One Daddy Too Many (2 page)

Now, the
restaurant was in jeopardy. But what Rob had in mind might help.

“Mom said you’ve been given the green light to reopen, right?”

She nodded, the look in her eyes weary. “Unless the rumors have scared away all our customers. People are fickle. Who knows what will happen?”

“Um…isn’t that an odd thing for someone with your background to say?” he asked, keeping his tone light. Kate’s heritage was Romani, or Gypsy, as he would have said before his mother educated him. Even before Rob moved to Vegas, his mother had filled him in on her employer’s large and…unusual family.

Her lips turned up in one corner, acknowledging his jest. “Unfortunately, the ability to see into the future didn’t make it into my genes. Now, Maya, on the other hand…” She didn’t go on, but Rob understood. He’d only met Kate’s daughter a couple of times, but he’d sensed something uncanny about the child. She seemed to look at him with ancient eyes that could see to the bottom of his soul.

“Well, even though I’m not Rom, I predict this will bring favorable PR and hordes of customers back to Romantique.”

She stared at him.

“Here,” he said, extending the hardcover book he’d been hiding behind his back. “This is for you.”

She recoiled slightly at first, as if any gift came with strings attached, he guessed, but then her expression turned curious. “A book?” She took it from him, turning it so the front jacket cover was legible. Out loud, she murmured, “Prowess: Loving The Older Man.”

Her lips puckered for a moment, then curved in a smile. She glanced up, a grin threatening to burst into a laugh. “I don’t see
how my reading this will benefit the restaurant, but um…thanks?”

Rob’s heart double-thudded and he had to step back to keep from touching her. He knew Kate wasn’t an effusive person like other members of her family. She ran a kitchen like a submarine commander, but she didn’t hug.

“You’re welcome. But don’t worry. You don’t have to read it. Just glance at the face on the back.”

Her elegant brows flickered. She flipped the book over. “Adam Brighten. Your father?”

Rob nodded. “It’s his new bestseller. He sent a copy by courier yesterday. He’s going to be here in Vegas the week after next for a book signing and…he’s getting married. And,” he beamed at her. “The celebration could be at Romantique.”

Instead of looking happy, she frowned. “Does your mom know?”

Rob was touched that her first concern was for his mother. “Yes. He called her before he called me.”

His parents divorced—officially—just weeks after Rob graduated from high school, but he’d known for years that they’d only stayed together because of him. But even after going their separate ways, they’d remained friends. This had bugged his ex-fiancée to no end. “People who are so radically different shouldn’t like each other so much,” Serena had maintained. “It’s not natural.”

What wasn’t natural was how long it had taken him to realize he and Serena were doomed as a couple. Unfortunately, her father, Jordan Ames, who was a senior partner of the firm where Rob worked, hadn’t seen the wisdom in Rob’s decision. In retribution—from Rob’s point of view, at least—Rob had been “offered” a new assignment. A chance to manage the Vegas branch. A law office filled with a bunch
of misfits who weren’t thrilled to have someone Rob’s age running the show.

If Kate’s case was any indication—the transcript of the hearing would give him a clearer picture of what happened—he had an uphill battle ahead. He was, undoubtedly, in over his head, but he wasn’t his mother’s son for nothing. He’d whip this office into shape, then return home to the Bay area triumphant. But, first, his father needed his help, which, coincidentally, might prove fortuitous to Kate.

“Is Jo okay with this?” Kate asked, drawing him back to the present. “I mean, I know she’s moved on and probably wants the best for him, but…marriage. Wow. That’s a big deal, right?”

“For my dad? Absolutely. If you’d have asked me yesterday, I would have said he’s a confirmed bachelor. But apparently once he met Haley it was love at first sight. Two months later he proposed.”

“Whoa,” she said, her look telling him a great deal even though all she said was, “That’s quick.”

Rob agreed, although he’d refrained from saying so to his father. “I think Dad’s been lonely and dissatisfied with his life for a long time.” Not that Rob talked to his father often. When the two got together, they golfed. Period.

“Dad said they met at a photo shoot for a magazine that was interviewing him. She’s a model. My age or a little younger.”

“Oh.” She handed him back the book. “Well, um, congratulations. I’ll give your mom a call—”

He interrupted. “Don’t bother. She’s on her way here. Should be arriving any minute.”

“Jo’s coming here?” Kate looked toward the street, as if expecting Jo to pull up right that instant. But Rob knew what 8:00 a.m.
traffic was like in Vegas. Even more prone to bottlenecks and accidents than in Oakland, where he’d grown up, or San Francisco where he’d graduated from college and first practiced law.

“You know Mom. She hates to miss out on work.” He motioned toward the building. “Have you gone inside yet? It’s too bad you didn’t have proof that the complaint was bogus
before
the health department got involved.”

Rob had been pleased to hear that Charles Harmon had admitted faking the E. coli claim. Unfortunately, his confession couldn’t undo the damage to Romantique’s reputation.

She took a key from the pocket of her snug, faded jeans. Her gray University of Nevada Las Vegas sweatshirt had seen better days, but on Kate, it looked stylish. Her running shoes were thick-soled and functional, albeit slightly tattered.

He followed her inside, standing close enough to get a hint of her fragrance. Not perfume. Just soap and a crisp, citrus-scented shampoo.

“I have a professional cleaning crew coming this afternoon. I’m just here to take inventory so I can give Grace some idea of when we’ll be ready to reopen. She’s going to put together a press release.”

Rob cleared his throat. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I think my news might make any additional advertising redundant.”

He watched her shoulders rise as she inhaled a breath of chilly, stale air. “What do you mean?” she asked on the exhale.

Her breathlessness was so sexy it produced a humming sensation perilously close to the place that would reveal how he felt if she turned around and glanced down. He’d made it a point to keep the attraction he felt toward her to himself—for propriety’s sake. Plus, she really wasn’t his type.

He forced his
attention back to the topic at hand. “How would you like to reopen on a high note? Reporters. Photographers. A crew from
Entertainment Central.
”

She gave him a questioning look. “Have you been snorting the dust from too many old law books?”

Playfully, he tapped her on the nose with the corner of the book she’d handed back to him. “As best man at my father’s wedding, I get to pick the place for the reception. Where better than Romantique? A hundred guests. Celebrities. Paparazzi. TV coverage.”

She swayed slightly as if the possibility made her knees weak. They bumped body parts. Mostly elbows and forearms, but a little skin. A little warmth. Enough to make his throat dry up.

“Here? You want to hold the reception here?” She sounded shocked, as if good fortune were so alien a concept she couldn’t get her mind around it.

“Where else? Mom’s even promised to bake an appropriately spectacular cake.”

Kate stared at him, her brown eyes so wide and fathomless he felt momentarily lost in them. He saw her embrace the possibilities. “This could be big.”

“Did I mention Dad’s bride-to-be was on the cover of
InStyle
a few months back?” He knew nothing about the magazine, but his mother had sounded impressed when she’d called.

“The bounce we get from this might make people forget the rumors,” she said, motioning him to follow. She walked inside, turning on lights as she led the way to the main kitchen.

He hesitated, reminded of the fact she’d summoned him this morning. “Before I forget, you’re the one who called me, remember?
I sort of blew past that point without letting you speak. Sorry.”

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him. A rosy hue inched up her neck. A second later, her chin lifted. “I’d planned to fire you,” she said softly. “But maybe I was a bit hasty.”

“No, you
were looking out for yourself and Maya. Just what a good mother should do.”

His cheerful tone wasn’t what Kate had expected.

“But I’d like the chance to make amends,” he continued. “If you want me to get a restraining order in place or hire a bodyguard, I’d be happy to do it.”

A bodyguard? Who could protect her daughter from someone like Ian, who outwardly was as unthreatening and docile as that mild-mannered neighbor who suddenly, for no reason, shoots his family? In her dream, Ian had carried Maya away while everyone watched. What good would a bodyguard do—even if she could afford one?

“You don’t think I’m overreacting? My sisters were quick to point out that Ian has never shown much interest in our daughter in the past, so maybe this is just an attempt to rattle me.”

“That could be. Or he saw the light while he was inside.” She thought she detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Either way, I don’t plan to make this easy for him. He was too busy to be a real dad to her when he lived with us, so this sudden concern for Maya doesn’t ring true. He wants something,
and I have a hard time believing it’s his daughter’s love. And if he thinks he’s going to take her away, he’s in for the fight of his life.”

Rob nodded as if he was totally convinced. “I have the name of a retired lawyer who does consulting for free. Let me call my office and get his number. We can give him a call and see what he suggests. Okay?”

Free is good.

While Rob used his cell phone, Kate reviewed the conversation she’d had with her mother over breakfast. Yetta seemed to think the only way Kate was going to be able to move forward in her life was to make peace with the past, which included coming to grips with Ian’s betrayal. Kate didn’t know how that was possible, but she knew it was useless to pretend that he didn’t exist—the way she had while he was incarcerated. Ian was Maya’s father. He would always be a part of her life—unless she killed him. Which would be a distinct possibility if he tried to take Maya away.

“Read this and tell me what you think,” Yetta had said, giving Kate a letter she’d received from Ian the day before. In it, he’d pleaded for Yetta’s forgiveness, vowing to make back the money he’d stolen and to do everything in his power to rebuild her family’s trust.

He’d also mentioned his poor health and belief that Western medicine had failed him.
“I know you could help me recover my health, Yetta,”
he’d written.
“You are Puri Dye—keeper of the old ways. Your herbs would surely be my salvation if you could find it in your heart to help a weak, lost soul.”

Clever as always, Ian had appealed to her mother’s humanity, plus he’d shown his respect for his ancestry.

“You’re
not thinking about helping him, are you?” Kate had asked, appalled.

“I haven’t decided,” Yetta had answered. “But you can’t avoid this collision with the past, Katherine. It’s your destiny.”

Kate had refused to discuss “the prophecy.” In the past, everyone in their Romani clan had put a great deal of stock in Yetta’s power of precognition. Each of her four daughters knew from a very young age what their mother had foreseen in their futures. In Kate’s opinion, hers read like a bad fortune cookie:
You can’t escape your destiny nor avoid the past when the two intersect.
Baloney.

Kate’s faith in her mother’s prophetic abilities had been tested—and broken—more than once. First, Yetta had had no warning of her husband’s stroke. Then, after his death, she’d put her trust—and the money from Ernst’s life insurance policy—in Ian’s hands without telling anyone. And when he disappeared, Yetta had seemed truly mystified by Ian’s betrayal, as if she’d had no warning whatsoever.

No, Kate didn’t give a crap about her so-called destiny, but she did care about Maya’s future. And she’d do everything in her power to keep her daughter safe.

To that end, she brought her attention back to the present when she heard Rob say to the person on the other end of the phone, “Great. I’ll tell her. Thanks a lot.”

He closed his phone and looked at her. “Okay. He’ll meet with you tomorrow morning. If you like him and feel comfortable with his representation, my secretary will hand-deliver the files that I have on the case.”

“You’re giving up on me, huh?” She wanted to take back the question the minute it came out. She sounded needy and pathetic.

Rob gave her a
stern look that made him appear much older. “Absolutely not. I’m putting my ego aside and letting the more experienced litigator take over.”

“That’s very noble.”

“Noble.” He snickered softly. “Yeah, right. I don’t think nobility is in my genes. Unlike Nick. The prince.”

His comment told her Rob had heard the gossip about Grace and her future husband, Nick Lightner. Unlike Kate, Grace’s prophecy was cut and dried: You will marry a prince, but you will have to save him first. Grace had done just that—both by taking a bullet that might have been meant for him and by convincing him that he was worthy of love.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard your prophecy.”

“For good reason. It’s nonsense. Now, what were you telling me about your father’s party?”

Rob let the blatant change of topic go without comment because he sensed an undercurrent of emotion in her voice. “Maybe we should wait for Mom to get here. She’ll certainly have an opinion on the subject. Meanwhile fill me in on Grace. Have she and Nick set a date?”

“I don’t think she’s decided on the exact day. Nikolai’s still waiting to hear about his promotion, but most likely they’ll make Detroit their home.”

Her tone sounded resigned.

“That’s really wild. She’s marrying the undercover cop who was responsible for getting three Romani family members arrested. What happens here? Mom says Grace is going to continue handling the bookkeeping by fax and Internet.”

“Right. And I get to hire a new hostess. You can’t exactly telecommute that.”

He didn’t
buy her flippant tone. “This has got to be tough, Kate. I’m sorry.”

She made a halfhearted attempt at a smile. “Me, too. But I don’t have a lot of say in the matter. My sister has the right to fall in love and marry her Prince Charming. Maybe if Romantique was still making money and our reputation was intact, I’d sell the place and move. So far away Ian would never find us. But since most of my savings went to pay the bills while we’ve been closed….” She winced. “Sorry. More information than you wanted, right?”

She looked so disconsolate Rob was tempted to hug her. “Not at all. I’m just sorry I added to your worries.”

She shrugged. “Maybe this is the way things are supposed to work out. Mom says Ian is a part of our lives for a reason—it’s up to us to figure out why.”

He was surprised by her fatalistic attitude. He’d always been impressed by her take-charge mentality. Rolling over and accepting fate’s whims didn’t seem like her.

“That might be true, but it still pays to be prepared. Prison can change a person. And not necessarily for the better. Grant is sick. My associate said he looked like death warmed over at the parole hearing, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t do a lot of damage—”

“Yoo-hoo, I’m here,” a loud, raspy voice called, cutting off his train of thought. A smoker’s voice. His mother’s. “Oh, good. You’ve got the book.”

The woman hurrying toward them was short and stocky with closely cropped silver hair. “I didn’t want to run out and buy a copy. Adam and I were married seventeen years. Would it hurt him to give me one?”

Rob handed the book to her. “Here you go. It’s all yours, but I suggest you double up on your blood pressure
medicine before you start it,” he said, sending a wink Kate’s way.

“Oh, pooh, you know this is just commercial blather. Adam doesn’t actually believe any of this malarkey.”

“Then why’d he write it?” Kate asked.

“To make money, of course. And to prove he could.”

Rob wasn’t sure either of those explanations was true. As he’d read the words his father wrote, Rob heard excuses. Clever, cerebral excuses for a self-indulgent life that had wounded many and left some, his son for instance, baffled and uneasy.

Kate looked at him as if sensing his ambivalence. “Well, I’m glad his publishing career is working out. Especially since he wants to drop a little of that cash here.”

As Kate filled his mother in on the plan, Rob watched the two interact. His mother was a flake, according to Serena, but Kate treated Jo with respect and what appeared to be genuine affection. His mother had never seemed happier.

Another reason why Rob needed to ignore the attraction he felt toward Kate. Besides, she broke all his rules.

Rule No. 1: the women he dated had to be single, never been married. He didn’t need someone else’s emotional baggage—he had enough of his own.

Rule No. 2: no kids. This point was nonnegotiable. Not even when the kid was as cute and smart as Maya.

Rule No. 3: career-minded, but not obsessed with her work. According to his mother, Kate lived and breathed Romantique. He was still young. He wanted the freedom to dash off to the islands for a romantic weekend on a whim. Spend his money foolishly. Indulge in long Sunday mornings spent on breakfast in bed and crossword puzzles.

So what
if that sounded totally hedonistic? He was living out of a suitcase at a long-term-residence hotel. That didn’t exactly make him daddy material, right? Especially for someone who’d been burned as badly as Kate had.

Nope. He had to do the right thing. The noble thing. He’d help her settle her custody issues, throw her restaurant some business while making his dad happy, then get the heck out of her life. And Vegas. Who in their right mind thought living on the desert twenty-four/seven was a good idea? He missed the Bay area more than he ever thought possible.
What I wouldn’t give for a little fog…

He started, realizing the two women were waiting for him to reply to some question. “Huh?”

His mother gave him a look that said she knew what he was thinking. He couldn’t read Kate’s face as easily. “Jo asked if there was a wedding planner involved.”

Rob didn’t have a clue. But he’d find out.

He pulled out a checkbook from the inside pocket of his suit coat and quickly scribbled an amount and his signature. “At the moment, all I’m concerned about is making sure we have a place. Will this work as a deposit?” He handed her the check.

Her gasp told him she was surprised. And pleased.

“Dad gave me carte blanche,” he told her. “He wants the best. I know I can trust you to deliver that.”

Kate managed to keep her emotions together until Rob left. She stared at the zeroes neatly scribed on the amount line of the check until tears clouded her eyes.

“Honey girl, don’t cry. I’ve been telling you all along, good things happen to good people. Sometimes, it just takes a while to prime the pump,” Jo told her, giving Kate’s shoulders a robust squeeze.

Jo was
the one person, aside from Kate’s sisters and her daughter, who could hug her and get away with it.

“This is too much,” Kate said. “Your son must think I’m a charity case.”

“My son is infatuated. He just won’t admit it.”

The check Kate had been drooling over slipped from her suddenly numb fingers and fluttered to the tile floor, which was covered in white dust and foot tracks. “He…you…no…don’t kid about something like that, Jo,” she said when her power of speech returned. “Rob’s a great guy. The best. But no way in the world would he be interested in someone like me.”

Jo, who’d grabbed a broom from the utility closet, leaned on it and said, “
Someone like you?
You mean someone who puts family first, who works twenty hours a day and still manages to be a great mom and fabulous boss? And would look like a model, if she ever wore anything but jeans and a chef’s uniform?”

Kate laughed out loud. “Very funny. I’m skinny, burnt-out and emotionally bankrupt. But even if I were a gorgeous young supermodel, Rob and I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a mother, and I get the distinct impression he doesn’t like children.”

“Oh, pooh,” Jo said. “He used to love kids. In high school, he spent every summer working at our community pool. He just comes off a little stiff because he’s been around law books and stuffed suits too much. Maya could whip him into shape quick enough.”

Kate doubted that. Maya, who was the most intuitive four-year-old Kate had ever known, wasn’t smitten with Rob, either. “He’s icky. And his shoes squeak,” her daughter had
declared after meeting Rob at Romantique one evening when he dropped by to pick up his mother.

Kate didn’t think either point was true, but she hadn’t pressed the issue, other than to reprimand her daughter for her use of the word
icky.

“Well, this is a moot point,” Kate said. “He’s your son. And a client. And my soon-to-be ex-lawyer. That’s all.”

Jo resumed sweeping. “Yeah, sure. Only you two are going to be working very closely over the next two weeks. Some might regard that as fate lending a matchmaking hand.” She used her broom to tap out the beat to “Here Comes the Bride.”

Kate laughed, even as a shiver ran down her spine. “Stop. I did the bride thing once. And believe me, once was enough. I learned my lesson. From now on, I only say, ‘I don’t.’”