The CEO Daddy Next Door (10 page)

“Also, Ms. George,” Lieutenant Williams said, “you should know that your sprinkler system failed, and we suspect it was compromised. If your contractor's workers bypassed the system, I have no choice but to file a report with the city. There will be an investigation. They could lose their license. It's a very serious safety violation.”

“I don't understand, though. They had a waiting list. Their other work is beautiful.”

Lieutenant Williams shrugged. “We see this every now and then, even with some of the best contractors. One worker takes a few shortcuts and everyone suffers.”

“There's nobody else who could've done it. They're the only people who have been working in my apartment.” Marcus had been right all along. However “in-demand” her contractor had been, she'd ended up with a team of idiots working on her project. She'd given in to tunnel vision, just moving forward with the renovations because all she wanted was her apartment to be done. She'd wanted that one thing for herself, at any cost. “I guess I need to start looking for a new contractor.” She disbelieved the words as they left her mouth. She'd been so sure Marcus would be the reason her renovations came grinding to a halt. In the end, it was because the company she'd hired—and defended all along—had done a terrible job.

He nodded. “You should be able to return in a week or so. We won't hold your apartment hostage forever. You're very lucky that Mr. Chambers acted so quickly. It could've been far worse for your apartment and for the entire building. I'd say that all things considered, this is a good thing. You would've been living with a ticking time bomb. That bad electrical could've short-circuited at any time—while you were asleep, while your neighbors were asleep.”

The weight of everything threatened to knock Ashley to the ground.
It could've been far worse.
She knew worse. She'd lived worse. She was so relieved that no one had been hurt, but her guilt over the possibility was crushing. She took in a deep breath as tears bloomed at the corners of her eyes. She had to stay strong...at least until she could collapse in a heap on a hotel bed.

Ashley and Marcus stepped away. “It's okay,” she said. “You can tell me now that I messed up. I know I did.” She waited for the lecture or at least that smug look on his face, the one that would say without words that he was, once again, right. And she had been wrong. Tragically wrong.

“I don't have to say it. It's all quite clear.”

She waited for the part about how it was okay that she'd made a mistake, but he didn't say it. And she couldn't blame him. He and his family had been put at risk.

“I'm sorry, Marcus. I don't know what else to say.”

“You can say that you'll stay with me,” he said. “If you'd like to.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”

“Yes. You can stay with me. You can be nearby while they do the inspection, you can be on hand if your contractor shows up, and all of your things are here. It's the only sensible thing to do.”

Because you'd invite me to stay only if it was sensible.
“I thought you didn't like to have women around Lila.”

“Lila's perfectly safe at my sister's. She can stay there for a few days. I wouldn't dare bring her back into the building until the inspection is complete, anyway. I can visit her before or after work. She'll be safe from all of this.”

He nodded in the direction of her apartment, but the invisible line between Marcus and her door went right through her. Her choices had created the danger. They'd prompted Marcus's need to keep the most precious thing in his life far away from her.

“So? Are you accepting my invitation? I'm too tired to persuade you, so you'll have to make the call.”

Could she do this? Retreat to the home of the man she'd cursed on a regular basis just a few weeks ago?
Should
she do this? Would they just end up arguing over breakfast? Or would she spend the night staring at the ceiling, wondering what he'd worn to bed that night? “Yes. Thank you. I appreciate it.” She turned back to her apartment door. “I really don't think I want to go in there.” Her voice was shaky again. She dreaded the thought of seeing the damage firsthand.

“Why don't you get settled in my guest room? I'm sure I can find something for you to sleep in.”

“Old potato sack lying around somewhere?”

“Something like that.”

They made their way to his apartment. This was the first time Marcus had allowed her to step over his threshold, and she didn't take the invitation lightly. He'd been clear—women who weren't the nanny or housekeeper didn't come over. Of course, Lila, the person he was protecting, wasn't here to protect. She'd been whisked away to safety.

Marcus's furnishings were trim and masculine—a charcoal-gray sofa, chocolate-brown leather armchairs and a low wood coffee table, set against the backdrop of marine-blue walls with crisp white trim, with vintage black-and-white framed photographs and old maps as art. A massive basket in the corner overflowed with colorful toys, a happy oasis in an otherwise sophisticated and serious room. She followed him down the hall, where he flipped on the light in his extra bedroom. “I trust this will work.”

This room was serene refinement in soft white and shades of cream, camel and café au lait. “It's perfect. Thank you.” She took in a deep breath. There was so much to do—deal with insurance and the fire department, get everything cleaned. And then there was her contractor. Clearly the crew had to be fired tomorrow. As to whom she'd hire to finish things up, it was back to the drawing board. She had another year of celebrity under her belt since she'd last contacted her first-choice builders. Perhaps they could be persuaded to move her up in the queue.

“I need to find you something to sleep in,” he said, sounding a bit uncomfortable with the task he'd given himself. “I'll be right back.”

“That would be great.” Ashley sat on the edge of the bed, exhausted and struggling to get a handle on her feelings. The fire was a living nightmare, but it had landed her in Marcus's inner sanctum, a place she'd been fairly sure he'd keep her out of forever. It was hard not to be fascinated by this glimpse into his life, to see a glimmer of hope. She and Marcus Chambers might have horrible odds romantically, but there was still something about him that left her wanting more.

He reappeared in her doorway, presenting her with a pair of pale blue, perfectly pressed men's pajamas. “I, uh, I don't know what you normally wear to bed, but I hope this will do.”

She had to smile at his sewn-up approach, knowing that when the lights were turned down and clothes were coming off, he was uninhibited and commanding. Regret over their almost-night together still ate at her. If only they'd actually made love, if only she'd been able to witness the moment when he unraveled, she would have had another piece of the sexy, complicated puzzle standing before her. “Is this what you normally sleep in?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the pajamas.

“Just the pants. I can't stand to wear a shirt to bed.”

A flood of heat and frustration threatened to consume her. He'd just plopped a sequence of half-dressed images in her head that would be hard to shake, especially knowing it was all going to play out in the next room in a few minutes. All night long. “You wouldn't want to smother yourself with pajamas.”

He knocked a knuckle against the door frame. “I'll leave you to it. I'm sure you want to phone your family.”

Her family. Good God, she hadn't dared to entertain the notion. It would crush her mother. Her dad might not handle it much better, and he needed to avoid stress at all costs. Why did reality have to encroach on her daydreamy thoughts of Marcus and his chest? “I'll call them tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? I don't know what I would've done without my family after Elle left. They got me through everything. I really think you'll feel better if you talk to them now.”

And there it was—another piece of the puzzle, willingly given. He wasn't afraid to admit that he'd needed help and support during his divorce. So he
was
human after all. “Yes. You're right. I promise to call them first thing in the morning. I'll let them get their rest tonight.”

Eleven

M
arcus might have wished Ashley a good night's rest, but he'd had nothing of the sort. If he was torn over how he felt about her before, he was even more conflicted now. The adrenaline rush of the fire, coupled with missing Lila, all while perseverating on the image of Ashley in his pajamas, had left him restless all night.

Yes, Ashley had created the situation that put Lila, his sister and the entire building in danger last night. He'd told her dozens of times that her contractor was reckless and irresponsible and she'd refused to listen. But then again...he couldn't fathom her leaving them on the project if she'd had any idea what would happen.

He'd seen it the night they went out to dinner. She wasn't self-centered, nor was she dumb. Carefree and audacious? Yes. Brazenly negligent? No. Did that leave her as the victim? Probably. Which was precisely why he couldn't let her go to a hotel last night, even when it meant subjecting himself to the physically arduous proximity of being around a woman he knew he was falling in love with, even when he'd sworn he wouldn't.

Realizing he'd claimed as much rest as he could possibly get, he climbed out of bed and took a shower. Getting into the office early was the best way to deal with the way she made him feel. When he'd given her his pajamas last night, he'd been fighting every urge imaginable—to take her in his arms, kiss her, admit to panicking the night of the premiere and ask for a second chance. To make love to her, if only to be able to stop the talking, the endless back and forth, and physically express how he felt. He might not be able to put his feelings into words or coherent thought, but he was fairly certain he could put them into action.

Last night, she was stuck in this unthinkable situation and had been so vulnerable, but still remained strong. How she'd kept from truly breaking down was beyond him. There had been shaky moments, there had been tears, but that was it. Had she been putting on a good face for him? Or had he actually managed to comfort her?

The rattle of dishes and closing of cabinet doors came from the kitchen. Better to get used to running into his new roommate now, rather than avoiding the situation. He sauntered down the hall but wasn't ready for the vision that greeted him—Ashley on her tiptoes in nothing more than the shirt from his pajamas, searching through the kitchen cabinets.

He coughed, partly to get her attention, partly to keep himself from walking up behind her and snaking his arms around her waist. He
did
have a good ninety minutes until his sister expected him in the office. They could accomplish a lot in that much time. “Good morning.”

She dropped back down to bare feet and turned. Her hair was a sexy mess. She didn't have on a lick of makeup—still beautiful, but in an entirely different way than he was used to. “You're up. Is there coffee?”

“Sorry. Just tea.”

She frowned, making her chin wrinkly, which was surprisingly cute. “You have got to be kidding me. How am I supposed to function?”

Reaching past her, he opened the cabinet where he kept the tea bags. He set one of the boxes on the counter then filled the kettle with water. “There's plenty of caffeine in English breakfast tea.”

“Wait a minute.” She pointed at him, shaking her finger while he turned on the stove burner. “I know you drink coffee. I've seen you come up to the apartment with a to-go cup.”

“I do drink it, but I don't make it. Never learned how.” He got out a mug for her as she leaned against the kitchen counter, resting one of her bare feet on top of the other. Her legs were almost more tempting now than they'd been the night of the premiere. He knew everything her legs led to. “So, what's on the schedule today?” he asked, consulting his watch, distracting himself.

She folded her arms across her chest, causing the nightshirt to hitch up and the side vent to split open, revealing an edge of some sort of pale purple temptation. “I have a million things to do. I already talked to the insurance company. They're sending an adjuster over this afternoon. I heard from the fire marshal, and he already has one of his men working over there. I can fetch my stuff anytime I want. Suffice it to say, I won't be going into the office today. Which is fine. I need a break.”

“Do you want me to go with you across the hall to get a few of your things? I know you weren't up to it last night, but you can't live in my pajamas all day long.”
If you did, I might be forced to take the day off, too.

“No. It's fine. Lieutenant Williams is going to be here in an hour. I'll wait and go in with him.”

Great. I'll leave her with a handsome, strapping fireman.
“Ah, well, then. I guess I'll just get off to the office. Martha, the housekeeper, will be by later this morning to clean and prepare dinner.”

* * *

Dread nagged Ashley as she looked at her phone. She didn't like the idea of burdening her mother with anything, especially bad news. In fact, she took it as her personal charge to bring only good news.
They renewed my show for another season. I'm sending more money.
She hadn't even shared the news about James dumping her until she'd flown home for Thanksgiving last year, and cracked the instant she saw her mom. Considering the fact that a story about Ashley's fire was in the newspaper and making the rounds online that morning, she didn't have a choice. It was time to be the bearer of bad tidings.

Her mom answered on the third ring. “Hey, baby girl.”

“Hi, Mama.”

“It's nearly nine thirty. It's not like you to call me from work.”

Ashley's eyes drifted shut. Her mother's warm, syrupy drawl brought her to tears, but she had to choke them back. She had to be strong, just like she'd been with Marcus last night. She wasn't about to burden her mom unnecessarily. “I'm not at work. I'm taking the day off.”

“What happened? You never miss work.”

And to think she'd worried that crying would rat her out. Her mother knew something was amiss just because her workaholic daughter wasn't in the office. “Something happened with my apartment, but I really, really don't want you to worry.” She couldn't bring herself to say the word. She couldn't force herself to say
fire
.

“Not something with that neighbor of yours, is it? I thought you two were dating.”

Crap.
She hadn't bargained on her mom knowing about that. “Did you see that in the papers?”

“One of your brothers emailed me a link. I figured you'd call me and tell me what was going on when you were ready for me to know.”

“We aren't really dating. It's complicated.”
Beyond complicated.
“We were in a position to help each other's businesses. And we're trying to be friends, but we argue a fair amount. He doesn't like my contractor. I don't really know what's going on between us, to be honest.”

“You're rambling, darling. And you still haven't told me what happened with your apartment.”

Ashley took in a deep breath. “There was a fire.”

“Oh no.” There was such finality to her mother's words. “Are you okay? You weren't hurt, were you?”

“I'm fine. Really. Actually, my neighbor Marcus was the one who discovered the fire. He put it out and everything. Before the fire department arrived.”

“Please tell me you weren't home.”

“I wasn't. I was at work.”

Her mother exhaled deeply. “I have never been so thankful for that crazy job of yours. Are you going to be okay? Do you need to come home for a few days? Let me feed you and you can sleep in and we'll have our girl time.”

Ashley smiled. Just a few minutes of talking to her mom had lowered her stress level dramatically. “I would love to do that, but I have to stay and deal with the fire marshal and the insurance company and find a new contractor.”

“Okay, honey. I know you're busy. I just want you to know that we're here for you. Always. I'm sure that the fire was a scary thing, considering everything that happened when you were a girl, but you need to recognize that good things come out of bad, too.”

“What good came out of that fire? It was all bad.”

“Actually, a lot of good things happened. It made your father quit smoking. Another decade or two of that and we probably would have lost him to a stroke long before now. Plus, your dad and I weren't doing that well at the time. Running the farm was hard, and it was driving a wedge between us.”

“It was?” Ashley sat back against the headboard. “You never told me that.”

“You were ten years old. And that was between your father and me. Some things have to stay between a husband and a wife. Nobody else needs to know. Regardless, the fire brought us closer. We realized how much we needed each other. It made the financial problems that came after it much easier to handle.”

“I think of that time as being so hard.”

“It was incredibly hard. But your father got me through it. That's what love does, darling. It makes all of the bad tolerable. You should know that better than anyone. You go to work and find a lot of people true love.”

“Not that I'm actually able to find it for myself. That would make too much sense, wouldn't it? For the woman who searches for love all day to actually find it for herself?”

“So tell me what the situation is with you and Marcus.”

If only her mother knew what a long conversation this could end up being. “There is no situation. I mean, I liked him a lot at first, but then I thought he didn't like me.”

“And now?”

“Now, I don't really know what to think. He has a very complicated life. I'm just not sure I'm up for that. He's had a hard time, went through a really painful divorce and is trying to raise his daughter on his own. I'm starting to see why he can come across as a jerk. He closes himself off to everything.”

“Just like you do.”

For a moment, Ashley wasn't sure of what she'd heard her mother say. “What? I don't do that at all. You know me. I'll talk about anything.”

“Maybe when it comes to other people. You close doors when you don't like what you see. You've done that since you were a little girl. If something bad happened, you just learned to ignore it. You were always better at helping other people than helping yourself.”

Ashley's mind flew back to the palm reading in the limo. She didn't really believe in that stuff, but Marcus had said virtually the same thing of her.
Oh my God. She's right. He's right.
She'd closed the door on the bad behavior of her contractor. She'd closed the door on the fire, trying to put on a brave face for Marcus so he wouldn't see her fall apart. She'd closed the door on the reasons James had left. Why wasn't she ready for a real commitment? For children?

“Mama, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think I'm too scattered to be a good mom or wife?”

Her mother laughed quietly. “Didn't I just get done saying that you're better at helping others than helping yourself? That's pretty much the first requirement of being a wife and a mom. Being scattered has nothing to do with it. And you're not scattered. You're full of life. You aren't afraid to take on new things, even if it stretches you a little bit.”

“I'm not afraid to take on new things if I think I'm going to be good at them.”

“Or if it helps you help someone else.”

She hadn't thought about it that way, but that wasn't far off base. She'd taken on the matchmaker show not completely certain she'd do well at it, only knowing that she had to take the chance so she could help her family.

“So, Ashley Anne, do you like him?”

“Who? Marcus?”

“The man in the moon. Of course I mean Marcus.”

Ashley instructed her clients not to think when she asked them questions like this. It was a time for the heart to take the lead. “I do. He can be a big mystery, but I feel like I find out something new every time we spend time together. I just keep going back, even when things aren't going well, because I'm dying to know more. I guess you could say he has me hooked.”

“And does he like you?”

“I'm not sure, to be honest. I mean, he invited me to stay at his apartment, so I'm pretty sure he doesn't hate me.”

“Sounds to me like you need to find a way to his heart. And you know what that means.”

Ashley smiled wide. “You think so?”

“Absolutely. You need to cook for the man. That's the surest way to figure out how he feels.”