A Clandestine Corporate Affair(16)



“When are you going to see him again?”

“He’s stopping over to see Max tomorrow evening around seven.”

“And Max goes to bed at eight-thirty?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, if something was going to happen, it would be after that, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Then why don’t I call you around eight forty-five. That way if you need moral support, I can talk some sense into you.”

She hated to think that she would be that weak, but why take chances? “I think that sounds like a pretty good idea.”

“You’re tough, Ana. You can do this.”

Beth was right. She had been through worse things than this, so why, right now, wasn’t she feeling so tough?





Five





Any time Ana had spent worrying that Max and Nathan might not bond had been a big fat waste.

Max adored Nathan. He’d been utterly fascinated with him since the second Nathan walked in the door, and spending the last two hours watching them play had flat out been the most heartwarming, confusing and terrifying experience of Ana’s life.

For someone who had so little experience with babies, Nathan did everything right. He was gentle and patient, but not afraid to play with Max, who was used to—not to mention lived for—roughhousing with the older kids in the playgroup. “He’s all boy, isn’t he?” Nathan said, his voice full of pride as he swung Max up over his head, making him squeal. He didn’t even seem to mind when Max smashed gluey bits of partially chewed zwieback into his designer shirt, or spilled juice from his sippy cup on Nathan’s slacks.

Nathan was a complete natural with Max. So much so that Ana couldn’t help feeling a bit like the odd man out. Max was so focussed on Nathan, she had ceased to exist. She was actually a little relieved when it was time to put Max to bed. At least she would get a few quality moments with him when she tucked him in, but then Nathan asked if he could help get Max ready for bed. Since the day he came home from the hospital, Max’s bedtime was a ritual that had always been just the two of them. She knew she was completely unjustified in feeling that Nathan was overstepping his bounds. After all, they were supposed to be getting to know one another. Still, she couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. Especially when she got Max changed and into his pajamas, and it was Nathan he reached for to put him into bed. That was tough.

“What should I do now?” Nathan asked her.

“Just lay him in bed and cover him up.” She gave Max a kiss, then watched from across the room as Nathan lay Max, a little awkwardly, into bed, then pulled the blanket up over him.

“Good night, Max,” he said, smiling down at him with the same dimpled grin Max was giving him, and though Ana was dying to walk over to the crib, if only to make sure he was covered and safely tucked in, to kiss him one more time and tell him she loved him, she knew she had to let father and son have this time together.

She’d just had no idea this would be so damned hard.

“Is that it?” Nathan asked.

She nodded and switched off the lamp on his dresser. “He’ll go right to sleep.”

Nathan followed her out of the bedroom and into the living room. Things had gone really well tonight, so why was she on the verge of an emotional meltdown? Why the tears brimming in her eyes?

She was being stupid, that was why. Max was still her baby, still depended on her for everything, and no one could take that from her. Having a daddy in his life didn’t mean Max would love her any less.

“Well,” Nathan said, “he’s a great kid.”

“He is,” she agreed, hoping he didn’t hear the hitch in her voice. She walked to the kitchen to load the dinner dishes into the dishwasher, hoping Nathan would take the hint and leave. Instead he followed her.

“That seemed to go well,” he said, leaning against the counter beside the stove while she stood at the sink, her back to him.

“Really well,” she agreed, blinking back the tears pooling in her eyes. Stop it, Ana, you’re being ridiculous. Was she PMSing or something? She never got this emotional. She was tougher than this.

He was quiet for a minute then asked, “Ana, is something wrong?”

“Of course not,” she said, the squeak in her voice undeniable that time, as was the tear that spilled over onto her cheek. My God, she was acting like a big baby. She had learned a long time ago that crying would get her nowhere. Her father had no tolerance for emotional displays.

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