“God, I hope not,” Sherrie murmured fervently. “By the time Christmas gets here I might not be needing the gray hair. I’ll have enough of my own.”
She thought she heard him chuckle as she closed the door behind her but she couldn’t be sure. She only knew that she would give anything to hear Matthew Blanchard laugh out loud, and to be the one who caused it.
The sooner she started work on her quest for Lucy’s mother, the better, she told herself as she walked through the department store. Matthew Blanchard did strange things to her senses.
If he wasn’t quite so pompous and patronizing, she might even be tempted to forget her convictions about men in general. And that would be a disastrous mistake. Horrified with her treacherous mind, she hurried back to her seat in the Christmas display.
All that afternoon, when she wasn’t chatting to the children, Sherrie racked her brains trying to come up with a suitable candidate for Lucy’s mother.
What she really needed, she decided, was more information about Matthew Blanchard. Since he would be a primary factor in the success of her plan, she needed to know what kind of woman might appeal to him.
The line of children had abated and her shift was almost over when Sherrie saw her impervious boss heading in her direction with Lucy in tow. Apparently his daughter was checking up on her request.
Sherrie smiled when the serious little girl climbed onto her lap. The child looked enchanting in a pleated red tartan skirt worn over white tights. The ensemble was completed with a white sweater, decorated with an appliquéd black Scottish terrier. Someone knew how to dress a child, Sherrie thought as she settled the child into the crook of her arm.
“Hello, Lucy,” she said, “It’s very nice to see you again.”
Lucy glanced over at her father, who stood a few feet away, watching his daughter with a worried expression on his face. After a moment’s hesitation, Matt stepped up to the platform and said in an urgent voice, “It’s pretty quiet out here now. Could you keep an eye on her for a few minutes? I have an important call to make.”
Sherrie nodded, wondering what could be important enough to make him leave his daughter in her charge. Considering his opinion of her capabilities, she thought sourly, he was taking quite a chance.
“Did you find a mommy yet?” Lucy asked, after her father strode away.
Sherrie shook her head, hating the disappointment it caused in the child’s big blue eyes. “I haven’t had much time to look around yet, sweetheart. We are looking for a very special lady, here.”
Lucy dug her hands into her lap. “We just want someone to love us,” she said, in a small voice.
“I know, honey, and I will find that special lady, I promise. But it might take me a little while.”
“Will you find her before Christmas?”
“I’ll do my best,” Sherrie said warily, “but I can’t really promise. It might take me longer than that. You want to be sure we have the right mommy, don’t you?”
Lucy nodded. She was silent for a moment or two, then looked earnestly up at Sherrie. “We need a mommy to cook the dinner for Christmas.”
“You do?” Sherry smiled. “Who usually cooks your dinner?”
“Mrs. Halloway. She lives in our house and cooks the dinner for us.”
Mrs. Halloway was most likely the person who had dressed Lucy in that adorable outfit. Sherrie felt a small twinge of anxiety. Had Matt already chosen his next wife? If so, Lucy obviously wasn’t happy about it. “Well, I’m sure Mrs. Halloway can cook you a lovely Christmas dinner,” she said carefully. “Just like a mommy.”
Lucy shook her head so hard her curls bounced. “Mrs. Halloway is too old to be a mommy. She just cleans the house and cooks for us.”
The housekeeper, Sherrie decided, with a rush of relief. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be happy to cook you a nice dinner for Christmas.”
“She had to go away,” Lucy said, her gaze shifting to the dazzling Christmas tree behind the chair. “She won’t be here for Christmas.”
Now Sherrie could understand the haunted look on Matt’s face. “Is she coming back?” she asked, wondering how Matt was going to manage to take care of the little girl without his housekeeper.
“I dunno.” Lucy pointed at the tree. “Who are the presents for?”
“All the children who’ve been especially good,” Sherrie murmured absently. “Don’t you have an auntie who can cook for you?”
Lucy shook her head.
“Perhaps Daddy has a nice friend who can take care of you.”
Again the blond curls bounced to and fro. “Daddy doesn’t have any friends.”
Daddy’s private life was obviously lacking, Sherrie thought, wondering just how antisocial Matthew Blanchard could be.
“Can you cook dinner?”
The question took Sherrie by surprise. She laughed, and gave the little girl a warm hug. “Of course I can cook. Santa would be very unhappy if he couldn’t enjoy his Christmas dinner.”
“Can you make pancakes and bacon? And basketty?”
Sherrie raised her eyebrows. “Basketty?”
“You know, those long squiggly things. Mrs. Halloway puts them on a plate an…an…pours red stuff over.”
“Spaghetti?” Sherrie suggested, hazarding a guess.
“Yes,” Lucy said impatiently. “That’s what I said. Basketty.”
“I can cook basketty,” Sherie said solemnly. “And hamburgers and meat loaf and chocolate cream pie.”
“I wish you could come and cook for us,” Lucy said, her voice wistful.
Sherrie stared at the little girl. That wasn’t such a bad idea. That way she would be right inside the lion’s den, so to speak. The perfect place to learn more about Matthew Blanchard. It would be that much easier to introduce him to someone, if she could invite them to his home. Not only that, she wouldn’t have to go back to Tom’s dreadfully lonely apartment every night.
Of course, she told herself, it would only be temporary, until she found someone suitable for Lucy. In the meantime she could take her time looking around for a new apartment.
In the next instant, she gave herself a mental shake. What on earth was she thinking? First of all, after that fiasco with Henry the Hellion, Matt wasn’t likely to trust his daughter to her care full-time. Secondly, she was working at the store until Christmas. She couldn’t be in two places at once.
What worried her the most was the excitement she’d felt at the thought of being in the same house as Matthew Blanchard. That was dangerous, and she had better stop this nonsense right away, she told herself.
Not only was Matt way out of her league, but she was also not about to risk having her heart broken again. Not by anyone. Certainly not by a sophisticated, experienced charmer like Matthew Blanchard.
For although he had bent over backward to convince her otherwise, she was quite sure that under the right circumstances, her new boss would be the ultimate in experienced charmers once he set his mind to it. And, much to her dismay, that prospect excited her most of all.
Upstairs in his office, Matt threaded his fingers through his hair. Five phone calls, and nothing. There just wasn’t anyone out there who was willing to take on the job of a temporary live-in housekeeper.