The Family Plan (16 page)

Maybe she should have worked at home today, she mused. True, she wouldn’t have had all the office resources at her fingertips, but at least in her apartment she wouldn’t be surrounded by reminders of Nathan. She wouldn’t hear the echoes of his laughter in the other rooms or picture him standing beside her desk, looking at her with that unnerving new gleam of awareness in his eyes.

She wondered what he and Isabelle were doing today. And whether Isabelle was really settling into her preschool program as well as Nathan believed. Whether Isabelle really missed seeing her. And, most annoying of all, she kept wondering whether Nathan was thinking of her today as often as she thought of him.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a schoolgirl with an embarrassing crush on a classmate!

“Whatever you’re reading must be really boring,” Nathan commented from the doorway. “You look as though you’re falling asleep at your desk.”

She jumped, her hands falling to the desktop with a thud, her shoulders straightening. It was a measure of her distraction that she hadn’t heard anyone enter the offices. Again.

They really should invest in a better security system.

“I wasn’t expecting you this morning,” she said, then noticed his little blond shadow. “Hello, Isabelle.”

She was caught by surprise a second time when the little girl dashed across the office and launched herself into Caitlin’s lap. Her arms filled with warm, soft, sweet-smelling child, Caitlin rested her cheek for a moment against Isabelle’s fine hair.

This, she thought, could become addictive.

After a moment Isabelle wriggled back to look into Caitlin’s face. “Where have you been, Miss Caitlin?”

Caitlin smiled wryly. “I’ve been busy, I’m afraid. And so have you, I hear. How’s preschool?”

“It’s good. I’ve got a new friend. Her name is Kelsey. And I like Jessica and Tiffany and Justin, too, but I don’t like Danny, because he pulls my hair and says I got holes in my face. I told him he’s stupid because he doesn’t know the difference between holes and dimples, and he pulled my hair
again!
So I said I wouldn’t be his friend, and then he pouted like a baby.”

Caitlin followed the breathless diatribe with some difficulty, giving Nathan a quizzical look over the top of Isabelle’s head. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, except a lame, “I’m glad you’re making new friends.”

Nathan stepped forward and laid a sheet of yellow construction paper on the desk in front of her. “Isabelle made this for you at school.”

She smiled when she studied the gift. It was an endearingly lopsided crayon drawing of a woman with a big red smile, glued-on brown yarn hair, and clothes fashioned from mismatched scraps of fabric, ribbons and buttons.

“It’s a picture of you, Miss Caitlin,” Isabelle said earnestly.

“It’s lovely.” Caitlin touched a fingertip to one flyaway twist of yarn hair. “Thank you, Isabelle, I’ll treasure this.”

Nathan hefted the bulging purple backpack he carried higher on one arm. “Come on, poppet, Miss Caitlin’s busy. Let’s go set up your toys in my office and you can play while I catch up on some correspondence.”

“I brought my travel dollhouse,” Isabelle informed Caitlin. “It’s got furniture and a family and a car and a little dog and a cat. Nate bought it for me at the toy store. You want to see it?”

“It sounds really cool. I’ll come see it in a little while, okay?”

“Okay.” Isabelle bustled out of the room, obviously eager to play with her new toy.

Nathan lingered in the doorway for a moment. “She wasn’t able to bring many toys with her from California. I didn’t think it would hurt to buy her a few new things occasionally.”

“Neither do I,” she replied with lifted eyebrows. “And there’s certainly no need to justify your purchases to me.”

He smiled wryly. “Maybe I’m just seeking reassurance. I’m sort of playing this by ear, you know.”

“And you seem to be doing just fine.”

“Thanks.” He glanced at the pile of documents on the desk in front of her. “I won’t disturb you any longer. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

Caitlin glared in frustration at the doorway after he left. Because of her pervasive thoughts of Nathan, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on work
before
the interruption. Now that she was so aware of Nathan and Isabelle only a couple of rooms away, she was afraid concentration would be even more difficult—if not impossible.

Her work had always been so important to her, taking precedence over nearly everything else. The pursuit of career success had been her one driving ambition since she was ten years old. Already tired of living in an endless series of dilapidated trailers and apartments while her good-hearted but impractical father had drifted from one dead-end job to another, she had decided that her future would be different.

Studying the parents of her classmates, she had determined that a solid career was the best measure of security and stability. Her father had reinforced that belief, telling her repeatedly that she had the opportunity to make something more of herself than he had accomplished in his own life.

It hadn’t been easy. Lacking family resources, she had funded her college education with scholarships, grants and a series of jobs. Her father—overweight and a heavy smoker—had died of a heart attack three months after her college graduation. Her mother, who had always struggled with high blood pressure, had suffered her stroke during Caitlin’s second year of law school and had never recovered from the massive brain damage. Had Caitlin been easily distracted or discouraged, she never would have made it this far.

So why was she having so much trouble now, when everything had been going so well? What was it about Nathan that he could slip past emotional barriers that no other man had been able to bypass? A couple of guys had tried, but she had never been swayed from her ultimate goal—full partnership in a solid, secure, successful practice. Maybe here in Honesty with Nathan or perhaps in an older, larger firm somewhere else.

Because of her mother’s condition, it was convenient for now to be here, only an hour’s drive from the nursing home, but she was still open to offers. She had always believed she was free to pick up and leave at any time, with proper notification to her partner, of course, and suitable arrangements for her mother. She wasn’t at all comfortable with the sensation that insidious little tendrils were twining around her ankles—or her heart, perhaps?—making her feel that it wouldn’t be as easy to leave this place as she had previously believed.

She was fully aware of the contradictions in her emotional reasoning; the almost-obsessive need to be free to leave even as she worked ceaselessly toward long-term security. Maybe a psychologist could analyze that dichotomy; she simply accepted it as a result of her childhood experiences. She was as afraid of emotional bonds as she was of career obstacles.

Nathan and Isabelle definitely represented at least one of those fears.

As if to recall her attention to matters at hand, one of the documents on her desk ruffled in a gust of temperature-controlled air from a ceiling vent. Great, she thought with a scowl. Now she’d drifted off into philosophical soul searching instead of the painstaking scrutiny of property descriptions.

Vowing to be more productive for the rest of the day, she directed her attention fully to the papers in front of her.

Chapter Nine

C
aitlin managed to work uninterrupted for another hour. After making a final note on the yellow legal pad in front of her, she closed the case file. Might as well take a break, she thought, stretching casually.

Maybe she would pop into Nathan’s office for a couple of minutes. She had promised Isabelle she would look at her dollhouse. It would be rude not to follow through on that promise.

Nathan’s door was open. She heard his computer keyboard clattering as she approached. She had almost reached the doorway when she heard Isabelle singing very quietly—a nursery rhyme, perhaps? Pausing in the doorway, she took in the scene. Nathan was hard at work at his desk, his brow creased in concentration, and Isabelle sat cross-legged on the carpet, contentedly arranging furniture in a colorful plastic dollhouse.

It was a sight that made her feel like sighing for some strange reason.

Isabelle spotted her first. Ending her song in midline, she broke into a smile. “Did you come to see my dollhouse, Miss Caitlin?”

“Yes, I did.” She glanced apologetically at Nathan, who had looked away from his computer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

He pressed a couple of buttons to save and close his file. “I can finish this later.”

Feeling as though she were the intruder this time, she entered the office and knelt in front of Isabelle’s dollhouse. It really was an intriguing toy; constructed of heavy-duty plastic, it was hinged to fold into a carrying case when not in use. Each room was equipped with whimsically shaped plastic furnishings. A red plastic convertible held a cheerful-looking family of four—father, mother, brother and baby sister.

“This is really nice.” Caitlin picked up a pink plastic sofa to admire more closely. “I’m sure you’ve been having fun with it.”

Isabelle touched a chubby finger to each plastic figure. “This is Bob. He’s the dad. This is Susie. She’s the mom. The kids are Mike and Annie.”

“I like the names you’ve chosen.”

“They’re people in stories I like.”

“I see.” Caitlin replaced the couch and gave the little car a push. “It’s a very fine play set, Isabelle.”

“Thank you.” Isabelle made an adjustment to a yellow chair, the pride of home ownership glowing on her little face.

Nathan glanced at his watch. “It’s almost noon. I bet you’re getting hungry, poppet.”

Isabelle rubbed her tummy. “I am hungry.”

“So am I. How about it, Caitlin, want to make it a three-some for lunch?”

“Oh, I—”

Isabelle jumped up and caught Caitlin’s hand in hers, gazing entreatingly up at her. “Come have lunch with us, Miss Caitlin. Please.”

So
unfair. There was no way she could resist the look in those big blue eyes. “Well, I suppose I could join you for a quick lunch.”

The little girl’s smile was ample reward for Caitlin capitulation.

Because it was nearby and offered an extensive children’s menu, they selected Jolly’s Deli for their lunch destination, taking Nathan’s car. A popular establishment close to the main shopping areas, Jolly’s was as crowded as Caitlin had expected, but she knew the service to be fast.

As she had also predicted, she knew quite a few of the other diners and Nathan was acquainted with even more of them. She was keenly aware of the attention focused their way as they stood in line to order, Isabelle standing between them holding their hands. Many locals knew who Isabelle was now, of course, and they expressed their interest with sidelong stares and behind-the-hand whispers.

She could only imagine what the gossips must be making of seeing her with Nathan and Isabelle again. Even before Isabelle’s arrival, Caitlin knew there had been idle speculation about her relationship with Nathan, which was understandable, she supposed. Both of them young, single and unattached, spending so much time together at work. Now…well, the grapevine would probably have them engaged by sundown.

Since there was nothing she could do about potential rumors, she decided to hold her head high and enjoy her lunch.

There were few awkward moments during the casual meal, mostly because Isabelle provided entertainment with stories about her preschool adventures. Caitlin listened attentively to the child, but she would hate to be tested later on anything Isabelle said.

Caitlin’s attention kept wandering to Nathan, who sat more quietly than usual at the other side of the table. She had the feeling that while he was outwardly enjoying the meal and the conversation, he was actually watching her, too.

It was inevitable, of course, with all that surreptitious watching, that their eyes would eventually meet. And hold. Though she was aware that Isabelle was still babbling, and she could still hear the chatter and clatter of the crowded restaurant around them, she couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the gleam in Nathan’s deep-blue eyes.

How strange that she could suddenly almost feel the pressure of his lips against her. She had been prone to relive The Kiss at odd moments, but this was the first time she had drifted into fantasy right out in public. Especially in front of Nathan. Not to mention Isabelle.

“Nate? Hey, Nate?”

Still looking into Caitlin’s eyes as though he could see the disturbing thoughts behind them, Nathan responded absently to Isabelle’s prodding. “What is it, poppet?”

“Isn’t that your mom?”

The innocent question made both Caitlin and Nathan start, their gazes breaking apart. Following the direction of Isabelle’s pointing finger, Caitlin spotted Lenore McCloud at the same time the other woman noticed them.

Carrying plates filled at the salad bar, Lenore and another woman were headed toward a table not far from the one where Caitlin sat with Nathan and Isabelle. Lenore’s steps faltered, her face going taut with pained recognition.

Caitlin had the unsettling sensation that the noisy restaurant suddenly went quiet around them, though she knew that was exaggeration. She also knew, however, that many pairs of eyes waited to see how Lenore would react to this awkward encounter.

They all should have known, of course, that Lenore was nothing if not socially conscious. Though her eyes had gone flat and opaque, she managed a cordial nod. “Nathan. Caitlin.”

Isabelle took no offense at the slight. “Hi, Nate’s mom,” she said with her brightest Shirley Temple smile. “We’re having lunch.”

Her gaze darting quickly around them, Lenore cleared her throat and replied, “Yes, so I see. Enjoy your meal.” She gave Nathan a look of reproach before turning to her companion. “We’d better claim our table before someone else does, Maxine.”

Caitlin noted that Lenore chose a seat that placed her back toward their table. Glancing at Nathan, Caitlin saw the flash of pain in his eyes. He so obviously hated this distance between his mother and himself, but he was just as obviously at a loss as to how to bridge it.