Debbie Macomber - Rainy Day Kisses

“Why?”

She frowned at him. It was futile to expect someone like Nate to understand something as important as a sales presentation. Nate didn’t seem to have a job; he didn’t worry about a career. For that matter, he couldn’t possibly grasp that a woman holding a management position had to strive twice as hard to prove herself.

“I’m not trying to be cute, Susannah,” he said with infuriating calm. “I honestly want to know why that meeting is so important.”

“Because it is. I don’t expect you to appreciate this, so just accept the fact that I have to be there.”

Nate cocked his head and idly rubbed the side of his jaw. “First, answer me something. Five years from now, will this meeting make a difference in your life?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. She’d had less than three hours’ sleep, and Nate was asking impossible questions. Michelle, bless her devilish little heart, had fallen asleep in her high chair. Why shouldn’t she? Susannah reasoned. She’d spent the entire night fussing, and was exhausted now. By the time Susannah had discovered the new tooth, she felt as if she’d grown it herself.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t sweat it,” Nate said with that same nonchalant attitude. “If you aren’t there to hear their presentation, your marketing group will give it Tuesday morning.”

“In other words,” she muttered, “you’re saying I don’t have a thing to worry about.”

“Exactly.”

Nate Townsend knew next to nothing about surviving in the corporate world, and he’d obviously been protected from life’s harsher realities. It was all too obvious to Susannah that he was a man with a baseball-cap mentality. He couldn’t be expected to fully comprehend her dilemma.

“So,” he said now, “what are you going to do?”

Susannah wasn’t sure. Briefly, she closed her eyes in an effort to concentrate. Impose discipline, she said to herself. Stay calm. That was crucial. Think slowly and analyze your objectives. For every problem there was a solution.

“Susannah?”

She glanced at him; she’d almost forgotten he was there. “I’ll cancel my early-morning appointments and go in for the presentation,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“What about Michelle? Are you going to hire a sitter?”

A babysitter hired by the babysitter. A novel thought, perhaps even viable, but Susannah didn’t know anyone who sat with babies.

Then she made her decision. She would take Michelle to work with her.

And that was exactly what she did.

* * *

As she knew it would, Susannah’s arrival at H&J Lima caused quite a stir. At precisely ten the following morning, she stepped off the elevator. Her black leather briefcase was clutched in one hand and Michelle was pressed against her hip with the other. Head held high, Susannah marched across the hardwood floor, past the long rows of doorless cubicles and shelves of foot-thick file binders. Several employees moved away from their desks to view her progress. A low rumble of hushed whispers followed her.

“Good morning, Ms. Brooks,” Susannah said crisply as she walked into her office, the diaper bag draped over her shoulder like an ammunition pouch.

“Ms. Simmons.”

Susannah noted that her assistant—to her credit—didn’t so much as bat an eye. The woman was well trained; to all outward appearances, Susannah regularly arrived at the office with a nine-month-old infant attached to her hip.

Depositing the diaper bag on the floor, Susannah took her place behind a six-foot-wide walnut desk. Content for the moment, Michelle sat on her lap, gleefully viewing her aunt’s domain.

“Would you like some coffee?” Ms. Brooks asked.

“Yes, please.”

Her assistant paused. “Will your, ah…”

“This is my niece, Michelle, Ms. Brooks.”

The woman nodded. “Will Michelle require anything to drink?”

“No, but thanks anyway. Is there anything urgent in the mail?”

“Nothing that can’t wait. I canceled your eight and nine o’clock appointments,” her assistant went on to explain. “When I spoke to Mr. Adams, he asked if you could join him for drinks tomorrow night at six.”

“That’ll be fine.” The old lecher would love to do all their business outside the office. On this occasion, she’d agree to his terms, since she’d been the one to cancel their appointment, but she wouldn’t be so willing a second time. She’d never much cared for Andrew Adams, who was overweight, balding and a general nuisance.

“Will you be needing me for anything else?” Ms. Brooks asked when she delivered the coffee.

“Nothing. Thank you.”

As she should have predicted, the meeting was an unmitigated disaster. The presentation took twenty-two minutes, and in that brief time Michelle managed to dismantle Susannah’s Cross pen, unfasten her blouse and pull her hair free from her carefully styled French twist. The baby clapped her hands at various inappropriate points and made loud noises. At the low point of the meeting, Susannah had been forced to leave her seat and dive under the conference table to retrieve her niece, who was cheerfully crawling over everyone’s feet.

By the time she got home, Susannah felt like climbing back into bed and staying there. It was the type of day that made her crave something chocolate and excessively sweet. But there weren’t enough chocolate chip cookies in the world to see her through another morning like that one.

To Susannah’s surprise, Nate met her in the foyer outside the elevator. She took one look at him and resisted the urge to burst into tears.

“I take it things didn’t go well.”

“How’d you guess?” she asked sarcastically.

“It might be the fact you’re wearing your hair down when I specifically remember you left wearing it up. Or it could be that your blouse is buttoned wrong and there’s a gaping hole in the middle.” His smile was mischievous. “I wondered if you were the type to wear a lacy bra. Now I know.”

Susannah groaned and slapped a hand over her front. He could have spared her that comment.

“Here, kiddo,” he said, taking Michelle out of Susannah’s arms. “It looks like we need to give your poor aunt a break.”

Turning her back, Susannah refastened her blouse and then brought out her key. Her once orderly, immaculate apartment looked as if a cyclone had gone through it. Blankets and baby toys were scattered from one end of the living room to the other. She’d slept on the couch in order to be close to Michelle, and her pillow and blankets were still there, along with her blue suit jacket, which she’d been forced to change when Michelle had tossed a spoonful of plums on the sleeve.

“What happened here?” Nate asked, looking in astonishment at the scene before him.

“Three days and three nights with Michelle and you need to ask?”

“Sit down,” he said gently. “I’ll get you a cup of coffee.” Susannah did as he suggested, too grateful to argue with him.

Nate stopped just inside the kitchen. “What’s this purple stuff all over the walls?”

“Plums,” Susannah informed him. “I discovered the hard way that Michelle hates plums.”

The scene in the kitchen was a good example of how her morning had gone. It had taken Susannah the better part of three hours to get herself and Michelle ready for the excursion to the office. And that was just the beginning.

“What I need is a double martini,” she told Nate when he carried in two cups of coffee.

“It’s not even noon.”

“I know,” she said, slowly lowering herself to the sofa. “Can you imagine what I’d need if it was two o’clock?”

Chuckling, Nate handed her the steaming cup. Michelle was sitting on the carpet, content to play with the very toys she’d vehemently rejected that morning.