A Clandestine Corporate Affair (3 page)

An uncharacteristic show of anger hardened his expression. “I imagine you'll be expecting child support as well,” he said, jaw tense.

He just didn't get it. He thought she was being obtuse, but this wasn't about the money, or a need to manipulate him. This was all about Max and what
he
needed. “Keep your money. We don't need it.”

“He's my child and my financial responsibility.”

“You can't buy your way into his life, Nathan. He's not for sale. If you can't be there for him emotionally, for the long haul, you're out of the game. That's nonnegotiable.”

She could see he wasn't thrilled with her direct approach, or her list of demands, but that was too damned bad. Parenting was tough, and either he was in or he was out. He couldn't do it halfway.

“I guess I have a lot to think about,” Nathan said.

“I imagine you do.” She rose from the chair, prompting him to do the same. “When you've made a decision, then you can see Max.”

He pulled himself to his feet, looking irritated, and maybe a little shell-shocked. The enormity of what she was asking from him was not lost on her. Being responsible for another human being, knowing she would shape Max into the adult he would one day become, was terrifying and emotionally exhausting…and the most rewarding thing she had ever done or even imagined doing.

Until Nathan understood that and accepted it, he wouldn't get within fifty feet of Max.

“I need some time to think about this,” Nathan said.

“I understand. And I want you to know that whatever you decide is okay with me. I would love for Max to know his father, but I don't want you to feel pressured into something you're not ready for. I can do this on my own.”

He walked to the door and shrugged into his jacket, glancing down the hall to the bedrooms. For a second she thought he might ask to see him again, but he didn't. “Can I call you?” he asked.

“My number hasn't changed.” He would know that if he had bothered to contact her in the past eighteen months.

He paused at the door, hand on the knob, and turned
back to her. “I am sorry for the way things worked out between us.”

But not sorry enough to want her back in his life, she thought as he walked to his car.

She didn't doubt it was going to be a very long night for Nathan. Maybe even a long week, depending on how long it took him to make up his mind. He was not the kind of man to act on impulse. He thought things through carefully before making a decision of any kind. He once told her that their affair was the only spontaneous thing he'd done in his adult life. It had been a thrill to know that she'd had that kind of power over someone like him. Too bad she couldn't make him love her, too.

She watched out the front window until Nathan drove away, then she stepped outside and walked across the lawn to the unit next door, rubbing her arms against the cool air seeping through her sheer top. She knocked, and almost immediately Jenny Sorenson, her neighbor and good friend, opened the door, looking worried.

“Hey, is everything okay?” she asked, ushering Ana inside. Max was sitting on the living room floor with Portia, Jenny's fifteen-month-old daughter. Ana hadn't been sure how Nathan would react, so she'd felt it was wisest to keep Max out of the picture.

“Everything is fine. I'm sorry to dump Max on you like that without an explanation, but I didn't have a lot of time.”

When Max heard her voice he squealed and crawled in her direction, but then he got distracted by the toy Portia was banging against the coffee table and changed course. Max was an independent kid, and unless he was wet, hungry or hurt, toys took precedence over Mom any day.

“You looked really upset when you dropped him off. I was worried.”

“I ran into Max's dad today. He may or may not be back in the picture. He wanted to talk, and I felt it would be best if Max wasn't there.” She hadn't told Jenny the details of the situation with Nathan. In fact, up until the time Ana had Max, she and Jenny, a conservative and soft-spoken doctor's wife, had barely said hello. Then one afternoon when Max was a few weeks old and suffering a pretty nasty case of colic, Jenny heard his screams through the open window and stopped by to offer her help. Like Ana, she'd also made the choice to raise her baby without the help of a nanny or an au pair, and she'd been a godsend. She taught Ana a few tricks she'd learned with her own colicky baby, and they had been friends ever since. Still, Ana was selective about what she did and didn't tell her.

“How do you feel about that?” Jenny asked her.

“Conflicted. I'd love for Max to know his father, but at the same time I feel as though I'm setting him up to be let down. If he's even half as bad as my father—”

“It's only fair to give him a chance,” Jenny said firmly, glancing at her daughter, who was in a tug-of-war with Max over a stuffed bear. “A baby needs its father.”

Even though Portia barely ever saw hers. Brice Sorenson, a busy surgeon, was often out of the house before the baby woke, and home after she was tucked in bed. If they were lucky, they might see him for a few hours Sunday between hospital rounds and golf. Though Jenny hadn't come right out and said it, it sounded as though even when he was home, he wasn't really there. He was older than Jenny, and had grown children from a first marriage. He didn't change diapers or clean up messes, and he'd never once taken a midnight feeding. The scenario struck a familiar and troubling chord for Ana. One she refused to accept for Max.

“The ball is in his court now,” Ana told Jenny. And if Nathan wanted any less than what was best for Max, she would cut him out of his son's life without batting an eyelash.

T
hough Nathan hated that Ana's words made so much sense, after several days of considering his son's well-being, he knew she was right. Either he was in or he was out of Max's life. There was no doing it halfway. But he had to consider how claiming his son could impact his career. He was sure that if the truth came out he could kiss his chances at the CEO spot goodbye. The board would see it as a direct and flagrant conflict of interest. Since they learned that the explosion at the refinery was the result of someone tampering with the equipment, people had been quick to point the finger at Birch Energy—even though as of yet they hadn't been able to prove any sort of connection.

But even more important, how would his being in the kid's life influence Max? Nathan had no idea what it took to be a father—at least, not a good one. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn't want to be anything like his own father: accepting nothing but perfection, verbally,
and sometimes physically, lashing out if anyone dared fall short of his unrealistic expectations.

Nathan was too much like his old man, too filled with suppressed anger to ignore the possibility that he would be a terrible father. Yet he couldn't just forget that there was a child out there whom he'd brought into this world, who shared half of his genetic code. He had to at least try. And if he couldn't be there for Max, even though Ana said they didn't need his money, Nathan would see that Max was taken care of financially for the rest of his life.

He called Ana Wednesday afternoon and asked if he could come by to talk.

“How about eight-thirty tonight? After Max goes to bed.”

“You still won't let me see him?”

“Not until I've heard what you have to say.”

Fair enough. “I'll see you at eight-thirty then.”

“See you then.”

He hung up just as Emilio, the company CFO, knocked on his office door.

Nathan gestured him in, thinking that this visit had something to do with the new marketing budget his department had submitted Monday morning. If Western Oil was going to rebuild their reputation with the public, it was going to cost them.

Instead, Emilio said, “Sorry to interrupt,” and handed him a small white envelope. “I just wanted to drop this off.”

“What is it?”

“An invitation.”

“For…?”

“My wedding.”

Nathan laughed, thinking that either he'd misheard or it had to be a joke. “Your
what
?”

A grin kicked up the corner of Emilio's mouth. “You heard me.”

Nathan knew no one more vehemently against marriage than Emilio. What the hell had happened?

Curiosity getting the best of him, he tore the envelope open and pulled out the invitation, his mouth dropping open when he recognized the bride's name. “This wouldn't be the Isabelle Winthrop who was indicted for financial fraud?”

“Apparently you haven't been watching the news. All charges against her were dropped last Friday.”

That explained it. He'd worked late Friday then went to the party Saturday, and since then pretty much all he'd thought about was Ana and his son. He couldn't recall turning on the television or even picking up a newspaper. “And now you're marrying her?”

“Yep.”

Nathan shook his head. “Didn't her husband die just a few months ago?”

“It's a long story,” Emilio said.

I'll bet it is,
he thought. One he was surprised he hadn't heard about before now. But like himself, Emilio was a very private person. And Nathan couldn't be happier that he'd found someone he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. “One I can't wait to hear,” he said.

Emilio grinned. “By the way, I looked over your proposal. I'd like to set up a meeting with Adam to go over the numbers. Probably early next week.”

“Have your secretary call my secretary.”

Nathan spent the rest of the afternoon in meetings, during the last of which they ordered in dinner, which saved him the trouble of having to go out or pick up carryout to eat at home before he changed out of his suit and left for Ana's place. He arrived at eight-thirty on the
nose. Sometime since Saturday she had decorated the front of her condo for the coming holiday. Lighted balsam and fir swags framed the door and windows, and she'd hung a wreath decorated with Christmas bulbs and fresh holly on the front door. Nathan hadn't hung a single decoration in his high-rise apartment downtown. He didn't even own any. Why decorate for the holidays when he was never there? If he decorated anywhere, logically it should be his office, since that was where he spent the majority of his time.

Before he could knock on the door it swung open.

“Right on time,” Ana said. She was dressed in hot pink sweatpants and a matching hoodie over a faded T-shirt stained with something orange that may or may not have been mashed-up carrots. Her fiery red hair was pulled haphazardly back with a clip, and she didn't have any makeup on. Yet she still managed to look sexy as hell.

Motherhood looked damned good on her.

She stepped aside to let him in. “Excuse the mess, but I just got Max settled, and I haven't had time to straighten up yet.”

She wasn't kidding. It looked as if a bomb had gone off in the living room. He had no idea one kid could play with so many toys.

“It looks like there were a dozen kids here,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the coat tree.

“Five, actually. It's playdate day, and it was my week to host.”

“Playdate?”

“You know, a bunch of parents get together with their kids and let them play together. Although me and my next-door neighbor, Jenny, are the only actual parents. Two others are nannies, and one is a French au pair. Jenny and I are both pretty sure the au pair is sleeping with the baby's
father. And one of the nannies told us that the couple she works for is on the verge of divorce, and he sleeps in the spare bedroom now.”

He had no idea playdates could be so scandalous.

“Isn't Max a little young to be playing with other kids?” he asked.

“It's never too early to start socializing children.”

Proving that he knew absolutely nothing about parenting. “You don't have a nanny?”

“I love being with Max, and I'm in a position where I don't have to work now. I like being a stay-at-home mom. Not that it's been easy, but well worth it.”

His mother had been too busy with her charities and her various groups to take much time for her sons.

Ana gestured into the living room. “Come on in and have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

He could probably use one. Or five. But no amount of alcohol was going to make this easier. “No thanks.”

She waited until he sat on the couch, then took a seat on the edge of the chair. “So, you've made a decision?”

“I have.” He propped his elbows on his knees, rubbing his palms together. Ana watched him expectantly. He wasn't sure how she was going to like this. She was probably expecting a definitive answer, but he wasn't ready to give her that. Not yet. “I'd like to have a trial period.”

Her brows rose. “A
trial
period? This is not a gym membership we're talking about, Nathan. He's a baby. A human being.”

“Which is exactly why I think jumping into this would be a bad idea. I know nothing about being a parent. As you pointed out, I never planned to have a family. For all I know I might be a lousy father. I'd like the opportunity to try it out for a few weeks, spend some time with Max and see how he takes to me.”

“Max is nine months old. He loves everyone.”

“Okay then, I want to see how
I
take to
him
.”

“And if you don't…
take to him?
What then?”

“I'll honor your wishes and remove myself from Max's life completely.”

She shook her head. “I don't know…”

“I know you were hoping for a more definitive answer, but I honestly think this is the best way to do this. And it's not a decision I came to lightly. I just…” He sighed, shook his head. “I don't know if I'm ready for this. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, Ana, and this is too important to screw up.”

“I'm assuming there's also the question of how this will go over at work.”

“I won't deny that was a factor in my decision. Our current CEO is leaving, and I'm one of the select few who are competing for the position. I don't want to rock the boat.”

“So it
is
about work,” she said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her voice.

“I have to consider everything,” he said. “But ultimately this is about what's best for our son.”

 

To hear Nathan refer to Max as “our son” made Ana's heart twist. For a long time he was just “her son.” She wasn't sure if she was ready to give that up, to share him. But this wasn't about what she wanted. The only thing that mattered was what was best for Max.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to say no way, either he was in or out; but in all fairness, she'd had almost nine months to get used to the idea of being a parent. He'd had a child thrust on him without warning, and now he was expected to make a decision that would impact his and their son's life forever. And hers. Could she honestly blame him for
erring on the side of caution? He had clearly given this a lot of thought and seemed to have Max's best interest in mind. Wasn't that what really mattered? Not to mention that Nathan had shown vulnerability, which she knew had to be tough for him. He was a successful and well-respected man. Admitting he might not be able to hack it as a father couldn't have been easy for him. She commended him for his honesty.

“I guess a trial period would make sense,” she told him. “Supervised visits, of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

Which meant having to spend time with Nathan, which she was sure would be heart-wrenching for her. Just having him in her home, remembering all the times they had spent there together, made her feel hollowed out inside. Alone. Since they split, she hadn't so much as looked at another man. Not that she'd had a whole lot of time for dating these days, but she had gone out with friends a few times, attended social functions with her father. Men had tried to strike up conversations, asked her to dance, but she just wasn't interested.

If a year and a half apart hadn't dissolved her feelings for Nathan, maybe she was destined to love him forever. Or maybe being around him again would make her realize that he wasn't as wonderful as she used to think. The man was bound to have flaws. Little character traits that annoyed her. Maybe all this time she'd been building him up in her mind, making him into something he really wasn't.

A renewed sense of hope filled her. Maybe this would turn out to be a good thing for her. But they had to be cautious.

“I also think it would be best if no one knew about this,” she said.

He looked relieved, probably because he was worried
about his position at Western Oil. But there was more to it than that.

“I think that's a good idea,” he said.

“We'll have to be really careful. These things have a way of blowing up, and that could be devastating for Max.”

“He's a baby. It's not as if he can pick up a newspaper.”

“Not yet. But someday he will. If you decide, for whatever reason, that you can't be a part of his life, I don't want him to know about you. If your identity gets out now, you can bet he'll hear about it eventually. Besides, my father adores Max, but if he were to learn that you're the father, he would know that our affair was just another way of defying him. He would disown me and Max on principle.”

“Still trying to win his affection?”

“I don't give a damn what he thinks about me, but Max has a future at Birch Energy, if he should so decide that's what he wants to do. Right now it's his legacy. It doesn't seem fair to deny him that for my own selfish reasons.”

“Yet if I decide to be a part of his life you risk that very thing.”

“Because knowing his real father is too important. He needs a male influence in his life, and as it stands, my father is the best I can do. And who knows, maybe Max isn't destined to fail him. With me, he never seemed to get over the fact that I wasn't the son he'd always wanted.”

“So, is that really all I was to you?” he asked. “Just another way to defy your father?”

At first. Until he wasn't anymore. Until she fell stupidly and hopelessly in love with him. But that would have to remain her little secret. Her pride depended on it. “Does that come as such a shock?”

“Not really, considering we both know it isn't true.”

And what about him? Did he get off on making women
fall for him, then breaking their hearts? Was it all just a game to him? And how was she supposed to react to his accusation? If she denied it, she would look as though she were hiding something. If she admitted the truth…well, that wasn't even an option.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of any response.

“So, what days would be best for you to see Max?” she asked him. “His bedtime is eight, so if you want to do weeknights it will have to be before that. Sunday afternoons would work too.”

“Weekdays will be tough. I've been swamped at work. I'm lucky if I can get out by nine most nights.”

“No one said it was going to be easy. You have to make priorities.”

His look said he was poised to jump to the defensive, but instead he took a deep breath and said, “If I go into the office early tomorrow, I could be out of there by six-thirty. That would get me here a little before seven.”

“That's a start,” she said.

“Tomorrow it is then.”

A long, uncomfortable silence followed, where neither seemed to know what to say next. Or maybe they had said all there was to say.