A Bachelor, A Boss And A Baby. Rachel Lee

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      Blaine walked down the hall, his thumbs hooked on his jeans pockets. This was indeed not a good start. The eejits had hired this woman while he was away and could offer no input, and now they were going to have a turf war over her?

      He had to give her marks for taking the tot right into it with her. Apparently, Diane Finch like to have the air as clear as possible. Well, so did he.

      But not the damn fools they were about to meet. Oh, no. The muddier the better for them.

      Then he brushed aside the thoughts as unproductive. He’d managed to work with these people for over five years now, and going all crackers on them in defense of Diane wasn’t going to help anyone. He still had a culvert to take care of, and he and the roads department would be getting the blame if the commissioners stalled it.

      As for Diane, she probably wanted to keep this job for a while. To withstand the inevitable storms that were coming, she needed to be firm and able to stand for herself. The politicians weren’t all bad, after all. But they all had their moments.

      Like any other human, he decided humorously. Show him a perfect person and he’d be sure he was looking at the Blessed Mother herself. Anyway, if it became necessary, he knew a few ways to step in to make them back off her.

      Inside the chamber on the second floor of the courthouse, just beneath the courtrooms and judges’ chambers on the third floor, only one commissioner had arrived. Madge Corker, a graying woman of near sixty, sat in her usual chair and eyed him with a smile.

      “So we have a baby with us now, Blaine?”

      “If ya won’t mind, I’ll be letting the planner explain it herself.”

      “Don’t go Irish on me,” she said lightly. “Usually I like to listen to that accent, but when you carry it too far, I have trouble understanding. I think we need to understand today.”

      “No doubt,” he answered, plopping himself in a seat in the front row. “I’ve a culvert I need to talk about. I was planning that for tonight.”

      A sound of amusement escaped Madge. “You were always good at diversion.”

      “No diversion except around that culvert. Detours.”

      Another sound of amusement escaped her, then two men entered, wearing pressed Western shirts and jeans. The local dress-up. If you took an iron to it, you didn’t need the three-piece and tie.

      Neither of them looked remotely amused. Of course not. Men had a thing about babies at work. Women in the clerk’s office were still trying to get a private closet for nursing.

      Jeff Holdrum, the first to enter, was a portly man, just portly enough to look well-to-do and to sport a small spot of egg yolk on the front of his shirt. Minor Allcoke was a weedy man who looked as if he’d been starving all his life. Except Blaine had more than once watched him eat as if he were a three-hundred-pound rugby player.

      As the two new arrivals took their place at the council table on its dais, Blaine felt some apprehension.

      “This is all looking rather official,” he said. “Where are the others?”

      “That’s tonight. Where’s Ms. Finch? She’s supposed to be here.”

      “I gave her ten minutes.” He glanced at his watch. Then, just to annoy them, he switched to an upper-crust British accent, which he seldom used. “Only seven have passed. To avoid being rude, you understand.”

      For a second, he enjoyed watching them look a bit embarrassed. What was it about speaking the queen’s English in the queen’s accent that seemed to make Americans feel a bit...scolded? He wasn’t sure.

      Jeff Holdrum cleared his throat. “This is just about getting to know her.”

      “Right-o. I thought you already interviewed her.”

      “Some...things have changed.”

      “Hell, life has a way o’ doing that, don’t you know.” Then he folded his arms and waited. He just hoped Diane didn’t begin on her back foot. Weakness didn’t stand up well against these folks. Given Madge was a woman, he hoped she was here to protect Diane, but he’d also seen enough women go after other women to know better than to hope.

      He felt the unmistakable change of room pressure as the door at the back opened. Three sets of eyes left him and looked to the rear. He was tempted not to look at all, but then he changed his mind.

      Diane was walking up the center aisle with the baby carrier all decked out in fresh yellow in one hand, the denim diaper bag over her shoulder and a briefcase in hand. He eyed her with admiration. Not only was she lovely, she’d also been serious about putting all her cards on the table. No mistaking it. Her stride was almost defiant.