Her mother smiled, the kind of smile that told Molly a conversation was coming she didn’t want to hear. “If you want, I could call Douglas…?”
“You don’t have to call Doug.”
“Molly, really, I think you’re being awfully hard on him. Can’t you two work it out?”
Work out what? She and Doug had been divorced for over two years now, and still her mother thought resurrecting her failed marriage was as simple as picking up the phone and arranging a dinner date. She didn’t seem to understand the arguments that had driven a wedge between Doug and her, the differences in everything from the way they viewed the world to the future they envisioned together.
She’d been so naïve when she’d married Doug. She was swept off her feet by his charm, the way he took care of every little detail, making her busy life suddenly seem easy. At first, it was simple to fall into Doug’s regimented world, to let him make the decisions. Then, too late, she’d realized that he had no intentions of relaxing the rigid rules by which he lived. The man who had seemed so organized and under control she now saw as unyielding and closed off to the full life of children. The life that she wanted.
If she ever got married again—and that if was so big it topped Mt. Everest—she’d give the event weeks, maybe months of careful thought. No rushing in, no thinking with her hormones instead of her brains.
She’d be smart. Not infatuated. Ever again.
“Doug is miserable, you know,” her mother added, then she sighed. “I just want you to be happy, like your father and I were.” Her mother’s eyes misted at the mention of Molly’s late father.
“I am happy, Mom.”
“Being alone?” Cynthia shook her head. “How?”
Molly realized then that her mother’s concern stemmed more from her own difficulties dealing with the loss of her husband eighteen months ago than worry about the demise of Molly’s marriage. “You get involved, Mom. Join that bridge club you’ve been talking about. Go to the book club at the library.”
Cynthia looked away.
“Mom…”
“They’re reading
Wuthering Heights
this month,” she said softly.
“You love Brontë.”
Cynthia turned back to her daughter. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” she said instead, retreating to the safety of playing mother hen. “If you want, I can stay.”
Molly’s stomach was rebelling, and the mere thought of making the six-mile drive to work had her wishing she could turn right around and head back to bed, but she refused to tell her mother that. “Go to the book club meeting, Mom. I’m fine. I’ll call you later.” She pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek, inhaling her familiar scent. “I promise.”
Then she got in the car, and left, before her mother could finish the sentence she was beginning to sputter. Molly sent Cynthia a wave, then headed down the driveway and off to work.
Only eight-fifteen. At least an hour and a half until her meeting with the administration was over and she could get into Dr. Carter’s office. The day had barely begun and already, she could swear it had lasted a year.
“I know what I want, and that isn’t it.” Lincoln Curtis slid the portfolio across the polished mahogany table to the team of architects sitting on the other side like ducks in a row. The three men had on nearly identical navy blue suits and red ties of varying patterns, as if dressing in unison was a requirement for working at King Architecture.
That had to explain why Lincoln hated the design. Uninspired in attire, uninspired in thinking.
“Sir, we can draw a new—”
“I’m done. You’re done.” Lincoln rose. “Thank you for your time.” He headed out of the conference room, trailed by Conner Paulson, the CFO for Curtis Systems, the security software company Lincoln and his brother had started twelve years ago in the basement of their parents’ home. In one year, the two Curtis brothers had taken Curtis Systems from an idea to a company servicing Fortune 500 firms. Five years later, they were turning down multi-million-dollar buyout offers from international software giants. Lincoln, the elder, had been the CEO, while Marcus, two years younger, had been the vice president.
Now he had the company he’d always dreamed of, one that was even bigger than he’d dreamed. Perfect in every respect—
Except for the empty office beside his own. The one that mocked the very success Linc had worked so hard to build. But now he knew nothing else, and had nothing else. So the company got all of Lincoln Curtis, and then some.
“The architects gave you exactly what you said you wanted,” Conner said, falling into stride beside Lincoln as they headed down the wide hallway toward Lincoln’s office. “What’s changed since you met with them last quarter and now?”
“Nothing.”
Conner snorted. “Are you kidding me? Everything’s different about you lately.”
Lincoln stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to stick to the same song you’ve been giving me for the last two months. That nothing’s on your mind. That you’re just fine.” Conner mocked talking with his hand. “This is me, Linc. I’ve known you since first grade. And you are so far from fine you’re on another planet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Conner sighed. “Listen, I wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t your best friend, and hadn’t known you forever. But for years you’ve been…”
“What?” Lincoln prodded.
“Well, you took your brother’s death pretty hard. We all did,” Conner added. “But you especially. And I don’t blame you. If I’d been there—”
“Do we need to have this conversation?”
Conner opened his mouth, shut it again. “No.”
“Good.”
“All I’m saying is that for a long time you’ve been a robot. Getting the job done, working like a maniac. Except for that one vacation—”
“I thought we weren’t having this conversation.”
“Then after that…” Conner paused, his gaze softening in sympathy. “Afterwards, you went back to being the same old Linc. No one could blame you, really, but—”
“Drop it,” Linc said, his voice a warning. Conner was his best friend, but even with him Linc didn’t journey back to that day three years ago.
Conner let out a gust that voiced concession to the change of topic. “Lately…I don’t know, you just seem to have a new attitude. A good one, I might add. Like with the idea you proposed a couple months ago about that software for kids—”
“An idea that you and the other suits shot down if I remember right,” Linc pointed out. “And you were right. I shouldn’t be running off, pursuing crazy ideas that could just end up draining company resources instead of adding to the coffers.”
For a moment, he’d thought maybe—
Maybe he could bring back something he’d lost by digging up a bit of the past. So he’d floated the idea, then come to his senses when the number crunchers smacked it down.
“Hey, maybe someday that program can work, Linc, sure, but honestly, I don’t see you finding the time for anything more. Don’t you agree?” Conner laid a hand on his arm. “You’re the most tightly scheduled guy I know. Not to mention…”
“What?” Linc asked when Conner didn’t finish.
“As much as I think it would be terrific for you to step out of your comfort zone of memos, day planners and task lists, I’m just not sure launching a kid-oriented product like that is up your particular alley.”
“Because I’m not fun,” Linc replied, reading the words Conner wasn’t speaking.
“Let’s just say when I’m looking for a partner in crime for hosting a wild party, your name isn’t at the top of my list.” Conner grinned. “But I’d still send you an invitation.”
Linc let out a short laugh. If only Conner knew how far Linc had stepped out of his world of schedules and memos that night two months ago.
In his mind, he saw the image of Molly—Linc didn’t know her last name, by agreement with both of them—smiling up at him as she lay back on the pale cream-colored sheets of the Bellagio’s luxurious king-sized bed. Her dark brown hair tumbling around her shoulders, her green eyes wide and sparkling, her lithe body still tempting even after he’d spent so many exquisite moments exploring, tasting and enjoying every inch.
For one night, Linc had been someone other than himself.
“What made you propose the idea in the first place?” Conner asked. “It just came out of the blue.”
They had reached the glass corridor that connected the twin towers of Curtis Systems, and provided a stunning view of downtown Vegas. On either side of him, the city flashed a constant rainbowed heartbeat of activity. “It’s something I’ve been kicking around for years.”
A lie. But telling the truth meant opening wounds Linc preferred not to open.
Two months ago he’d looked at the date and realized it was his brother’s birthday. If he had lived, Marcus would have been twenty-six this year.
And Linc hadn’t moved one inch closer in all those years to finishing the software program that had been the genesis of everything for Curtis Systems. The first dream he and his brother had shared.
He’d sat in his empty apartment for hours, revisiting past mistakes and regrets. And then, finally, spurred by nostalgia, regrets or maybe something more, he’d gone out, headed to one of the bars in Vegas—
And ended up sleeping with a woman he barely knew.
“There’s something else, though,” Conner said. “Something you’re not telling me.”
Linc met his friend’s inquisitive stare. “I met someone.”
A flicker of surprise flashed across Conner’s face. “Great. You’ve been alone too long. So who is she? And why didn’t you bring her to the benefit dinner last week?” Conner flashed him a grin. “You hiding her in your apartment?”
“I don’t know where she is. I don’t even know her last name. And that’s where I’m leaving things.”
That one night with Molly was enough. The last thing he needed was a relationship, not just because of the distraction it would provide, but because of the expectations involved. A woman in his life would want time. Energy. And that would divide him between the company and his personal life. Right now, that was a division problem he couldn’t solve.
Conner stumbled to a stop. He grabbed Lincoln’s arm. “You had a one-night stand?
You?
”
“It wasn’t just a one-night stand. It was…” Lincoln searched for the words to describe that night two months ago. The intoxicating magic of the woman he had met, how she had brought out a side of him he had thought he’d lost three years ago, how she had made him forget—
Forget who he was. Forget the burdens he’d carried for so long. Forget his guilt, his regrets. Forget the Curtis empire, and its expectations. For one night, he could just…be.
“It was so much more,” Lincoln finished. “At least until I got back to reality.”
In the two months since he’d seen Molly, he had tried to forget her by pouring himself into his work. By tightening an already tight schedule, filling already full days. Developing expanded product lines, pushing his team to create newer and more improved systems than the company already had.
Yet a part of him kept going back to that night, to those questions neither of them had asked, because they’d agreed never to know the answers. Was that all this was? A puzzle he needed to solve?
“Either way, it doesn’t matter. The night’s over. In the past.” As he said the words, he cemented his resolve to keep the memory there. He had no room for a relationship right now.
He, of all people, could not afford a distraction like that. He had only to look at the empty office beside his own to remember why.
“If it’s so ‘in the past,’” Conner said, using air quotes, “then why is she still on your mind?”
“She’s not.” Linc scowled.
Conner looked at Linc. And chuckled. “Uh-huh.”
Lincoln gazed out over the city, at the miles and miles of brightly lit buildings, stucco-coated homes, and beyond that, the vast, empty desert. Vegas stuck out among all the nothingness like a wild rose in a field of plain, practical wheat. How apropos, really, of the way he lived his personal life. That one night had been an aberration—and that was the way it would stay.
Lincoln Curtis lived his life in straight lines. It was the only way he knew to maintain control. To keep himself from thinking of the promises he’d made so many years ago. Promises he had broken.
Linc pivoted away from the window and faced Conner. “The past is over, Conner. I’m all about focusing on the future. And my future is contained inside this business.”
M
OLLY
sat in her car and cried.
No job. No husband for support. No possibility of either in the near future.
And a baby on the way.
If she could have written a script for her life, she couldn’t have imagined a worse ending for this day. Within two hours, her entire world had been turned upside down.
Lack of funding…positions cut…difficult decision to make…we’re so sorry…wish you well…
She could still see the faces of the administration officials as they told her they were letting her go, with the promise that if funding improved, she would be the first kindergarten teacher hired back—
Next fall.
From there, she’d gone to her doctor’s office, sure he’d tell her she’d misread the pink lines, or bought a faulty kit, or had a hormonal spike. Instead, Dr. Carter had walked back into the examination room, a wide smile on his face. “Wonderful news, Molly. You’re pregnant!”
She’d started to cry. She’d cried while he wrote her a prescription for prenatal vitamins, while she made her next appointment, and all the way home.
Oh, God. What was she going to do? How was she going to deal with this?
It still didn’t seem real. Didn’t seem possible. The words
you’re pregnant
swirled again in her head, and sounded like they had been spoken to someone else.
Pregnant.
Now she sat in her driveway, allowed the last few tears to fall, then wiped her face and made some decisions.
Number one. She needed a job. She had a mortgage, and even though Jayne was paying rent, without the regular income from teaching, very soon there wasn’t going to be enough money to pay all the bills. Not to mention the need for health insurance to cover her pregnancy. In seven months, Molly would have another life to provide for, and that meant putting aside as much money as she could between here and then.
Another life.
The words hit her again, and she still couldn’t quite comprehend her situation. A baby.
The one thing she had dreamed about for so many years, imagined having when she’d married Doug—
But then Doug had made it infinitely clear children weren’t on his agenda, not now, not later, not ever. That had been the beginning of the end for them, the moment when she’d realized she’d married a man who didn’t share any of her dreams for the future.
Now she had the future she wanted. Except she was alone. And about to become penniless. Not the dream she’d envisioned. How could she, of all people, have ended up in this position?
She’d always been so careful with her life, so conservative. The one time she’d stepped out of those boundaries she’d ended up pregnant, alone and unemployed.
Boy, karma had a heck of a sense of humor.
Molly sighed. She reached for another tissue in her purse and faced issue number two.
The baby’s father.
She might not want to see him again, might want to pretend that night in Vegas never happened, but she couldn’t.
She had to tell him. Somehow. And sometime in the next few months.
How would Linc react? She didn’t know him well enough to predict how he ordered his coffee in the morning, much less something as huge as this.
Oh, what had she done?
Either way, whether he wanted anything to do with the baby or not, she had to know, if only for the baby’s sake, who this man was. What if there was a medical problem? What if their child asked her a question someday down the road?
She thought back to that crazy, heady night two months ago. Did Linc ever think of her? Did he ever wonder whether there had been consequences to their temporary insanity? If he saw her again, what would he do? Say? He’d probably forgotten all about her, and if he saw her again wouldn’t even remember her name, much less what had happened between them.
With a man that handsome, in a city like Las Vegas, the chances were good that he had dozens of women in his life. Molly could have just been one more in a long string of quick dates.
Or not.
She had no idea what kind of man he really was because they’d agreed to keep everything easy, fun. No personal details, no heart-to-heart connections, no relationship-building.
Did she want to see him again? That was a bigger question. Did she really want to face her dumbest decision again? No.
But wanting to and
having
to were two totally different things.
And finally, decision number three.
She needed to keep this entire situation to herself for as long as possible, until she had it all figured out. She could just imagine her mother’s reaction—she’d be calling Doug and trying to fix Molly back up with her ex-husband, regardless of whether the two of them should be together or not or whether he wanted anything to do with children. Never mind a child that wasn’t even his.
Yeah, she was not going to tell anyone about this. Not until she had to.
Molly got out of her car and headed into the house. Rocky greeted her with the same enthusiasm as always, licking, barking, jumping all over his mistress. She let him out, then went back into the living room to dump her tote bag and purse on the scarred maple coffee table. Jayne was at work, so Molly had the house to herself and had some more time to process the day. Thank goodness.
As she passed her desk in the corner of the living room, she glanced at her desktop computer. Her gaze strayed to the stack of software piled beside the monitor.
Software.
Linc.
That night in the bar.
No…that was a crazy idea. Absolutely crazy. One that could lead to heartbreak, especially if Linc said he didn’t remember her, or their conversation about the software product he wanted to launch. Then again, could the idea be any crazier than the one that had gotten her into this situation in the first place?
The dry Vegas air slammed into Molly as soon as she got out of the taxicab. The August heat seemed to weigh on her, like a thick, suffocating blanket. Dry or not—it was hot.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” she asked the cab driver.
The older man at the wheel of the car gestured toward the towering glass buildings, twin mirrors of each other, connected by an all-glass skybridge. The building was impressive, with neat linear lines and a clean silver-and-glass exterior, a stark contrast to the colorful noise of the Vegas strip a little ways behind them. “Curtis Systems, yes, ma’am. Can’t miss it.”
Molly thanked and paid the driver. She stepped into the shadow of the Curtis Systems building, dwarfed by the twenty-plus stories above her. Now that she was finally here, trepidation held her rooted to the spot.
She should go home. Forget the whole idea. Come up with another plan.
Except there wasn’t really another plan, at least not one that could solve both the job and getting to know the father of her baby dilemma all at once.
She just hadn’t expected that the Linc she met in a bar two months ago was
this
Linc.
When she’d search the Internet for Linc, with what little information she had, she’d come back with two different possibilities for software companies in Las Vegas. There’d been many software companies, of course, but only two that returned results with an employee named Linc. The first was no longer in business—all she’d found had been a weedy lot with a “For Sale” sign. That left Curtis Systems.
The company name had returned hundreds of Google hits, link after link showing the meteoric rise of the company’s success. Google hadn’t lied. She peered up at the monolith of a building. A success story on a mega level. And, according to the information she’d read on the Internet, Linc didn’t just work here—he was the owner and CEO.
The man she’d met, the one who seemed so…normal, so guy-next-door, was the same one at the helm of this massive, multi-national, multi-million-dollar corporation?
Again she considered turning around, heading back to San Diego. Then her hand drifted to her stomach, to the new life growing inside her, and she knew she had to go inside that building.
Not just for the job she needed, but for her baby.
Only two days had passed since she’d taken that first pregnancy test, and already she’d come to call this life “her baby.” To picture the tiny boy or girl someday living in the little bungalow on Gull View Lane. And to look forward to that event.
People streamed in and out of the Curtis Systems building. Molly fanned herself, and realized she looked a little strange standing on the sidewalk, just staring up at the skyscraper. She couldn’t stand here baking in the heat all day. At least the morning sickness had finally abated today. She strode into the building, across the smooth marble foyer, and up to the granite counter reception desk. A friendly-looking blonde finished transferring a phone call, then shot Molly a smile. “Good morning. Can I help you?”
“I’d like to see Linc…” Molly paused, then pulled his last name together with his first, the two words sounding strange on her tongue. “Lincoln Curtis, please.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
The friendliness quotient dropped a little from the blonde’s features. “I’m sorry, miss, but Mr. Curtis is a very busy man. Without an appointment…” She put her hands up, implying it was a lost cause.
Appointment?
How was she supposed to get an appointment? What was she supposed to say?
Hi, I’m the woman you met in a bar for a one-night stand. I really need to see you again, can you spare ten minutes?
Chances were good he wouldn’t even remember that night, not to mention her. How horrible would
that
be?
“I spoke with Mr. Curtis a couple months ago about a possible position with his company,” Molly said, partially lying, partially telling the truth. They had talked two months ago, and he had made an offhand comment about her working for him, but she hadn’t been sure he was serious. “He said if I was ever in town, I should stop by.”
The blonde raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Mr. Curtis said that?”
Molly nodded. Added a smile.
The blonde considered that, giving Molly a visual once-over, as if her icy blue eyes were lie detectors. “Is he expecting you?”
No. “Yes, I believe so.”
The blonde assessed Molly again, then turned to her computer and struck a few keys. “According to the schedule I have here, Mr. Curtis should be just finishing up a meeting. He has six minutes until the next one, and then he’s booked solid for the rest of the day.”
“Are you sure? He doesn’t have fifteen free minutes?”
The blonde laughed. “You don’t know Mr. Curtis very well. He rarely takes enough time to eat lunch.” Then her face softened. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but if you head up to his office on the twentieth floor, you might be able to catch him between meetings. If not, see Tracy, his assistant. She can schedule a time for you to speak with him. Like I said, he’s a very busy man, so be prepared to wait several days for an appointment.”
Molly prayed she wouldn’t have to wait days. She didn’t want to spend the money on a hotel room, only to have the whole thing not work out. She needed every dime she had, and every day she could get, to be looking for a job. Wasting time waiting on Lincoln Curtis wasn’t on her agenda.
“Thank you,” Molly said to the receptionist, then headed for the elevators. At first, her steps were light, filled with the thrill of victory. But as the elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, she realized where she was going.
And who she was about to see.
The marble and brass elevator began its upward journey with a soft whirr. Molly’s stomach, however, dropped, and her queasiness returned, whether due to nerves or the baby or both. What if Linc didn’t remember her? Or said he’d been kidding about the job offer? Or turned out to be married?
Or worse, told her to leave?
She reached out a hand to press another button, any other button, then stopped herself. She had to do this. Had to find a way to tell him about the baby—it was only right.
And more, to satisfy her own lingering curiosity about the man she had met. They’d agreed to keep the night free from connections, but still she wondered about him. About what he was like on a longer-term basis.
What if they’d had two nights? A week? A year?
The elevator shuddered to a stop, and the doors opened on the twentieth floor. Molly took a deep breath, then strode forward. She hesitated in the hall. Right? Left? She should have asked.
“Molly?”
The voice, deep, dark, like good chocolate, hit her as hard as the memory. Sitting in the bar, intoxicated not by the barely touched mixed drink in front of her, but by the conversation, by the way he looked at her and really seemed to see her. Listen to her.
Molly turned around, and there he was. Linc. Looking exactly—well, almost exactly—like he had that night.
He stood in the hall beside a cherry-paneled door labeled “Conference Room,” a second man she barely noticed by his side. All she saw was Linc, wearing a tailored navy suit that on another man would have looked merely handsome. But on Linc, the suit gave him an air of power. At his full six-foot-two height, he commanded the wide hallways of Curtis Systems.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Now or never. She took a step forward. “Looking for you.”
Surprise lit his features. The man beside him looked from Molly to Linc, then back again, clearly curious. With an almost imperceptible flick of his hand, Linc dismissed the other man, who shot Linc a grin, then said something about a meeting and headed off down the corridor.
“Why?” Linc said, taking a step forward and lowering his voice. “I thought we agreed not to see each other again.”
Whatever Hollywood reunion she’d secretly hoped to have, with Linc being glad to see her, deflated in that moment, in the neutral tone in his voice. Molly’s hand strayed protectively to her abdomen, and she decided there was no way she was going to drop the pregnancy bombshell. Not now. “You were actually the one who told me to look you up if I ever got to Vegas again. Well, I’m in Vegas…and looking you up.”