That New York Minute (17 page)

“I’m sure I could make a lateral move to another firm, but I wouldn’t get offered a partnership,” she said. Partnerships were few and far between. “I want that long-term stability. Besides, I love KBC. It’s like home.”

Ogilvy & Mather had tried to poach Rachel last year. She’d turned them down from the get-go, hadn’t even heard their offer. As far as she was concerned, a bird in the hand was worth a dozen in the bush.

“You love it even though they’re not treating you right?” Stephanie asked as she set the coffee mugs on the low table.

“They’ve been very good to me.”
When it suited them.
The sneaking thought surprised her. “I—I’m happy there,” she said. Aware she was now starting to sound a little pathetic.

“Maybe you should expect more,” Stephanie said. “Sometimes we assume we’re still happy, when in reality we haven’t taken a good, hard look at our situation in years.”

When Dwight twitched in his chair, Rachel realized her insights weren’t entirely about KBC.

Then Garrett said, “You need to know, Rach, loyalty doesn’t pay.”

And she knew damn well he wasn’t talking about work. Ever since they’d left the office tonight, ever since that kiss, he’d been demonstrating his lack of willingness to engage. Warning her not to expect anything.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

G
ARRETT
WATCHED
R
ACHEL
sipping her coffee, her hands wrapped around the mug, her face somber. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of her fingers against his scalp, when he’d kissed her tonight.

Couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her, the sound of her little cries of pleasure. Her words
I’ve never felt anything like this.

That, more than anything, more even than the alarming sensation of being thrust out of his depth by a kiss, had decided him.

He didn’t want to be the man who made Rachel feel…however she’d felt tonight. Next, she’d be relying on him, expecting all kinds of things—emotions, commitments—from him that he didn’t want to give.

He’d felt like a jerk just now, but at least he’d made his position clear. As soon as she finished that coffee, she’d be out of here.

The silence stretched until Garrett could see Rachel and Stephanie were uncomfortable with it. It didn’t bother him; nor, it seemed, his father.

“Are you from New York, Admiral Calder?” Rachel asked Dwight after another moment.

“Boston,” Dwight said. “The navy provides a studio apartment near the UN for my use midweek, but home is Connecticut—New London. We moved there before Garrett was born.”

“He means he and Michelle, his first wife,” Stephanie inserted easily.

She’d never shied away from mentioning his mom, Garrett realized. Never acted possessive or resentful.

No need to resent a woman who’s not around to compete.

“We didn’t want to leave, even though the navy sent me on long-term assignments every so often,” Dwight said. “Michelle used to say New London was the safest place in the world.” He rubbed his forehead. “Which is ironic.”

It was obvious he was referring to her death. Damn, just when Garrett had made it plain Rachel wasn’t getting anything more out of him. He waited for her to pounce on the opportunity to learn the truth.

“Indeed,” Rachel murmured, and took another sip of her coffee. “So, what’s been your most enjoyable assignment?”

She wasn’t asking about his mother?

His dad launched into a description of the three months he’d spent at Coronado. Rachel gave every impression of interest, while Garrett sat there wondering why she hadn’t asked how his mother died.

One possible reason was that she’d lost interest in him. That would be good. Yep, he told himself, that would be excellent. Just dandy.

“Stephanie, you need some sleep.” Dwight reached out, touched Stephanie’s arm. “I’ll go now. Rachel, can I offer you a ride?”

“I live way up in Washington Heights,” she said.

“That’s no problem,” Dwight said. “Though I should warn you, I drive a Hummer. You’ll have to set aside any greenie scruples.” It was the kind of heavy-handed humor his father specialized in. It was also a dig at Garrett, who’d called the Hummer a gas-guzzler on more than one occasion.

“Maybe not the most ecofriendly car,” Rachel agreed. “But lovely and safe.”

Which of course had Dwight beaming.

Rachel stood. “I need to wash my hands before we go.”

“Use the ensuite in my room at the end of the hall,” Garrett said. “Stephanie’s bathroom is a war zone.”

Dwight looked startled at the news his wife was a slob. Stephanie lifted her chin and stared him down.

On her way to the bathroom, Rachel gave Garrett’s bedroom a once-over. His room was neater than she would have expected. Very neat. A king-size bed with a dark blue duvet. Both nightstands were stacked with books.

She switched on the light in the bathroom and saw a narrow marble vanity unit that looked like it was an original fitting. The shower, though, was übermodern with glass walls and glazed rectangular tiles.

As Rachel washed her hands, she noticed the liquid soap was the same brand as the one in the shower.

She sniffed her fingers. A faint smell of ginger. Not the scent she’d come to think of as Garrett’s trademark. The vanity unit held a mug with a toothbrush and paste. No cologne.

She glanced around the bathroom. The mirror above the washbasin concealed another cupboard, she realized. She looked over her shoulder, then opened the cupboard.

More soap, a razor, aspirin. No cologne.

Where was it? She snapped off the light and returned to the bedroom. No cologne on the nightstands, or the beech dresser. The logical place for it would be Garrett’s top dresser drawer. But of course, she couldn’t look there.

If Garrett was shutting her out of everything else, he certainly wasn’t inviting her into his dresser.

She sank down onto the end of the bed and contemplated her disastrous night. Snooping on Clive had achieved a big fat nothing. The kiss that she’d considered earth-shattering had led Garrett to behave obnoxiously…and to the discovery that the firm she loved valued the fickle Garrett much more highly than it did her.

Rachel badly needed to win at something. Even if it was just by proving that Garrett did indeed wear cologne.

One drawer, she told herself. One look. Though technically she should check out the nightstand drawers, too.

One drawer on each item of furniture.

Quickly, before she could chicken out, she opened the top drawer of the nightstand nearest the bathroom. No cologne.

The top drawer of the dresser was similarly lacking. But it did contain a paper shopping bag bearing the brand of an expensive baby store. Rachel peeked into the bag. A merino sleep-sack, soft gray printed with white sheep. She cursed the wave of tenderness that washed over her. Big deal if Garrett bought a snuggly gift for his new sibling.

She was after cologne, not baby gifts. Last chance, the other nightstand.

Rather than walk all the way around the enormous bed, she threw herself across it and tugged the drawer open. Nothing.

At least, no cologne. Just a heap of shiny stones scrunched up in a corner of the drawer, which, when she lifted them, transformed into a necklace of gems, many of which she didn’t recognize, set in gold filigree. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Looking for something?” Garrett asked from the doorway.

She shrieked. “That’s the second time tonight you’ve sneaked up on me.”

“It’s not called sneaking up when you’re going through my drawers.” He advanced into the room.

She slid off the bed. “If you must know, I was looking for your cologne.”

“I told you, I don’t wear the stuff.” Garrett closed the dresser drawer she’d left slightly ajar.

She held up the necklace. “What’s this?”

He groaned. “For Pete’s sake, Rachel, what does it take to knock you back? It’s none of your damn business.”

“It takes a lot more to knock me back than you’d think possible,” she said. “Just because you’re running scared, Garrett, that doesn’t mean I am.” She waved the necklace at him. “Ex-girlfriend? Tramp who broke your heart and stole your wallet but left this souvenir?”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “My mother made it. She was studying at the Jewelry Arts Institute here in Manhattan. She was working on her first collection.”

When she died.

Rachel examined the necklace. “She was really talented. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“She was amazing,” he said. “When she chose to do something, she put her all into it. She wanted us—me and Lucas—to be the same. She never tried to force choices on us—we always knew she would love us whether she approved of our decisions or not. But she was adamant that we should choose something that would make us happy, and pursue it until we got it.”

“What does Lucas do? Is he in New York, too?”

“He’s in the navy, flying choppers on an aircraft carrier in the Persian Gulf.”

“Cool,” she said. “When did you last see him?”

“Christmas.” He straightened the duvet where she’d rumpled it. “Dad would never exert his influence to get Lucas home for the holiday, but obviously the powers that be did it for him anyway.”

“Is Lucas like you?” she asked.

“He’s a good guy,” Garrett said. “He has a lot of integrity, and he flourishes in the discipline of the navy. He’s got what it takes to be a leader.”

“Polar opposites, then,” Rachel said.

He smiled, and to Rachel it seemed bittersweet. “My father’s very proud of him.”

Rachel swallowed. “Were your mom and dad happy together?” She handed him the necklace, and he pocketed it.

“Yeah. I have no idea how. If Mom had known how quickly he’d forget her, maybe she would’ve felt differently.”

Rachel longed to comfort him, but she knew it was the last thing he wanted. His relationship with his dad was a mess—thank goodness he’d had such a wise, loving mother for most of his youth.

Michelle Calder’s advice—figure out what will make you happy, then pursue it—had a lot going for it. Rachel wondered if Garrett’s brother had achieved that goal. Unlike Garrett, who was still flitting around the advertising industry, from one job to another. He was—

Realization dawned. “Oh,” she said.

“If you’re done snooping through my things, you’d better leave,” Garrett said. “Dad’s waiting… .” He paused as he noticed she wasn’t moving. “What’s up?”

“I just figured out something really ironic.”

“You may not be a good judge of irony at one-thirty in the morning,” he warned.

“It’s all about your mother,” she said.

His sigh was exasperated. “What is?”

“You and the way you live. I always thought you had so many different jobs because you can’t commit. Because you’re a flake.”

“No, please,” he murmured, “say what you really think.”

She grinned. “But really, you’re just doing what your mom told you to do.”

“Okay, it’s late.” He headed for the door.

“You discovered that advertising is what you love, what makes you happy,” she said, “and you’ve spent the last few years working your way up. Giving it everything you’ve got.”

“Interesting theory.” He left the room, forcing her to follow.

“You don’t lack loyalty or commitment at all,” she said behind him.

“Yes, I do,” he said.

“Nope. You want to be the best damn creative director in New York, and you’re going for it. You’re committed to your career and loyal to your mom’s philosophy.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said. They’d reached the living room. “Rachel’s ready to leave, Dad.”

Stephanie had already gone to bed, so there were no prolonged goodbyes.

“You know what this means, Garrett,” Rachel said as he was about to close the door on them.

“I have a horrible feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“The bad news, for me at least, is you’re going to be almost impossible to beat in the Brightwater pitch.”

He grinned. “Now that’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

“The reason is that this is way more important to you than you’ve admitted even to yourself,” she said.

He made a winding motion with his hand. “And the good news?”

“You’re a decent guy who’s quite capable of forming lasting relationships. Your problem is, you’re also a big coward.”

The door slammed in her face.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

G
ARRETT
WAS
IN
THE
MIDDLE
of reviewing the Brightwater creative that he’d be showing Tony tomorrow, when his cell phone rang.

“Hi, Stephanie,” he said, aware that a month ago he wouldn’t have addressed her by name.

Since then, he’d seen her at all hours of the day and night, learned she was the messiest bathroom user in the history of modern plumbing, had her tail Clive for him and let her drive him to a midnight raid at the office. He’d laced up her sneakers for her when she couldn’t reach her feet anymore. Kind of hard to hate her after all that.

“Garrett, I need you to come right away.” Her voice was tense.

He straightened in his chair. “What’s the matter? Is it the baby?”

“Please, Garrett, just get here as soon as you can—2300 Southern Boulevard, in the Bronx.”

“What are you doing way up there?”

But she’d hung up.

Garrett tried to call her back as he raced out of his office. Her phone was switched off. What the hell was going on?

He kept calling her from the taxi, through the interminable twenty-minute drive. Why wouldn’t she answer? What if she was hurt? What if the baby was…gone?

He called Rachel. Who might be the most annoying person in the world, but was also the most likely to understand how he felt at any given moment. Not that he’d tell her that.

“I’m in a cab, heading for the Bronx. Stephanie called. I think something’s wrong.” He told her the details, heard her sharp cry of distress.

“Do you want me to meet you there?” she asked. The concern in her voice, for him as well as Stephanie, warmed him through his anxiety. Almost enough for him to overlook her kooky theories about what made him tick.

Out the window, Garrett saw I-95 signs.

“Looks like you’ll be somewhere near the zoo,” the driver said.

“I’m nearly there,” Garrett told Rachel. “I’ll see what’s going on and call you if I need you.”

“Let me know either way,” she said. “And that’s an order, Garrett.”

“Yes, ma’am.” For once, he didn’t mind her bossiness.

“You said 2300 Southern?” the driver asked.

“Yeah.” Garrett shoved his phone in his pocket, and pulled out his wallet.

“That’s actually the zoo,” the cabbie said.

Huh? Garrett stared out the window as they pulled up near the gate between two tour buses. There was Stephanie, scanning the street. She waved when she saw him.

She was upright, at least. Some of the panic left Garrett as he paid the driver. Maybe her car had broken down and her pregnancy hormones stopped her doing something logical like calling AAA. Though why she was at the zoo…

“What’s up?” he asked as he approached her.

“Okay, don’t get mad,” she said. “The baby’s fine and so am I.”

Nothing like saying
Don’t get mad
to raise someone’s hackles. “What’s this about, Stephanie?”

A school group, maybe ten-year-olds, passed them, chatting at a hundred decibels about tigers and camels. Automatically, Garrett tugged Stephanie out of the jostle zone, over by a chain-link fence.

“It’s about you,” she said.

He glared at the teacher, who wasn’t telling those kids to keep the noise down. “What?”

“Your childhood ended too early, when your mom died,” Stephanie said.

Garrett stiffened. She didn’t get to talk about his mom, the woman whose place she usurped. “I wasn’t a child,” he said coldly.

“Sure, your voice had broken,” she said. “Though don’t think I didn’t realize you were making it deeper than it really was.”

Something suspiciously like a blush warmed Garrett’s face.

“You were fifteen,” she said, laughing. “Of course you deepened your voice.”

“Just tell me why you dragged me out of my preparation for the most important pitch of my life,” he said. But he had a horrible feeling he knew the answer.

“You’re the one who said yesterday that you think better when you take some time out of the office to clear your head,” she said. “So we’re going to the zoo.”

Garrett turned on his heel, only to have her lock her hands around his arm with a determined strength.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “You resisted every attempt I made at getting close to you when your dad and I married. I don’t blame you for that, but I blame myself for not pushing harder. For letting you get away with it because it was easier.”

“You did me a favor—I didn’t want your excursions and your home-baked muffins,” he said. “I didn’t want them then, and I don’t want them now.”

“You
needed
them,” she said. “It wasn’t about me replacing your mother—we both know I couldn’t do that, nor should I have ever tried. It was about you not having to grow up overnight and be this young man you weren’t quite ready to be. No matter what you thought.”

Garrett swallowed over something scratchy in his throat. “This is crap.”

“No, this is my way of apologizing for giving up too easily,” she said. “Please, Garrett, let me take you to the zoo.”

“I’m busy, I have a pitch—”

Whoa. Before he could figure what she was doing, Stephanie had grabbed his hand and pressed it against her stomach.

He felt it.

A definite kick, as if—as if there was something
alive
in there.

There is, dummy.

“How does that feel to you?” he said wonderingly.

Her face broke into the most beatific smile. “Amazing. How does it feel to you?”

“Amazing.” He realized he still had his hand on her stomach and she was no longer holding him there. He let his hand drop.

“Come on.” Stephanie gestured to the zoo entrance, and Garrett found himself following her meekly to the ticket booth.

“Damn, if we’d come here fifteen years ago, maybe we could have passed you off as a child,” she joked as she handed him his ticket.

Garrett shook his head, still not quite sure what this was all about. “I’d better call Rachel. She’s worried you’re in premature labor.”

“I’m sorry.” Stephanie touched his arm. “I didn’t think you’d come if I invited you to the zoo.”

Well, duh.

Rachel laughed when he told her what was happening.

“Have fun,” she said. “Don’t stick your fingers through any bars.” She paused. “On second thought, do. A little mauling might distract you from your pitch.”

Garrett was smiling as he ended the call.

Stephanie showed him her map of the zoo. “I thought we’d start with the snow leopard, if you don’t have a preference.”

“I seriously don’t have a preference,” he said. “Dad would start with the aardvarks, of course.”

“Everything in order,” she agreed. But her smile was sad, and Garrett wished he hadn’t mentioned his dad. Then she punched his arm lightly. “I saw on the website that the snow leopard’s pregnant. You can tell me which of us you think is bigger.”

She had a definite waddle these days, Garrett noticed. The snow leopard was a crowd-puller, its enclosure a magnet for school trips, as well as mothers of preschoolers, pushing buggies, often in groups.

“Did you ever come here with Lucas?” Garrett asked as he watched the animal stretch in the sun.

“A couple of times. Once on a class trip, once just him and me.” She slid him a glance. “I did invite you.”

“I’m sure you did.” He didn’t remember, but he knew he would have refused the invitation.

“I’m glad we’re here now,” she said. “I wonder what Lucas is doing right this minute.”

Garrett glanced at his watch. “Playing the third round of an after-dinner poker game would be my guess.”

She sighed. “You’re so literal, just like your father.”

When he halted, she tsked. “That’s a compliment when I say it.”

“And yet you left him,” Garrett reminded her.

She sighed, and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Are you serious about Rachel?” she asked.

“We’re not even dating,” he said.

“She seems to understand you, and I can tell you think she’s hot.”

“Did you and Lucas used to have conversations like this?” Garrett asked. “No wonder he took off for the Gulf.”

“Sometimes we did,” she said. “Not that I knew what to say to him, any more than I do to you.”

“Silence can be the best policy,” he said.

“Not that.” She squeezed his hand. “I did too much of that.” She let go of his hand and pointed. “This way to the gorillas. They really do peel bananas, you know.”

“Amazing,” he said. But he was grinning. He remembered coming to the zoo with his mom, but it had been a very long time ago.

Maybe one day he’d bring his little brother or sister here.

“I think,” he said, after Stephanie handed a complete stranger her camera and asked the guy to take a photo of her and Garrett in front of the gorilla, “you’ll make a pretty good mom.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she flung her arms around him.

“I didn’t mean for me,” he said, horrified.

She smacked his shoulder as she chortled wetly. “I know you didn’t. Thanks, Garrett, it means a lot to hear you say that.”

Garrett cleared his throat.

“Now we just need your dad to fulfill his potential to be a great father,” Stephanie said.

Nothing like a mention of the old man to strip the fun out of a conversation.

“Isn’t there a rhino somewhere around here?” he asked.

* * *

O
N
HIS
WAY
BACK
to the office three hours later, Garrett’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number…but he did recognize the voice, even through static and a killer echo.

“Lucas, is that you? What’s going on?” His brother didn’t phone him on a regular basis. Not on any basis, actually. They emailed every so often and were always delighted to see each other, but they didn’t call.

“That’s what I was about to ask you,” his brother retorted. “I just spoke to Dad last night, and for the fourth call running he told me Stephanie was out.” Lucas paused, and the echo came through. “She doesn’t go out that much. Especially not at night without Dad. Is it—is there a problem with the baby?”

“No!” Garrett was relieved to be able to reassure him. It must drive Lucas nuts, being so far from the people he cared about. “I just left Stephanie a few minutes ago—she and the baby are fine.” Dammit, he could understand his father not wanting to worry Lucas about the split—though it was unlike Dwight to shrink from the truth—but now Garrett would have to do the honors. More entanglements.

“What do you mean you just left her?” Lucas’s voice faded out then came back in again. “Isn’t it Tuesday afternoon there? About three o’clock?”

“We were at the zoo,” Garrett said. Utter silence down the line. “Lucas? You still there?”

“This line is totally screwed,” Lucas said. “It sounded like you said the zoo.”

Garrett sighed. “Okay, little brother, this is a long story. Brace yourself.”

By the time he finished telling Lucas the facts, then reassuring his brother—somewhat less factually—that he was doing everything in his power to help their dad and Stephanie work things out, he was back at the KBC building.

Instead of heading inside, he strolled up Madison Avenue and kept talking.

“I can’t believe Dad didn’t tell me this.” Lucas sounded hurt. “Didn’t he trust me to handle it?”

“Of course he did,” Garrett said. “He’s so proud of you, he talks about you all the time. Often to ask why I can’t go into the navy like you did.”

“He’s proud of you, too.” Lucas didn’t quite manage to make it ring true.

Given the rarity of their conversations, Garrett decided not to ruin this one by calling his brother an ass. He merely pointed out, “I’m not the one who went into the navy, then got a bunch of promotions and medals and whatever. You couldn’t have made Dad happier.”

“I didn’t do it for Dad,” Lucas said.

“Right, you did it for you. Which is great.” This conversation was bringing back memories of the late-night talks he used to have with Lucas. They’d shared a room for a while after Mom died…until Dwight had declared that enough was enough and they were men now, who could handle sleeping in their own rooms. Ironically, of course, on an aircraft carrier all but the most senior officers shared compartments with fellow sailors.

“I did it for Mom,” Lucas said. “Or at least, because she would want me to.”

“Mom’s not the one who was always nagging us to go into the forces,” Garrett said, confused.

“
I
wanted to join the navy,” Lucas said. “But as for the promotions and medals…you know how Mom always said, ‘Whatever makes you happy, pursue it with everything you’ve got.’”

Garrett took a couple of seconds. “Yeah, I know.”

“I always figured that’s been behind your meteoric rise up the ad agency ranks,” Lucas said.