The Mommy Makeover

“It hasn’t been my experience. Now, Mr. Malloy, I have work to do.”

“Hey, sorry lady.”

Meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror, he had the impression she was silently counting to ten. “My name is Ms. Amhurst. I trust you can remember that.”

“Probably every bit as well as you can remember mine,” he replied pleasantly, his grin taking the sting out of his well-placed barb.

She harrumphed in reply and turned her attention back to her work. And despite a few more tries at conversation on his part, she didn’t respond. It was as though she’d set her hearing to the off position. When he pulled up in front of her condo a short time later, she didn’t comment on the remarkably quick time he’d made, nor anything else for that matter. Instead, she moved those delicious-looking legs of hers inside at warp speed.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be fine outside in the heat. No, I don’t need anything cold to drink—even if I have been waiting hours for you, without so much as a sip of water. Don’t give it another thought.” His words rang in the empty parking lot and he glanced upward at the windows he guessed were hers. Firmly drawn blinds covered the glass—no surprise there. He hadn’t met such an uptight woman in…He doubted he’d ever met such an uptight woman.

Finn was tempted to step back into the car to turn on the air-conditioning but he had a hefty gasoline bill to keep an eye on. He figured she’d be quite a while, even though she said she needed to be at the country club soon. He just hoped she didn’t intend to set another lateness record.

Having parked in the shade, Finn opted for pulling his cap over his eyes as he leaned against the limo’s immaculate fender. Settled in for a lengthy wait, he was startled when he heard the tapping of high heels only fifteen minutes later, followed by her voice, already barking orders.

“Let’s get moving, Malloy,” she ordered, grinding out a cigarette beneath one shoe.

Apparently if she dropped the “Mister” she could remember his name, he thought wryly. “Yes, ma’am.”

He offered a mock salute, before turning to open the rear door. But then he took a look at her—a really good look. She’d swept all of that marvelous hair up, revealing a long, shapely neck. A diamond necklace winked from between ample cleavage and a thigh-high slit in her long form-hugging gown flashed those incredible legs. He guessed she dressed to impress and intimidate. Nose in the air or not, she was one hot package.

Until he looked into her eyes. No longer seeming to be gray, they were the same rich blue as her gown—and as frosty as the rest of her glacial expression.

Finn stared at her curiously. “Do you have on different colored contacts?”

She glared at him. “I don’t wear contacts.”

“Then your eyes really do change color?”

“Yes. Not that it’s any of your concern. You’re paid to drive, Malloy, not ogle.”

“Sorry about that, Ms. Amhurst. You’re not like most of the clients I drive,” he replied, stifling his instinctive response.

“Perhaps I’ll request a more experienced driver next time,” she told him as she slid inside. “One who’s accustomed to all types of clients.”

Neat trick if you can manage it, he thought, wondering what she’d think if she knew he was Malloy Enterprises’s solitary employee. He was owner, operator, driver, dispatcher, accountant and salesman. Which reminded him that he needed this contract—more than he needed to antagonize Ms. Amhurst. “I’m in the process of getting that experience, ma’am. I appreciate your patience.”

She harrumphed before settling back in the seat.

With uncharacteristic silence he headed toward the country club. He could almost hear her unspoken surprise. It was nearly as much fun keeping her in suspense as actually needling her. She could believe he was bowing to her wishes, and at the same time he wouldn’t be antagonizing the hand that fed him.

Within minutes, they pulled up to the gatehouse of the prestigious River Oaks Country Club where entry was permitted only to a select few. But his passenger’s impeccable credentials shot them past the guard in moments.

Finn stopped in front of the massive entryway and opened the passenger door. Despite her standoffish manner, he couldn’t help admiring Katelyn’s elegant appearance. Silhouetted against the soft-pink aged brick, she looked as though the ornate building had been designed strictly as a backdrop for her. Then she broke the spell.

“Be here precisely at twelve.”

“Or my limo will turn into a pumpkin?” he responded with a charming smile intended to break the ice.

She gave him a long-suffering look. “Don’t be late, Malloy.”

He tipped his hat and then saluted. “No, ma’am.”

She turned, obviously dismissing him and he watched her walk inside, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips, the occasional flash of long legs.

“Knock ’em dead, Cinderella,” he muttered. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had time to go home and try to get a grip on things. With several hours of paid time to do as he pleased, perhaps driving the ice princess wouldn’t be so bad after all.

KATELYN FELT the dull, throbbing beginnings of a headache. Resisting the urge to rub her temples until she was safely out of sight, she smiled heartily at the executives from the Franklin Group as they left the dining room.

While the dinner hadn’t run overly long, it had been an excruciating four hours. The subtle balance between business and flirtation made her feel like she’d walked a tightrope all night. She knew it was part of being a woman in a male dominated executive world, still she wished she could simply concentrate on business and restrict the annoying male/female thing to her personal life. Katelyn grimaced at her last thought. As though she had time for a personal life.

She escaped to the smoking room and enjoyed one leisurely cigarette, waiting until she was certain the men from the Franklin Group were gone.

Katelyn sighed. Time to find her irksome new driver. Why couldn’t he just be one of the many bland, quiet little men who’d usually been her drivers? No chatter, no double entendres to deal with. He’d learn, like previous ones, that she took no guff. He’d either straighten up or lose the firm’s contract. With that thought in mind, she stalked toward the limo. Luckily for him, he was there on time, early in fact since it was only eleven-forty-five. And, he was at attention. Perhaps he just made a bad first impression or had been gripped with nervous chatter.

“Malloy,” she greeted him, knowing she wasn’t ever likely to forget his name again. It should have been easy to remember. He wore his Irish heritage like an ID badge. Wavy, black hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and a tall, muscular physique. And if she was in the mood to notice, a rugged, handsome face as well. But she wasn’t in the mood. Had she thought he could have been nervous? No, that wasn’t his problem. He didn’t lack an iota in the confidence department.

“Ma’am,” he replied, without as much of his earlier cockiness.

Good, perhaps he’s learning, she thought as he opened the passenger door.

Katelyn slid inside, leaning her head back against the seat, grateful the long evening was nearly over. As Finn opened his door, she straightened up, not willing to have anyone witness her fatigue. It was a sign of weakness, something she couldn’t tolerate.

As her head became level, she met three curious pairs of eyes. Since their heads barely reached the top of the seat, she could only assume they were very small children.

“Malloy?”

“Uh, these are my kids.” He tapped the first one’s head. “This is Jenny—she’s five. And the matching monsters are the twins—Erin and Eric. They’re three.”

Katelyn’s eyes moved between him and the children. “But what are they doing here?”

“Ah. Another baby-sitter quit. Since it was the middle of the night, I couldn’t get another one on such short notice.”

Katelyn refused to disguise her impatience or distaste. “Your personal problems are not my concern. I expect you to remedy the situation immediately.” She snapped out the order with all the compassion of a drill sergeant.

“What do you suggest? That I toss them out on the sidewalk until I’ve driven you home?”

Three woeful faces stared at her and she resisted the urge to squirm. “Of course not. But you have until tomorrow to take care of—” she glanced at the children “—it. If not, expect your firm to lose our contract. There are plenty of chauffeuring firms. I don’t need…” She looked again at the winsome trio. “Complications. You read me?”

“Like the Marine handbook.”

While she wondered at his odd reply, he buckled the kids into seat belts. From her vantage point they literally disappeared from sight. Relief filled her along with a nostalgic tugging that had attacked her more often than she wanted to admit. Her friend, Stefanie, insisted that it was her biological clock.

But Katelyn refused to believe her. Even though in the few still, quiet moments she allowed herself, Katelyn wondered at her decision to forego marriage and children. Wondered what it would be like to have a little moppet of her own.

Then she would remember her mother—how she’d never had time for her. Career-driven, she had left Katelyn’s upbringing to nannies and housekeepers. It wasn’t a fate she was willing to inflict on another generation. So, she pushed aside the urges, ignored the ticking of her biological clock and concentrated on the satisfaction her career gave her. She knew she wasn’t cut out to be one of the stay-at-home mommies, content to drive a minivan, spend her days wiping running noses, and exist in her husband’s shadow. No, she was too smart for that.

One of the children started to whine at that moment and Katelyn was immediately grateful for her own generous share of common sense.