Baby in My Arms
Auteur·e
Madeline Harper
Lectures
15,1K
Chapitres
13
Chapter One
Kate took a wrong step, swore to herself and slipped on the ice. Regaining her balance, she came to a screeching halt.
“I’ll never learn,” she said aloud as she grabbed a parking meter and held on, surveying the sidewalk ahead. She hadn’t noticed any patches of ice. But that was the problem; they were never obvious, especially in Denver. This was December weather unlike anything she’d ever known.
And that was under normal circumstances. Today, besides her briefcase and large handbag, there were a couple of unusual extras—the diaper bag over her shoulder and the year-old baby in a stroller beside her.
“No one’s going to believe this,” she said as the wind came up and whipped the scarf away from her face. She lowered her head and pointed herself and all her gear toward the office building ahead.
“Looks like you need some help, ma’am.” A rotund Santa appeared beside her. “You and your baby.”
“She’s not my baby—” Kate began, and then shrugged as Santa held the door open wide.
She forged through it, muttering her thanks, and became enveloped in the warmth of the glorious indoors. But it was only moments before the comforting heat turned into an uncomfortable steamy blast. So far, this was what winter in Denver meant—wrap up to keep from freezing outside and then strip everything off inside to avoid roasting.
Kate peeled her way out of the scarf, coat and gloves. Then she crouched beside the baby.
“Hat’s off,” she said, untying Amanda’s hood and pushing it back. She smoothed the soft golden curls from the little girl’s face and took off her knitted cap. “When we get upstairs, Tina can help you out of that snowsuit.” Otherwise known as a straitjacket, she added to herself.
Amanda made a swipe for her cap. Kate pulled it away but not quickly enough. The baby’s grip was amazing. She looked up at Kate, bright blue eyes wide. “No?”
“No,” Kate announced, then, “oh, well, why not?” She released the cap as she pushed the stroller into the elevator. “Might as well chew on that as some other things I can think of.” Besides, if Amanda didn’t have it she’d cry, and once she started crying, nothing could stop her.
The elevator was empty, and Kate gave a tired sigh as she leaned against the wall. Nothing in her twentysix years had prepared her for instant motherhood.
The doors opened on the third floor, and Kate stumbled out, pushing the stroller ahead and dragging everything else behind—but, once again, not fast enough. The closing whoosh of the doors grabbed the diaper bag.
“Damn.” She fought the bag out of the clutches of the elevator, kicking, cursing and pulling until she was victorious. Then she looked down to see that Amanda had dropped the cap and was staring at her, a look of pure surprise on her chubby pink face.
“What’s the matter? Was it my curses? Well, stick around and you’ll hear more,” Kate said as she picked up the bonnet and pushed the stroller through the glass doors into the offices of Executive Search Services.
Her assistant, Tina Florio, looked up in amazement. “You brought the baby to work?”
“Please, Tina, I’m not in the mood for accusations—”
“It was just a comment,” Tina assured her.
“Hmm,” Kate replied. “Then let me explain this baby thing. First, the sitter didn’t show, and I couldn’t find her anywhere. Seems she decided to go away for the Christmas holidays without telling me. Next, I called five—yes, five—day-care centers. Not a one had openings. Then I called a nanny service. Shall I tell you what she said?”
“No openings?” Tina guessed.
“More emphatic—‘ten days before Christmas-surely, you’re not serious.’ When I said I was perfectly serious, all I got was silence. She thought I was insane.” Kate hung her ankle-length red coat in the closet.
“You know what, Tina?” She continued, answering her own question, “I believe I am insane—for taking on motherhood with no preparation. But I had no choice. Amanda was alone. She had no one.” Kate blinked back tears. “I know she’s terribly confused about all this.”
“Kids her age are resilient,” Tina assured her.
“I don’t know about that, but she’s certainly a little fighter—especially when it’s time to dress. I spent nearly an hour trying to get her into all this paraphernalia—diapers, undershirt, that little embroidered blouse, the overalls, socks—and the shoes, which were impossible. She scrunched up her toes so I couldn’t get the damned things on. As for the snowsuit—” Kate threw up her hands.
Tina’s face wore the beginnings of a smile.
“Don’t laugh,” Kate warned. “You haven’t heard anything yet. Have you ever tried to feed one of these—” She was momentarily speechless.
“Babies?” Tina offered.
“I’m only kidding. She’s some baby, but every mealtime is a war. This morning she refused to open her mouth for the longest time. When I finally got food down her she smiled at me innocently and threw up on my blouse!”
Tina made a sound that was a near-laugh.
“Don’t—” Kate said sternly.
“I won’t,” Tina promised, pressing her lips together. “That’s the first thing they teach us at business school, not to laugh at our employers.”
“Oh, sure,” Kate said, “and you got an A, right?”
“You said it,” Tina replied as she picked up Amanda. “Let me help. I have four younger sisters….” She extricated the baby from her snowsuit. “You’re a little doll, Amanda. Look at those big blue eyes. Absolutely adorable.”
The baby made a grab for Tina’s shiny black hair, but Tina eluded her. “Forget the hair, kid.” Tina looked up at Kate. “What are you going to do with her during your appointments?”
“I don’t have any today,” Kate answered. “This close to Christmas, no one’s looking for managerial staff. They’re too busy planning parties.”
“All except for one.”
Kate thought about taking off her boots and putting on heels, but she couldn’t muster the energy. “What one?” she asked.
“The guy in your office.”
“Be serious.” There was no way she could handle appointments today, not after a night with Amanda. The baby had woken up at two in the morning, and Kate had tried every trick in the book to get her back to sleep. Failing that, and reminding herself that this baby was as traumatized as she, Kate had played with Amanda, invented games, walked her around the apartment, hoping she would tire. She didn’t; Kate did.
“I am serious,” Tina insisted. “The computer guy’s in your office. The one ESS brought in to secure the system, remember? So rival placement services can’t hack in and steal our client list. He’s the one you stood up last week when you got hit by the car—”
“Oh, Lord,” Kate moaned. “That guy. Just what I need, a computer nerd talking about bits and bytes and macros…”
“I’ll be glad to deal with him,” Tina offered, her brown eyes ingenuous.
“Umm. Well…”
Tina headed toward Kate’s office.
“No,” Kate decided. “I better handle it. Could you look after Amanda? There’s a bottle somewhere in that bag. If she takes it, maybe she’ll sleep for a while.”
“It’s only ten in the morning, Kate.”
“She has day and night confused. She was up most of the night, so possibly she’ll sleep….” Her voice drifted off, and Tina shrugged, a little unhappily, Kate thought. “Okay, I know this isn’t in your job description—”
“I’ll give it a try,” Tina agreed. “Just promise you’ll call me if you need any help with Mr. Blackeagle.”
Again, Kate saw the glint in her secretary’s eyes. “Black eagle? I thought it was just Eagle—Eagle Security.”
“That’s the company name. The man’s a Native American. And what a native. You’ll see.”
NOT STOPPING to figure out Tina’s cryptic remarks, Kate went into her office with the nerd image still in her mind—short, skinny and bespeckled.
The man at her computer terminal couldn’t be the nerd, not with black denim pants hugging long legs, black leather jacket stretched across broad shoulders, and certainly not with ebony hair pulled back in a ponytail. But there was no one else in the room so the nerd was, in a word, the hunk. Ben Blackeagle.
“Mr. Blackeagle?” she asked.
He turned to look at her, and Kate tried not to stare. It was difficult. His eyes were dark and penetrating, like a bird’s, but not friendly—more like a bird of prey. His nose was strong and aquiline, his cheekbones high and sculptured and his skin the color of pale copper. His chin was firm, squared and stubborn. She caught the gleam of a gold stud in his left ear.
What she couldn’t take her eyes away from was his wide, sensuous mouth, which, as she watched, he drew into a tight, narrow line. “Ms. McNair? How nice of you to come to your office,” he drawled. “I figured you for a no-show again.”
Kate decided to ignore the rude remark. After all, he had a point, which she didn’t feel like getting into. She offered a friendly smile and her hand.
“Kate McNair. Sorry about being late today As for our first appointment…” She decided to let that one go. He could finish it however he chose.
He didn’t respond but took her hand with a grasp that was brief but powerful. She had just enough time to notice that his hands were strong and sinewy, with long lean fingers.
He dropped her hand and looked at her with his almost black eyes. They fixed on hers. “Our first appointment,” he repeated. And then he waited, expectantly.
“Well…” She was usually sure of herself, able to talk with anyone, never intimidated. What was happening here?
He didn’t shift his gaze. It demanded a response.
But wait a minute, she thought. I’m employing him, not the other way around. I don’t owe this guy an explanation. Then, suddenly, she was explaining. “Ten days ago, I was on my way to the office, and I got hit by a car—”
He looked at her skeptically. “You recovered quickly. Nothing serious, I see.”
“Maybe not serious in medical terms, but it’s all relative, and I was very badly bruised and shaken,” she said defensively. “I was taken to the emergency room and later sent home. It took me several days to recover. Then the baby came—”
“Wait a minute. You had a baby—at home—just days after being hit by a car?”
She laughed. “No, no. I—well, I kind of inherited the baby, my cousin’s daughter. Libby—and her husband, Derek—are, that is, they were the baby’s par ents. They were in a cominuter plane crash….” She swallowed hard.
He was silent, politely quiet and serious.
“They were both killed.” It was still difficult for her to talk about.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
She nodded. “As the closest relative, I kind of inherited the baby and we’re both trying to adjust.” As she completed her explanation, she crossed the room, assuming a more businesslike demeanor, wishing she’d changed into her other shoes.
Ben leaned back against the computer table and crossed one ankle over the other, eyeing his potential employer. Kate McNair, manager of Executive Search Services, was like many of the career women he’d met. Nothing about her was unusual or unexpected. Her brown suit was well tailored and severe, her blouse cream-colored and understated. Like her office, she was neat and professional.
But something was different, Ben thought. It could be the red hair. It wasn’t the expected strawberryblond red, but red-red. He thought of the flames of a plains fire, whipping up against the harsh white snow. There wasn’t another red quite like that, and he’d never seen it in a woman’s hair.
A few wisps of that fiery hair slipped away from her French twist, and there was something—it looked like a stain—on the lapel of her dress-for-success blouse. This young executive on the way up, he mused, somehow missed the mark and became a real person.
Ben considered himself an expert in two areascomputers and women. In both cases, he knew when they were accessible to him and when they weren’t. Kate McNair was not his type, although the statistics seemed right: about five feet six inches, slender, small nose, full sensual lips, green eyes. But something didn’t work. He could see it in the tired look in her eyes. Parenthood could do that to a person. She was attractive, he decided, but a career woman with a baby was definitely not for him.
“I’ve never known anyone who inherited a kid,” he remarked.
“Neither have I, actually,” she said, adding, with a sigh, “I’m as surprised as anyone. I didn’t expect—” She caught herself. “But we’re not here to talk about babies.”
“You’re right about that, Ms. McNair.” His voice was cool, uninvolved.
“Call me Kate, please.”
“Sure, Kate. I’m Ben. Your home office, back in New York, wants this computer system to be hackerproofed. Have you experienced any problems?” he asked in a voice that she found suddenly brusque.
“Not yet, but I’ve only been in the Denver office about six weeks.” She dropped her briefcase on the desk and turned back toward him.
Ben’s six-foot-two-inch frame and broad shoulders seemed to fill the room. It was too early in the morning to be faced with someone so…so overwhelmingly male. Even though she hated to admit it, Kate thought, he was incredibly sexy.
What was it? Easy, she told herself, it was the great body, the dark hungry eyes, the husky, growling voice. No wonder Tina had wanted to get into the office with him!
Kate tripped the latch of her briefcase, opened it and looked at him over the raised black leather top. “I hear that some of the other offices have been raided by rival placement services. They hack in and steal client lists—”
“Applicants looking for jobs?”
“No, they usually hit the corporate lists, the companies that hire staff through ESS,” she told him.
He turned back to the computer, his fingers moving quickly over the keyboard. In less than a minute, a list of ESS corporate clients appeared on the screen.
“How’d you do that?” she asked.
“If I told you, then you wouldn’t need my services.” He grinned. “The fact is, your system is much too easy to crack even without your password. But in this case, I had the word.”
“Who told you?”
“No one. I guessed. On the third try—DOS.”
“How—”
“You’d be surprised how many people use computer terms like mac, doc, dir—and DOS.”
“Well, it was so easy to remember, I thought…” Her voice drifted off.
“Don’t worry. Just about any three-letter password can be broken. Besides, that’s not the only way for hackers to get in. I’ll block access wherever possible, but first, I’ll set you up with a five-letter password that’ll be more difficult to access.”
“Don’t make it some crazy combination of consonants that I won’t be able to remember,” she asked.
“That’s the problem with you people. You take this so lightly.”
“‘You people’ isn’t really me. I’m not a computer type,” she explained. “That’s Tina’s area. I guess I’m not what you call ‘computer friendly.’”
“But you do use the computer?”
“Yes, sometimes, but—”
“Then you need to become ‘friendly,’” he insisted.
Kate silently fumed. She’d had an awful night. Night? She’d had a horrible ten days. Now some computer jock was lecturing her. Through gritted teeth, she asked, “What can I do to help you get started?”
“Have breakfast with me.”
“I’m sorry?” She wasn’t going to be put on.
“Let’s have breakfast,” he insisted.
He’d gotten on her case for missing one appointment, being late for another and not being computer friendly. Now he wanted to have breakfast with her! “I can’t do that. I’ve missed too much work. First there was the accident. Then Amanda arrived….” She was repeating herself. And besides, why did she think she had to explain to the man hired to solve a few computer problems? She added pointedly, “We can send out for coffee.”
“But I want more than coffee. I want a real breakfast. Eggs. Hash browns. Biscuits. I was out late last night—on a special project.” A sly smile played around his lips.
Sure, she thought. There was no way his special project had anything to do with computers. “I don’t have time,” she said stubbornly.
“Look, I’m going to breakfast. If you come with me, we can get all the talk about the system over with. Then we can both go back to work. You do your thing. I do my thing, and I’m outta here by five o’clock, my job over and done.”
“No, I—”
“Suit yourself. It’s up to you.” He spoke in a voice that was pleasant but firm.
Kate sighed. Ben Blackeagle was obviously going to do things his way or no way. She was too tired to argue. What did an hour more or less mean in a life that was totally out of control anyway? Besides, she was hungry, too.
“I suppose I could bring the baby—”
“The baby’s here?”
She nodded. “Maybe Tina will watch her.”
Ben raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Your secretary doesn’t look like the baby-sitter type.”
Kate couldn’t help laughing. He was right about that. With her long legs, high boots, short skirts, moussed hair, perfect features augmented by fabulous makeup, Tina had her own agenda. Baby-sitting didn’t figure in it. In fact, ESS was only a stopping-off place on her way to a modeling career.
But she had all those little sisters, Kate remembered. “I’ll ask,” she decided.
Abruptly she went through the door into the outer office where Tina appeared to be huddled over her computer; in fact, she was huddled over Amanda. She looked up, her finger with its salon-manicured fingernail touching her lips.
“Sssh,” she whispered. She’d lowered the back of the stroller, and Amanda was sleeping. “She’s beat.”
“Who isn’t?” Kate asked. She followed up quickly with another question. “Since she’s down-and-out, would you watch her while I have breakfast with Mr. Blackeagle?”
Tina raised a perfectly sculptured eyebrow.
“He’s hungry.” Getting no sympathetic response, she added, “And my best bet is to work with him over breakfast.”
“Understood,” Tina said.
“Then you’ll watch the baby?”
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere,” Tina replied. “But bring me back coffee and a Danish.”
“You’ve got it,” Kate said. “And it’s my treat.” She reached for her coat on the wall hook, and suddenly Ben was there, holding it for her.
“Well, Little Red Riding Hood, met any wolves recently?” he asked.
Kate glanced quickly at Tina and saw her secretary hide a grin.
“I’m not crazy about red,” she admitted. “But when I was ready to transfer here from Phoenix, I had to put together a new wardrobe. This was the only coat I could find that was heavy enough for Denver.”
He looked at her speculatively.
“This color wouldn’t have been my first choice,” she added. Why was she so defensive? Because Ben seemed to know how to push all the right buttons.
He chuckled. “You should be warm enough,” he said easily. The long red coat covered her from neck to ankles. He knew what was underneath, and it was a totally business look, but he could always imagine something more interesting.
“We’ll be back soon,” Kate assured, ignoring Ben’s remark—and his wry look.
At the elevator, Ben pushed the button and commented, “Cute kid.”
That made Kate relax a little as she agreed, “I think so, too, but she’s really active, like any one-year-old, I guess.” The elevator doors slid open and they stepped in. “She’s learning to walk, and she’s ready to practice anytime—especially in the middle of the night.”
“Hmm,” he agreed. “Actually, I was talking about your secretary.”
“Calling her a cute kid?” Kate asked, aghast.
Ben laughed.
“You’re not serious?”
“Of course not,” he replied.
She walked along beside him, willing to believe that he was joking, but not quite sure. Ben Blackeagle was definitely an enigma. His next remark added to the confusion.
“Amanda is obviously your first child. Otherwise you’d know they don’t run on schedules like an office.”
Kate looked sideways at him. Was he speaking from experience? She wasn’t about to ask whether he had a wife—or children—of his own.
“I saw a restaurant on the corner,” he told her as they left the building. “You want to go there?”
“Sure,” she said. “That’s as good a choice as any.”
They walked along the slushy street, Kate hurrying to match his long strides. By the time they reached the corner, she looked around nervously. Since the accident, she’d been anxious, especially at intersections. But with Ben beside her, she felt more secure.
Besides, there were no pedestrians except her and Ben and only a few cars at the crossing. He offered his arm and she took it. They stepped off the curb into the street.
That was when she heard the loud, cracking sound, like a car backfiring. But different. Closer. Louder.
Then Ben yelled, “Get down. Now!”
She felt the weight of his body falling on her, knocking her back onto the sidewalk as another shot rang out.
TWO POLICEMEN answered the call—a young man, eager and alert, and an older woman, bored and laconic. By the time they arrived, Ben was settled in the coffee shop, finishing up a plate of fried eggs, hash browns, sausage, bacon and toast. Huddled over a cup of coffee, Kate glowered at him. They’d been shot at, and he was feeding his face, acting as if nothing had happened.
The young officer recapped information he’d gathered, reading from notes. “No one in the coffee shop, the newsstand or the office across the street saw anything —no shooter, not even a suspicious-looking character. There’s not a single witness.”
His partner lit a cigarette, ignoring the No Smoking signs strategically placed on the tables. “Drive-by shooting,” she said.
Ben finished his eggs and wiped his mouth without comment.
Kate couldn’t believe his nonchalance, especially when she was so involved. “In this part of town? I haven’t lived in Denver very long, but this doesn’t seem like gang territory to me.”
The young officer responded. “It’s not, but the lines are beginning to blur, unfortunately. If they want to leave their turf, nothing’s stopping them.”
“But why would they shoot at us?” she asked.
“We don’t even know that’s what happened. But if it is, you two were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Kate’s hand shook as she picked up her cup. The coffee was bitter—and cold. Grimacing, she put it down. “Seems to be happening to me a lot recently-being in the wrong place.”
The young officer leaned forward. “What do you mean by that, ma’am?”
“About ten days ago, I was on First Avenue in Cherry Creek, waiting for a light to change. The sidewalk was crowded with shoppers, and I was jostled, pushed in front of a car.”
Ben looked up, suddenly curious.
“You think there’s a connection between that incident and this one?” the officer wondered.
“I imagine there’s an easy explanation,” the policewoman commented. “Your boots.”
“My boots?” Kate asked.
“Yes. High heels with leather soles.”
Kate felt three pairs of eyes riveted to her boots. She pulled her feet under the table.
“They’re no good on ice. You should think about getting some real boots with traction. You probably just slipped,” the woman continued.
“Did you file a police report, Ms. McNair?” the young man asked.
She shook her head. “No one saw anything so I could only assume that it was an accident.”
He studied his notes. “And both of you deny having any enemies.”
Kate frowned. Deny having enemies. That made them seem at fault. “None,” she said firmly.
“Same for me,” Ben replied, speaking up for the first time—now that breakfast was over. “All my customers are satisfied.”
“You two known each other long?” the woman asked.
“We met this morning over business,” Kate replied. “There’s no connection between us at all. No one could possibly know we were going to be together today,” she added firmly.
The woman stood up. “That covers all the bases. Come on, Riley, we got to get moving.”
“That’s it?” Kate asked indignantly.
“We’ll make a report, ma’am,” the young officer explained politely. “But it doesn’t look like the shooter was aiming at you or Mr. Blackeagle. We found one of the bullets….”
“Ballistics!” Kate exclaimed. “You can trace it.”
The policewoman shook her head. “All we can get is the make of the gun. I can tell you now it was probably a rifle.”
“Well, then—” Kate began.
“This is Colorado, Ms. McNair.”
Kate looked at her, frowning.
The young officer clarified his partner’s remark. “Lots of folks own rifles out here.”
The woman was more impatient. “You and Mr. Blackeagle both deny having enemies. There’ve been no threats. All we can do is wait. If there’s another attempt—”
Kate moaned.
“More than likely it’s an isolated event,” Riley added. “Things like this happen frequently, I’m sorry to say.” He settled his cap firmly on his head. “You have our names and the precinct’s phone number. Call if we can help—or if you think of anything else.”
Kate watched their retreating backs. “I can’t believe it. They’re not going to do anything!”
Ben pushed his empty plate away and waved the waitress over for a refill of his coffee. “They checked for witnesses. They asked questions. No one saw anything. We don’t know who—or what—the target was. Probably some guy, high on drugs or booze, celebrating Christmas early with a little random shooting. As the officer said, things like that happen, Kate.”
She sighed. “I guess you’re right, but I can’t take much more excitement.” She shook her head in wonder. Her life seemed totally out of control, but she tried not to think of that as she managed a tremulous smile. “Thanks, Ben. If you hadn’t knocked me down, I’d be dead.”
“No, I don’t think-”
“Yes, it’s true. I could have been hit by the second shot. Except for you.”
“It was just reflex,” he replied. “Hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“Nope. Just my coat.”
“I hurt your coat?”
She laughed. “No, you didn’t hurt it. You just sort of—mangled it.” Her red coat was lying across a chair, a wide grease smear along the hem, the back soaked with melted snow. She lowered her eyes, remembering how he’d treated her coat—and her, recalling the feeling of his body on hers.
As scared as she’d been when the gunshot sounded, her heart pumping like a runaway engine, she’d still been very aware of him, all hard muscles, shielding her from danger. She raised her eyes to his. They were dark and fathomless.
“After everything that’s happened—getting caught in gunfire, especially—I realize you got more than you bargained for, and I wouldn’t blame you if you called it quits with ESS and canceled the contract,” Kate told him.
“No way. My word is my bond. That’s what makes my company successful.”
“Of course,” she said. “And I’m sure you are successful.”
“When I finish up with ESS, I’ll take a few days off and then I’m heading for Christmas vacation in Puerto Vallarta and some heavy-duty partying,” he replied, in answer to her comment. “Meanwhile, I’m here in Denver being shot at.” He cocked a dark eyebrow. “This is kinda farfetched, but could some of your rivals in the job placement business be jealous enough to take a shot at you?”
She shook her head. “What would that accomplish? ESS would just hire someone to replace me. I haven’t been here long enough for them to care. And I certainly haven’t been here long enough to make any friends—or enemies. So that leaves you. Friends? Enemies?”
“Lots of friends, no enemies.” He finished his coffee and stood up, holding Kate’s coat for her.
“We never got around to talking about securing the system,” she reminded him.
“Don’t worry, it’s not going to be a problem.”
She reached for the bill, but he stopped her. “My treat. And as for your system, I’ll figure it out—before the day is over,” he promised. “Which reminds me, it’s nearly noon now, and Tina must be frantic.”
They stepped out into the cold hard glare of the December day. She stopped, hesitant, until Ben took her elbow and hustled her across the street. Even though he carried on a normal conversation, talking about the computer program, making suggestions, asking questions, the whole time he was watching, wary. There was protection in his big frame and tough-looking leather-clad exterior. His dark clothes, his size, his sense of assurance, all of these worked together to make him a formidable presence.
Once they were inside her office building and on the elevator, she breathed easier, but she couldn’t relax completely. She’d been shot at in broad daylight on her way to breakfast. It didn’t seem possible. It was like a dream. Or, actually a nightmare!
She shivered despite her warm coat and the heat of the elevator. She didn’t like the way her life was going these days—a seemingly uncontrolled slide into chaos. Somehow she had to put the shooting incident behind her and concentrate on her work. The work was the important thing. If she didn’t start producing, the ESS headquarters might regret making her their newest manager. Then she would be out of a job.
She was dedicated, hardworking, on the right track for her career. The problem was, improbable situations kept throwing her off track.
They stepped off the elevator and were met by Tina and Amanda.
One normal-size woman and one little baby, they seemed to take up the entire hall. It was the energy, Kate realized as she watched the two of them, Amanda stumping along on her short, chubby legs, arms over her head, hands held firmly by Tina, who was making some sort of chirping noises, whether to mollify the baby or herself, Kate couldn’t be sure.
“The phone woke her,” Tina explained over her shoulder to Kate as they sailed past.
“I’m sorry, we—” Kate attempted.
“Then she cried, and then she walked, then she cried and walked. God, it took you long enough. And where’s my Danish?”
“I forgot, we had a problem—”
Tina seemed to focus in on her boss. “What happened? Were you hit by another car? Look at your coat!”
Before Kate could explain, Amanda surged forward, pulling Tina along.
“Ma-ma,” she said chirpily. Then she caught sight of Ben and broke into a huge smile.
“Da-da, Da-da!”
