The Good Father

Chapter Seven

Max calmly set down his coffee cup as Ellen and Ogden looked on in horror. He stood up, appearing utterly unafraid. “I wasn’t. But I am now. And she’s your ex-wife, in case you’d forgotten.”

Now the diners at neighboring tables were staring.

Jane was frozen with fear, and Kaylee continued to call for her daddy, who didn’t seem to hear.

Scott balled up his fists, his eyes mere slits. “I could ruin you.”

“I wouldn’t try, if I were you. Not unless you want a few of your secrets out in the open. Or would you like for everyone to hear about Laura Ann?”

Laura Ann? Who was that?

Whoever she was, mentioning her name caused Scott’s already short temper to snap. He cocked his arm back.

But Max ducked to the side. At the same time, he thrust his leg out in a lightning-fast kick that buckled Scott’s legs. He toppled over, clutching his knee and cursing up a blue storm.

By then, the security guard from the hotel lobby had been summoned. He apparently had seen who was the aggressor and who was merely defending himself, because he dragged Scott to his feet. “Sir, you’ll have to come with me. Mr. Remington, are you all right?”

“Never better.” He couldn’t quite hide his smile of triumph.

Men.

Scott was too humiliated, or in too much pain, to argue. He limped away with the guard, not even giving Max or her or Kaylee a backward glance. The blonde, not so cool now, scurried after him.

“Well,” Ogden said, pushing to his feet. “That was an interesting display. I take it you and Jane are not, in fact, husband and wife?”

Max deflated slightly. “No. We aren’t even involved. I’m not married and I don’t have any children. But I thought you would prefer to give your advertising account to a family man, so when you assumed Kaylee was mine, I chose not to correct you.”

Ogden’s scowl deepened, but Ellen merely stared, looking bewildered.

“We don’t normally do business with people who lie and brawl in restaurants,” Ogden said succinctly. “Ellen?”

Ellen looked like she wanted to say something, but in the end she followed Ogden out of the restaurant.

“That went well.” Max practically fell back into his chair. He looked stunned, shell-shocked.

Jane said nothing. She had warned Max that when Kidz’n’Stuff found out about the deception, there would be some fallout. But not even she had visualized the truth coming out in such dramatic fashion.

“Mommy, I want to see Daddy,” Kaylee said in a small voice.

“I know, sweetheart. You’ll see him next weekend, and you’ll get to spend two whole days with Grandpa Larry and Grandma Bonnie.”

Max fiddled with his fork. “You still want breakfast? Or did this fiasco ruin your appetite like it did mine?”

“I’m not very hungry,” Jane said. “But we should get something for Kaylee.”

The waiter stopped at their table. “Breakfast is on us, Mr. Remington,” he said. “Would you like to order from the menu, or have the breakfast buffet?”

“How about some waffles for the little one?” Max said.

“Of course. Would she like some juice? We have orange, grapefruit and cranberry.”

“How about it, Kaylee?” Max asked. “You want juice?” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, but she shrieked and hid her face against Jane’s shoulder.

“You hurt my daddy!”

Kaylee’s accusation was like a knife to Max’s heart. Of course she would see Max as the villain. She wasn’t old enough to understand the complexities of the fight she’d just witnessed. But she’d seen the outcome.

No matter what anyone else thought of Scott, he was Kaylee’s father.

“Kaylee, listen to me,” Jane said. “Your daddy lost his temper and tried to hit Max first. Max was only trying not to get hurt himself.”

“You don’t have to stick up for me,” Max said, though he was honored that Jane would do so. “I shouldn’t have hit back.”

“You did exactly the right thing,” Jane insisted. “If you hadn’t taken him down, he’d have come at you again. His temper is completely out of control. For months I told him he needed counseling, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“I can’t exactly blame him for being angry,” Max said. “He thinks I stole you. If you were my wife, and I thought some guy had poached, I might get violent, too.”

Jane blushed, and Max realized he might have been just a bit too passionate in stating his opinion. His feelings for Jane had gone beyond simple lust.

He decided a change of subject was in order. “You know, I think I will have some breakfast. It’s free, after all. Who knows when we’ll be able to set foot in a place like this again?” He certainly wouldn’t be paying for fancy restaurants until the agency brought in some larger accounts. He was grateful for the Mattress Masters of the world, but he needed more.

“Are the finances in bad shape?” Jane asked.

“Not as bad as all that. But don’t expect an extravagant raise any time soon.”

THE PLANNED TOUR of the Kidz’n’Stuff offices and manufacturing facility was obviously off the schedule, but they still had the appointment with the modeling agency.

“Maybe we should cancel that, too,” Jane said, “and just go home.” They stood in front of the hotel, waiting for the valet to bring their car around. “Clearly Ellen isn’t going to want Kaylee in her ads now.”

“I still think you should talk to the agent. Modeling can be incredibly lucrative.”

“Have you been a model?” Jane eyed him up and down, thinking his face and body could sell jeans or motorcycles by the gazillion.

He grinned. “No, but I’ve hired plenty of them. In New York, some of them make hundreds of dollars an hour.”

“Well, sure, the supermodels-”

“No, I’m talking about ordinary no-name models.”

“Really?”

“A lot of people would kill to get an interview with this agency-it’s well-known.”

“All right. I guess I should keep the appointment. Though I can’t imagine Kaylee’s going to make a grand impression with her bandages and her attitude.”

“My what?” Kaylee was always paying attention, alert for the sound of her name.

“Your mood. You’re not in a very good mood this morning.”

“Yes I am.”

“In that case, before we visit the modeling agency, you’ll let me brush your hair and put a ribbon in it.”

She had to think about that one, finally agreeing with a reluctant, “Okay.” Combing the tangles out of her long hair was a constant battle, but whenever Jane suggested getting it cut Kaylee threw a fit.

By the time the three of them entered the elegant office building that housed the Freeman Agency, Kaylee had, in fact, perked up. She looked adorable, with her Kidz’n’Stuff pink overalls, pink ruffled socks and miniature athletic shoes, and a pink ribbon in her hair. She even carried a tiny purple purse, which had been her idea, not Jane’s. Perhaps she understood what was going on here more fully than Jane gave her credit for.

The receptionist greeted them with a haughty, down-her-nose look. She was tall and elegant, with black hair swept back into a twist. She easily could have been a model herself.

“Good morning,” Jane said with confidence she didn’t feel. “Jane Selwyn and Kaylee Simone, here to see Erin Freeman.”

The woman consulted her appointment book. “If you’ll have a seat-”

“Is this Kaylee?” A woman with flaming red hair that went in all directions and a pair of thick, blue-framed glasses had burst into the room. Jane’s first thought was that she belonged on a kids’ TV show.

Jane extended her hand. “This is Kaylee and I’m her mother, Jane.”

“I’m Erin, pleased to meet you.” Her eyes never left Kaylee. “Come on back.”

“I’ll wait here,” Max said.

“No, please, come with us,” Jane said, trying not to sound too desperate. But Max knew so much more about this stuff than she did.

Max shrugged, and they all followed Erin to her enormous corner office, which featured leather furniture and an array of kids’ toys.

Erin focused her attention first on Kaylee, engaging her in conversation. Kaylee was at her friendly, cheerful best, apparently having overcome the trauma of breakfast. After a few minutes, Erin invited Kaylee to play with whatever toys she wanted, and the adult conversation started.

“Let’s take a look at her portfolio.”

“Um, right. She doesn’t have one.”

“No?”

“She’s never done any modeling.”

Erin looked confused. “Oh, but…what’s this?” She had a color printout of the Kidz’n’Stuff comp Jane had drawn.

Jane looked at Max.

“I scanned it into the computer and e-mailed it to Ellen,” Max explained.

“That’s just a mock-up I did for the ad agency where I work,” Jane said with a laugh. “I used a snapshot of Kaylee because I happened to have one on hand.”

Erin studied the ad for almost a minute without talking. Then she looked up, her eyes alight with inspiration. “Are you represented?”

“Me? I’m not a model.”

“As an artist. Although I could probably get you some print work, but if you’ll forgive me, pretty women are a dime a dozen. Artists with your talent, on the other hand, are rare. Do you have an agent?”

“Well…no.”

“I could get you commissions. Portrait work. I might even be able to get you into a gallery. What else do you have?”

“Um…”

“She can have her portfolio to you in a couple of weeks,” Max said.

“Great.”

“But what about Kaylee?” Jane squeaked.

“She needs pictures.” Erin pulled a business card out of her desk drawer and handed it to Jane. “Take her to this photographer and have her headshot done. If I have that, I can get her some work. She definitely has that certain something advertisers go wild for.”

Erin then pulled two more cards out, one for Jane and one for Max. “Mr. Remington, I hope you’ll think of the Freeman Agency for your modeling, photography and artistic needs. We have some amazing talent in our stable. Though obviously you’ve got some of your own right in your backyard. I don’t suppose you’ve done any modeling…”

“No,” Max said, closing that door in a hurry.

Jane’s head was spinning. Photos for Kaylee, an art portfolio for her…

She said nothing until they were in the elevator heading for the parking garage. “Why did you say that? An art portfolio in two weeks, are you insane?”

Max grinned. “I told you you were good. If Erin Freeman thinks you are, too…that’s not something to sneeze at.”

“But I have a job and a child to take care of. I don’t have time to put together a portfolio.”

“You did…what, four drawings in one night? Do a few more, and you have a portfolio. I’ll give you the time off if you need it.”

“But…why?” Didn’t he need her? Oh, Lord, was her job in jeopardy? She always came back to that fear.

“Because you deserve to succeed. Yes, I want to keep you as an employee, but I don’t want to hold you back. If something better comes along, take it. Don’t worry about me.”

That was just about the most unselfish thing anyone had ever said to her. No one had ever told her she deserved anything.

“Thank you, Max. But I like working at the Remington Agency. It’s exciting. I might like to do portraits as a sideline…Oh, I feel so guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“This was supposed to be Kaylee’s chance to shine, and I stole her big moment.”

“You didn’t steal anything. It was handed to you. Anyway, the door is still open for Kaylee.”

“Yeah, if I can come up with the money for pictures. Which really is out of the question right now. I bet this photographer charges a fortune.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“What? Max, no.”

“She deserves-”

“I won’t be in debt to you. One promise I made to myself after the divorce was that I would live within my means, no matter what. Kaylee can wait until I’ve saved the funds to pay a photographer.”

“No strings attached.”

Oh, but there would be strings. She could already feel them pulling on her, drawing her into a closer emotional bond with Max. And that was crazy-for all the reasons she’d gone over and over in her head.

“I appreciate the offer, but no,” she said firmly.

The drive home was quiet. Kaylee napped through most of it, and Jane looked out the window, unable to stop herself from reliving this morning’s breakfast debacle.

Then she remembered something, and she simply had to speak. “Max, who is Laura Ann, and why was mentioning her name such a threat to Scott?”

Max looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure you want to know.”

“Yeah, I do.” She glanced into the backseat. “Kaylee’s fast asleep. You can tell me.”

Max stared straight ahead. “I didn’t take it seriously when Scott said he would ruin me, but when I mentioned it to Cooper, he went into lawyer mode. He did some digging around and came up with a few skeletons in your ex’s closet. Laura Ann is an old flame…”

“Go on.”

“He saw her on and off through your whole marriage.”

“Huh.” Jane couldn’t muster much of a reaction. Perhaps she’d already known, on some level, that Scott hadn’t been faithful.

“I’m sorry.”

She reached across and touched his arm. “No, you did the right thing, and it really doesn’t bother me. I am well and truly over him.”

Max smiled. “Good.”

THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, as Max readied the conference room for a client meeting, he still wondered why he’d offered to pay for Kaylee’s modeling photos.

Jane and Kaylee were in no way his responsibility, and it wasn’t like him to just hand out money because he had a generous heart. Yeah, he used to be the guy who always bought another round of drinks and took clients and girlfriends to the most expensive restaurant in town. But he’d always had an angle.

What possible angle did he have with Jane?

It was a good thing she’d turned down his offer. He didn’t have wads of disposable cash like he used to. He couldn’t just go throwing it around. He needed his liquid assets to keep the agency afloat. Pay salaries. Buy food.

“Mr. Remington, your two o’clock meeting is here,” Carol said over the intercom in her most obsequious voice. He had to hand it to her, she knew how to play it just right. The client was a local bank. It wasn’t an account on the level of Kidz’n’Stuff, but it was decent. And the marketing guy was a stuffed shirt who would appreciate formality.

Max had actually put on a tie for the occasion.

He went to the reception area and greeted the two men and a woman who’d come for the meeting. Both men tried to crush his hand when they shook, and he struggled not to wince.

He couldn’t show weakness.

When they were all assembled in the conference room, he suddenly realized he’d made a tactical error. It was three against one. He was a lone guy, which made him look like small potatoes. He needed a team, like they had.

“Excuse me for just one moment. Let me get my…associate.”

He stepped into Jane’s office, where she sat engrossed in her computer graphics, as usual. Even if he didn’t have work for her to do, she was always experimenting with the program, learning new tricks, poring over the pages of the instruction manual with a highlighter and sticky notes.

“Jane.”

She jumped, as she usually did when he interrupted her work. “What?” She blinked at him owlishly.

“I want you to sit in on my meeting with Coastal Bank.”

“Really?” She stood and looked down at herself. “Do I look okay?”

More than okay. Her tailored slacks skimmed her slim hips and accentuated long legs and a tiny waist, and though there was nothing overtly sexy about her silk blouse, he could see the shape of her breasts clearly.

His mouth watered. “You look great. But grab your jacket.”

“Do I have to say anything?”

“Just nod when I speak and look utterly supportive.”

She smiled. “I can do that.”

Max didn’t waste time on idle getting-to-know-you chit-chat. He sensed this group would want to get right to it. So after a few preliminary comments, he dimmed the lights and started his PowerPoint presentation.

Max had pitched this bank because he thought their ads were stale and old-fashioned. He believed their image needed a face-lift, especially when two national banks with big budgets had opened branch offices in Port Clara in the past year.

He showed them some ideas for new logos, expertly drafted by Jane, and then some ad concepts featuring young, hip-looking people.

“But those people don’t look like our customers,” the marketing manager complained.

“Ah, but they could be your customers.”

“Older people are the ones with money,” the woman pointed out.

“True, but in a few years, younger people will be older, and they’ll have money, too. When they start thinking about retirement funds, or college funds for the kids, wouldn’t it be nice if they were already loyal to Coastal Bank?”

“But that logo,” the older man complained. “It’s just too modern. I wouldn’t trust a bank with a logo that would be more at home on the front of a video store.”

“We’re certainly not married to that idea,” Max said smoothly.

Jane cleared her throat. “So what you’re looking for is a logo that says, ‘We’re safe, we’re secure, we’ve been around a long time,’ but also something that says, ‘We’re progressive, we’re not stodgy or old-fashioned.’”

Max shot her a warning look, but she studiously avoided looking at him.

“Well, yes, young lady, that’s exactly right.”

“What if we took your current logo and modified it slightly. Keep the type, keep the colors, but clean up that ship and make it more abstract. Give everything a 3-D look.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the older man said uncertainly.

Jane whipped out her sketchpad, which she brought with her everywhere. Had she foreseen that the client wouldn’t like Max’s concept?

She flipped to a page that already had the beginnings of her concept. When she and Max had discussed this, he had nixed the idea. She added a few lines to the drawing. He couldn’t believe how quickly the logo took shape. Rough still, but easy to visualize the end result.

The bank’s team studied it. They studied it a long time.

Finally the older man looked up. “I like this. You fix this up and put it in the new ads, and I think we can do business. But…that kid with the beard. I don’t want him in my ad.”

“That’s no problem,” Max said. “You can approve the models before we move forward.”

There were handshakes all around. Max agreed to meet with the team again in a week, and he and Jane walked them to the door.

Once the door to the hallway was closed, Max took a deep breath. He waited until he was sure the bank people were safely on the elevator. Then he turned to a beaming Jane.

“What the hell did you think you were doing back there?”