Marissa was all the way at the other end of the large room. By the time he had made it over to her, he’d had to change direction three times and felt as if he was trying to catch a butterfly. The toddlers in the class weren’t the only ones with an endless supply of energy.
“Excuse me. Excuse me.” Weaving his way around the last obstacle—a woman with an exuberant twin firmly tethered to each hand—Alec finally managed to get close enough to Marissa to call out to her. “Mrs. Rogers, could I speak to you?”
Her arms full of wiggling child, Marissa turned around. He looked harried, she thought, an amused smile tugging at her mouth. It warmed her heart every time she saw a man taking the trouble to play his role as a father to the fullest. It proved to her that there were good fathers out there, even if neither her father nor Antonio had managed to take on the role with any grace or flare.
“Sure, if you call me Marissa. When you call me Mrs. Rogers, I have this urge to look over my shoulder to see if my mother is standing there.”
With an approving nod, she handed the little boy she was holding to the child’s mother. No sooner were her arms free than Andrea made a grab for her. Without missing a beat, Marissa took the little girl into her arms.
He was amazed at how easily Andrea seemed to take to the woman. It just reinforced his feelings about his decision.
“Then you’re not married?” The question came out of nowhere, nudging aside the one he thought he was going to ask.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. Though she considered herself to be a warm, friendly person, there were certain personal things she was reluctant to share. And what had happened between her and Antonio came under that heading.
Brushing Andrea’s wispy blond hair back from her face, Marissa evaded the question. “Not to my father, no.” Whenever she mentioned or thought of the Sergeant, it always evoked the same image for her. An open suitcase. It seemed as if she’d spent her entire childhood either packing or unpacking one, traipsing around the country because her father had signed his life away to the army.
Andrea seemed bent on restructuring Marissa’s face. Taking the little hand in hers to keep Andrea from widening her mouth, Marissa pressed a kiss to the busy fingers. Andrea cooed. Raising her eyes to Alec’s gaze, Marissa waited for him to continue. “Is that what you wanted to ask me?”
She knew it wasn’t. This wasn’t the kind of place a man came to meet women. Even if it was, he didn’t look like the type. Alec Beckett gave every impression that he was very Ivy League, very businesslike. Even in supposedly casual clothes, he looked ready to leap into a board meeting at a moment’s notice. She wondered what he did for a living and if he ever loosened up.
Alec noticed that Marissa didn’t seem to be distracted by the fact that Andrea was trying to climb up her body. If anything, she appeared to be at ease, as if it was all natural. An admiration for a talent he knew was way beyond him took hold.
“No, um…” Alec surveyed the crowded room. “Could we talk?”
Deftly, Marissa pried childish fingers away from her gold chain, a gift from her brothers and sisters when she graduated high school. It was her one cherished possession.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing now, Mr. Beckett?”
Marissa glanced toward the play area to see how Christopher was doing. Cyndee, a three-month veteran of the class and her self-appointed assistant, was watching over him as well as her own daughter and another child. The hopelessly perky woman was braver than most people here, Marissa mused. Everything seemed to be under control.
“I mean privately.” Alec wasn’t prepared to discuss business with an audience around.
He sounded serious. Marissa wondered if something was bothering him. He wouldn’t be the first parent who had sought her out for a sympathetic ear.
The room was full of parents and babies. It seemed as if each class was larger than the last. Not that she minded; she took it as a compliment. Marissa nodded over to the side.
“I’m afraid that a comer is the best I can do under the circumstances. Unless you want to wait until after class.”
“A corner will do fine.” He wanted her to have some time to think about what he had to propose. If he waited until after class, she might be too tired and automatically turn him down. He didn’t want to be turned down.
Alec followed Marissa. He noticed that several of the mothers were looking at him knowingly, as if the word “novice” were still stamped on his forehead. Sometimes, he had to admit, he felt that way. One year and he was still feeling his way around this maze called fatherhood.
Marissa leaned against the beige wall and looked up at him, waiting.
She had to have the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. So blue that they could have easily made him lose his train of thought. Because he suddenly felt awkward, Alec took his daughter from her. Holding Andrea gave him something to do, somewhere else to look besides her eyes.
Whenever he made presentations, he always strove for a good opening line. He knew the value of capturing his audience’s attention right from the start. But none occurred to him now. Making the best of it, Alec plunged in, stumbling.
“I noticed how good you are with the children.”
Marissa smiled. Where was he going with this? “The job kind of calls for it.” She saw at least three mothers who required her attention. She hoped that whatever Beckett had to say, he’d get to it quickly.
“I was wondering if you’re that good on a one-to-one basis.” This wasn’t going well, he thought.
Marissa turned her head back toward him with a jerk. He had her full attention now. She stared at him, voicing her thoughts aloud.
“Are you hitting on me?” Maybe she hadn’t gotten to be a good judge of character after all.
Completely wrapped up in the dilemma he found himself in, Alec took a moment to fully process her question.
“What?” Talk about wrong impressions. She thought he was trying to pick her up, he realized. Belatedly, he remembered he’d asked her if she was married. What else was she supposed to think? “Oh, no, really.” He’d denied it so adamantly, he knew that he inadvertently was sending out the wrong message. “I mean, not that you’re not pretty, you are. Very. Maybe even beautiful, but—” He stopped abruptly before he managed to make a complete fool of himself. He was hanging by a thread now. Alec’s laugh was rueful. “I’m not saying this very well, am I?”
He had a nice smile, she thought. Not merely a pleasant one, a really nice one. A smile that spoke of sincerity and went straight to the soul. Taking pity on him, she gently eased him off the hook.
“Well, the words pretty and beautiful can’t be held against you, but, no, you’re not.” She saw a woman waving at her to catch her attention. “I’m afraid I have to hurry you along, Mr. Beckett. What is your point?”
Alec felt disgusted with himself. How the hell could a man who could conduct meetings involving several hundred people be so tongue-tied when it came to talking to just one petite woman?
Because he wasn’t in his element, he reminded himself. His element contained software programs, computers. Sterile things, not things that required a sterilized environment. He glanced down at Andrea who was once again attempting to see just how much of his sweater she could stuff into her mouth. With an inward sigh, Alec eased the expensive wool out past tiny pink lips.
Marissa was beginning to edge away. If he didn’t talk quickly, he knew he was going to lose her. “My nanny quit.”
She