A Whole New Man

He was hesitant to ask the next question, but he had to know the answer. “I understand, but what about her father? Couldn’t he take her, considering our schedule?”

She was silent for a moment. “She doesn’t have a father,” she said in a voice so soft he nearly missed it.

Hank let her remark sink in before asking the next obvious question. “Does that mean you don’t have a husband lurking in the shadows, ready to clobber me if I step out of line?”

“No, no husband.”

Her direct gaze spoke volumes. She was a single woman. A single mother. Even though his memories of his own mother had faded with time, he had an idea of what it took to be a mother. Time. Lots of time. And money. He suspected that wasn’t something Lizzie had an abundance of, in spite of appearances.

“You said you have family here in Kansas City,” he said, steering the conversation in a different direction.

Startled, she turned to look at him. “Why, yes. There’s my mother, my sister and brother.”

“Older or younger?”

She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “My sister is six years older, married, with two children. My brother is attending college.”

“Sounds like a nice family.”

“It is,” she answered with a soft, loving smile that struck his heart. But her smile vanished. “I—I wasn’t the easiest daughter to raise.”

He saw pain clearly reflected in her eyes and heard the sorrow in her voice. It was another view of her that caused him to wonder why. “It happens to a lot of people,” was all he could say.

They rode a few blocks, both lost in their own thoughts, and an idea began to form in Hank’s mind. He really didn’t want to spend an entire evening alone in his hotel room, and he wasn’t in the mood to sightsee. “Where are you and your daughter having dinner? Maybe you could both teach me which fork to use.”

Lizzie’s laughter was so soft, he barely caught it. “The last time I checked with Emily Post, pizza is eaten with the fingers.”

“Pizza? Hey, I love pizza! But some people do eat it with a knife and fork.”

Eyes narrowing, she cocked her head to one side and looked at him. “Are you by any chance hinting at an invitation?”

He knew he should be ashamed or even a little embarrassed. He wasn’t. “So can I come along?”

Her laughter rang out clear and loud in the padded and plush interior of the limousine. “I doubt you’d want to spend an evening eating pizza with a four-year-old. There are times she would try the patience of a saint, even though she’s usually an angel.”

He didn’t doubt that for a minute, not with Lizzie for a mother. And he didn’t know why he felt this need to join them, other than not wanting to spend the evening alone, staring at a television screen in his hotel room. He had often spent evenings watching TV in his trailer. It wasn’t something as simple as nervous energy, either. He’d spent that in the gym. No, it had to be curiosity. What kind of woman really existed beyond what the eye saw? What was her story? He had heard all kinds, so nothing would surprise him. And what kind of mother was she? He hadn’t expected this added twist. And although it ought to put him off, it made everything even more intriguing.

“Kids don’t bother me,” he said with a shrug. It was true, because he didn’t really know kids. He’d never wanted to be a family man, so he hadn’t been around them much. But he was willing to do it, for the sake of curiosity and to spend a little time with Lizzie.

“I don’t know…”

It was better than a refusal, and her hesitancy gave him the courage to push. “You can explain the sublease to me tonight and save some time tomorrow. I’ll even spring for the pizza.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Then we’ll go Dutch,” he pushed on.

“Well…”

“Good, it’s settled.” He turned and rapped on the tinted glass separating them from Bailey. When the glass came down, he gave the driver instructions. “Drop me off at my hotel, then take Miss Edwards to her home and wait. When she and her daughter are ready to leave, pick them up, and then come by the hotel for me.”

“Yessir.”

Before Hank could remind him that he wasn’t a “sir,” Bailey had raised the window again. Pleased that Lizzie hadn’t interrupted with excuses, Hank leaned back in his seat and studied her. He had to admit she didn’t look all that happy about being railroaded, but she didn’t look like she’d go off like a cannon, either. In fact, she looked more astounded than anything. Fine with him. Whatever it took. Even if it meant spending an evening with a four-year-old.

Chapter Three

“Are you my mommy’s cwient?” Amanda asked, her mouth surrounded by tomato sauce. Lizzie knew it wouldn’t do any good to try to clean her daughter’s face until the pizza was gone or her child had had enough to eat. In thirty seconds, the angelic mouth would bear another red ring.

Hank swallowed the bite he’d just taken and smiled at Amanda. “I sure am. Her friend, too, I hope.” Directing his gaze at Lizzie, his dimples deepened.

Lizzie tried to shield herself from reacting to his smile, but she hadn’t found a way yet. He had more charm than any man should. Unfortunately his charm tended to turn her knees to the consistency of pudding.

“Are you my fwiend, too?” Amanda asked.

And didn’t it figure that he was winning her daughter over with the same charm? If he could bottle it, he’d make a fortune.

“Only if that’s okay with you,” Hank answered with a note of sincerity Lizzie couldn’t help but believe.

She watched as he stuck out his hand and wondered if her daughter would remember what the gesture required. If she did, Hank was a brave man, considering the smear of grease, tomato sauce and cheese covering Amanda’s miniature hand.

Amanda hesitated for a moment, studying Hank’s offer, then placed her hand in his. “Sure. We can be fwiends.”

Hank didn’t even flinch at the gooey mess he encountered. Instead he gave Amanda one good shake, but didn’t let go. “You know, Amanda, you’re even prettier than your mommy. Smart, too, I’ll bet.”

“I know my affabet,” she said, her face serious.

“Really? Then you are smart. So what do you do for fun?”

Lizzie smothered the groan that threatened. Fun seemed to be Hank’s favorite pastime.

Her face scrunched in puzzlement, Amanda turned to Lizzie, then back to Hank. “Well…I visit my gwamma and sometimes I get to play wif Denny and Woger, but they’re boys, so they get mean.”

“Denny and Roger are my sister’s boys. Amanda stays with her when I have to work in the evening,” Lizzie explained. “They’re a little older and sometimes get carried away.”

Hank’s eyebrows knitted in what was obviously concern when he looked at Amanda. “Do they hurt you?”

She shook her head, sending her carroty curls dancing. “No, but they make me mad and I cwy sometimes.”

“Maybe I should teach you a few—”

“Hank,” Lizzie interrupted, placing her hand on his arm. The warmth that shot through her made her pause for a moment to catch her breath. Hoping he hadn’t noticed her reaction, she did her best to ignore it and continued. “Hank, believe me, Amanda takes care of herself. Sometimes they torment her a little, but they adore her.”

Instead of relieving his worry, his frown deepened. “They shouldn’t do that. Torment her, I mean. But it’s easy to see why they adore her.” His frown instantly turned to a smile when he looked at Amanda.

Lizzie felt her heart warm toward him, which was the last thing she wanted. Most men, when they met her daughter, talked to her from an adult level. But something about Hank and the way he related to Amanda was different. And a bit scary, considering how much she, herself, was attracted to him.

“You were an only child, right? She can hold her own,” Lizzie replied, knowing she could use a few pointers on how to protect herself from Hank’s charm.

“Can her mother?” he asked.

His gaze met hers and she nearly melted into a puddle. There was no way she could answer, and when she started to pull her hand away, he covered it with his, trapping her. It felt so comforting, she couldn’t do anything more than sit staring into his eyes.

“I need a nakkin,” Amanda announced.

It took a supreme effort for Lizzie to drag her gaze and her hand from Hank’s. “I’ll get some, sweetie,” she said in a shaky voice and rose from her chair.

“Mind if I have another piece of that pizza?” she heard Hank ask her daughter.

Lizzie missed Amanda’s answer as she retrieved several napkins from an empty booth. She was glad for the interruption. She’d expected her daughter to be a solid distraction from Hank’s charisma, but instead, Amanda seemed to draw out more of his charm. Lizzie chided herself for being glad he had joined them. She shouldn’t be. It wasn’t right, no matter how much his hand on hers had made it feel like it was. She had been through this once before and had vowed, while dealing with Amanda’s tears, never to repeat the mistake.

Hank is a client, she reminded herself. Probably not a man with much staying power, if his past was any indication. And it always was. If she’d learned one thing in her business, it was that she might be able to change a few things about people, but their general disposition and character remained static.

But maybe…No. Learning to pick the right clothes and knowing the correct thing to say in a given situation was one thing. But turning someone from a person who never settled in one place for long to a homebody wasn’t possible. She needed to remember that whenever Hank’s dimples scrambled her senses.

Feeling only a little better, Lizzie approached the table and heard Hank telling Amanda about the pony he had once owned when he was a boy.

Amanda’s elbows were propped on the table, her face cupped in her sticky hands, as she stared at him in awe. “Did he pwance like the ponies in the circus? I wuv them! They have pwetty feathers on their heads.”

“No, but he could run like the wind,” he answered.

The wistful look on his face nearly undid Lizzie, and she had to stop herself from reaching out to give him a comforting hug. What was she thinking? She needed to keep her distance, both physically and emotionally, from this man.

Instead of giving in to her urge, she approached her daughter. “Let’s get you cleaned up a little, then we’d better head home.”

“Alweady?” Amanda asked, clearly disappointed that her mother would bring an end to her enchanted evening.

Lizzie wiped her daughter’s hands and face as best she could, and Amanda didn’t protest. It was one thing Lizzie had always been proud of in her daughter. Amanda knew better than to argue when told it was time for the fun to be over. Denny and Roger weren’t always so easy.

As she worked to gather the mess, Hank left the table, headed in the direction of the cash register. “Where do you think you’re going?” Lizzie called out to him.

“Just taking care of the tab,” he answered over his shoulder without stopping.

She dropped the wad of napkins and hurried after him. “We agreed this would be Dutch treat.”

“I changed my mind,” he said with a shrug and kept walking.

Grabbing his arm in hopes of bringing him to a halt, a vision of him pumping iron at the gym popped into her mind, and she had to force herself to breathe. “You can’t.”

He slowed, but he didn’t stop. “No big deal.”

“It is to me.” When he came to a halt and turned to look at her, she let go of him and did her best to hold her ground. “I can’t let you go on paying for things, Hank. You haven’t even started your new job yet.”

“I invited myself along. I know that’s a little on the rude side, but I’m glad I did. You saved me from spending a boring night in my hotel room. Why not let me make it up to you by paying for the pizza? It isn’t like twenty bucks is going to bankrupt me.”

The reminder of where she would be if she lost Hank as a client struck home. Besides, she needed to watch her pennies, in spite of the hefty chunk he had already paid to Images, Inc. But to let him pay for their evening out was another thing.

Hank leaned close and whispered, “Next time it’s your treat, I promise.”

The sound of his deep voice skipped over every nerve in her body, even though she knew she shouldn’t let it happen. How many times in her life had men made her feel this wonderful? Only two that she could recall, and neither had affected her with the potency Hank did now. But one had led to trouble…and Amanda. The other had caused heartbreak for a two-year-old. She wouldn’t let it happen again. She couldn’t.

She took a step back, out of his range. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He tossed her another one of his winning smiles. While he was busy paying their bill, Lizzie went back to the table and finished cleaning the mess, both on the table and on her daughter.

“Is Hank coming home wif us, Mommy?”

Lizzie jerked her head up, rendered speechless by her daughter’s question, and stared at her. Amanda didn’t take to men. Not since Ken had broken her heart. And here she was, asking if Hank was coming home with them. Lizzie was in trouble.

“Hank is going back to his hotel room.”

“Is that where his family is?”

Lizzie swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “N-no. Hank doesn’t have any family, sweetie.”

“He doesn’t?” She tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Can we take him home wif us then?”

Sighing, Lizzie shook her head. “Amanda, you can’t bring home stray people like you do stray kitties,” she tried to explain. “But it’s very nice of you to think of him. He’ll be fine at the hotel tonight, and then I’ll take him to his new apartment tomorrow. Does that help?”

Amanda’s lower lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “I guess so,” she said in a sad whisper.

Lizzie gave her daughter a hug, her heart filled with pride at Amanda’s caring generosity, but she knew she needed to be cautious. “All ready?” she asked, when Hank returned.

“You bet.” He helped Amanda down from her seat and held her hand as they walked to the exit. With her other, she grabbed Lizzie’s hand. Just like a family. Lizzie shook the thought from her mind to focus on her daughter’s chatter about her cousins’ new rabbit, the neighbor’s new kittens, and how she would have a zoo when she was bigger. Hank’s attention was riveted on the child, and Lizzie wasn’t sure what to do about this new situation. When Amanda made someone a friend, it was forever. Hank would only be a client for a few weeks, and after that there would be no reason for Lizzie to see him again. She could accept that. But could Amanda say goodbye to him when the time came? And did Lizzie really want her to?

Hank watched Lizzie fit the key into the lock of the apartment he would be trying on for size. She had explained to him earlier that after the month was over, he would decide if he wanted to continue to live there under a sublease, or whether he would find another apartment. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter one bit where he lived, as long as he had a roof over his head and a bed to sleep in. He had spent most of his life in some sort of portable home, or at least a temporary one. None had been much to brag about. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a place as nice as his hotel room.