The Mommy Makeover. Bonnie K. Winn

next protest would erupt. Now fully alert, despite her fatiguing evening, she was too anxious to stay quiet.

      “So, Malloy, why isn’t your wife home with the kids? Does she work evenings?”

      There was a small moment of silence, then she heard him clear his throat. “I lost my wife when the twins were born.”

      Katelyn felt an immediate sense of remorse for probing at such a painful subject. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

      “You couldn’t,” he replied shortly.

      “Hmm, right.” Katelyn knew when she was in uncharted territory and retreated back into silence.

      Finn apparently caught the message because he was quiet as well, driving them swiftly through the night. It didn’t take long to reach her condo. After she’d exited the limo, Katelyn glimpsed the children through Finn’s open door. Sleeping, they looked like little angels. But she suspected that was an illusion.

      “I have a nine-o’clock meeting at the Republic Bank Building. Be here at eight sharp in the morning.”

      Once again he tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

      FINN WATCHED HER walk inside, but he was almost too tired to appreciate the view. He turned to the car just as Erin woke up crying. Her wails woke her twin brother and Jenny was only a few moments behind. He guessed by the time they got home and he managed to get them to sleep, half the night would be gone. And he’d have to be up early to find a baby-sitter for the day, not to mention a permanent one.

      Eight o’clock sharp, huh? He might be there at eight, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be sharp.

      The drive home was just enough time for the children to deeply fall asleep. Finn tried not to waken them as he carried each one inside. The twins were the easiest. Although they fretted a bit, they settled back to sleep fairly quickly. Jenny, however, was more difficult.

      “I had a dream, Daddy,” she muttered, clinging to him as he tried to put her to bed.

      Patiently, he pushed the damp hair away from her forehead. “What did you dream about, sweetie?”

      “I dreamed I called and called, but no one was there, Daddy.”

      Pain clenched Finn’s heart. He agonized over the time he had to leave the children with sitters. No doubt it was stealing their sense of security. “I’m here now.”

      Jenny had taken her mother’s death hard. Still little more than a baby herself, she had sobbed for her mother. In those first days, Jenny had cried herself to sleep each night in exhaustion. Finn had always picked her up to soothe her, but inevitably Jenny’s cries would waken the twins. Physically, it wasn’t possible to hold a toddler and two newborns at the same time. Despite a succession of housekeepers, there simply wasn’t enough time for the children. That was why Finn had started his limo service, in the hopes of spending more time with them. He stroked her soft, dark hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy’s here.”

      She hiccuped a remaining half-cry. “I miss Mommy.”

      Despite her young age, Jenny had clung to the memories of her mother. Finn had learned the hard way that a traumatic event such as death could remain even in a young child’s memory. Emotion clogged his throat. “I know, honey. I miss her, too.” Finn watched as Jenny settled down a bit, wishing fate hadn’t been so unkind to their family.

      “Daddy, are we ever going to have a mommy again?”

      This time the pain felt worse. Finn knew the children needed a mother. Housekeepers and babysitters were no substitute. And he couldn’t spend as much time with the children as they needed—he had to earn a living. But he was neither inclined nor eager to try the dating scene. And when was there time? As it was, he was running constantly to try and stay on top of things. Any woman who wandered into their chaotic household would no doubt leave shrieking.

      He met Jenny’s questioning eyes. “What makes you ask about a mommy now?”

      Jenny lifted small shoulders in a half-shrug. “Brianna’s mommy is real nice. She makes cookies in the oven, not from the store. And she knows which clothes Barbie wears and she knows how to fix Brianna’s hair into really pretty braids.”

      Finn sighed. All the things he couldn’t do. “But I bet she can’t rebuild an engine.”

      Jenny scrunched her face in girlish disdain. “Icky. Why would girls want to know that?”

      Why indeed? “Maybe we could try that hair thing. Braids, eh?”

      “Uh, huh. French fried braids.”

      Finn drew his brows together. “Braids that look like French fries?”

      “Daddy! They don’t look like French fries, they are French fried.”

      Finn looked at her in puzzlement. What the heck were French fried braids? He wasn’t sure which one of them was confused, but he was fairly certain one of them was. “Tell you what, Jen. I’ll figure out how to make them, okay?”

      “Okay,” she replied reluctantly. Then she lifted large expressive eyes, instant reminders of his late wife, Angela. “But it’s still not the same as having a mommy.”

      Of course not. As hard as he tried, Finn could never replace her mother. There was one thing he could never overcome. He wasn’t a woman.

      Exhausted, Finn hoped that Jenny would fall asleep soon. He would be lucky if he managed to grab even a few hours’ sleep before his early morning assignment. And he guessed his new boss would have little tolerance if he showed up late. She might look dynamite, but unfortunately she was as equally explosive.

      Jenny curled her hand trustingly in his and Finn resigned himself to staying by her side. Perhaps Ms. Amhurst would wake up on the right side of the bed in the morning. She couldn’t be as tough as she appeared.

      Chapter Two

      Katelyn rechecked her watch, drummed her fingers over the wine-colored leather of her briefcase and then tapped her shoe impatiently. Five minutes after eight. Hadn’t she told that cocky driver to be there at precisely eight o’clock?

      She took another drag on her cigarette as she looked out of the glass double doors of her lobby and saw Malloy’s limo pulling into the circle drive. Quickly ditching the cigarette, she pushed open the lobby doors and strode outside. Malloy leapt from the car, but she was faster, yanking open the rear door herself.

      “You’re late,” she greeted him, slamming her briefcase on the seat beside her as she slid inside.

      “Good morning,” Finn replied, wondering if the woman had replaced her Cheerios with ice cubes or, possibly, ground glass.

      She merely glared in response.

      Finn considered telling her it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d shown up at all, considering he’d had to find a baby-sitter, put out all his domestic fires, and then turn an hour drive through traffic to her condo into thirty-five minutes. And all of that had been accomplished on almost no sleep. But, he suspected she wouldn’t care. It was his job, after all, and his messy personal predicaments were none of her concern.

      He pulled out of the driveway. “We’ll get there in plenty of time,” he assured her.

      She grunted in reply and opened her briefcase.

      Finn grasped the thermos in the seat beside him, then lifted it so that she could see. “Coffee?”

      He could see she looked tempted.

      “There are cups in the bar—creamer and sugar, too. Normally, the coffee’s back there, along with donuts and bagels, but I had a pretty full morning trying to line up a sitter. We can swing by Shipley’s Donuts or the bagel place—”

      “Coffee’s fine,” she cut him off, taking the thermos. “In the future, don’t stock