When his brother, Parker, and Parker’s wife had died in a car accident three months ago, James had been devastated. But in addition to his own grief at losing a loved one he’d deeply respected, he had been struggling with the fact that Parker’s will entrusted James with the care of his son, Teddy. The weight of that responsibility threatened to take his knees out from under him if he allowed himself to dwell on it too long.
“Walker?” James repeated. The stress knot in his back tightened more at the mention of his visitor’s name. Setting aside the putter, he walked closer to the intercom. “As in the woman who ran off without paying her bachelor bid last week?”
How could someone publicly bid money they didn’t have? Or maybe she did have the money, but she just didn’t care to give the $100,000 she promised to the Pancreatic Cancer Research Foundation. Unwilling to risk the bad publicity, especially for an event he’d supervised, he’d ended up covering the debt himself. Better to keep the club out of the papers.
That didn’t mean the matter was settled.
“That was Gail Walker.” The woman at the desk out front lowered her voice. “Maybe Lydia is a relative.”
“Send her in.” He kicked two golf balls under the couch near the window. Lately, he didn’t mind extending his hours on-site at the clubhouse since there was a child care facility in the building and it seemed the one place his nephew was content. At home, Teddy was a handful. And then some.
James strode toward his office door to greet his guest. He hoped she was carrying a big fat check. Because while James hadn’t begrudged spending his personal funds on a worthy cause, he couldn’t help but resent a woman who felt no obligation to uphold a social contract.
Pulling open the office door, he could see he’d startled the woman on the other side.
Tall and slim, she had light brown hair and honey-colored skin that set off wide hazel eyes. She was dressed in khakis and a neat white blouse with a long pink sweater belted at her waist. She had one hand raised as if to knock while she nibbled at her lush lower lip. Her gaze darted anxiously to his.
A wholly unexpected attraction blindsided him.
He stared at her a beat too long.
“Lydia Walker?” He offered his hand belatedly, irritated with himself for the wayward thoughts. “I’m James Harris.”
“Nice to meet you.” Her handshake was cool and firm. Businesslike. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Harris.”
“Please, call me James.” Standing back, he waved her into the office, leaving the door open to the clubhouse behind her. He glanced over toward the double doors leading into the child care facility, half expecting to see Teddy banging on the window. Or a child care worker running for the hills. But all was quiet. Thankfully. Returning his attention to his guest, he said, “Have a seat.”
James gestured to one of the leather chairs near the windows overlooking the garden and swimming pool. The TCC president’s office had been remodeled along with the rest of the historic building. Larger windows and higher ceilings now let in more light, and there were brighter colors in the decor. But the dark hardwood floors and oversize leather furnishings retained the feel of a men’s club from a bygone era. Historic photographs and artifacts from the club’s storied past filled the walls.
For a few hours here each week, he could pretend his life was normal again. That he wasn’t a stand-in father struggling to provide a home for an eighteen-month-old boy who surely felt the absence of his parents, yet was far too young to express himself. Dragging his fractured thoughts back to the appealing woman in his office, James focused on the here and now.
“Can I get you something to drink, Ms. Walker? Coffee or tea? A water?”
“No, thank you. And please call me Lydia.” She set her simple leather handbag on the floor by her feet while he lowered himself into the chair beside hers. “I won’t take up much of your time. I just came to see what I could to do in regard to my sister’s debt. I’ve been out of town, and I only just read the news this morning.”
“Ah.” He nodded, admiring her frank approach. “I appreciate that, Lydia, but I’m not sure how much I’m at liberty to divulge regarding your sister’s…finances.”
He was no expert in the law, but he felt sure that if Gail Walker hadn’t specifically asked her sister to intervene on her behalf, he shouldn’t discuss the woman’s bad debt with her sibling.
“I’m not asking for any information.” Lydia sat forward in her seat, her expression serious. “I already know that Gail couldn’t possibly pay what she promised the charity on the night of the auction. I’m sure she will contact you when she returns from her trip. But until then, I wondered about a potential compromise.”
So much for his hope that Lydia Walker came bearing a check.
“A compromise?” Impatience flared. He wasn’t interested in a nominal payment toward the balance. “This isn’t a credit card debt where you can take out a consolidation loan and suddenly pay less than you owe.”
Lips compressed in a flat line, she straightened in her seat. “And I’m aware of that. But she can’t produce funds she doesn’t have. So I had hoped to give Gail some ideas for what she could do instead. Perhaps donate her time volunteering for the charity in some way?”
Her hazel eyes turned greener as she bristled. The color intrigued him, even as he knew he shouldn’t take any pleasure from her frustration. She’d meant well.
“I see.” He nodded, thinking over her offer. She didn’t know that the charity had already been paid, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to share his own contribution. Instead, he found himself asking, “May I ask your interest in the matter? Why not just let your sister contact us when she returns home?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you have any siblings, James?”
The question cut straight through him, his grief still fresh. “Not as of three months ago.”
The terse sound of the words didn’t begin to convey the ache behind them.
Lydia paled. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea—”
“You couldn’t possibly know.” Stuffing down the rawness of the loss, James stood suddenly, needing to move. He headed toward the minifridge and retrieved two small bottles of water, more for something to do than anything else. Still, he brought one back to Lydia and then cracked open his own. “My brother and his wife died in a car crash this fall. Parker lived on the other side of the state, but we were still close.”
He had no living relatives now except for his nephew. His own mother had died of breast cancer when he was very young, and his father had passed after a heart attack two years ago. The Grim Reaper had been kicking him in the teeth lately, taking those he loved.
Except for Teddy. And James would move heaven and earth to keep that little hellion happy and safe. Even if it meant giving up the boy to his maternal grandparents—an option he was investigating since his schedule didn’t allow the time the boy needed.
“I can’t imagine how difficult that has been.” The concern in her voice, the empathy, was unmistakable. “Most of my brothers and sisters are still back home in Arkansas, but I check in with them often. Gail moved here with me to—start over. I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible for her.”
He wondered why. Lured by curiosity about this beautiful woman, he almost sat back down beside her to continue their conversation. But a noise outside the office—the cadence of urgent voices speaking in low tones—distracted him from replying. He glanced toward the door that opened onto the clubhouse and saw the building’s administrative assistant speaking with one of the women who worked in the child care facility.