The Boss's Marriage Plan

“I’d love to, but I can’t stay,” Jenny said with a glance at her watch. “Gavin has the night off and we’re having a date night. We might even see a movie. In a theater. With popcorn and everything.”

Knowing how rare a free evening was for them, Tess smiled. “Good for you. Stevie?”

“Sorry. I’m out, too. I promised Joe I’d drive him and his band mates to the airport this evening. They’re catching a late flight to Austin for a gig there.”

Tess and Jenny exchanged quick glances. Stevie spent a lot of time as an unpaid assistant for her boyfriend’s alternative rock band, Eleven Twenty-Five. As busy as she was with her own kitchen design business, she still spent hours making calls for the band, dealing with printers and club owners, hauling supplies in her SUV, making flight arrangements. Tess wasn’t entirely sure what Stevie received in return. But because it was none of her business and Stevie hadn’t asked for advice, she kept her mouth shut. “Another time, then.”

“Soon,” Stevie promised. She jumped to her feet, tossed back her curls and carried her teacup toward the kitchen, looking suddenly restless. “I’d better get going. I promised Cole I’d feed his cat while he’s out of town.”

Cole McKellar was Stevie’s next-door neighbor, a quiet widower who sometimes helped Stevie with home maintenance in exchange for occasional cat-sitting. Tess hadn’t met him, but Stevie always spoke fondly of him. It was part of Stevie’s charm, as well as her weakness, that she liked almost everyone, and she had a near compulsive desire to take care of her friends. She stopped to give Tess a quick hug on her way out. “Seriously, call if you want to talk more. I’m always available as a sounding board.”

“Same here,” Jenny seconded as she prepared to follow Stevie out. “We’re here for you, pal.”

Smiling broadly, Tess locked the door behind them. Her smile faded as it occurred to her that an entire Sunday evening of solitude stretched in front of her now that her friends had rushed off to be with their significant others. Maybe she’d do a little Christmas decorating of her own place.

Not much was going on this last day of the long holiday weekend. Her sister had invited her for dinner, but she’d begged off, having endured enough nagging this week. Usually Tess enjoyed an evening to herself with nothing to do but lose herself in a good book or catch up on TV shows she’d recorded. Tonight she felt too antsy to relax, too aware of the silence in her condo. There were too few distractions from her convoluted thoughts, and she was no closer to a decision now than she’d been before her friends had arrived.

As she retrieved her small artificial Christmas tree from the storage room attached to her condo’s little balcony, she had to face the fact that neither Jenny nor Stevie could really help her with her personal problem. Sure, they could offer suggestions, advice—even differing opinions, as it turned out. Yet she was the one who was going to have to decide whether to take Scott up on his offer to explore new possibilities in their relationship or remain on the same safe, comfortable path they’d walked for the past six-plus years.

She’d never been a risk taker. The dutiful, responsible younger daughter—she’d always been so cautious, so careful. How could she possibly foresee all the potential pitfalls this time, when it affected every aspect of her future—her social life, her career...and maybe even her so-far-unbroken heart?

* * *

After the long weekend, the Monday workday hit the floor running. Phones were already ringing when Tess walked into the office, and the buzzing, beeping and bustling continued for hours. Before two o’clock she’d dealt with one panicky client, two surly vendors, three frantic contractors and a clerical job applicant who could barely articulate around the wad of gum in her mouth. Mentally marking that name off the list of potential employees, she sat back and drew a long breath. It felt almost like the first chance she’d had to breathe since she’d arrived almost six hours earlier.

At least she hadn’t had to worry about what to say to Scott. He’d been in meetings and phone conferences all day, and she’d seen him only for a brief consultation about a business issue. There’d been no time for personal conversation, nor even for awkward pauses. Today had been all about work, catching up and looking ahead. As she’d assured her friends, compartmentalizing wasn’t really that difficult for her and Scott. When they were in the office, nothing was more important to them than taking care of business.

As if in response to her thoughts, he stuck his head in the open doorway to her office. “What’s Art Connolly’s wife’s name?”

“Debbie. And their son is Art Jr., but they call him Buzz.”

“Debbie. Buzz. Got it. Heading out for the meeting. Shoot me a text if you need anything.”

“Okay. Have a good—” But he was gone before she could finish the sentiment.

Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. If nothing else had demonstrated how efficiently Scott could put their Saturday-evening conversation out of his mind, that little exchange would have done the trick. There had been nothing at all personal in his tone or expression, no meeting of eyes, no more warmth in his voice than she heard when he spoke with the receptionist on his way out. She couldn’t imagine any observer would even suspect that less than forty-eight hours earlier, Scott had all but asked her outright to consider having his children.

Had their conversation even crossed his mind this morning? Despite how busy she’d been, it had hovered constantly at the back of hers. Did that mean they were already unevenly invested in this looming decision? Was it really of little import to him if she accepted his offer or politely declined? Was he less concerned about the repercussions—maybe because he didn’t believe he would be as deeply affected in the long run? Had he changed his mind, had later misgivings about his impulsive suggestions, or was he really too wrapped up in business today to give anything else a second thought?

“Um, Tess?”

Blinking, she glanced toward the doorway to find a heavily pregnant young woman standing there studying her with a slight frown. She got the distinct impression it wasn’t the first time her name had been spoken. “I’m sorry, Heather, I was distracted. What can I do for you?”

“The next applicant for my job is here for her interview. And I wanted to remind you I’m leaving a little early today for a doctor’s appointment.”