Expecting at Christmas. Charlotte Maclay

Loretta gave her brother a hug when he climbed out.

      “Hey, sis, is that the guy you’re living with?” Roberto asked, eyeing Griffin with the protective instincts of a big brother.

      “I’m not living with him, not like you mean,” she protested.

      “Yeah, well Mama’s not too thrilled about you moving in with some stranger. You oughta be home where she can keep an eye on you, Lori.”

      “There’s no room. Not with Patrice living there. Besides, I need the money.”

      “All the same, it just don’t look right, you shacking up with some guy nobody knows.”

      “I’m not shacking up with him. I’m his butler. Besides, he’s got so many girlfriends, he wouldn’t give me the time of day, even if I were interested. Which I’m not.” No way could Loretta compete with women like that Miss Redhead person. Not that she’d want to. And given her advanced pregnancy, she didn’t imagine any man, most certainly not a well-known millionaire playboy, would give her a second thought Even if she’d want him to. Which she didn’t.

      “Any guy would be lucky to have you, sis. Everybody in the family says so.” Roberto waved to Griffin and called to him. “I’ll have your wheels hooked up and outta here in a minute.”

      “Fne,” Griffin said. “Just be careful. I’d just as soon you didn’t do any more damage than has already been done.”

      “No problema. Since you’re a friend of Lori’s, I’ll even give you a tune-up. No charge.” With another wave, he scooted under the Mercedes to hook up the towing cable, leaving only his overall-clad legs and his work boots sticking out.

      Griffin came closer. “Look, I still think it’d be smart to call a dealership. I wouldn’t want anything—”

      “You worry too much, Mr. Jones. Roberto’s practically a genius when it comes to cars.”

      Her employer didn’t look convinced.

      Roberto scooted back out from under the Mercedes and hopped to his feet. “Piece of cake,” he said with a cocky grin.

      He flipped the lever up on the hydraulic lift and stood back to watch. Slowly the rear end of the car rose and edged toward the truck. It was a beautiful convertible, all shining silver-blue with lots of chrome, colors that matched the owner’s strikingly attractive eyes. Loretta could hardly believe she’d actually had a chance to drive the car, albeit right into a potted palm.

      Griffin’s stress level grew more palpable with each inch the car rose above the driveway. He really ought to increase his intake of vitamin E, Loretta concluded. Or maybe it was vitamin B he needed. She’d have to be sure he had plenty of both. Clearly, he was suffering from too much tension in his life.

      At the instant that thought came to her, something went wrong with the hydraulic lift. With a pop, oil squirted out, spraying all over the Mercedes and pooling on the concrete driveway. The car shook precariously for a moment, then dropped with a crash, the back colliding with the industrial-strength bumper of the tow truck.

      Metal squealed. The Mercedes’s bumper twisted, coming lose from its mooring and jutting up at an odd angle.

      Cringing, Loretta wished she could crawl into a hole right there in the middle of the driveway. But when she met Griffin’s furious gaze, she knew that even a hole dug all the way to China wouldn’t be deep enough to protect her from his righteous anger.

      Her only choice was to do a whole lot of fancy talking. And do it in a hurry.

      Chapter Three

      Griffin couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to be talked out of having Roberto arrested for assault and battery on his Mercedes. Reckless mayhem, at the very least.

      Worse, he’d permitted the incompetent fool to tow his prize car away. Probably to the nearest metal shredder, he thought grimly.

      It had been Loretta’s tears that had done him in. That and her crazy insistence that he was upset only because his yin and yang had gotten out of balance. What he needed was megadoses of vitamins B and E, she assured him between quivering lips.

      Now, how could any reasonable man argue with a combination like that? Particularly when he was scared spitless if she got too upset she might have her baby right there on his driveway.

      He pulled into his parking spot at the headquarters of Compuware, and Loretta’s ancient relic of a car lurched to a stop. He turned off the ignition. For several beats the old Datsun kept on chuffing. Grimacing, he hoped no one had seen him drive up. If he had any sense, he’d park it a block away and hope somebody would steal the damn thing. It wouldn’t do much for his image as a corporate executive and playboy millionaire to be seen driving this crate around town.

      Not that he cared a whole lot, he thought with a grin, thinking about his imp of a butler. He couldn’t remember any woman who’d been so unimpressed with his wealth, much less that he was also her employer. Family was the only thing that counted with her—in this case, her brother, her long-suffering mother, Tía Louisa and a half-dozen other relatives who were counting on Roberto to help support them with his fledgling auto repair service. A virtual army of loved ones Griffin hadn’t been able to fight.

      He didn’t suppose he had that many relations in the entire universe.

      The one he did have—Uncle Matt—wasn’t high on his list of people he owed favors. Ten years ago Matt and Griffin’s father had had a falling out. A feud had started, eventually ending in Matt breaking up the Compuware partnership to start his own company. In the process he nearly bankrupted the firm. The rivalry was still bitter.

      Even so long after the split, Griffin felt a sense of betrayal. Matt had been his favorite uncle—his only one on his father’s side of the family. He’d had to remain loyal to his dad but dammit all, neither one of them had given a darn about him. And he’d loved them both.

      Griffin used his key to let himself in the door of Compuware’s headquarters building, which fronted on Washington Boulevard with the warehouse in back. His footsteps echoed across the empty lobby, and he took the stairs to the third floor.

      Almost the moment he’d set foot in his office, Ralph Brainerd showed up.

      “Have you seen this, Jonesy?” His executive vice president tossed a copy of an early edition of the Saturday LA. Times on his cluttered oak desk. It was folded open to an advertisement for Compuworks, the competition.

      Griffin scanned it quickly. “They’re beating our prices by twenty to fifty dollars on almost every item. How can they do that and make any money?”

      “There’s worse news.”

      “On a day like this?” A day when he’d watched his Mercedes practically being bent in half? “Why am I not surprised?”

      “One of our delivery trucks took a header off an overpass in Simi Valley. Turned about two hundred computers, monitors and printers into scrap.”

      He swore under his breath. “How’s the driver?”

      “Battered but okay. He’ll be off work a couple of weeks. The truck’s totaled. I’ve called the insurance people.”

      “Right.” Griffin sat down in his swivel chair, tilting it back. The springs squeaked. “So tell me how come Compuworks undercuts us every time? They can’t be buying from the suppliers any cheaper than we are.”

      A wiry man with the physique of a cross-country runner, Brainy-Brainerd hooked a hip on the corner of Griffin’s desk. They’d gone to high school together, Ralph the brains of the duo. Later they’d worked side by side in Compuware’s warehouse, sweeping floors and running forklifts. “Maybe the old man isn’t interested in making money anymore.”

      An unlikely possibility, given the way Griffin’s father had ranted on about Uncle Matt being so greedy. “It’s like they know what our bottom-line