A Mum For Amy

“Can you get me about a quart of tap water?” Maggie asked, handing the girl a small bucket. She pointed toward the back of the house. “The kitchen is through that door.”

Lisa nodded and disappeared down the long hallway. Maggie, whose right arm was immersed up to her shoulder in the aquarium, kept mounding rocks in one corner, intent on making a natural hiding place for some of the smaller fish. An inquisitive brown-striped kuhli loach came up to investigate one of her fingers, and Maggie noticed that a tiny portion of its caudal fin was missing.

“Poor little guy,” Maggie crooned to the fish. “Are those big boys beating up on you?”

The fish didn’t let her stroke it—by nature the breed was too shy for that—but she thought it was actually listening to her. It was a funny little creature, one of her favorites in spite of the fact that it looked more like a worm. Long ago, she’d become convinced that some fish really did have distinct personalities, that they could connect with their owners. They weren’t just pretty pieces of living art as Huckabee seemed to think. They needed love and attention. Just like people.

She was glad Lisa had come with her on this call. From some of the things the girl had said, Maggie suspected that she might need an older female in her life. She wasn’t a child anymore. She was a teenager discovering so many new things about her body, feeling her way through the baffling intricacies of womanhood. Maybe tonight, Maggie thought, she should spend a few minutes trying to explain that to Will.

But right now, where was Lisa with that water? Frowning, Maggie slipped her hand out of the tank and dried her arm with a towel. The girl should have been back by now.

She hoped Lisa wasn’t pestering the housekeeper. And had Maggie told Lisa that she mustn’t ever venture farther into a client’s home? The room holding the aquarium, the kitchen or bathroom were fine, but everything else was off-limits. She couldn’t afford any accidents in one of these homes.

Maggie hurried to the kitchen. The room was techno-shiny with stainless steel equipment, but empty.

“Lisa,” Maggie called in a half whisper.

No one answered, and a premonition of trouble flared at the edge of Maggie’s mind. If the girl had been foolish enough to explore, Maggie would make her sit in the car once she found her. And definitely no beach. Even if Lisa hadn’t been told the rules, she ought to know better….

Maggie left the kitchen and went into the formal dining room. Nothing. She walked into the next room, obviously Huckabee’s domain since it was dominated by a huge home theater setup and enormous workout equipment that made the space look like a torture chamber from some medieval castle.

The room led off to the back deck and pool, and Maggie caught movement there. It was Lisa, all right. Standing beside a patio table, chatting with a barefoot man in a white terry-cloth robe who had his back to Maggie. She recognized him as Huckabee—no mistaking that slick blond haircut—and the girl had obviously disturbed him during his sunbathing. He had his hands on his hips, and Maggie wondered if he was annoyed. She knew she was. God, she was going to kill Lisa for bothering a customer—even a jerk like Huckabee.

She made a move toward the French doors, not understanding why in that moment goose bumps rose along her arms. Halfway there, Maggie stopped. She realized suddenly that Lisa wasn’t talking at all, she was listening. And the look on her face was so wary, so anxious, that Maggie immediately knew something was wrong.

And in the next moment Maggie discovered what it was. While she watched, stunned, Huckabee slipped the knot from his robe and pulled apart the edges to expose himself to Lisa.

The air left Maggie’s lungs in a rush as a wave of nausea rippled at the back of her throat. Even as she strode toward the door, galvanized by an anger so deep and strong that she could hardly see the handle for the red haze in front of her eyes, she knew that everything was about to change. Everything.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

Not in her world.

Not in Lisa’s.

CHAPTER TWO

Eight years later

MAGGIE WAS on her computer, creating a six-hundred-gallon wave tank on her AutoCad program, when Zack Davidson strode into her small office. He must have come directly from his workshop behind the building, because a paper face mask still dangled from the string around his neck and bits of sawdust clung to his brown hair like a sprinkling of snow.

He was a tall, good-looking man with impressive biceps from years of carpentry work. He’d been Maggie’s partner in Sapphire Seas Designs for four years, and right now, he didn’t look happy.

“I just got off the phone with Lou Myers,” he said. “Did you tell him he could have cherry instead of oak cabinets?”

“I did,” Maggie replied absently. She used her mouse to erase an errant line from her computer design. “He wants the cabinets to match the waiting room furniture he bought yesterday.”

“Damn it, Mags,” Zack said as he shook a tiny shaving out from underneath the collar of his shirt. “Why didn’t you tell him it was too late to change his mind? You know I’ve already cut the wood.”

Maggie tilted back in her chair. She smiled up at Zack, though she couldn’t really see his features because the Key West afternoon sunlight coming through the window cast his face in shadows. “I know. But remember customer service?”

“We won’t have any customers to service if you drive us out of business by wasting inventory. What am I supposed to do now with a bunch of oak cut for cabinets we haven’t sold?”

“Zack, do you know what Lou Myers does for a living?”

“Dentist?”

She shook her head at him in playful disgust. They’d been friends since high school, even when he was making moon eyes at her sister, Alaina, and getting the brush-off. After he’d moved down here to Key West, she hadn’t seen much of him, but eight years ago, when she’d had no place else to go, he’d been there for her. She owed him a debt of gratitude she could never repay, but he drove her crazy sometimes.

“This is why you’re still back in the workshop, you know.” She saved her design in the computer, then shut it down. “Because you won’t take an interest in the customer side of the business.”

He came to her desk, letting his weight settle against the edge so that one jean-clad leg could dangle as he crossed his arms and stared at her. “I’m back in the workshop because I like to build things. What’s your point, partner?”

“Lou isn’t just any dentist. He’s head of the Pediatric Orthodontia Society of America. That means he talks to thousands of kiddie dentists all over the country. The guy’s excited about the Atlantis theme we’re building for his front office. Really excited.”

“So?”

Maggie sighed heavily. “So once he has pictures of the finished product, he’s going to be showing them off at every convention he goes to.” She tapped her monitor for emphasis. “And he goes to a lot, according to the research I did on him. Some of his colleagues may want aquariums for their own offices. And I want Lou referring them to Sapphire Seas. He’ll do that if we go this extra mile for him.” She offered her friend a consoling look. “Cut the cherry, Zack. We can always save the oak for another project.”

Zack remained thoughtful for a long moment. Then he cocked his head at her. “Do you ever stop hustling for business?”

“No, and neither should you. Not if we’re going to put Sapphire Seas on the map this year.”

“Do you know who you sound like?”

“Who?”

“Your sister.”

That surprised her a little. Alaina’s name rarely came up between them. Partly because Maggie so seldom saw her family anymore, even though they were only hours away in Miami Beach. But mostly she avoided talking about Alaina for Zack’s sake. Her sister had broken his heart years ago, and he could pretend all he wanted, but Maggie knew he was still in love with her. He just wasn’t willing to do anything about it. Of course, Alaina was married, so maybe that was just as well.

Maggie shuffled the latest stack of bills on her desk. “Good,” she said in a deliberate tone. “It’s taken me twenty-seven years to turn into Alaina. Too bad Mom and Dad aren’t here to see it. Like they’d ever bother to come down for a visit.”

“Like you’d ever invite them.” Zack snorted. “Hell, no. You’re not bitter.”

He was right, and Maggie knew it. The fiasco of eight years ago was like a scar that wouldn’t fade. Just to be civil, she kept in contact with her parents. But it wasn’t much of a relationship, and none of them tried very hard to change it.

She stopped fiddling and stared up at him. “I’m trying to grow this business. To stick with the game plan. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Zack said with a shrug. “If it’s the right game plan. If it doesn’t keep you from enjoying yourself.”

Lately Zack had been giving her grief about her social life—or the fact that she didn’t have much of one. But after what had happened in Miami so long ago, after she’d had to depend on someone else’s kindness just to keep from ending up on the streets, Maggie had learned that there were a lot of different ways life could beat the crap out of you. What was wrong with being…cautious?

“I am enjoying myself,” she shot back. “Now stop pestering me. I’ve got work to do.”

“I liked you better when you were Alaina’s wild and crazy kid sister. You were a lot more fun.”

“Wild and crazy and fun doesn’t put food on your table or money in the bank. It only gets you into trouble.”

She suddenly realized she sounded like her father. Wow. Maybe you really could mature.

“You need to lighten up, Mags. You’ve been pushing hard for months now—”

Before she could cut him off, the phone did the job for her. She looked at Zack to see which one of them was going to answer it.

“Let it go to the machine,” Zack said.

She shook her head at him again as she snatched up the receiver. Really, sometimes Zack was the least motivated businessman she’d ever met. “Sapphire Seas Designs. This is Maggie Tillman.”

It was Teddy LaCrosse’s office up in Miami—a call she’d been holding her breath for. An entrepreneur with the attitude of Jimmy Buffett and more money than Midas, Teddy had loved the aquarium designs she’d pitched for his new South Beach project. He’d even come down to check out their studio and workshop. Maggie was ninety-five percent certain Sapphire Seas would get the job. The bid had been fair, and her designs innovative.

She crossed her fingers and raised them to Zack, mouthing who was on the line. It wasn’t LaCrosse, but his assistant, Susan. Close enough, Maggie figured. As long as the answer was yes.

They exchanged pleasantries, then Susan said, “Miss Tillman, Mr. LaCrosse asked me to call. He’d like to schedule a time when the two of you could talk. It’s about the designs you submitted for the South Beach property….”

Maggie felt her heart drop. Right then and there, she knew the answer was going to be no. She had a gut instinct about this sort of thing. Maybe because she’d been hearing the word an awful lot lately. She couldn’t control her disappointment and shock. “Oh, hell,” she said. “He went with someone else, didn’t he? I can tell by your voice.”

“Miss Tillman, I’m not at liberty to discuss this matter with you. I’m only—”

“Just tell me, Susan. I know the kind of assistant you are. There isn’t a thing that goes on in Teddy LaCrosse’s office that you don’t know about. Who did he go with? Was it Coastal Communities?”

“I’m sorry. I really can’t give you that information. Please…”

“Okay, you’re right,” Maggie said in a quick, conciliatory tone. “I’m sorry I put you on the spot. It’s just that getting this job is very important to me.”

Maggie spent the next few minutes being professional and polite with the woman—when all she really wanted to do was yell or throw something. She’d spent weeks coming up with those designs. She’d furnished LaCrosse with enough testimonials from happy clients to choke a horse. She’d practically had to take out a bank loan in order to wine and dine him properly. She’d done everything to get this job except sleep with the man, and she’d be lying if she said the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. And now, she knew it. It was all going to be for nothing.

“Then it’s set,” Susan said. “Mr. LaCrosse will be in touch with you tomorrow at two.”

Maggie shook her head at Zack, indicating failure. “There’s no way I can speak to him today?” This minute, she wanted to add.

“I’m afraid not. Right now, he’s holding a press conference regarding his plans for the resort.”

By the time Maggie tossed the telephone receiver back in its cradle, she could hardly contain her disappointment. She cupped her face in her hands and swore softly.

“You don’t know it’s a bust,” Zack said.

“In all the years we’ve been doing this, have I ever been wrong about whether or not we got a job?”

“No.”

“I can read between the lines. I got lots of practice when I lived with my folks, trying to guess when and where the next argument was going to come from.”

Zack stood, settling his tool belt on his hips. “So we don’t get the contract. We’ve been shut out before.”

“This was big, Zack. We could have bought the new oven. We could have stopped subcontracting to that toad Jefferson.”

The commercial-sized oven they needed to heat acrylic so they could seal joint seams properly was a particularly sore spot for Maggie. Although the equipment was horribly expensive, no aquarium design firm worth its salt relied on outside help for that sort of thing.

But ever since their ancient, secondhand oven had bitten the dust a year ago, Sapphire Seas had been contracting out the work. To a squinty-eyed jerk up in Marathon who thought that every bit of oven time he sold Maggie ought to come with a free overnight stay in her bed. So far she’d been holding him off, but purchasing an oven of their own would have stopped that nonsense forever.

Oh, well. Goodbye to that dream. For now.

She flung a disgusted glance around the office. “Why didn’t I try to clean this place up before Teddy came down here? Everything looks so shabby. The remodeling needs remodeling, for pity’s sake.”

“Mags, stop.”

Maggie rubbed her fingers along her jaw. “Who do you think he went with? Coastal’s the only outfit in the state that could handle a job that big.” She sat up straighter suddenly. “Wait a minute! Susan said he was holding a press conference today. You know what that means?”

“Media coverage.”

Maggie nodded. “Whatever decisions have been made could be on the Miami paper’s Web site by tonight.”

Zack headed back to his workshop and Maggie spent the rest of the day watching the clock. By six that evening she could check the Internet. LaCrosse’s press conference probably wouldn’t divulge who’d gotten the green light for the resort aquariums—too small a job in the grand scheme of things—but Maggie was hoping for something, anything that might tell her what to expect from Teddy’s conversation with her tomorrow.

By the time she closed the office, the first streaks of a pink and purple sunset were sifting over the palms that lined the short driveway to Sapphire Seas. Back at her desk, she paged through the top news stories of the day on her computer. It took very little time to find what she was looking for, and when she did, Maggie’s mouth parted in surprise. Then absolute, flat-out shock. She settled back in her chair, staring at the screen and feeling nothing but…numb.

Zack came into the office. “Find out anything, Sherlock?”

Maggie jerked her chin toward the monitor. “Take a look.”

There was a good-sized picture of Teddy LaCrosse smiling out at them from behind a podium. Although he was backed by a wall of three-piece-suit types, he wore a Hawaiian shirt and his hair clearly hadn’t been trimmed since the last time Maggie had seen him.

Zack quickly scanned the article below the picture, then looked at Maggie. “It doesn’t say anything about specific contractors. Nothing to indicate we lost out.”

“We’re not getting the job, Zack.”

“How do you know that?”

Maggie ran a finger gingerly across the screen, then let her fingertip rest on one of the men standing behind and to the left of Teddy. Oh God, she still couldn’t believe it.

Zack frowned. “Who’s the bean counter?”

Maggie hardly heard him. She couldn’t take her eyes off the man’s face. Could barely allow her finger to make contact with the image, as though it might burn her right through the glass. “He’s not a bean counter,” she said. “He’s Teddy LaCrosse’s chief architect. From Jacobson and Duquette Associates. His name is Will Stewart.”

“Will Stewart,” Zack repeated thoughtfully. “Why do I know that name? Will—” He shot a quick glance her way. “Your Will Stewart? The guy who—”

“One and the same.”

Zack blew air through his lips. “Oh, damn. You think he advised LaCrosse to go with another company because you two—”

“I think advised might be too polite a word. You know architects work closely with all the contractors. If he found out I was behind the Sapphire Seas bid, I’ll bet he threw a fit at the thought of coming within a hundred miles of me.”

“Are you going to ask LaCrosse when you talk to him tomorrow?”

Maggie moved suddenly, snapping off the computer. She rose, pulled her purse out of the bottom drawer of the desk and grabbed her car keys. “Nope. I’m going to find out right now. Tonight.”

IN THE END, Maggie didn’t make the four-hour drive up to Miami that evening. Even if she’d known where to find Teddy LaCrosse, tracking him down, forcing him into a midnight conversation, would look unprofessional and probably wouldn’t win her any points. She’d spent years trying to get a handle on her impulsive nature. No sense letting her emotions get the best of her now.

But early the next morning, as she drove up the long stretch of US-1 that connected the mainland to the Keys, it wasn’t how to win over Teddy that ate at her nerves.

It was the thought of Will Stewart.

All Maggie could think about was how her gut had kicked to see his face again.

Eight years seemed like a long time, and yet she could recall every detail of that bright spring afternoon as though it had happened yesterday. Huckabee’s arrest. Lisa, white-faced and trembling as they sat together at the police station. Someone handing Maggie a cup of coffee that spilled and burned her fingers because she, too, was shaking so badly.

Most of all, she remembered Will striding into the detective’s office, rigid with anger and fear. He had pulled his sister into a hug so tight that Maggie imagined she could hear bones creak. She felt as if she were in a dream, the kind where a person can only watch, not move or speak. She saw Will enfold Lisa, saw his head bending. It almost made her weep to witness the exquisite tenderness with which his fingers traced her face as he crooned comfort to her.

“What the hell happened?” he had demanded at last, and even his voice was white-hot.

Oh, those words. In the pit of Maggie’s stomach, something twisted even tighter. He hadn’t addressed the detective. He swung to face her, fixing her with a stare that would have scattered some men like petals on the wind. Right then, in that moment, she knew it was over between them. She felt as though some support in the pit of her stomach had been abruptly ripped away.

It took a little while, of course. There were charges to be filed and court appearances to make. It could have been worse, she supposed. Huckabee turned out to be a repeat offender. His attorney tried to persuade him to throw himself on the mercy of the court. Instead, thinking money could fix almost anything, the fool made the mistake of attempting to bribe the judge. He found himself in jail in record time.

Lisa weathered all of it surprisingly well, thank God. After three sessions with a child psychologist who pronounced her very resilient, she seemed none the worse for what had happened.

But for Will and Maggie…there was no hope.

It was clear that Will held her responsible for everything. He didn’t say it. At least, not at first. But their time together took on a new unnatural formality, a masquerade performance for Lisa’s benefit. Words between them marched and maneuvered like tense soldiers. When Maggie tried to find a way to make it right again, she was met only with Will’s cast-iron composure, so that eventually, she, too, was forced to take refuge in blank-faced complacency.

And then one night a month after the incident, everything just erupted. They opened a door between them that was impossible to shut. The argument was quick, hot and horrible. They stepped on each other’s sentences without waiting for responses. Will’s dark, fenced-in manner gave way to harsh accusations, until Maggie felt bludgeoned and desperate and the healthy instincts of self-defense rose up in her.

But his anger was fully unleashed at last, and he would hear no explanations, no excuses. They were like stars separated by unimaginable distances and would never see eye to eye. Her impulsive, immature behavior had put Lisa in danger. Maggie was the adult. She should not have given in to his sister that day, knowing how he felt.

In the end, every nugget of hope was extracted from their relationship, and there was nothing left to do but finish it. Nothing in her life had been easier than loving Will, and nothing about leaving him could have been harder. They traded one last, searing look. Operating on numb disbelief and adrenaline, Maggie walked out of Will’s house and did not glance back.

She went home, weighed down with a misery she could barely comprehend. Deep inside where it counted, she felt withered and betrayed. Grief made her unapproachable for days. She stayed in her room over the objections of her parents, who begged her to come out. She cried a flood of tears, got angry and resentful all over again, then wept into her pillow for hours. It had been unbearable to be nineteen and heartbroken, and when Maggie finally did emerge, she had thought she would never be the same again.

She was right.

A week after that final argument, she learned she was pregnant with Will’s child.

The green interstate sign announcing her approach to Miami brought Maggie back to the present. Just as well. She didn’t need to think about the mess her life had been eight years ago. She needed to stay focused on getting the LaCrosse contract. There had to be some new way to persuade Teddy to go with Sapphire Seas.

Since the South Beach project was en route to Teddy’s office, Maggie stopped there first. She saw his sleek, red Lamborghini with the vanity plates parked just outside the main construction trailer and pulled to a halt nearby. Drawing a decisive deep breath, she reapplied lipstick, swept the wrinkles as best she could from her mauve skirt and tucked her bid file under one arm.

The site hummed with activity. The LaCrosse Restoration Project—a massive resort, condo, shopping and dining complex—spanned an entire city block and seemed to be moving ahead quickly. Months ago, the land had been cleared and concrete poured. The hotel section, nearly complete, towered impressively, and Maggie glimpsed the guts of the lobby shaping up beneath it. Now, if only Sapphire Seas could be part of the excitement.

Maggie entered the trailer. Because of the strong morning light, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Then she spotted Teddy, lounging in a high-backed office chair behind a desk laden with blueprints, tools and a storm of paperwork that probably kept some construction boss up late at night.

He raised his head, looking surprised to see her. “Maggie,” he said in his usual affable way. “What an unexpected pleasure! What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

A person could make the mistake of underestimating Teddy’s laid-back, aging surfer-boy demeanor, but Maggie knew that LaCrosse was a tough negotiator and nobody’s fool. She reached across the desk to firmly shake his hand. “Good to see you again, Teddy.”