The Mommy Makeover

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.

He grinned despite her lukewarm reply. Whistling, he started up the car and turned onto the still busy street. He had thought this job was going to be a real pain. Suddenly, it looked very interesting.

Chapter Three

“Dammit, Malloy. You’re late again.”

“Six minutes, Ms. Amhurst. And I was caught in traffic.”

“I thought you knew your way around the traffic.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. “There was a major accident, life-flight was involved. Short of hiring my own helicopter, I was stumped.”

“People blame everything on the city’s traffic,” she groused.

“You’ll have to admit it’s a definite factor living in Houston.”

“The only thing I have to admit is that I have a meeting I must be on time to.” She reached for one of her power drinks. “Malloy, the difference between a successful person and one who wishes he were, is the successful person would hire the helicopter.”

Finn pursed his lips, considered a variety of answers and settled for the most benign one he could manage. “I’ll have to remember that.”

She quirked her eyebrows and he noticed that today her eyes were greenish—reflecting the color of her tailored suit. He’d never met anyone before whose eyes changed color so dramatically. They could reflect her clothing, her background, or even the moods of the sky.

He drove rapidly toward the downtown skyline, determined to make sure she wasn’t late for her meeting. And he arrived with five minutes to spare. Once again she didn’t comment on the accomplishment.

Instead she handed him a sheet of paper. “Here are some changes in today’s schedule. And the Woodruff meeting is vital. If I don’t make that one, heads will roll, including mine…” Katelyn paused, making certain she had his attention. “And yours.”

He accepted the sheet and scanned the location of the Woodruff meeting, nearly groaning. It was going to be held in one of the new buildings that had popped up in the Intercontinental Airport area.

One of the unique aspects of Houston was the number of mini-downtown areas that had cropped up all over the huge expanse of the city, each with their own skyline and unique set of problems. This one’s problem was location. While a thriving, growing area, it was inescapably situated near the city’s northern airport—a traffic nightmare at best, an unnavigable stretch of car-covered concrete at worst.

Two major freeways headed toward this particular airport and both of them could clog in an instant, and stay clogged for hours. Especially at the time Katelyn’s meeting was scheduled—three o’clock. At that hour it would be a nightmare to drive toward the airport. The roads would be filled with a mass of commuters and airport-bound travelers.

If there was a snag they could be stuck in a gridlock for hours. Since it was a major portion of his job to monitor the traffic and make sure his limo didn’t get caught in any of those snags, he knew exactly whose head would really roll if they didn’t make the meeting.

When Finn delivered her to the lunch meeting, Katelyn reminded him again about the importance of the Woodruff meeting. “I’ll be through at two. That should give us an hour to get there. Enough time?”

“If the freeway gods are on our side,” he replied, fervently hoping they would be.

Finn opted for a sandwich in the car as he listened to his traffic-band radio. The first hour passed safely enough. He called one of his connections at a local radio station and got the latest scoop from the eye-in-the-sky helicopter report. Both freeways, northbound I-45 and I-59, were traveling at normal speeds.

“Kyle, this one’s important,” Finn told his friend. “If there’s a change, can you call me on the cell in time to form an alternate plan?”

“Man, other than taking to the airways, there’s not an alternate if anything happens to both freeways.”

Finn tried to relax. “But what are the chances of something happening on both freeways?”

“This is Houston, man. They could both get wiped out in a torrential flood. Terrorists could blow them up. A tornado could hit ’em both or—”

“Don’t cheer me up, Kyle. Just call if something happens.”

Finn hung up, wishing the bad feeling in his gut would go away. He upped the volume on his radio and listened. Five minutes later his feeling became reality. An ammonia tanker had overturned on I-45 and they were closing the entire freeway. As he listened, details spilled from the radio with sickening accuracy. The lethal gas had the potential to kill anyone in the area and even the surrounding neighborhoods were being evacuated.

Finn found himself crossing his fingers as he thought about the remaining freeway. Then he remembered his own words to Kyle. What were the chances of both freeways being closed?

At that moment his cell phone rang. Misgiving filled him as he answered. Kyle’s words completed the scenario. A petroleum tanker that had been routed off I-45 took a steep curve on I-59 and overturned. Because of the possible flammability, combined with the chemical mix of the ammonia spill, that freeway had been closed as well. And, Kyle confirmed, every arterial and side street was jammed to the hilt.

“Only two strikes, man, but I guess you’re still out,” Kyle sympathized.

Katelyn’s words replayed themselves in Finn’s thoughts. The successful person would hire the helicopter.

“Not quite, Kyle. I’ve got three strikes, remember.”

“And two freeways.”

“You’ve got connections with the helicopter companies, haven’t you?”

“Yeah. We use ’em for backup when our copter’s down.”

“Can you get me one in less than an hour?”

“That’s a tall order. With the freeway blocked, they’ll be swamped.”

“That’s why I need your connections, Kyle.”

Finn heard a long sigh. “You got it. I’ll call you back in ten.”

The phone clicked off and Finn hoped his friend could deliver.

The next ten minutes crawled by. When the phone rang, he grabbed it. Kyle didn’t keep him in suspense. “We got it.”

Finn breathed a sigh of relief, not doubting for a moment that Ms. Amhurst would indeed fire him if they failed to make the meeting. Too much was riding on this contract to let that happen. He took down the directions Kyle gave him and floored the car. He didn’t have long to reach the heliport and return.

LESS THAN AN HOUR later, Finn and the pilot from Armadillo Airlines touched down at the helipad atop the building Katelyn’s lunch meeting had been held in. The helicopter’s dispatcher had reached Katelyn at the meeting and told her to meet them on the helipad atop the building.

Finn spotted Katelyn before they landed, her distinctive hair shining in the sunlight, her tailored suit plastered against her body by the powerful draft of the copter blades.

She strode up to the helicopter as Finn climbed out. “Malloy, what the hell is this all about?”

Instead of answering, Finn lifted her into the helicopter, ignoring her protests. By the time he explained the entire situation, she would be late to her appointment and he valued his head. “You’ve got a meeting to make. And this is the only way you’re going to get there. Both the freeways are closed and the side streets aren’t moving. The successful person knows it when she sees a good thing.”

For once Katelyn didn’t seem to have a rapier-sharp retort.

Finn climbed in beside her and buckled in. Katelyn had a strange look on her face, but she was quiet as the pilot took off. It didn’t take long to cross the city. Beneath them, stacks of unmoving cars littered the freeways and jammed the roads as far as they could see.

If Finn hadn’t been convinced before that the helicopter was the only way to reach their destination, he was now. The pilot landed efficiently on the helipad atop the Woodruff Building and Finn climbed out. He waited for Katelyn to follow, but she didn’t move. Climbing back inside, he saw that she was still in her seat, her hands gripping the armrests.

The pilot glanced at her sympathetically. “Not everybody likes traveling by whirlybird.”

Finn hadn’t noticed before, but she was as white as parchment. And her hands were nearly bloodless as she gripped the armrests. “Ms. Amhurst.”

Nothing.

“Ms. Amhurst, we’re at the Woodruff Building.”

Silence.

“Katelyn?” He angled his face so that his eyes met hers. Now they were a dark blue-gray. And they were terrified.

“Katelyn, it’s okay. We’re on the ground.” He glanced back behind him. Actually they were on top of a thirty-story building and the rooftop wasn’t as generous as he would have liked.

She looked at him blankly.

Finn carefully pried her fingers from the armrest, then gently pulled her forward in the seat. “Katelyn, we’re going to step outside. You’ll be on level ground.”

She didn’t resist as he lifted her down and out of the helicopter. The pilot waited patiently as they slowly cleared the area. As they reached the door leading inside the building, Katelyn slumped. Finn grasped her elbow and led her through it.

The cool rush of the air-conditioning was a welcome relief and seemed to reach her as his voice hadn’t. Still, he led her to a bench near the window.

She hid her shaking hands beneath her briefcase. “I guess I should have mentioned that I’m not real comfortable riding in small aircraft—and I suppose now that includes helicopters.”

Not comfortable. That was one way to put it. Scared senseless was another. “Why don’t we see if they have some vending machines and get a cup of coffee?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, her face still pale.

“Well, I’m not. I’d like a cup of coffee. That was a pretty hair-raising ride.”

She glanced at her watch. “We are fifteen minutes early.”

Seeing that she looked relatively steady, Finn stood and punched the elevator button.

When it arrived, Katelyn joined him. As the doors slid closed, she looked at him. “It seems you’re a quick study, Malloy.”

“You did say the successful person would hire the helicopter.”

“I didn’t know you’d take that literally,” she muttered.

“Changing your stand on what defines the successful person?”

“No.” Katelyn admitted as she shuttered her expression. “And I won’t underestimate you again.”

His sudden smile took her by surprise. Impossibly white teeth, eyes as blue as the ocean depths, the rugged features…Combined, they were enough to take her breath away. Telling herself it was her fright from the helicopter ride that had robbed her breath, she shored up a returning smile.

“That looks real good on you,” he said, his eyes not leaving hers.

Flustered, she brushed at an invisible bit of lint on her sleeve. “What does?”

“The smile. Looks like it belongs there.”

Remarkably, she felt her cheeks warming. She felt embarrassed and glanced away. “You’ve seen me smile before.”

His lips twitched. “Oh?”

For a moment she was tempted to huffily freeze. Then the humor of the situation struck her. “It really is absurd, isn’t it? It was my brilliant idea to hire a helicopter.”

He nodded, his smile growing bigger. “I have to agree with you. Frankly, I would never have thought of hiring a helicopter on my own.”

Sheepishly she grinned. “When I put my foot in it, I do it big-time.”

His expression gentled. “Maybe that’s why you’re such a success.”

Uncharacteristically, she glanced down, pretending to study her shoes. “Is that how you see me?”

“You’re smart, talented and doing what you want. Isn’t that success?”

Katelyn lifted her gaze. “Lately I’ve been wondering about that. I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t cut out for marriage and kids but now…”

“Now?” Finn prompted.

She shrugged. “I’ve wondered if maybe I’m missing out by not having children. Sounds silly, doesn’t it?”

But he didn’t look amused. “I don’t think so. My kids are everything to me. As hard as it is being a single parent, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I know I’m no corporate whiz, but my life’s richer than if I had Trump’s fortune.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” she questioned, boggled by the concept, moved by his sincerity.

“With everything that’s in me. Children are our dreams, our future.”

The biological clock she’d fervently tried to ignore chimed insistently. “But we can fashion a different sort of future.”

“What kind of future would that be?” Finn asked. “Do you really care who takes your job when you retire? Is that the legacy you want to leave the world? Frankly, I doubt that anyone on their deathbed wishes they had spent more time at work.”

The words chilled her, but Katelyn recognized their truth. “Are you saying what I’ve done will mean nothing if I don’t have children?”

“Of course not. I am saying that love and family are enduring.”

“Perhaps not everyone is cut out to be a parent,” she said quietly, revealing one of her hidden fears.

“That’s true enough,” he admitted. “But if your intentions are good, love will get you over the rough spots.”

She considered this. “But what if you have no idea what kind of parent you’ll be?”

“If you’ve given it that much thought,” he replied softly. “I’d say you have the makings of a good mother.”

Unexpectedly, she felt warmed by his words. He probably didn’t know the Dow Jones from the S & P, but he had a wisdom all his own. And she liked the kindness she saw in his eyes. Over the years that quality had lessened in importance. It occurred to her that might have been unwise.

She realized Finn could be right. Success had many definitions. And she wasn’t entirely certain hers was the right one.

FINN LOOKED at the fallout on the front lawn of his house and groaned. A tricycle was perched in the shrubbery and an open umbrella was suspended in the crepe myrtle tree. A pot of begonias was tipped over, dirt and flowers spilling across the porch. The twins must have been especially inventive today. One three-year old was a handful. Two of them far exceeded a simple doubling of the equation. Together, Eric and Erin could climb, grab, push, and pull down most anything they chose. Worse though, two small minds invented some incredible feats. And from the evidence on the lawn, it looked like they had come up with a corker.

It was terribly quiet. He wondered if this latest exploit had pushed Mrs. Phillips over the edge. She was an older woman whose patience and energy were diminishing rapidly as she cared for three young, active children. But she had been blessedly dependable. And the steady stream of sitters that had preceded her had all flaked out in one fashion or other.

Mentally crossing his fingers, Finn pulled open the front door. It was equally quiet inside. Uneasily, he glanced around, not seeing Mrs. Phillips or the children. He called out, but no one answered.

Worried, he walked rapidly to the patio door and slid it open. But what he saw made him want to slam the door shut.

Mrs. Phillips was covered in white foam and the twins were both orange, from head to toe, as was their dog, Snuffles. Finn could smell paint thinner and soap. And he could see water rushing from the hose, drenching Jenny.

He walked closer. “Mrs. Phillips?”

She turned, her face darkening to an ugly red beneath the odd foam. “It’s about time you got here,” she snarled.

Oh, this was bad. Very bad. “What happened?”

Mrs. Phillips turned an accusing glare on the twins. “Those two…two…they painted each other and the dog with your industrial day-glow safety paint!”

“She said we could paint!” Erin defended, looking strangely like a glowing alien.

“With your paints!” Mrs. Phillips screeched. “With normal children’s watercolors. Who in the world would have thought they could climb up to the paint in the garage?”

“What is that goop all over you?” he asked, knowing there wasn’t a satisfactory answer to her question.

Balefully, Mrs. Phillips stared at Jenny. “This one decided to spray me with the fire extinguisher.”

“She said the house was on fire!” Jenny protested.

“I said you kids could get in trouble as fast as a house afire. And that’s when she turned on the water hose as well.” Mrs. Phillips gestured downward at her soaked shoes. The leather was obviously ruined. “As though I hadn’t already had enough water for today. The twins filled the bathtub without telling me and it ran over, flooding the bathroom. Your upstairs carpet will never be the same, not to mention my sanity!”

Finn swallowed his amusement. If the poor woman didn’t look so aggrieved, he would have pointed out the inherent humor in the situation. But, clearly, she wouldn’t be in the mood to hear it. He doubted he would be either if he had been covered in foam and water. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Phillips. I know this has been a bad day—”

“Bad day? Mr. Malloy a bad day was two weeks ago when the twins filled my tote bag with shampoo, after emptying it from the bottle. Or last week when they poured the cake batter in the toaster. Or even two days ago when they poured sugar on the couch and filled the aquarium with ketchup.”

“It made the water red!” Eric offered.

Mrs. Phillips glared at him.

“Of course I’ll replace your shoes and tote bag, Mrs. Phillips. And I’ll try not to be late again.”

“Doesn’t matter if you are,” she stated.

“It doesn’t?” he asked uneasily.

“Nope. Because I quit. I would have left hours ago, but I’m not the kind of person to abandon young children.” She took a deep, exasperated breath. “Even ones like this.”

Finn glanced between the sitter and his children, who didn’t look particularly remorseful. “Surely we could work something out. The kids like you and I’m sure they weren’t deliberately trying to provoke you.”

“If this wasn’t deliberate, I’d hate to be on the receiving end when they are. Nope, I felt sorry for you, being a widower and all, but enough’s enough. What these kids need is a mother. Someone who can keep them in line.”

Glumly, Finn resigned himself to the inevitable. They had lost yet another sitter, which meant he would have to scramble to find one for the next day. “If you’ll give the total of the damages to the agency, I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed.”

She swiped at the foam still coating her clothes, then tossed down the rag she had been using to try and clean the paint from the twins. “Mr. Malloy, you haven’t got that much money!” Stalking toward the house, she punctuated her exit with the squishing creaks of her waterlogged shoes.

He flinched when she slammed the patio door hard enough to rattle the glass. Then he turned his gaze on his children. A trio of angelic expressions greeted him. So Mrs. Phillips thought they needed a mother. That was hardly a surprise. It was a logical conclusion. But it wasn’t the kind of decision based on logic.

“Daddy, Miz Pipps was mad!” Jenny told him, reaching her arms toward him.

Disregarding her soggy state, he picked her up. “You guys have to take it easy on the sitters. I’m running out of willing ones.”

“You could just stay home with us,” Jenny concluded with childlike reasoning.

He pushed the wet hair from her eyes. “I wish it were that easy, sweetie.”

“Up!” Erin demanded, holding up paint-covered arms. Next to her, Snuffles wagged his orange tail, flicking the paint on Finn’s pants.

He sighed as he picked her up, knowing his clothing was already ruined. “Okay, my little alien.”

“We’re hungry,” Jenny added.

“Didn’t you have dinner?” Finn asked in dismay.

Jenny shook her head. “I don’t think Miz Pipps likes us anymore.”

That was an understatement. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll order a pizza. I wonder if they’ll deliver turpentine with it.”

“Turptine,” Eric repeated several times, enjoying the new word.

And a new baby-sitter, Finn added silently. He would have to find one by morning. Coupled with cleaning up the twins, that would mean another late night. Yet he couldn’t be late for Ms. Amhurst. Feeling like a wishbone being pulled apart, Finn wondered again how he was going to make it all work.

KATELYN RECHECKED her makeup in the hand mirror, then fiddled with the bow of her chiffon blouse. It had been an impulse buy the previous day. The frothy confection in the store’s window had caught her attention and, uncharacteristically, she’d popped inside and bought the blouse without even trying it on. Its soft lines weren’t her usual style, but something about the very feminine item appealed to her. Along with the flowered broomstick skirt she’d also purchased. All sorts of different things seemed to appeal to her lately. It probably had something to do with quitting smoking, she decided.

The delighted saleswoman had given her a generous sample of a floral scent she insisted suited her as well. And somehow that morning it had. Katelyn rechecked her hair, having left it long and loose in soft waves. Her briefcase rested on the limo seat, still unopened, but she couldn’t bring herself to dive in as usual. It was such a delightful day—in fact she’d been humming all morning.

The limo turned into the circular drive of the Allen Center buildings and she sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been tempted to play hooky. And now she could think of little else. But discipline had been ingrained since she was a child. She exited the car, fussing a bit with her unaccustomed skirt.

“You look real nice this morning,” Finn commented.

Katelyn couldn’t stop the soft smile that bloomed across her face. “Um…thank you.”

It was part of the subtle metamorphosis she seemed to be undergoing. She smiled more often, although she tried to quash the reaction.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“That’ll be all. My meeting should be done by eleven.”

HE WATCHED as, instead of striding briskly inside, Katelyn strolled slowly, stopping to admire a cart of cut flowers and speak with the vendor, purchasing a single daisy.

She turned, the light striking her face. For a moment Finn saw her strictly as a woman. For some inexplicable reason he was drawn to her in a way he hadn’t felt since his wife’s death. It wasn’t just chemistry. Sure, Katelyn Amhurst was a knockout. But he’d known other beautiful women. And he didn’t even know what it was about Katelyn. Her strength, combined with a scant touch of vulnerability, was compelling.

As he watched, the president of Katelyn’s firm fell into step beside her. Now, that man was in her league. Finn felt his own jaw tighten. It wouldn’t be wise to forget that Katelyn was in a league totally her own. One to which he didn’t stand a chance of gaining admittance.

FROWNING, Daniel flipped through his planner. He had allowed two weeks to pass since giving Katelyn the first tape. He had seen minor changes in her. But at the slow rate of progress she was making, Katelyn would be too old to have children by the time she wanted them.

The door to his office opened. “Hi, Daniel.” Mary, the brunette from accounting, was becoming more than just someone to date. Their relationship had evolved into an exclusive one.

He smiled, momentarily distracted. “I thought you were swamped with budget forecasts.”

She shrugged prettily. “I couldn’t concentrate on them. Had my mind on our date last night.” She glanced at his open planner. “Busy?”

“Not exactly.” Needing a woman’s viewpoint, Daniel had told Mary about the tape. Initially it had raised her feminine hackles until he had explained his reasoning. “I’m thinking about the plan with Katelyn—it’s taking a lot longer than I anticipated.”