The Man Upstairs (You, Me & The Kids) Page 7

  She chuckled then. “No. Have you?”

  He shook his head. “Not even close.”

  “Me, neither. The longest I’ve ever dated anyone is three months. I’ve discovered that not many men like to come in second to a woman’s career.”

  It was as if she was telling him to be forewarned, not to expect anything from her, which was rather ironic, since he’d been dishing out that sentiment for most of his adult life. How many times had he told a woman that he wasn’t ready to settle down because of his job? Could it be that he had finally met someone who thought like he did?

  Curious, he asked, “So what exactly are your career goals?”

  “I’d like to have my own agency someday, but first I need to move up the ranks at Delaney Design.”

  “Then there are opportunities for you there?”

  She took another sip of her coffee. “Oh, yes, the next step is to make art director.”

  “You mean take Watkins’s job?”

  “Not necessarily his. There is more than one art director at an agency the size of Delaney Design.”

  The server brought the chocolate cake. Quinn enjoyed watching her savor each bite, encouraging her to talk about work as they ate.

  When they had finally finished and he’d settled the check, he said, “I enjoyed this evening, Dena. It was fun discovering what we have in common.”

  When she stood, he helped her with her coat. As he did his hand brushed her hair. It was silky smooth and he wished it were hanging loose instead of tied back with a scarf.

  “Thanks for telling me about hockey,” she said as he steered her toward the exit. “I’ve never even been on a pair of skates so it’s hard for me to understand why there’s so much enthusiasm for the sport.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe you don’t skate. You said you grew up in Iowa. Winters there are about as long as Minnesota’s are.”

  “Not quite, and not everyone who lives in a cold climate skates in the winter,” she reminded him.

  “Now, that is something I don’t understand. When we were kids my friends and I were outside on the ice whenever we had the chance.”

  “Leonie said you skated at her house.”

  He nodded. “Either there or at the park. The city would flood two rinks—one for figure skating, the other for hockey.”

  “What about your parents? Didn’t you have a rink in your backyard, too?”

  He shook his head. “Couldn’t. We lived on a hill. It was great for sledding, though.”

  “Didn’t you ever skate indoors?” she asked as they stepped out into the cold.

  “Not very often. Indoor ice time cost money. But I’d rather be outdoors, anyway. There’s something exhilarating about skating outside on a crisp winter night.”

  “Are you sure exhilaration isn’t a euphemism for frostbite?” she asked on a sardonic chuckle. “Winters are so cold in Minnesota.”

  “But you don’t get cold if you’re skating. That’s the beauty of it.”

  “Then why do they have warming houses?”

  He grinned. “All right. Maybe your toes get a little cold and then you go inside to hang out with your friends…grab some hot chocolate, eat some junk food from the vending machines. Be seen.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to say I missed that particular youth experience.”

  They had reached his SUV, and he opened the passenger door for her to climb inside. When he got in behind the wheel, he looked at her and said, “On our next date, I promise not to talk about hockey so much.”

  She tilted her head. “Was this a date?”

  For an answer he leaned across the seat and placed a kiss on her lips. Her mouth was warm, soft and inviting, tempting him to give in to the desire building inside him. Surprised by the intensity of his longing, he pulled back. The look he saw in her eyes mirrored what he was feeling: she hadn’t expected such a reaction to what should have been a simple kiss.

  Only he was discovering there was nothing simple about Dena Bailey. He started the engine and drove home.

  Neither one spoke until they were outside her door and she said, “Thanks for dinner.”

  “You’re welcome.” He should have said a polite good-night and left, but he couldn’t resist taking her mouth one more time. Again desire shot through him as his lips seized hers. When her mouth opened slightly, every instinct inside him urged him to respond to the silent invitation.

  But he didn’t. He simply lifted his mouth from hers and said, “See you around, neighbor.”

  DENA HAD NEVER DATED ANYONE whose name appeared regularly in the newspaper. Although one dinner didn’t exactly give her the right to say she was dating Quinn, it did cause her to look at the sports page to find the Cougars schedule for the upcoming week. She wanted to know when she could expect to see him again—if she was going to see him again. She wasn’t naive enough to think that a couple of kisses and a “see you around, neighbor” meant he would ask her out on another date.

  It was one of the reasons she hadn’t told anyone about their dinner at Dixie’s. She didn’t want Lisa to get any ideas about a romance developing, and she seldom talked about her social life with her co-workers. She didn’t need her personal relationships to be the topic of discussion over the company’s water cooler.

  As far as anyone at Delaney Design was concerned, her relationship with the hockey player was strictly business. That’s why when a courier delivered an envelope from the Minnesota Cougars organization addressed to her, no one paid much attention. Even Dena thought the envelope contained documents pertaining to Quinn’s photo shoot. She was surprised to find two tickets to a Cougars home game and a brief note saying they were compliments of Quinn Sterling.

  She looked at the date and frowned. They were for the following Tuesday. On Wednesday she would be presenting her ideas for the soy nuts advertising campaign. That meant her Tuesday would be a crazy blur of working late into the evening to get ready. She couldn’t possibly go to the game.

  She picked up the phone to call Quinn, but then stopped before she punched a single number. It was a call she didn’t want to make, a call she couldn’t make, because she wanted to go to the game.

  “Here, catch!”

  She was distracted by the appearance of Greg Watkins in the doorway of her cubicle. He tossed a small cardboard box in her direction.

  “What’s this?” she asked as it landed in her hands.

  “Your neighbor’s bobblehead. Thought you might like one,” he told her, then disappeared.

  Dena tore open the packaging and pulled out the figurine wrapped in bubble wrap. It was a six-inch-high hockey player with the number thirty-two on his jersey. She smiled at the uncanny resemblance it bore to Quinn Sterling.

  When she went home that evening she set it on the shelf above her desk. She was at her desk when there was a knock on her door. Hoping it might be Quinn, she was disappointed to see her brother outside her apartment.

  “Don’t look so happy to see me,” he said with sarcasm.

  She pulled him by the arm and urged him inside. “I am happy to see you. My mind was on something else, that’s all.”

  He glanced over her shoulder to the computer station. “What? Work? You’re not still at it, are you?”

  “I’m doing a freelance project. Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” he asked innocently.

  “Like I’m doing something wrong.”

  He let that statement dangle and handed her three boxes. “Lisa sent me over with these.”

  “Ooh, the Girl Scout cookies!” She accepted them with enthusiasm.

  “Bethany wanted to deliver them personally, but she’s got a bad cold. Lisa’s been sneezing, too, so I was elected to be the delivery boy. You got time for a cup of coffee?” He held up his other hand, which contained a Starbucks bag.

  “Sure. Take off your coat and I’ll crack open these cookies,” she said, pulling the cellophane from one of the boxes.

  He hung his
red plaid jacket on one of the hooks near the door, then glanced at her computer monitor. “Do you work every night?”

  “No, not every night,” she said, again feeling on the defensive. “The newsletter I’m doing now is a piece of cake compared to the project I’m working on at Delaney.”

  He studied her face. “You work too hard. You know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “I have to. I need to make up for lost time. Have you forgotten? I spent four years in marketing before I switched careers.”

  He chuckled. “You’re only twenty-nine. You’ve plenty of time to make a name for yourself in the advertising world.”

  “I know,” she said placatingly.

  “So why burn the candle at both ends?”

  “Because I want to.” She reached for one of the coffees and sat down.

  “Don’t say that. You’re starting to sound like Dad.”

  “I will never let myself become like Dad,” she vowed, putting the emphasis on never. “I care about family, which is why I’m not going to even think about having one of my own until I’ve reached my career goals. As you said, I am only twenty-nine. Lots of women are starting families in their late thirties and even early forties.” She took a sip of coffee, then said, “Now, let’s talk about something other than work and eat some of these cookies.”

  He sat down beside her and plucked a chocolate-covered cookie from the carton. “I remember when you used to sell these things.”

  “Me, too. I had the nicest troop leader. It was Mrs. Bremer. Remember her? Tall lady with glasses…taught piano lessons.” When he nodded she added, “She was an inspiration. I think I had more badges on my sash than any other Girl Scout in Iowa.”

  “Mom would groan every time you brought another one home,” Ryan recalled with a nostalgic smile. “She hated having to sew.”

  “She didn’t sew them on. Grandma did,” Dena pointed out.

  “Grandma did a lot of things for us,” he said soberly. “She was more like our mother.”

  Dena nodded. “I still miss her.”

  “Yeah, I do, too.” He paused, then said, “What about Mom? Do you miss her?”

  Startled that he would even ask that question, she said, “What?”

  “Do you miss her?” he repeated.

  “No, why would I? She’s been out of my life longer than she was ever in it. I can hardly remember what she looks like.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was the way Dena wished it could be. She didn’t want to remember a woman who’d turned her back on her children.

  “She’s never tried to get in touch with you?”

  “No. Why? Have you talked to her?” Dena found herself holding her breath while she waited for his answer.

  “Not recently.”

  “But you have talked to her since she left us, haven’t you?”

  He nodded, his eyes on the coffee in his hand.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged. “I thought about it, but you were at boarding school and having enough problems….” He trailed off.

  “Did she contact you, or did you look for her?”

  “Lisa went on the Internet. Mom’s in New York.”

  “I don’t care where she is,” Dena said sharply.

  He nodded in understanding. “Anyway, we discovered nothing had changed.”

  “Did you think it would have?”

  “It was right after Jeremy was born. Lisa thought she’d want to know that she was a grandmother.”

  “Ha!” It was not a happy sound. “She didn’t even want to be a mother. Why would she want to be a grandmother?”

  “Unfortunately, she didn’t.”

  No matter how hard she tried, Dena couldn’t prevent the sharp pain that cut through her chest. She swallowed with difficulty, then said, “How can she be so cold?”

  Ryan reached over to squeeze her hand. “It’s still painful for you, isn’t it?”

  “Isn’t it for you?” She gazed into eyes full of compassion.

  “No, it isn’t,” he said calmly, and she could see that he was telling the truth. “Maybe because I was almost eighteen when she walked out on us.” He shrugged. “It all seems like such a long time ago. Besides, I have my own family now. And someday you will have one, too, and then it won’t hurt so much.”

  Dena nodded, although she wasn’t convinced that either statement was true. Judging by her experience with men, she sometimes wondered if she’d ever be a mother and wife. And even after sixteen years, the pain of her mother walking out on her still resonated in her heart.

  She didn’t want to talk about such things. “Maybe we should change the subject.”

  “Good idea. Before I forget, Lisa said I should mention our anniversary. It’s the second weekend in May.”

  “Planning ahead, are we?” she asked with a quirky smile.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’d like to take her away for the weekend, but before I make reservations, I need to line up a sitter for the kids.”

  He looked at her, waiting for her response. After a couple of moments of dead air, she said, “You want me to stay with the kids?”

  “Would you mind?”

  “No, I’d love to do it, but…” She paused, wondering how to explain that she wasn’t sure they’d want her to stay with them. “They don’t know me very well.”

  “It’s still two months away, and by then, you’ll have been over enough that you’ll probably be sick of them.”

  “The other problem is I’m not very good with kids. I mean, I haven’t exactly had a lot of experience.”

  “Jeremy’s twelve. He’ll point you in the right direction if you have any problems.” Ryan obviously thought that was the end of the discussion. He got up and walked over to her desk and picked up the bobblehead of Quinn Sterling. He tapped its head. “Where did you get this?”

  “Delaney worked on the promotion. They’re giving them away at a game next week.”

  “Jeremy would love one if you can get your hands on an extra. He’s a big Cougar fan.”

  “He can get his own if he goes to the game with me next Tuesday. Think he’d like to take his aunt and be her guide to professional hockey?”

  He chuckled. “Are you kidding! He’s going to go nuts when he hears you’re taking him to a Cougar game. But are you sure you want to go with a twelve-year-old boy?”

  “You said he knows hockey like the back of his hand.”

  “He does, but I should warn you. A twelve-year-old boy at a hockey game can be…well, a little boisterous.”

  She held up both hands. “I’m warned.”

  “So how did you get the tickets?”

  “Through work. I told you about that calendar we did with the Minnesota celebrities. Quinn Sterling is on it.”

  “So you’ve talked to him, then?”

  “Yeah, why?” she asked nonchalantly.

  He shrugged. “I was just wondering what he’s really like.”

  “He’s okay. He was polite,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “I have proofs from the photo shoot we did with him.” She found the glossies on her desk and handed them to her brother. “Here.”

  “I don’t suppose you could get him to autograph one of these for Jeremy?” he asked as he flipped through the pictures.

  She shrugged. “If I see him. He’s not home much.”

  “That would be great.” Ryan glanced at his watch. “I’ve gotta go. Have to pick up Jeremy from his game. He’s going to be so excited when he hears what you have planned.” He reached for his jacket.

  “I’ll call Lisa and let her know what time I’ll be by to pick him up.”

  “Thanks, Dena. It’s a nice thing you’re doing for Jeremy. I know you could have taken someone from Delaney.”

  “I’d rather take Jeremy because I know he’ll enjoy the game.”

  “He sure will. The question is, will you?”

  DENA DIDN’T FIND OUT the answer to that question because on Tuesday afternoon she got tied up in a
meeting about the soy nuts campaign that lasted until well after the Excel Center had been emptied of its hockey fans. At the last minute she’d had to call Ryan to come get the tickets so that he could take Jeremy to see the Cougars play.

  The following morning, when her brother phoned to tell her what a great game she’d missed, she felt twinges of regret. Not only because she’d wanted to see Quinn play, but because he’d sent her the tickets and she had had to give them away.

  That night when she got home from work, she knocked on his door, hoping he’d be in so that she could thank him personally. She also wanted to explain why she hadn’t been able to go to the game. However, he wasn’t home and the rest of the week passed without her seeing him.

  On Saturday morning she went down to the kitchen for breakfast, hoping she might run into him. The only person she saw was Leonie, who reminded Dena that she was hosting her annual Goodbye to Winter party that night. Dena was not fond of parties, and, after a hectic week at work, all she wanted to do was curl up with a good book in the privacy of her apartment.

  And she would have done just that had Krystal not come to her door dressed in green velveteen pants, a glittering pin in the shape of a star on her hip and a sparkly gold camisole. “I came to get you for the party.”

  “I’m not going.” She motioned toward her computer. “I have all this work…”

  “You can’t work on Saturday night.”

  “Who says?” Dena asked with a wry smile.

  “Me.” Krystal walked past her into the apartment. “Besides, Leonie is going to be so hurt if you don’t at least put in an appearance.”

  Dena groaned. “Please tell me she won’t care that I’m not there.”

  “What do you think? This is her one big bash of the year. And she’s such a dear.” If her intent was to make Dena feel guilty, she was succeeding. “Can’t you come down for just a few minutes? You know, put in an appearance and then leave?”

  Dena didn’t want to. She wouldn’t know anyone except Krystal and Leonie. And Quinn, a tiny voice reminded her. She eyed Krystal’s clothing. “I’m not dressed for a party…not a fancy one, anyway.”

  “This isn’t fancy,” she said, flicking her wrist at her pants. “And you look great in what you’re wearing.”