Regarding The Tycoon's Toddler.... Mary Wilson Anne

he serious? The man was totally unreadable when he looked at her, so she said the truth. “I was just looking at this place. I mean, it’s big enough to house a small nation and then some. It’s huge.”

      He glanced at the room. “I guess it is. But it’s just an office.”

      “Nice office,” she murmured.

      “Can I ask you something?”

      She was wasting precious time. “I’m not finished. I didn’t mean to give you the impression that that was all there was.”

      “It’s not about child care. I wanted to know where you heard the things you repeated in the stairwell.”

      Obviously the man wasn’t about to forget, so she had to watch every word. Being vague was her best bet. “Why?”

      “Well, from where I sit, you’re not a long-term employee around here. You don’t own stock in the company, do you?”

      “Of course not.”

      “Then, where did you get all that from?”

      She could say How stupid do you think people around here are? but she caught herself. Vague. She had to be vague and unoffensive. “I just listened to some people around here talking. It seemed to be the main topic of conversation. I told you, I didn’t mean to offend. I have this terrible habit of just saying what I think, and I’m working on changing that.”

      He shrugged, tugging at his cuffs again. “Maybe you should,” he said.

      She felt fire in her face. But thankfully he never saw it. He turned to get his briefcase, picked it up and said, “Go on. We don’t have much time.”

      Chapter Four

      “Okay.” But she couldn’t think of what she’d been saying. She took a stab at it. “I…I really think I need to make the point that being there for a child is only part of the equation in good child care. This isn’t glorified baby-sitting, no matter what you might think.”

      “It’s not?” he asked, one dark eyebrow lifting slightly. “Sounds like it is to me.”

      “Well, I guess it could be called baby-sitting on one level, but it’s much more than that. There are so many layers to child care, so many nuances that people don’t see. But the kids know.”

      “You sound as if you’ve had a lot of experience with children. Any of your own?”

      “No, but I’ve been involved—” He was on the move again, and she went with him, trying to regroup as he crossed to the door and snapped off the lights. Only the low light of a moon rising in the sky over Houston lit the room. “I love children and I want what’s best for them,” she said, stopping by him in the dimness. “That’s why I wanted—”

      “What are your qualifications for all of this?” He cut her off as he walked away from the outer door, heading across to the side of the room and a set of closed, double doors.

      She hurried after him. “I have a degree in Early Childhood Development. I’m working on my masters.”

      As she talked, she watched him push a single brass button on the wall by the doors. The doors opened, and light spilled into the darkened room from a single elevator car. He stepped inside, stirring the air around Lindsey, then turned with the light at his back. For a moment he was a dark shadow with brightness behind him, and her dream was there. An open escape to something, or someone. And the light. She bit her lip hard to bring herself back to reality. This wasn’t a dream. It was reality—sharp, hard reality. All she had to do was step into the car with him, turn, face the doors, go down twenty floors and keep talking. She could do that.

      He was talking, saying something about being impressed that she was going for her master’s degree. He shrugged, his image becoming clearer as her eyes adjusted to the light.

      “I barely got a law degree.”

      She stood very still, trying to get air in her lungs, but having no luck at all.

      He motioned her into the car. “Come on. It’s working. Don’t worry about it. They were supposed to have the whole system in top shape by today. I’ve used the stairs too much lately. We can talk about your education on the way down and figure out how overqualified you are for what you do.”

      She went forward into the small space. She liked small spaces—always had. They meant safety. But she wasn’t sure it would be that way with this man.

      Lindsey hugged her purse to her middle and turned to face the doors as they slid shut. They were mirrored doors that bounced back a slightly distorted version of Lindsey Atherton next to Matthew Terrel. But they gave an illusion of more space.

      “How long have you been interested in child care?” he asked, and it startled her slightly to hear his deep voice confined by the small space.

      She’d been interested in how kids were treated ever since she’d found out it wasn’t normal for a six-year-old to have to hide in a closet to feel safe when they were left in a house alone. But he didn’t want to hear that any more than she wanted to share it with a stranger, so she gave him facts.

      “Four years…professionally.”

      “Where do you stand on discipline?” he asked as the elevator started smoothly downward.

      She could feel him watching her in the reflective doors, but didn’t look at him. “Discipline?” she asked, easing her hold on her upper arms and staring at the place where the two doors met. “I…I think a child needs limits.” She exhaled. “They need rules and they need to be responsible for their own actions.”

      “Agreed,” he murmured.

      She looked up at the floor indicator, the floors slipping by so quickly that this would be over almost before it had begun. She girded herself and turned to look at him and not at a secondhand image in the mirrored doors.

      “Listen, we need to talk about the money,” she said, getting right to the point before she ran out of time. “Unless there’s enough money, this is nothing more than glorified baby-sitting, and you can get that for a couple of dollars an hour from some thirteen-year-old who wants to buy makeup at the mall after school. This is much more than that.”

      “So, if you throw money at it, you end up with babysitters who are getting their master’s degrees?” he asked.

      Anger was there, mixed with frustration, and she felt fire in her face. But she didn’t have the luxury of indulging her emotions. She couldn’t afford to snap back at him, so she made herself take a breath and keep control. “No, if you invest in it, you get quality child care. And you can get people who love what they do.”

      He glanced at his watch as she spoke, then his gaze met hers again. “I don’t expect love—just value for money paid.”

      If Lindsey had a wish coming to her, she would wish for this man to have a heart, and for her to have more time to find that heart. But wishing never worked. She learned that early on in life. So, short of throwing herself physically at him and hog-tying him in the elevator, the meeting was over. She knew it. She’d lost.

      “Then you’re settling for less than you should,” she said, knowing that she had nothing to lose now.

      “I don’t settle for anything,” he said tightly.

      At the same time the world jerked violently. Lindsey felt the floor lurch under her, and she was flying forward. In that split second she felt as if she were reliving that moment on the stairs when she collided with the man. But this time it was nothing she did. Her purse flew out of her hands, and she was thrown towards the stranger. She was clutching his jacket with both hands, and their bodies connected.

      It took Zane a full second to realize that it was the elevator stopping violently, and in that second Lindsey came right at him. He felt a stinging in his