Matthew's Children

Yes. She had only to recall the two failed relationships in her past for her answer.

“You’re avoiding eye contact.” Matthew sounded amused.

She lifted her head, glad he couldn’t possibly be aware of what she’d been fantasizing about. She tried to keep meeting his gaze, but eventually, she had to blink. The blue of his eyes was such a piercing shade. “You should be a judge. You would be impossible to lie to.”

“Is that what you’re planning to do?”

She smiled. “No. But admit it. Being alone like this. It must seem as strange to you as it does to me.”

All amusement drained from his expression. “I don’t want it to feel that way, Jane. I want us to be able to work together. To be friends.”

She swallowed. It didn’t sound like much. Yet it was. “It’s difficult not to remember the last time we were…”

Matt’s expression turned grim. He finished her sentence for her. “The last time we were alone in a public place together?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry about that, Jane. I can’t tell you how sorry.”

His regret was deeply sincere, and it only made her respect him more. The scene hadn’t been his fault. It hadn’t been either of their faults. On the afternoon of their fateful lunch together, they’d been discussing business, a case that was before the court, when Gillian Gray had found them.

Jane could still picture the surprise on Matthew’s face. The gallant way he had immediately stood, reaching for a third chair so his wife could join them.

In those first seconds he hadn’t noticed Gillian’s fury. But Jane had. Because it had been directed at her.

“What are you doing with my husband?”

Nothing, Jane had been about to say. But before she could utter a word, Gillian Gray had grabbed a goblet from the table and hurled the white wine it contained into Jane’s face.

She would never forget the shock. The intense humiliation.

“Madam.” A server had been at her elbow almost immediately, leading her to the women’s washroom.

Behind her, she’d heard Matthew speaking to his wife. “Are you crazy?”

Not the right words to appease. Gillian had raged at him; she’d really let him have it. At the door to the ladies’ room, Jane had paused, unable to stop listening until Gillian—finally out of foul words and insane accusations—turned on her heel and marched out of the restaurant.

From across the room Jane had met Matthew’s gaze. She’d seen the abject apology in his eyes before he’d raced after his wife.

All of that would have been terrible enough. But Eve Brandstrom and two other lawyers from the firm had witnessed the entire debacle. Jane still didn’t believe Eve had said anything to anyone else.

But the other lawyers hadn’t been so discreet, and soon the story was circulating Brandstrom and Norton. Jane couldn’t go anywhere without being confronted with the speculation and curiosity in her coworkers’ eyes.

She had reacted by keeping her mouth shut and avoiding Matthew as much as possible. Since he’d done the same, it wasn’t difficult.

Now she couldn’t believe she was across the table from him again. She still wasn’t sure this was wise. He might be an unmarried man legally, but he would never be “available” where she was concerned.

“I should have apologized at the time,” Matthew said. “But I was afraid it would only feed the gossip at the office if anyone saw me talking to you.”

“I understand. I imagine you had enough to handle at home.” Jane had heard about Gillian’s subsequent obsessive calls to the office. If she couldn’t reach her husband, she would yell at the poor receptionist. A few weeks later, word got out that Matthew had spent the night sleeping in his office, on the couch.

Soon after came the announcement that Matthew and Gillian Gray had separated.

A year later, the divorce became final.

And now that the marriage was at last over, Jane had to know the answer to the one question that had puzzled her for so long. “Why did Gillian think we were having an affair?”

Surely, in this day and age, his wife had expected some of Matthew’s colleagues to be female. Why assume the worst?

Was it possible that Gillian’s feminine intuition had sensed Jane’s attraction—an attraction Jane had worked so hard to stifle—and had reacted instinctively against it?

“By that point in our marriage, Gillian was on the lookout for things to fight about. She noticed your name on my BlackBerry a few times, heard us talking on the phone, and it raised her suspicions.”

“But why?”

“Things hadn’t been going well between us for years. Opposites may attract, Jane, but they shouldn’t always get married. Especially not when they want different things from life.”

“You and Gillian were opposites?”

“In many ways. She was a drama major when I met her, and I found that exotic at the time. But after a while her incredibly emotional nature became draining.”

“I know what you mean by emotional.”

“Gillian could turn almost anything into an argument. That, too, was draining. Gradually I began staying later and later at work. After Derrick was born and Gillian opted to be at home full-time our problem became worse. Without the creative release of her career Gillian grew more restless and unhappy.”

“Did you consider hiring a nanny?”

“I’d just talked Gillian into that when she unexpectedly became pregnant with Violet.”

An old pain surfaced, but Jane refused to focus on it. This wasn’t about her. “How about you? Did you want a second child?”

“Secretly, I was thrilled, but I couldn’t admit it to Gillian or she would have accused me of getting her pregnant on purpose—which wasn’t the case. At any rate, when Violet was born, Gillian loved her as much as she loved Derrick, of course. She just transferred all her anger and resentment to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “The fights got worse. I began avoiding home even more, which only made Gillian angrier.”

A sad story, especially when Jane considered the children and how confused they must have felt. Still, she was reassured to hear that the Grays’ marital problems went back so far. It relieved some of her guilt. Not all. But some.

“Gillian resented my long hours at work. At the same time, she pressured me for money for home renovations and a family vacation in Europe. I guess I took the easy way out, opting to spend more hours at the office rather than deal with her moods at home. I figured once I had my promotion to partnership life would get easier.”

“But it didn’t.”

He shook his head. “As you know, they only pile on more cases once you make partner.”

“That’s true. But you can set boundaries,” she added gently. She’d never heard of Matthew turning down a case or refusing to work on a weekend.

“Gillian had legitimate complaints,” Matthew acknowledged.

“Did you guys consider counseling?”

“I was willing. She wasn’t.”

Jane grimaced.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the kids.” He skated his glass over the slick surface of the table.

He kept a photograph of his son and daughter on his desk. Jane had noticed it this morning as she’d passed by his office on her way to the supply room, which she no longer avoided.

“How are Derrick and Violet doing now?”

“Violet’s fine. She’s young and the new situation hasn’t upset her routine very much, since she always sleeps in her own room. But Derrick’s pretty angry.”

“At you?”

“Yeah. He definitely views me as the culprit. He rolls his eyes every time I mention anything to do with work. I’m struggling to achieve a better balance in my life, but sometimes my efforts seem futile. Especially when my son makes it obvious he’d rather be with his mother.”

“Matt…” It wasn’t like him to be so negative.

“Sorry. We’ve been talking about this too long.” He leaned over the table. “What’s new with you?”

She hadn’t expected the conversation to turn so quickly. “I joined a health club,” she offered weakly.

“So you said. Anything else? Are you dating anyone?”

The question was thrown in as if meant very casually, but to Jane Matt’s eyes burned as he waited for her response.

“Not right now.” She met a lot of men in her line of work, so there were always opportunities for dating. None of the men she’d gone out with this year had held her interest, though. They all fell short compared with Matt.

The truth was there had never been a man who affected her the way Matthew did. Not even her first love, in university; or the man she’d almost married five years ago. Even now she felt like a nervous teenager on a date rather than a competent professional sharing a drink with a colleague.

“We haven’t discussed the case yet,” she realized.

“We aren’t here to discuss the case.”

“We aren’t?”

“No, Jane, I hope—”

He stopped talking when his BlackBerry buzzed loudly.

“I thought I’d switched this off,” he muttered as he reached for the thing.

Jane assumed that was what he was about to do now, but a glance at the number changed his mind.

“It’s my son,” he said, rising from his seat as he spoke. “I have to talk to him. Can you give me a minute?”

“Sure.” Her lips felt stiff, but she forced a smile, averting her gaze rather than watching him walk away from the table.

She couldn’t help but think back to that other time over a year ago. This interruption was far less dramatic, but it was an equally effective reminder that where Matthew Gray was concerned, she had to guard her emotions very carefully.

MATTHEW WOULD HAVE interrupted his conversation with Jane for only two people in the world. Since Violet was too young to use the phone, that left Derrick.

“Hey, son. What’s up?” He strode through the pub and out the door. Lingering by the stairs, he plugged his free ear to block the traffic noise.

“I’m calling about the game on Friday.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Pardon?”

“We still don’t have a coach.”

So none of the other parents had volunteered. As the silence stretched out between his son and him, Matthew tried to think of some way he could volunteer himself. But to commit to practices, as well as games, was more than he could manage.

Surely saying no was better than promising something he couldn’t deliver.

“I wish I could help you out, son. But—”

“Yeah. You have to work. I get it.”

He sounded so jaded. Matthew felt both defensive and guilty. “It costs a lot of money to send you to Mountain View Academy. And to buy you and your sister all the latest—”

“I said I got it, Dad. You probably don’t know enough about soccer to coach it, anyway.”

That was true, which only made him more frustrated. “I’m sure I could learn.”

“What’s the point? You’re too busy, remember?”

Matthew inhaled deeply. Reminded himself he was the adult here. “I’m sure you must be disappointed, but the soccer association will find you a new coach soon. Hopefully, one who actually understands the strategy behind the game.”

“Yeah. Right.” Clearly, Derrick wasn’t holding out any hopes.

Matthew longed to say something that would make his son feel better. But there was no quick fix to this situation. Not for any of them.

“I’ll phone the president of the soccer association and see what their plan is.”

“Don’t bother.” Derrick hung up, as miserable as he’d been at the beginning of the call.

Matthew was left with the knowledge that he’d disappointed his son yet again. He sighed, then pocketed the BlackBerry, this time making certain to turn it off first.

He met Jane on her way out and could barely contain his disappointment. “I thought we might have a second drink.”

“One was enough for me. And don’t worry. I covered the bill.”

Her gaze barely skimmed his face before she glanced away. Why was it so darn hard to get her to look him square in the eyes these days?

And he hated that she’d paid for their drinks.

He fell into step beside her as she headed back to the office. “This was supposed to be my treat. You know what that means?”

She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“I pick up the tab next time.”

“Next time?”

“Damn right next time.” He let himself touch her elbow as they crossed the street. It was all he could do to let go of her once they reached the other side.

“Jane.” He stopped her before she entered the revolving door that led to the lobby of their building.

“Yes, Matt?”

Ever since his phone call she’d been so cool and distant. He wished he could make up the ground that had been lost.

“I’m glad we had this talk.”

Her expression softened. “Me, too.”

“And we will do it again. Right?”

She hesitated. “Maybe.”

And then she quickened her pace and disappeared into the building. He watched and wondered what she would have said if he’d told her the truth.

That Gillian thought they’d been having an affair because during one of their arguments he’d admitted that although he wasn’t having an affair with Jane, he was more than halfway to being in love with her.

Chapter Five

ON WEDNESDAY EVENINGS from seven to ten, Gillian taught drama at night school and Matthew went over to her house to take care of the kids. When he and Gillian had split up, Violet had been only two. Much too young, Gillian said, to be away from her mother at night. So while Derrick could spend every second weekend with his father, Matthew was able to see his daughter only on day visits.

The trouble with that was that he never could be the one who helped her with her pj’s, who tucked her in and sang her lullabies. Now she was almost too old for that, which only made the routine all the more precious to him.

Last summer, when Gillian had told him about the teaching opportunity, he’d jumped at the chance to look after the kids on that night. Now, every Wednesday, Matthew was able to be a part of his children’s everyday life. Exactly what he wanted—and missed—the most.

On this Wednesday, Matthew read three of Violet’s favorite books to her, then made her a snack of sliced apples and cheese.

Derrick was out with his friends. According to the note Gillian had left on the kitchen table, he was supposed to be home by eight to do homework. Matthew checked his watch. It was ten to now. He glanced out the front window.

Hurry home, Derrick. He was eager to see his son and discuss the soccer coach situation. He’d been talking his dilemma over with one of the young lawyers on staff, who was also a father with kids who played soccer. Tim had suggested he work out a team coaching arrangement with one of the other parents. That way, if work interfered with a particular game or practice, he’d have some backup.

Matthew wanted to ask his son what he thought about the idea. If Derrick seemed keen—hell, if he seemed mildly supportive—Matthew planned to start working his way through the team phone list to find a coaching partner.

“I’m s’posed to brush my teeth now.” Violet had finished her snack and was gazing up at him with her huge blue eyes.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bathroom.

“I can walk, Daddy. I’m a big girl.” She slithered from his arms and scampered ahead of him. Once there, he helped her to squeeze a tiny bit of paste on her princess toothbrush.

She set to work, brushing vigorously, while with her free hand she held on to his shirt as if to prevent him from going anywhere. He wished she didn’t have to worry, that she would know she could count on him being here whenever she needed him.

During those first months in his own apartment, after he’d moved out of the house he’d shared with his family for thirteen years, the hardest times had been coming home from the office. Every night he would open the door to silence. Only, in his mind, he would hear the sound of running footsteps and little voices calling out, “Daddy! Daddy’s home!”

Derrick had been beyond that stage by the time of the breakup, but not Violet. Matthew remembered setting down his briefcase so he could scoop her into his arms, and the giggles when he placed her on his shoulders and galloped around the dining-room table.

Gillian had claimed he was a workaholic, but there had been happy times, too. He wished that instead of letting his work drive a wedge between Gillian and him, she could have helped him understand how much he was missing.

But blaming Gillian for his obsession wasn’t fair. His father’s untimely death wasn’t responsible for his compulsive work ethic, either. According to his mother, he’d always been an A-type personality.

When he had a job to do, he felt like he was in a tunnel. He couldn’t focus on anything but the deadline in front of him.

His brother Gavin couldn’t understand. But then Gavin was one of those guys born to be a dad. Even though he, too, had a demanding job, as an architect, he’d had no trouble fitting in lots of time with his twin girls.

And Gavin’s life hadn’t been a picnic. First the mother of his girls had deserted them. Then, when the twins were in first grade, one had been killed in an accident on the street.

For the sake of the daughter he still had, Gavin had relocated his small family to New Hampshire, where he was now happily remarried.

Whenever Matthew was in a pinch with his kids, he always asked himself what Gavin would do. Now, as he settled Violet into her bed precisely at eight o’clock and Derrick still hadn’t shown up, he found himself once again wishing for his brother’s wisdom.

Violet had always been a sound sleeper, and her eyes were closed by the time he had her covered. “Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek, then left her room with the door ajar.

The view out the front window was disappointing. No sign of Derrick. He called his son’s cell phone—last year’s Christmas gift—only to be put through to messages.

“It’s after eight, Derrick. You should be home by now. Please call as soon as you get this.”

Matthew riffled through the newspaper, but he couldn’t concentrate. An ad for watches caught his eye. Wasn’t that the same brand Jane wore? He felt a rush of pure sexual desire as he pictured the gold band slipping up and down her slim, elegant wrist.

He imagined pressing a kiss to her wrist, then trailing his mouth along the length of her arm until he reached the delicate skin of her neck. Would she moan? Sigh? How did Jane react when she was aroused?

He stopped the fantasy before it could go further. He had no right thinking of her this way. No right to wish for anything more than the possibility that they could be colleagues again. Friends.

He located the remote control for the television and cruised through the channels, finding nothing that could hold his interest. Resisting the urge to phone Jane, he started to pace.

The door to Gillian’s bedroom was open, and as he walked by, he noticed a pair of men’s shoes on the floor.

He paused. It was none of his business. He knew Gillian had been dating. But was the guy also spending the night?

For Matthew not to go into the bedroom to look around took a lot of willpower. He was especially curious about the master bathroom. Would there be an extra toothbrush in the holder? A razor and some shaving gel?

He didn’t begrudge Gillian a sex life. But what impact would it have on the kids when their mother’s boyfriend showed up at the breakfast table? Violet was too young to think much about it, but Derrick would understand what was going on.

The last thing Matt wanted was to start a fight with Gillian. But he would ask her about this, he decided. Surely he had some rights as a father.

His concern about Gillian’s boyfriend faded, though, as another fifteen minutes went by and Derrick still wasn’t home.

There were some numbers by the phone, and he recognized the names of two of the boys on Derrick’s soccer team. He called both of them, but neither of the mothers who answered had seen Derrick this evening.

Hell. Now what?

Matthew was considering phoning Gavin, or even Nick, whose connections on the police force might be useful right about now, when finally the back door opened.

“Derrick.” Thank God.

His son kicked out of his runners, then headed for the fridge without saying a word, or even glancing in his direction.

Don’t jump to conclusions, Matthew counseled himself. It was what he imagined Gavin’s advice would be if he were here. Keeping his tone calm and reasonable, Matt pointed out to his son, “You were supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago. Did something happen?”

“I missed the bus.” Derrick poured himself a tall glass of juice.

“You missed the bus,” he repeated. Did Derrick know how lame that sounded? Or perhaps that was the point. “Maybe you should have showed up at the bus stop five minutes earlier.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Matthew couldn’t help it. His anger rose. “At the very least, you could have phoned.” He checked the impulse to say that he’d been worried, that he’d even been thinking about contacting the police.

“The batteries in my phone were dead.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Derrick’s eyes met his and they were so full of defiance that Matthew knew he was lying. As if to prove it, his son’s cell phone let out a burst of music, signaling an incoming call.

The chime repeated four times. Derrick ignored it. He was still staring at Matthew as if daring him to do something. Options ran through Matthew’s head, most of them out of the question. He didn’t want his first words to be spoken in anger. He struggled for calm.

One. Two. Three.

“You were supposed to be home by eight, Derrick, and you weren’t. You don’t have a good reason, so there will be consequences.”

Derrick smirked.

Again Matthew had to rein in his temper. “You’re grounded for the rest of the week—and that includes no cell phone.” He held out his hand until his son passed it over. “Plus you won’t see any friends this weekend.”

His words hit their mark. The pressure on his chest eased as uncertainty flickered in Derrick’s eyes.

But a moment later, the arrogance was back. “Fine. Ground me. Mom won’t stop me from going out.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Matthew was so disappointed he was practically choking on it. He’d been thinking about the conversation he wanted to have with his son all evening, and none of this had been part of the script.

He cleared his throat. Tried to make a fresh start. “Now, about your soccer situation—”

“If you’re talking about the coach, don’t worry about it. Like you said, the soccer association found us a new one.”

Damn. Could nothing go right for him and Derrick tonight? “Good,” he said weakly. “I guess this means the game on Friday is a go.”

“I guess.” Taking the glass of juice with him, Derrick disappeared into his bedroom.

Matthew groaned with frustration, then picked up the newspaper one more time. He’d read through the business section and sports by the time Gillian arrived home.

She entered through the back door, too, and set down a bag stuffed with what looked like a batch of test papers. She’d taught drama between acting gigs before they were married, but she’d never really loved the work. It was something she did for the extra cash and to get out of the house.

She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes alighting on the plate he’d used for Violet’s snack.

Feeling as if she’d caught him out, Matthew grabbed the plate and stacked it in the dishwasher. “How was class?”

“Not bad. I’ve got a decent group this semester. Some of them even have talent.” She bent over to move Derrick’s sneakers out of the way. “Did Derrick finish his homework?”

Matthew felt his shoulders tense. “I’m not sure, but I doubt it. He wasn’t home until almost nine. He’s been in his room with the door closed since then.”