ma’am,” he replied, without as much of his earlier cockiness.

Good, perhaps he’s learning, she thought as he opened the passenger door.

Katelyn slid inside, leaning her head back against the seat, grateful the long evening was nearly over. As Finn opened his door, she straightened up, not willing to have anyone witness her fatigue. It was a sign of weakness, something she couldn’t tolerate.

As her head became level, she met three curious pairs of eyes. Since their heads barely reached the top of the seat, she could only assume they were very small children.

“Malloy?”

“Uh, these are my kids.” He tapped the first one’s head. “This is Jenny—she’s five. And the matching monsters are the twins—Erin and Eric. They’re three.”

Katelyn’s eyes moved between him and the children. “But what are they doing here?”

“Ah. Another baby-sitter quit. Since it was the middle of the night, I couldn’t get another one on such short notice.”

Katelyn refused to disguise her impatience or distaste. “Your personal problems are not my concern. I expect you to remedy the situation immediately.” She snapped out the order with all the compassion of a drill sergeant.

“What do you suggest? That I toss them out on the sidewalk until I’ve driven you home?”

Three woeful faces stared at her and she resisted the urge to squirm. “Of course not. But you have until tomorrow to take care of—” she glanced at the children “—it. If not, expect your firm to lose our contract. There are plenty of chauffeuring firms. I don’t need…” She looked again at the winsome trio. “Complications. You read me?”

“Like the Marine handbook.”

While she wondered at his odd reply, he buckled the kids into seat belts. From her vantage point they literally disappeared from sight. Relief filled her along with a nostalgic tugging that had attacked her more often than she wanted to admit. Her friend, Stefanie, insisted that it was her biological clock.

But Katelyn refused to believe her. Even though in the few still, quiet moments she allowed herself, Katelyn wondered at her decision to forego marriage and children. Wondered what it would be like to have a little moppet of her own.

Then she would remember her mother—how she’d never had time for her. Career-driven, she had left Katelyn’s upbringing to nannies and housekeepers. It wasn’t a fate she was willing to inflict on another generation. So, she pushed aside the urges, ignored the ticking of her biological clock and concentrated on the satisfaction her career gave her. She knew she wasn’t cut out to be one of the stay-at-home mommies, content to drive a minivan, spend her days wiping running noses, and exist in her husband’s shadow. No, she was too smart for that.

One of the children started to whine at that moment and Katelyn was immediately grateful for her own generous share of common sense.

She saw Finn reach over to soothe the child, speaking in a gentle voice as he did. Soon the whimpers quieted, but Katelyn wondered when the next protest would erupt. Now fully alert, despite her fatiguing evening, she was too anxious to stay quiet.

“So, Malloy, why isn’t your wife home with the kids? Does she work evenings?”

There was a small moment of silence, then she heard him clear his throat. “I lost my wife when the twins were born.”

Katelyn felt an immediate sense of remorse for probing at such a painful subject. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“You couldn’t,” he replied shortly.

“Hmm, right.” Katelyn knew when she was in uncharted territory and retreated back into silence.

Finn apparently caught the message because he was quiet as well, driving them swiftly through the night. It didn’t take long to reach her condo. After she’d exited the limo, Katelyn glimpsed the children through Finn’s open door. Sleeping, they looked like little angels. But she suspected that was an illusion.

“I have a nine-o’clock meeting at the Republic Bank Building. Be here at eight sharp in the morning.”

Once again he tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

FINN WATCHED HER walk inside, but he was almost too tired to appreciate the view. He turned to the car just as Erin woke up crying. Her wails woke her twin brother and Jenny was only a few moments behind. He guessed by the time they got home and he managed to get them to sleep, half the night would be gone. And he’d have to be up early to find a baby-sitter for the day, not to mention a permanent one.

Eight o’clock sharp, huh? He might be there at eight, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be sharp.

The drive home was just enough time for the children to deeply fall asleep. Finn tried not to waken them as he carried each one inside. The twins were the easiest. Although they fretted a bit, they settled back to sleep fairly quickly. Jenny, however, was more difficult.

“I had a dream, Daddy,” she muttered, clinging to him as he tried to put her to bed.

Patiently, he pushed the damp hair away from her forehead. “What did you dream about, sweetie?”

“I dreamed I called and called, but no one was there, Daddy.”

Pain clenched Finn’s heart. He agonized over the time he had to leave the children with sitters. No doubt it was stealing their sense of security. “I’m here now.”

Jenny had taken her mother’s death hard. Still little more than a baby herself, she had sobbed for her mother. In those first days, Jenny had cried herself to sleep each night in exhaustion. Finn had always picked her up to soothe her, but inevitably Jenny’s cries would waken the twins. Physically, it wasn’t possible to hold a toddler and two newborns at the same time. Despite a succession of housekeepers, there simply wasn’t enough time for the children. That was why Finn had started his limo service, in the hopes of spending more time with them. He stroked her soft, dark hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy’s here.”

She hiccuped a remaining half-cry. “I miss Mommy.”

Despite her young age, Jenny had clung to the memories of her mother. Finn had learned the hard way that a traumatic event such as death could remain even in a young child’s memory. Emotion clogged his throat. “I know, honey. I miss her, too.” Finn watched as Jenny settled down a bit, wishing fate hadn’t been so unkind to their family.

“Daddy, are we ever going to have a mommy again?”

This time the pain felt worse. Finn knew the children needed a mother. Housekeepers and babysitters were no substitute. And he couldn’t spend as much time with the children as they needed—he had to earn a living. But he was neither inclined nor eager to try the dating scene. And when was there time? As it was, he was running constantly to try and stay on top of things. Any woman who wandered into their chaotic household would no doubt leave shrieking.

He met Jenny’s questioning eyes. “What makes you ask about a mommy now?”

Jenny lifted small shoulders in a half-shrug. “Brianna’s mommy is real nice. She makes cookies in the oven, not from the store. And she knows which clothes Barbie wears and she knows how to fix Brianna’s hair into really pretty braids.”

Finn sighed. All the things he couldn’t do. “But I bet she can’t rebuild an engine.”

Jenny scrunched her face in girlish disdain. “Icky. Why would girls want to know that?”

Why indeed? “Maybe we could try that hair thing. Braids, eh?”

“Uh, huh. French fried braids.”

Finn drew his brows together. “Braids that look like French fries?”

“Daddy! They don’t look like French fries, they are French fried.”

Finn looked at her in puzzlement. What the heck were French fried braids? He wasn’t sure which one of them was confused, but he was fairly certain one of them was. “Tell you what, Jen. I’ll figure out how to make them, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied reluctantly. Then she lifted large expressive eyes, instant reminders of his late wife, Angela. “But it’s still not the same as having a mommy.”

Of course not. As hard as he tried, Finn could never replace her mother. There was one thing he could never overcome. He wasn’t a woman.

Exhausted, Finn hoped that Jenny would fall asleep soon. He would be lucky if he managed to grab even a few hours’ sleep before his early morning assignment. And he guessed his new boss would have little tolerance if he showed up late. She might look dynamite, but unfortunately she was as equally explosive.

Jenny curled her hand trustingly in his and Finn resigned himself to staying by her side. Perhaps Ms. Amhurst would wake up on the right side of the bed in the morning. She couldn’t be as tough as she appeared.

Chapter Two

Katelyn rechecked her watch, drummed her fingers over the wine-colored leather of her briefcase and then tapped her shoe impatiently. Five minutes after eight. Hadn’t she told that cocky driver to be there at precisely eight o’clock?

She took another drag on her cigarette as she looked out of the glass double doors of her lobby and saw Malloy’s limo pulling into the circle drive. Quickly ditching the cigarette, she pushed open the lobby doors and strode outside. Malloy leapt from the car, but she was faster, yanking open the rear door herself.

“You’re late,” she greeted him, slamming her briefcase on the seat beside her as she slid inside.

“Good morning,” Finn replied, wondering if the woman had replaced her Cheerios with ice cubes or, possibly, ground glass.

She merely glared in response.

Finn considered telling her it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d shown up at all, considering he’d had to find a baby-sitter, put out all his domestic fires, and then turn an hour drive through traffic to her condo into thirty-five minutes. And all of that had been accomplished on almost no sleep. But, he suspected she wouldn’t care. It was his job, after all, and his messy personal predicaments were none of her concern.

He pulled out of the driveway. “We’ll get there in plenty of time,” he assured her.

She grunted in reply and opened her briefcase.

Finn grasped the thermos in the seat beside him, then lifted it so that she could see. “Coffee?”

He could see she looked tempted.

“There are cups in the bar—creamer and sugar, too. Normally, the coffee’s back there, along with donuts and bagels, but I had a pretty full morning trying to line up a sitter. We can swing by Shipley’s Donuts or the bagel place—”

“Coffee’s fine,” she cut him off, taking the thermos. “In the future, don’t stock donuts or bagels. I prefer power drinks. Daniel can give you a supply. But for now, as I said, I don’t want to be late.”

“You won’t be,” he replied, determined to make it downtown in record time if he had to drive over the rooftops of the cars in his way.

“So you said. But we had a late start.”

God, she was a thorny woman. It was no wonder she was over thirty and single. He pitied the man who decided to get close to her.

Finn glanced into the rearview mirror and saw that she was deep into her work already. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t surface often enough from her briefcase to be a bother.

He might be old-fashioned, but he thought a woman should get at least equal joy from her home and family. He suspected the ice princess would be appalled at such a thought.

Still, he tried again to talk with her. “So, another big meeting this morning?”

“Ummm,” she replied, obviously not paying any attention to him.

“Will this one last as long as yesterday’s?”

“Ummm,” she repeated.

“Same old thing?” he asked patiently, already knowing her answer.

“Ummm,” she said, as though on automatic pilot.

“Just another boring day dancing naked on conference room tables, eh?”

“Ummm.”

He waited patiently for a few moments.

“What did you say?” she asked suspiciously, finally looking up from her work.

“I asked if this meeting might run long like yesterday’s.”

“Oh. I don’t know. It shouldn’t, but few creative meetings can be accurately predicted.”

“Everyone thinks their brainchild is best,” Finn surmised.

Katelyn glanced up in surprise. She hadn’t thought the man capable of such perceptiveness. “Precisely. And it’s difficult for the client to remember they’re paying us to be creative.”

“Probably because it’s hard for them to accept that their ideas aren’t any good,” Finn guessed. “Or to remember that’s why they need you. If they were creative geniuses they’d have their own ad agency, instead of hiring one.”

“Right again.” Katelyn frowned. She didn’t want to believe the man was intelligent—it went against her picture of him. Purposely she turned her attention back to her notes. This campaign was a killer. She didn’t need any distractions—like wondering if hunky limo drivers had brains.

Finn tried to stifle a yawn. Between the kids keeping him up late and then having to get up early, he was dead tired. Looking ahead into the traffic, he realized the line of cars in front of him had come to a dead stop. He hit the brakes hard and heard a distinct thud. Since he’d managed to avoid hitting the car in front of him and the car behind had stopped a safe distance away, it hadn’t come from outside. Which left his passenger.

Craning his neck around, Finn looked in the back but didn’t see her. Doubting she’d bailed out, he stared straight down—into Katelyn’s furious face. Crumpled into a heap, she was wedged on the floor between the seat and the bar.

“Where did you learn to drive? Beirut?” Katelyn asked as she pulled herself up and onto the seat.

“Didn’t you have your seat belt on?”

“Are you suggesting that your erratic driving is somehow my fault? Because my seat belt wasn’t fastened?”

“Of course not. But you should have it on.” Finn held up a hand to stave off her protests. “For your own safety. Sorry about the quick stop. I’m a little tired this morning. Guess my reflexes aren’t up to par.”

“Mr. Malloy, my firm hired you to drive. I suggest you get your reflexes back on line.” She palmed the goose egg forming on her forehead. “Or I’ll be forced to find another firm.”

Finn swallowed his automatic response and his jaw ticked with the effort to keep it still. Not trusting himself to speak, he clamped his lips tightly together as he shoved a tape into the player.

The truth was, he needed this contract desperately. This morning was a glaring example. As a single father, Finn relied on the flexibility of having his own business. He also needed a steady contract that would guarantee to cover the limo payment, insurance and costs. And most of those contracts went to the bigger firms. It was a miracle that he’d gotten the call from Ellington. He couldn’t blow the job because the ice princess was a pain. He supposed her orderly life didn’t have any messy complications. Certainly nothing as unpredictable as children.

As promised, Finn delivered her to the Republic Bank Building ahead of schedule—a full ten minutes early. But even though he pointedly glanced at his watch as she exited the car, she didn’t comment.

“Did Daniel give you today’s schedule?” she asked instead.

“He faxed it to me.”

“Then you know I have a steady stream of meetings all day.”

“Yes.”

“Fine. It’ll be a full day, then.”

“So it seems,” he replied, managing a reasonably charming smile.

She looked at him, searching for sarcastic undertones, then decided to let it go. Gripping her briefcase, she headed inside the building for meeting number one.

Finn watched her walk away, thinking she was true to form. He wasn’t any more significant to her than the dozens of strangers crowding the sidewalk. In fact, if the limo could operate on automatic pilot he doubted she would miss his presence.

Clamping on his hat, he set the alarm on his watch for two hours from now, then climbed inside the car. If he was going to do battle with the ice princess, he had to get some z’s.

STEFANIE LANGSTON paused in front of Daniel’s desk, perching her slim, elegant body on the one empty corner, languidly swinging her impressive legs. Daniel smiled in appreciation as he rapidly concluded his phone call.

“This must be my lucky day,” Daniel told her as he hung up the phone, his eyes resting on her beautiful face.

She smiled, raising her brows ever so slightly. “Of course, dear boy.”

Then they both grinned, accustomed to this banter.

“She in?” Stefanie asked, referring to Katelyn.

“Yep. And your timing’s exceptional. She should be off this conference call any minute now.”

Stefanie nodded, then her expression grew thoughtful. “That’s good.”

Daniel picked up on her changing mood. “Something wrong?”

Again she nodded. “You remember that talk we had a while back? About how Katelyn’s been all work and no play?”

Daniel nodded cautiously. Although he and Stefanie had an easy, friendly rapport, he didn’t want to confide his plan to her.

“Well, I think it’s getting worse. I asked her the other day if she’d met anyone interesting and she told me she’d stopped looking.” She met Daniel’s eyes. “And that can’t be good. In fact, I can’t remember the last time Katelyn was excited about someone she was dating.”

“True,” he agreed. “And she’s not acting much like herself anymore.”

“I read you, Daniel. She’s edgy, impatient, and I think she’s forgotten how to laugh.” Stefanie narrowed her eyes knowingly. “But I don’t have to tell you. She can’t be a lot of fun to work for these days.”

That much Daniel was willing to admit. “You’re right. I’m worried about her.”

“Me, too.” Stefanie pulled her perfectly arched brows together. “Frankly, I think she needs to meet someone new, someone she can’t dismiss. Someone who could turn into a significant other.”

Daniel looked at her in surprise. “You’re advocating marriage?”

“Okay, so I’m no Betty Crocker, but Katelyn’s not like me. I grew up with all the traditional trappings and I know it’s there if I choose that road—” She grinned wickedly in self-derision “—or not. But Katelyn thinks she’s not cut out for the serious stuff, and I disagree. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be reexamining her decision to remain married only to her career.”

Daniel hadn’t counted on an ally in Stefanie. “So you think she might need a push in the right direction?”

Her eyes lit up. “Precisely.” She adopted her best mock alluring expression. “I knew I liked you, Daniel.”

“It’s mutual. And who better to nudge her in the right direction than us?”

Stefanie grinned. “Exactly. We can be discreet, thoughtful…” she paused with a wicked grin. “And pushy.”

Katelyn’s office door swung open. “Hey, Stef. What’re you doing here?”

“I thought I’d kidnap you for lunch.”

Katelyn automatically glanced at her watch. “I wish I could, but I don’t have time for lunch today.”

“Maybe dinner then?”

Katelyn shook her head. “I’m booked tonight, too.”

“Hot date?”

Katelyn laughed cryptically. “Date? What’s that? Nope, this is strictly business.” As she spoke, Katelyn reached for the stack of messages on Daniel’s desk.

As she did, Stefanie exchanged a look with Daniel.

“Okay, I sense a brush-off when I hear it,” Stefanie replied.

“It’s not that, Stef, really. You know you’re my dearest friend and I’d love to spend an evening with you. Let me grab my planner and we’ll set up something. Maybe next week?”

“Sure.”

“Actually, I have about five minutes before the next meeting. Come into my office. There’s just enough time for a cup of coffee.”

Stefanie trailed behind Katelyn, turning slightly before entering the office. She caught Daniel’s gaze, cementing their alliance.

KATELYN RELAXED in the dark interior of the car, relieved that the last meeting of the day was finally over. The nagging heartburn that had been erupting since her five-o’clock meeting was now a full-fledged fire in her stomach. Digging in her purse for an antacid, she fervently wished for a cigarette. At that moment, her fingers came across the Walkman Daniel had given her.

Maybe the tape could really work. Lord knew she needed to drop this irksome habit. It was getting to be easier to sneak a marching band into most places than a cigarette. Even the car her firm paid for was off-limits. It was beyond annoying. Not to mention the fact that she had so far failed to control this one aspect of her life.

With that thought she put the headphones on. As with any subliminal tape, she really didn’t understand it, but she was so tired. And the beginning just seemed to drone on about the benefits of listening to subliminal tapes. Still, she found herself relaxing, her head nodding as she leaned back in the seat. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a minute…

“The freeway’s closed, we’re going to have to take Memorial Drive,” Finn told her.

When she didn’t reply, he sat in silence for a few moments. But silence had never been his strong suit. “That okay with you, Ms. Amhurst?”

Still no reply.

“Hey. You alive back there?”

Stopping at a red light, he craned his head back and saw that she was fast asleep. Even in sleep, she was an enigma. Although signs of weariness creased her face, she was also incredibly alluring. Asleep, she possessed a quality not visible while awake—a touch of vulnerability. Finn wondered if it was a trick of lighting or his own imagination.

But then her lips formed a quiet sigh. Inexplicably, the sound moved him. It shouldn’t. Katelyn Amhurst was a rigid power freak. Still, the fleeting glimpse made him pause. How much of that was genuine? Was there another Katelyn beneath the corporate killer?

The car behind him honked. Pulling back from the thought, Finn accelerated. The movement caused the papers resting on the front seat to fall to the floor. He had picked them up from the back seat, intending to sort them. Katelyn had emptied her briefcase between meetings. He guessed some of the papers might be ones Katelyn needed, but they were mixed with bits of trash.

Stopping at the next light, he reached for the papers, his hand closing over a small piece of cardboard. He started to drop it on the seat when he noticed that it was the inner paper from a cassette tape. He scanned it quickly: “Embrace Your Femininity.” Startled, he glanced back at Katelyn. No wonder she looked a tad vulnerable. But that was no doubt temporary. As the light changed, he slipped the label into the glove compartment.

A few minutes later, as they arrived at her condo, Finn made enough noise to ensure that Katelyn woke up. When he opened her door, she looked groggy but together, even remembering to remove the headphones.

As she dropped the Walkman into her purse, Finn cleared his throat, wondering about the tape label he had just seen. “So, what are you listening to?”

“It’s supposed to help me stop smoking.”

Right. Finn cleared his throat, stemming his reaction. “And is it working?”

“This is the first time I’ve listened to it.”

That explains a lot. “Guess you have to listen to it over and over for it to really work.”

“I suppose so.”

“No better time than when you’re in the car.”

She struggled to contain a yawn. “Uh-huh. Seven-thirty tomorrow morning.” She eyed him balefully. “Not seven thirty-five.”

He saluted, not completely squelching his grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

Katelyn hefted her briefcase as she slung her purse strap over her shoulder, then turned toward her lobby door.

Finn watched her for a moment. “Good night.”

“’Night,” she muttered around a yawn.