Underfoot

I had a baby six months ago. You’re the father.

I don’t expect anything from you.

I don’t want anything from you.

I don’t know why the contraception didn’t work. Perhaps because we were both plowed.

Why didn’t you tell me before? he would ask.

I just kinda never got around to it.

Trina rolled her eyes at herself. Lame, lame, lame. She glanced at her fingernails and wished she had time for a manicure. With Maddie-girl, she was always washing her hands after changing a diaper or before feeding or after cleaning carrots off Maddie’s face.

She was glad she’d worn black today. It made her feel less vulnerable. Exactly how was a woman supposed to dress when she told a man that she’d had his baby?

She swallowed over the bubble of panic in the back of her throat.

What could he do to her? she asked herself, trying to approach the situation rationally. He couldn’t accuse her of trying to trap him into marriage. He couldn’t accuse her of trapping him into being a real father to Maddie because she had resolved a long time ago to ask and expect nothing of him.

What if he didn’t believe her?

She clenched her jaw. That bothered her. That really bothered her.

It probably wouldn’t happen, she assured herself as she left the salon and ducked into a drugstore to pick up a compact, lipstick and mascara. She applied the cosmetics in her car, feeling as if she were putting on an extra layer of armor.

She possessed the edge here, she told herself as she walked into the bar. She had the knowledge and she had Maddie. That last thought warmed her like sunshine.

She glanced around the bar and didn’t see Walker. A cowardly sliver of relief ran through her. Oh, good, he was a no-show.

“You beat me by seconds,” a familiar male voice said from behind her.

She whispered a swear word, but managed to turn around with a smile. “I wondered if we might need to reschedule.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” He gestured toward a table across the room and waved at the bartender for service.

She felt his hand hover at her back and automatically quickened her pace.

He pulled out her chair for her. “Busy day?”

“The usual,” she said, taking her seat and thinking she didn’t remember him being so tall.

He sat across from her. She didn’t remember his shoulders being quite so wide. She did remember the intensity in his eyes, his mouth, and the way he had kissed her that night. Frustration had mixed with some kind of carnal wanting. She’d felt the same way, frustrated from the insane almost-wedding day and curious to find out how he would handle a woman. How he would handle her. He must have felt some curiosity, too. The first time had been fast, but there had been a second. And a third.

Trina felt a rush of heat. The sensation reminded her of how two glasses of wine affected her, the warmth that spread from her chest to her face and the way her heartbeat accelerated. It was the memory of wild sex, she told herself. It wasn’t specifically Walker.

A waiter approached their table. “I’ll take a beer. Whatever you have on tap,” Walker said and turned to her. “What do you like? Martini?” he asked and looked at her for a long moment. “No, it was something else,” he said, shaking his head with a wry grin. “Mojito.”

The fact that he’d remembered her drink gave her a thrill. A very stupid thrill, she told herself. “It’s different now. I’ve turned into a lightweight. Pinot Grigio,” she said to the waiter.

“Lightweight,” Walker echoed curiously. “When did that happen?”

“A while ago,” she said with a shrug and wished she had a glass so she could do something with her hands. Should she tell him before the waiter returned or after?

He nodded. “Okay. So what have you been doing for the last year and a half?”

Having a baby. Not quite right, she thought, looking away from his expectant gaze. “Working, moving. How was Paris?” she asked, turning the conversation away from her.

“Good.”

The waiter returned with their drinks and she fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “Hard to come back?”

“Yes and no. It was time and I didn’t want to lose Bellagio.”

She lifted her glass to her lips. “It’s just another account, isn’t it? With the bonus of public humiliation and a few bad memories.”

He paused a half beat and studied her carefully. “I could almost think you didn’t want me around,” he said in a silky but cold voice.

“Of course not,” she said, forcing the words from her throat. “Everyone knows you’re great at what you do. I just thought you might prefer to avoid the discomfort.”

“I did that,” he said and took a long draw from his beer. “The marriage to Brooke didn’t work out and that was for the best, but I’m not losing Bellagio over a failed engagement.”

Trina’s stomach sank at the steel in his tone. She couldn’t imagine how he would respond to her announcement that he was the father of her baby.

“Speaking of Bellagio, I wanted to show you some of the models I’m using for the commercial.” He reached into his pocket for his PalmPilot and turned it on. He pushed some buttons and handed it to her. “What do you think?”

She looked at the headshot of a toothy blonde. “Pretty,” she said. “But we’re not going for perfect,” she added. “We’re going for Ms. And Mr. Everyday who can clean up nicely.”

He nodded. “Don’t want to be intimidating.”

“Right,” she said and took a sip of her wine, mentally girding herself. “There have been some changes. I need to talk about them with you.”

He leaned closer. “At Bellagio,” he said.

She moved her head in a circle. “More with me, and it’s something you should know. I, uh. We, uh—”

“Walker Gordon, when did you get back in town?” a woman’s flirty Southern drawl oozed from a few steps away.

Trina glanced at her perfectly groomed and coiffed former classmate, Blair Smythe Manning Davis, twice divorced.

“Blair—” he said, obviously searching for her last name as he stood.

She beamed, her porcelain veneers gleaming as white as chalk. “You remembered me. The last time we met we were both committed, but you’re single now and so am I.” She shot a quick dismissing glance in Trina’s direction. “It’s been so long since you and I have seen each other, Walker. Would you mind if I join you? Or am I interrupting something important?” she asked as an afterthought.

Walker looked at Trina. “We’re discussing business.”

Blair made a clucking sound and tapped her diamond-encrusted watch. “It’s way past five o’clock. Quitting time,” she said and pulled a chair from another table.

Walker helped Blair with the chair. She smiled at him as she sat down then glanced again at Trina. “Hello, I’m Blair—”

“Davis,” Trina finished because she couldn’t resist.

Blair blinked and she studied Trina.

“Trina Roberts,” she said, rescuing the woman. “You and I went to the same girls’ school.”

“Oh,” Blair said and gave a hesitant smile. “I’ll have to look you up in my yearbook.”

“I’ve let my hair grow and I was a couple years behind you,” Trina couldn’t resist adding, noticing that Blair looked razor thin and had a man-eater look in her eyes. Her hair was highlighted platinum and her skin faux-tanned just this side of oompha-loompha. Two husbands down, ready for number three. She wondered if blood dripped from Blair’s incisors at night.

“Really?” Blair said in disbelief and gave a forced laugh. “I’ll definitely have to dig out my yearbook. But enough about me. Walker, make my dream come true and tell me you’re back in town for good?”

He shot a look of discomfort toward Trina and cleared his throat. “I’m back for good.”

“That’s great. The Walthams are hosting a party this weekend. You absolutely must come with me.”

“I’m still settling in,” he said.

She gave an exaggerated pout. “You can do that anytime. I just want to borrow you on Saturday night. For starters, anyway,” she added with a seductive glint in her eye.

And so it went for twenty more minutes while Trina nursed her little glass of wine and contributed eleven nods and eight uh-huhs. The ball of apprehension in her chest turned to irritation in her stomach.

Tonight was clearly not the night that she would tell Walker about Maddie. She glanced at her watch and was forced to interrupt Blair’s latest combination of gossip and flirting. “Excuse me. I hate to say this, but I have some other plans this evening, so I need to leave.”

She stood and Walker rose to his feet. “Let me walk you to your car.”

“Not necessary. I can find it on my own.”

“I need to cover a couple more things with you,” he said, frustration edging into his tone.

“Let’s try meeting at my office. Give me a call in the morning.”

“I’ll still walk you out.”

“What a gentleman,” Blair said. “Let him walk you out and he can come back and chat with me.”

Trina gave a tight smile. “Okay. It was great seeing you Blair. You look more amazing than ever.”

“Thank you. What a sweetie you are.”

Trina headed out of the bar, feeling Walker catch up to her in just a few strides.

“Were you really going to leave me with her?” he asked.

“Hey, she’s a great contact. She knows everyone and talks about them, too.”

He adjusted his tie. “I didn’t know you went to school with her crowd.”

“I may have gone to school with her, but that doesn’t mean we were friends,” she said, approaching her car and wondering if Walker would notice the infant safety seat in her car. At least she’d remembered to put the top up on her convertible.

She knew, however, that Walker could be very observant. Her edginess ratcheted up another notch. Not wanting to tell him he was a father in the parking lot of a bar, she quickly stepped in front of him. “Sorry I could only give you a brief reprieve from Blair. She’s beautiful and well connected, though.”

“And pushy as hell,” he said and swore. “This didn’t turn out the way I planned.”

She smiled. “It happens that way sometimes.”

“I’ll call you in the morning,” he said and she felt his gaze fall over her in some kind of combination that included masculine scrutiny.

She resisted the urge to suck in her abdomen. “Fine,” she said, backing toward her car.

“We’ll get together tomorrow.”

“No problem,” she said, fighting the jumpiness in her belly at the determined expression on his face.

He nodded. “It’s good to see you again, Trina. I’ve missed talking to you. I always felt like I could level with you.”

“Mmm,” she said with a nod and lifted her hand. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

Walking the rest of the way to her car, she got inside and tossed her purse on the passenger seat. She started the engine and drove out of the parking lot. In her rearview window, she saw Walker still watching her.

CHAPTER SIX

ENTERING THE FOYER of her home, Trina kicked off her heels and plopped her purse and keys on the antique Italian credenza she’d bought at an auction.

The sound of her mother singing a wobbly, warbly rendition of a lullabye broke the silence. Trina rolled her eyes at the sound, but smiled at the same time. Trina and her mother hadn’t gotten along well for about twenty-eight of Trina’s twenty-nine years and they were nowhere near compatible now, but Maddie had managed to bring them to speaking terms.

Maddie had softened the edges of Aubrey’s harsh, often sharp personality, and Trina found it difficult to hold a grudge when she saw her mother willing to make a fool of herself for her only grandchild.

After her lousy meeting with Walker, Trina just wanted to see her baby. She had a terrible feeling that things would change once Walker learned the truth. Now it was just Maddie and her. And while it had been hard in the beginning and Trina never would have predicted it, Maddie provided her with a haven from the insanity of the rest of the world. She tiptoed up the stairs to the nursery and peeked inside.

Her mother eyes were closed as she continued to warble. Maddie made conversational nonsense noises and waved her little hand toward Aubrey’s face.

The poor child was probably trying to find a way to stop the noise her mother was making. Trina scolded herself for the wicked thought.

Aubrey’s eyes opened and she immediately met Trina’s gaze. Her mother’s instincts about her had always amazed her. Aubrey stopped singing mid-phrase and glanced down at Maddie. She sighed. “You’re wide-awake. Time for your Momma.”

“Thank you for taking care of her.” Maddie walked to the rocking chair and took her daughter into her arms. The soft warm weight of her filled a hollow space inside her. She looked down at her carrot-topped baby. “You smell good enough to eat,” she said to Maddie. “Did your Nanna give you a bath?”

Maddie’s mouth stretched into a wide smile and she chortled.

“She’s just like you. Loves her bath,” Aubrey said.

“Thank you, again,” Maddie said, settling into the rocking chair.

“You’re welcome,” Aubrey said. “It was a bit short notice, but since I didn’t have anything scheduled, I could help you. I don’t understand why she won’t go to sleep to the lullabye. It always worked for you.”

“She’s definitely an individual.”

Aubrey sniffed. “She got that from you, too. I’ll wait downstairs for you.”

Trina began to stroke Maddie’s forehead and talked in a soft voice. She’d found it didn’t matter what she said. The stroking and the tone did the trick. “I had a totally terrible time tonight,” she said softly. “I would have enjoyed being with you much more.” An image of Walker raced through her mind and she paused.

Maddie squirmed as if to signal she wanted Trina to continue. Trina smiled and began to stroke Maddie’s forehead again. “But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about me meeting you for lunch tomorrow. Do you think you would like sweet potatoes and green beans? Does that sound good? And if it’s pretty outside, I’ll take you for a stroll…”

Maddie’s little body relaxed and her breathing settled into a steady rhythm. “Works like magic,” Trina said and laid Maddie in the crib.

She walked downstairs and found her mother sitting in the den. Aubrey glanced up and studied her from behind her half-glasses. “You’re wearing makeup,” her mother observed. “And you’ve done something to your hair.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Who did you meet tonight?”

Trina waved her hand and went to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. “Just someone from the advertising agency Bellagio has hired. No big deal.” Except he was hot, and the father of her child.

“Male?” her mother asked.

“Yes, but I think he’s gay,” she lied. That always ended her mother’s inquisitions.

“Oh,” her mother said, then frowned in confusion. “Then why did you dress up?”

“Maybe I listened to my mother and decided it was time to make some effort,” Trina said, swallowing a long drink of water.

“Well, I think that’s wonderful. Are you going to join a weight-loss plan? I’ll be happy to take care of Maddie while—”

“One thing at a time,” Trina said, feeling a sharp jab of irritation. “Why do people find it necessary to comment on my weight? It’s not as if I’m as big as a barn. I’m carrying ten or fifteen extra pounds. In a different century, I would still have been considered too thin for Rubenesque.”

“Oh, other people are commenting,” her mother said sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s because you’re just so close and it would take so little effort—lose a few pounds, get a haircut and color, put on some makeup and buy a new outfit. Then maybe you could get a date.”

As if she couldn’t get one now. Trina didn’t really know if she could get a date. It had been so long since her last date, since the last time she’d had sex. Walker. Last sex…but it hadn’t been a real date. And if skinny Blair had her way, Walker would be taking her out, maybe marrying her.

The thought irritated her. It shouldn’t, she told herself, because marrying Blair would provide its own punishment for Walker. Unless he actually preferred that kind of woman.

Which was none of her business anyway.

“I told you, Mother, that I’m really not dying to date right now. And with my job changes, I’m going to have even less time than before.”

“Job changes?” her mother echoed. “What job changes?”

Trina bit her tongue and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “Nothing major, but I’ve been asked to take on more responsibility.”

“What about Maddie?”

“I’m thinking of hiring someone to help me out. Grocery shopping, meal preparation, taking care of Maddie when I need to stay a little late.”

“Well, I could shop for you and take care of Maddie, and I’m sure Hilda would be happy to cook.”

Trina shook her head. Hilda had been her mother’s nanny during her growing-up years. She was the only hired help still living with her mother and that was primarily because Hilda was eighty-one and had nowhere else to go. “No. Hilda has enough to do and you have a full schedule with bridge and charity.”

Her mother turned silent and her lower lip began to quiver. “You don’t trust me to take care of Madeline.”

Trina immediately felt split in opposing directions. While Aubrey treated Maddie with grandmotherly indulgence, Trina wasn’t sure when that might change to critical intrusion, and she was determined to protect Maddie and herself from the attitude she’d endured during her childhood and adolescence…hell, make that most of her entire life. “That’s not true,” Trina said, trying to be diplomatic. “I asked you to keep her tonight for me, didn’t I? But everyday care is different.”

Her mother opened her mouth to protest and Trina shook her head. “I’ve had a long day at work and I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Thank you for taking care of Maddie tonight.”

“But you should listen to me—”

“Mother, we’ve been over this. You may be my mother, but I am Maddie’s mother, so what I say goes.”

Her mother pressed her lips together in disapproval. “You never listen to me. I may as well go home. Good night,” she said and stiffly walked out of the room.

Trina heard the slam of the front door and winced. Her stomach twisted in a knot and she closed her eyes to take a deep breath. It was all about control, her counselor had told her years ago, and her mother couldn’t stand not having control.

She grabbed the mail her mother had brought in from the kitchen counter and went to the den to collapse onto the couch. Bills, advertisements. She fanned through the envelopes and paused at one that was handwritten. A letter, and the return address wasn’t family. She opened it, and the salutation nearly gave her a heart attack.

Dear Kat, How about a blast from your past? I’ll never forget the time we had together in Myrtle Beach. I’m getting out of prison soon. We should get together. Write back. Affectionately, Stan

Trina stuffed the letter back into the envelope and rushed to the kitchen to throw it in the trash can. She stared at the trash can for a moment then washed her hands with antibacterial cleanser and rinsed them thoroughly.

She never wanted to see the man again in her life. Mistake didn’t cover what she’d done with Stan Roch. Nineteen, stupid and rebellious, she’d married the man. She’d obtained a divorce six weeks later, but only after he’d been hauled off to jail for armed robbery.

Standing in the complete quiet of her home, she wondered which was worse, having her ex-husband, who happened to be an ex-convict, show up wanting to resume the relationship. Or having to tell a man that he was the father of her six-month-old daughter.

SINCE WALKER HADN’T STOPPED since five that morning, he could only squeeze in a cell call to Trina’s voice mail with the message that he would drop by to talk with her after a lunch meeting.

Finding the PR receptionist reading a celebrity gossip magazine at her desk, he cleared his throat. No response. “Is Trina Roberts around?”

Dora glanced up at him blankly, then pulled an earpiece out of her ear and smiled. “Sorry. The local radio is running a contest for a cruise and I thought I’d give it a try. Sounds sweet, doesn’t it?” she asked and gave him a wanna-come-with-me look.

“Yeah, sweet. I was looking for Trina.”

The assistant’s face fell. “Oh, she took a late lunch. I think she said something about visiting her baby.”

Walker blinked. “Baby?” he echoed, surprised. No, shock was a more accurate description.

The assistant nodded. “Yeah. You didn’t know? I’m surprised because you know she’s still carrying a little baby weight and she’s got terrible circles under her eyes. Hello? A little concealer goes a long way.” She sighed and shrugged. “But I guess she’s overwhelmed being a single mom. Lord knows I’d never do that.”

Baby? Single mother? Walker tried to digest the information. He just didn’t see Trina as the motherly type. He remembered her as a mix of warm but sophisticated, sharp and together. “When did, uh—”

“Oh, Maddie’s six months old. And she is cute as a button. For a baby. But, you know, she’s still a baby and they cry and poop and are really demanding.” The assistant turned around in her chair and glanced out the window. “Oh, look, Trina’s taking her for a stroll. I guess you could catch up to her if you really want. Or I could get you a cappuccino and keep you company.”

“Thanks for the offer,” he said. “But I’m running short on time. I’ll head outside.”

The assistant pouted. “Okay, but make time for a little break next time you come around.”

“Have a good day,” he said and walked toward the elevator. The assistant was clearly making an offer. If she weren’t working for Bellagio, then he might take her up on it. Walker was unopposed to hot, uncomplicated sex, but after his relationship with Brooke had muddied the waters with Bellagio, he figured he’d better stay away from the Bellagio honeys at least until he was on firmer ground.

He took the elevator down to ground level and walked to the side of the building where he saw Trina pushing a stroller. With the sun shining brightly, the temperature in the midseventies and a slight breeze rustling through the trees, he supposed it was a good day to take a baby for a stroll. Not that he would ever have to do that kind of thing.

“Hey, Trina,” he called as he caught up to her. “Trina,” he said again when she didn’t respond.

She came to a dead stop and turned to look at him. Her face drained of color. “Walker?”

He stared at her. “Hey, I didn’t mean to startle you. The assistant told me you were out here.”

Her eyes wide with fear, she gave a little nod. “Dora.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, Dora. She told me you had a baby. How come you didn’t tell me?” he asked, looking curiously at the stroller. His gaze landed on an infant with a blue barrette holding a wisp of carrot-colored hair in a topknot that stood straight up. She made singsong noises and moved her head from side to side. He smiled. “She’s cute.”

“Um, thanks,” Trina said and bit her lip.

She was giving off a very weird vibe, he thought and frowned. “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath and seemed to be trying to collect herself. “I had hoped to do this differently,” she said. Meeting his gaze, she gave a choky kind of laugh. “Actually, I had hoped to never have to tell you.”

“Tell me what? That you had a baby? I’m surprised, but other people do it all the time.”

She took another breath, looked away and then met his gaze again. “Maddie is yours,” she said.

Walker stared at Trina. The distant sounds of car horns blowing and engines humming along with the baby’s babbles through the periphery of his brain. He couldn’t have heard Trina correctly. “Excuse me?”

“I said Maddie is yours. You are her father.” She looked at him silently. “Do the math. She was born nine months after that night you and I…”