Nate reached into the pocket of his suit jacket. Wordlessly, he handed over a piece of cream-colored stationery. Brooke opened it and read:
Dear Nate,
Landry needs a man he can look up to in his life. I know I have no right to ask you this after the way our engagement ended, but please put the past aside and be the family to my son that my grandmother Jessalyn and I can no longer be. And if you can’t do that, I trust you to find someone who can give Landry all the care and attention he is going to need in the years ahead.
I never stopped loving you. Seraphina.
Finished, Brooke handed the letter back. It was obvious Seraphina had really looked up to Nate, despite whatever had transpired to break them up. “Why didn’t she ask you to do this before she died?”
Nate’s tone grew turbulent. “Probably because she didn’t know how I’d feel or what I’d do. When she knew me, I was all-career, all the time.”
“And yet she trusted you either to be the father Landry needed or to find one for him.”
“What can I say?” The emotion in Nate’s eyes dissipated and he flashed a charming grin. “I’m a trustworthy guy.”
What wasn’t he telling her? Brooke wondered. Did it have anything to do with the reason Nate and Seraphina had stopped communicating and made little or no effort to remain friends after their breakup?
Brooke studied Nate, the mother in her coming to the fore. “Are you sure you want to take this on?” Landry had already weathered a lot of loss. Nate had no experience with children, and gallantry, no matter how well intentioned, took a potential parent only so far.
He nodded, his blue eyes serious. “In the end Seraphina and I may not have been right for each other, but I loved her, too, and always will. And I know I can—and will—love her son.”
“YOU’VE GOT TO BE kidding me!” Cole said, when Brooke picked him up at day camp several hours later. He regarded her with all the disdain a thirteen-year-old boy could muster. “What about the promise you made to me about not taking on any more ridiculously demanding clients and ‘restoring balance’ to our life?”
Brooke had meant it at the time. She still did. “I had to take this job,” she explained.
She eased away from the carpool line and pulled out onto the street. Her minivan picked up speed as she drove. “Because the circumstances were extenuating—and Alexis McCabe asked me to do it, as a special favor. And I owe her … you know that.” Brooke let out a beleaguered sigh.
“Not only was she one of my very first customers, after your dad died. She helped me get my business off the ground, with tons of referrals.” To the point Brooke was now doing only big projects, with unlimited budgets.
“I liked it better when your clients weren’t so rich they felt they could ask you to do anything and you’d have to say yes.”
So had Brooke, in the sense that she hadn’t felt so pressured. That the more prestigious jobs brought better pay … well, she was happy with that. “I know. And if my last client hadn’t canceled the job abruptly—”
“When you refused to fly to Paris to look at fabric.”
Brooke nodded. That client had been outrageously demanding—and unreasonable. “I guess it all worked out for the best. If I’d abided by his wishes, I wouldn’t have unexpectedly had two weeks open … or been able to take this job with Nate Hutchinson.” She couldn’t help smiling. Now I’m going to get paid double my usual rate for two weeks!
“This Hutchinson guy … he’s an important dude?”
Brooke glanced at her son. As usual, Cole looked relaxed and content after a day spent alternately learning cool stuff and playing in the summer sunshine. He was dressed in a yellow camp T-shirt with a computer emblazoned on the front, khaki cargo shorts and sneakers. That day’s athletic activity had been swimming, so his blond hair was wet and smelled of chlorine.
“One of the most high-profile businessmen in Fort Worth,” she confirmed.
“And he knows a lot about money.”
“Apparently so, judging by the success of his financial services company.”
Cole sighed. “Yeah, well … I still don’t want to live in some guy’s house!”
Nor did Brooke, to tell the truth. But every time she remembered the look on Landry’s face, she thought about her own experiences in foster care—what it had felt like to get shunted around to places you didn’t know, with people you’d never met—and her heart went out to him. She knew she could help him adjust. And if doing so eventually repaid the universe’s kindness to her …
“It’s actually a caretaker’s cottage, and it’s a rush job. The only way I’ll get it done in the time allotted is if I’m at the Hutchinson estate day and night for the next two weeks. And if I’m there till all hours and you’re at our place …”
Cole grabbed the half-finished sport drink from his backpack and unscrewed the top. His golden-brown eyes were wiser than his years. “We’ll never see each other.”
“Right.” Brooke turned onto the entrance ramp that would take them to the freeway. “I know you’re at camp all day. But I still like hanging around with you during the evenings, even when I have to spend part of that time working.”
Cole ripped open the wrapper on an energy bar. “If I’m a good sport about this, you’re going to owe me.”
Brooke had no problem putting the carrot ahead of the stick. Incentives were a great way to motivate people into going the extra mile. She smiled at her boyishly handsome son. “What would you like?”
Cole beamed and bartered resolutely, “A whole day at the Six Flags amusement park in Arlington! We’re there when the park opens and we stay until we see the fireworks. Deal?”
Brooke consented with a nod, glad to have come to some accord. “Deal. But it’s going to have to wait until I finish the job,” she cautioned.
He wiped the oatmeal crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Or sooner, if you get a day off before then.”
Brooke wouldn’t count on that. She had just met the man, but … “Mr. Hutchinson can be quite the slave driver.”
“You can sweet-talk him into letting you have a day off next weekend. You can sweet-talk anybody, Mom.”
Brooke knew that was true. But only to a point. “And there is one more thing,” she added, turning into the neighborhood of palatial estates Fort Worth’s wealthiest citizens called home.
“Uh-oh,” Cole said. “I know that look….”
Brooke tried to focus on the positive. “Mr. Hutchinson has a boy your age who is just now coming to live with him. Landry’s mom died a year and a half ago, so he’s having a hard time.” Briefly, she explained what had transpired.
Cole fell silent, no doubt thinking about the death of his own father two years before, and the grief he had endured.
Finally, he asked, “Was Landry’s great-grandmother nice when you met her?”
“Very nice. She’s just too old and too ill to care for him.” Brooke turned into the drive. She keyed in the pass code that Nate had given her before she left. The electric gates opened.
“Wow,” Cole murmured, sitting up in his seat. “This is rich!”
At