“So are you ready for the big move?” Claudia asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I’m so glad you’re coming to Houston. It’ll be great having you here. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“No second thoughts?”
Lorna had had a lot of second thoughts because she loved her job as CFO of Hathaway Baking Company, and she would miss being close to her brother Bryce and his wife Amy and their children, but none of her reservations had changed her mind.
“No. I still think this is the right thing for me to do. If I hope to meet someone and have any kind of personal life of my own, I need to get out of Morgan Creek.”
“I know.”
Claudia did know. The lack of eligible men in their small hometown was one of the reasons she’d moved away herself a year ago.
“I don’t know, Lorna, I just—”
“What?”
“Well, after all you’ve told me about him, I can’t help worrying that you won’t be able to stand working with Nick DeSanto.”
Lorna grimaced. She was trying not to think about the fact that she would have to interact with Nick DeSanto every day. Nick was the plant manager of the Houston division of Hathaway Baking Company, and a more frustrating man would be hard to find. “I can handle him.”
“You keep saying that, but every time you’ve been around him, he’s managed to get under your skin.”
“I know, but that’s been my fault as much as his. You don’t have to personally like someone to work with them. Bryce says Nick does a first-class job running the plant, and that’s the important thing.”
“And you won’t be working for him.”
“No.” If Lorna had had to work under Nick, this move wouldn’t be happening. But she wouldn’t. She would report directly to the new CFO in Morgan Creek.
Later, in bed for the night, Lorna reminded herself that everything in life was a choice, and that there were always trade-offs to be made. She knew being the combination business manager/office manager at a satellite plant wasn’t comparable to the position she held at the Morgan Creek headquarters of her family’s company, but her job wasn’t going to keep her warm at night, nor would it give her the baby she craved.
Thinking about a baby, she felt the old, familiar ache. She wanted a child more than anything, and her desire had only gotten stronger since the birth of her newest niece six weeks earlier. Lorna had just turned thirty-four, and she knew she didn’t have forever. If she was going to have a baby of her own, she needed to get busy. And the first order of business was finding a man she could love and respect, one who really loved her and who wanted a family as much as she did.
That’s why you’re moving. So stop worrying. You’ve made your decision, and it’s a good one. It might not be easy, but this will work. You’ll make it work. And if Nick DeSanto gives you any trouble, you’ll give him trouble right back.
“So…Nick. What do you think about the Texans chance of makin’ the playoffs this year?”
Nick DeSanto looked at his brother Jay, who was helping himself to meatballs from the serving bowl in the center of the dinner table. “What’d you say?”
Jay frowned. “What’s with you today? You’re a million miles away. That’s about the third time I’ve said something and you haven’t been listening.”
Nick shrugged. “Sorry. I was thinking about work.”
“You’re always thinking about work,” his brother Mike piped in. He twirled his fork in his spaghetti, then lifted the enormous mound to his mouth. Before popping it in, he added, “Give it a rest, why doncha?”
The entire DeSanto family always had Sunday dinner together at the home of Nick’s parents, Mike, Sr., and Carmela, and this Sunday was no exception. Normally Nick liked Sunday afternoons. He could relax and be himself with his family, and his mother was still the best cook in the world. But today he couldn’t manage to stop thinking about the imminent arrival of Lorna Hathaway at the satellite baking company plant where he had been the manager for the past seven years.
Why the hell was she coming to Houston to take a lesser position than the one she’d held at the main office? This was the question that had bugged the hell out of Nick ever since Bryce Hathaway had called him a month ago to tell him his sister Lorna was coming.
You know damn well why she’s coming. For some reason, the Hathaways don’t trust you. She’s coming to spy.
Nick hated thinking this, but what other reason could there be? Or maybe they’re getting ready to push you out and put her in your place. He frowned and drank some of his iced tea.
“Are you having a problem at work, Nicky?” his mother asked. Her blue eyes studied him thoughtfully.
“No, Ma, no problem.” If Nick admitted he was worried about Lorna Hathaway’s arrival at the plant, his mother would worry, too, and he didn’t want that. He was a big boy. He could handle his own problems.
“Are you sure?” she pressed.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“Hey, Nicky, you still dating that Kirsten?”
The question came from Nick’s sister Marie.
He shook his head and ate some of his spaghetti, hoping she’d drop the subject.
No such luck.
“You go through girlfriends the way the kids go through soft drinks,” Marie said.
“Yeah, Nick, when you gonna settle down?” his father said. “Find yourself a nice Italian girl like your mother and have some nice Italian kids?”
Marie started to laugh. “Pop, you’re hilarious. Nicky hasn’t dated an Italian girl since he was in high school.”
She looked as if she wanted to say something else about the women he dated, but her two boys were avidly listening, so Nick figured she’d thought better of it. Jeez, he hated it when his family started in on him.
“Leave Nicky alone,” his mother said. “He’s only thirty-eight. He’s got plenty of time.”
Marie hooted. “Plenty of time! Jeez, Ma, you couldn’t wait for me to get married, and I was barely twenty-three!”
“It’s different for a girl,” Carmela said. Daintily, she cut up her meatball.
“Why is it different?”
Nick stifled a grin. Marie was getting mad, and it amused him. It took so little to fire up his sister’s temper.
“Because in spite of what lots of women think, it’s not so easy to have babies when you’re in your thirties. It’s best to have them by the time you’re twenty-five. That’s when you’re the most fertile.” So saying, Nick’s mother continued eating.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ma. Today women are having babies well into their forties.”
Carmela shook her head. “Not smart, in my opinion. Just think, if you wait till you’re forty to have a baby, you’re almost sixty before he’s out of high school.”
“So?” Marie said.
“So it’s crazy,” her mother retorted. “There’s no way I could cope with a teenager at my age.”
“Ma, you have more energy than me and Rich put together,” Marie said, nudging her husband, who nodded in agreement.
Carmela smiled.
Nick mentally