A Baby for Mummy

Tex clearly differed. “Do you really want to discuss business out on the sidewalk?” Tex asked.

A group of teens walked by, talking and laughing.

Emily’s frown deepened. She looked at Dan, a question in her eyes. Getting the hint—she wanted and needed a neutral third party to possibly run interference for her—Dan wordlessly agreed to help her out. He stipulated mildly, “As long as it doesn’t take too long. Emily and I have plans for this evening.” Just not together.

Incorrectly assuming Dan was Emily’s date and he was interrupting something, Tex shrugged. “I’m fine with that. I just want a chance to explain and make my pitch.”

The three of them walked inside and took the elevator to Emily’s loft. The high-ceilinged, brick-walled abode had a bank of windows overlooking the Trinity River. The thousand-square-foot apartment was divided into four areas—work space, living room, kitchen and bedroom. The only space walled off was the bathroom at one end.

She led them to the stylish sofa and a pair of chairs at one end of the room. She sat down on the sofa. Dan sat next to her.

Tex took one of the sling-back chairs opposite them. “I’m here to offer you a job,” Tex said.

Emily looked as if she could hardly believe Tex’s temerity. Nor could Dan, under the circumstances.

Emily stared at Tex. “You really think I’d accept a job from you after what you just pulled?”

Tex nodded. His expression earnest, he continued in a flat, practical tone, “We both know the only reason you wanted the orchard was to bring it back to its former glory. You don’t have the money or the agricultural background to make the sort of improvements required. But I do. And since my parents are retiring to Arizona and have recently sold their orchard to me, and the properties are side-by-side, it makes good business sense to merge the two and have one operation with twice the capacity, rather than two competing businesses.”

As much as Dan was loath to admit it, Tex’s pitch made sense, from a business perspective, anyway. Personally, it was another matter indeed.

Emily frowned, looking tempted despite her earlier refusal. “What are you offering me exactly?”

“A full partnership if you’ll agree to defer most of your salary in exchange for equity, just as I am, until we get the new business up and running. Bottom line—I’m only going to be around part of the time. I need someone I trust to live on the property and run the orchards when I’m not there, and start an on-property restaurant-slash-retail-business that will feature fresh fruit, preserves, pastries, salsas and whatever else you can dream up to produce with our crops.”

“Why me, Tex? Why not someone else?”

“Because you’re the only one who knows how much blood, sweat and tears went into starting these orchards. Together, you and I can make them better than either of our folks ever dreamed. So what do you say, Emily?” Tex leaned forward urgently, hat in hand. “Can I count on you? Are you in?”

“THANKS FOR STAYING,” Emily told Dan several minutes later, after Tex had left.

Dan looked around her loft. The sleek, minimalist space didn’t seem to jibe with her any more than Tex Ostrander did. She seemed much more at home in his traditionally cozy kitchen.

“No problem,” Dan said. He had wanted to make certain she was all right. He watched as she walked to the stain-less-steel island that served as both work surface and dinner table. She plucked an orange from the fruit bowl and began to peel it with single-minded concentration.

“Are you going to accept Tex’s offer?” Dan asked.

“I don’t know.” She offered Dan half the orange. “On the one hand, I’m really ticked off about the way he subverted my dream.”

“But not surprised,” Dan guessed as he popped a section of orange in his mouth.

Emily made a face. “He’s always been ambitious to a fault. It was never going to be enough for him to help run his parents’ orchard until they decided to retire.”

Curious, Dan asked, “Is that why you two never married?”

Emily downed one orange section, then another. “We got together when my mom died and I needed someone to be there for me. He stepped in and provided the stability and direction I needed at a time when just trying to decide whether or not to continue subscribing to the daily newspaper was a quandary.” She met his gaze. “When my grief ebbed and I no longer needed someone to solve all of life’s problems for me, I realized something else that had eluded me. He was always going to put his own needs first and think that his dreams were more important than mine. And that hurt.” Her eyes narrowed. “And he’s obviously still behaving in that manner—for example, thinking he’s doing me a favor by buying the orchard out from under me, because he can run it better than I can.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

She looked in the fridge. It was crammed with all manner of fresh fruit and vegetables. She moved the milk and cheese and withdrew a jar of dill pickles. Dan shook his head at her offer.

She withdrew a pickle for herself and recapped the jar. “Bottom line—I still want a hand in restoring the property where I grew up.” She took a bite of the pickle, catching the dripping juice with one hand cupped beneath the other. Appearing as if the sour taste were heaven—and who knew, maybe it was to a pregnant woman—she continued, “And the thought of having the money to start a restaurant and a line of peach, strawberry, blackberry and plum products with my family’s name on it is tempting.”

Dan studied the glitter of excitement in her eyes. “Even if it means working closely with your ex?”

Emily turned on the spigot and washed her hands with lavender soap. Some of her pleasure faded. “I think I can handle Tex.”

Dan ignored the stab of unaccustomed jealousy and pointed out, “You didn’t seem that sure earlier.” He watched as she dried her hands with a towel, determined to let her have her say. “When you were pretending I was someone of significance in your life.”

Emily flushed, as if guilty as charged. She helped herself to a wrapped candy on the counter, then pivoted toward him. The tantalizing drift of orange-blossom perfume teased his senses. “First of all,” she corrected archly, “I never actually said that.”