“When I first met Nick and Molly, they still had that shocked appearance most trauma victims have. Ashen-faced with haunted eyes. They were passive, almost apathetic in their grief. Clutching one another and not really speaking to anyone else for the first week. Friends of the family and some neighbors made funeral arrangements on Walker’s instructions. He’s the family lawyer.”
An expression of such contempt crossed his face that Tess had to comment. “What is it between you and Jed Walker? On the phone yesterday you made some negative comment about him, too.”
“It’s a long story and it’s personal so I guess I’d better stick to the facts here. Until a week ago, Walker didn’t know you even existed.” He paused, adding, “Which means, of course, that you weren’t mentioned in the will.”
“I’d have been more than surprised if I had been.”
His eyes fixed on hers a moment longer before he continued. “Right. So when the kids learned about you, they saw you as a lifeline. Someone to keep them together.”
Dry-mouthed, Tess sipped the dregs of her latte and searched frantically for the response she knew he was waiting for. C’mon girl. Pretend you’re negotiating a price for an ad campaign. He’s a social worker from Colorado. How hard can it be to convince him the kids are better off where they are?
“You have to understand—”
“Oh, I do,” he interrupted. “For twenty-five years you’ve lived under the impression that Richard Wheaton was gone for good. In less than forty-eight hours you discover that not only has he just recently died, but he’s also left behind two children who happen to be your half brother and sister. Who also happen to be minors.”
Tess frowned. Was he implying she was legally bound? “I don’t think there’s a law, is there? That I have to take them in?”
Alec leaned back against his chair. Tess winced at the pitying look he flashed her.
“No,” he said, his voice so low she had to lean forward to hear. “I doubt it. Although I think there’s definitely a moral responsibility.”
“If they need money,” she rushed to say, “I can certainly help with that.”
He shook his head from side to side. The pitying look shifted to one of utter despair. As if, she thought, he’d given up on her.
“They have money, too. The estate is worth quite a lot. Another reason why they need family to supervise things, rather than some hotshot lawyer like Jed Walker.”
“Then…”
“They need a family, Tess. They need to feel part of something. Their whole lives have been blown apart. Molly’s only six years old.”
Tess stiffened. “I was barely eight when my father left. I know what it feels like.”
“But you had a mother.”
“A mentally ill mother. I practically raised myself.”
He blew out a mouthful of air and forked his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in thick clumps. “We’re getting off track here. The point of the matter is that unless you intervene—become their legal guardian—those two kids will be split up and could eventually lose each other completely. Molly has a good chance of being adopted, but Nick…few people are willing to take on a boy just entering his teens.”
Exactly what Nick had said, Tess realized. Still, she couldn’t let the fact influence her. The matter had to be settled. She straightened up, ready for the negotiation. “Look,” she began. “About six months ago I was promoted to Vice President of Marketing at the company where I work. It’s a demanding job. I work basically anywhere from ten to twelve hours a day. I take work home and spend most weekends working.”
She paused to let that register, but he didn’t look impressed. “I couldn’t physically be there for them, much less emotionally. Frankly, they’d be better off in a family context, even if an adoptive one.”
“Family context?” He sneered. “Sounds like something out of a sociology textbook.”
Tess felt her face heat up, but decided to play her next card. “I’d be willing to visit once or twice a year.”
“Wonderful. That should really keep the family context concept alive and kicking.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm. I thought we were trying to negotiate something here. To nail down a deal.”
Alec rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “Omigod, you really do see it that way, don’t you?”
She had a sense of floundering in deep water. It was an unfamiliar feeling—that she might be handling the matter all wrong—and she couldn’t think of a smart comeback.
“Doesn’t it occur to you,” he went on, “that sometimes we have to give things up for the sake of others? That we have to put on hold our own dreams so that we can help out someone else?”
Tess drew a blank. Was he talking about her or himself? “Are you asking me—”
“To give up some of that time. Yes! A good nanny can manage the daily routines, but take off one day a week and the weekends.”
Blood pounded in her ears. “I can’t possibly do that,” Tess said. “My job is all I have.”
The persuasion in his face vanished. He shook his head sadly. “God,” he said in a low voice. “I’m so very sorry for you. Your own childhood experience has obviously made it impossible for you to look at this situation another way.”
Tess bristled at the pity in his voice. “Apparently you are unable to view this in any other way yourself.” And that, Tess realized, pretty much ended the conversation.
NICK TURNED off the television as soon as they entered the condo. He took one look at them and slumped back into the couch cushions. Guessing, Alec figured, that no decision had been made. Or no deal, as Tess would have put it. He felt sick at the thought of breaking the news to the kids, but then realized at once that he wasn’t going to give up so easily. Their return flight to Denver wasn’t until four o’clock the next day. He still had a little more than twenty-four hours to convince Tess Wheaton it was in her best interests to basically rearrange her whole life.
Yeah, right. In spite of her damn good looks, she was definitely no pushover. Not as soft inside as she appeared on the out. And no wonder, given the childhood snapshot she’d shown him. Still, that was no excuse for shirking one’s duty to family. That was something he himself had finally learned, after a rocky adolescence and reality-checking career in the armed forces. The one thing you could count on at the end of a long hard day—whether your job was slugging it out in a factory or dropping bombs for NATO—was family. So maybe Tess Wheaton didn’t know that yet, but there was no reason why she couldn’t learn.
“Okay, guys,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as hollow as it felt. “Ready to hit the arcades?” He saw Tess frown, not knowing what he meant. Maybe afraid she’d have to get involved in yet another project. Just itching to turn that laptop back on again. He felt a surge of anger, but stifled it. That wasn’t the way he’d win the battle.
“Before we went out for coffee,” he explained, “I told Nick I’d take him and Molly to play some games.”
She looked blank.
“You