The Baby Project

“The reality is that he’d be far better off with one than with two people who’d be sparring constantly the way you and I do! And besides, shared custody would be so unsettling for Matthew it would make his little head spin. He’d have to move back and forth between us, never knowing a real home.”

“Of course he’d know a real home!” Jordan’s voice was rough with impatience. “If we were to share custody, you’d stay on in this house.”

Totally taken aback, she stared at him. After several beats, she said, “And you? Where would you fit in?”

“I’d continue with my work abroad but we’d share responsibility for the baby, make joint decisions regarding his welfare. And I’d visit when I could.”

She chewed her lip. “You’d consider this your…home?”

“Uh-uh. Home is where I hang my hat.” His grin was self-mocking. “And I never wear a hat.”

Looking at him warily, Mallory said, “You’d be happy to leave Matthew with me?”

“I don’t recall using the word happy. Let’s just say, you’d be right for the job. And he likes you.”

“But you don’t.”

“It wouldn’t be necessary for me to like you, Mallory. Or for you to like me.” His gaze narrowed as he searched her face for an answer. “You’d consider it? I myself see shared custody as the best option.”

“I’d prefer to have sole custody,” she said stubbornly.

“Even without this house?”

“I could manage.”

“As you yourself just said, if you didn’t have this house, all you’d be able to afford would be some dingy basement apartment. But if you were determined to seek sole custody, we’d end up in court…and I’d win hands down.”

“Oh, not necessarily,” she shot back. “Just because you’ve got pots of money—”

“Pots of money can buy the best lawyers in the country. You wouldn’t have a hope in hell of beating me.” His smile was faintly malicious. “It’s my turn, sweetheart. You won hands down when it came to the wedding; I’ll beat you hands down when it comes to the baby. Seems only fair.”

“You don’t care about Matthew, do you! All you care about is winning!”

“But I think you’ll agree with me, when you simmer down, that shared custody is the best option.”

She drew in a very deep breath. “I agree,” she said reluctantly, “that it’s worth considering.”

“Good. Because even though I know I’d win a custody battle, I’d prefer not to go that route. It wouldn’t be in Matthew’s best interests; he’d be better off with both of us looking after his welfare. Furthermore, as I said, he’s used to you, and for his sake it would be better to hire you than hire a stranger to look after him.”

“Hire me?” She gaped at him. “Hire me?”

“Weren’t you paying attention? I said, you’d be right for the job, and ‘job’ is what I meant. You stay in the house, rent-free, and I pay you—well, whatever good nannies get paid.” He pushed himself off the table and towered over her. “Take it or leave it, Mallory. That’s the deal.”

She sprang to her feet and glared up at him. “And what happens if you decide to get married? You’d have me out on the street in two seconds flat.”

His grin was lazy. “Not a problem, sweetheart. I don’t plan on marrying. Ever.”

“That’s what you say now. But how do I know that somewhere down the road you won’t meet somebody, fall in love, and all of a sudden there’s a new bride at Number Five Seaside Lane. Somebody who loves children and doesn’t want me around! No.” She squared her shoulders rigidly. “I won’t do it. I won’t risk it.”

“I’d be taking that chance too, Mallory. You don’t have the resources at present to fight me in court…but what if you were to meet some millionaire and get married?”

“I have no plans,” she said coldly, “to marry. Millionaire or no millionaire.”

“That’s what you say now.” In a flat tone, he echoed her own words. “And I’m not prepared to risk it either.”

As they stared at each other, Mallory felt a sinking sensation. “It seems,” she said defeatedly, “that we’ve reached an impasse. I don’t trust you, and you don’t trust me.”

“Then we’ll just have to sign a contract. Make it legal. I don’t marry; you don’t marry.”

“I don’t think that would stand up in any court.”

He sighed. “Probably not. Look.” He rubbed the heel of one hand over his beard, making a rasping sound. “We can make this work. Trust me. I promise you, I’m not going to marry. I don’t want a wife. I don’t want to be tied down.”

“I’d like to believe you, but people change—”

“For God’s sake, Mallory, what do I have to do to convince you?”

She drew in a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what you could do to convince me. But I could never agree to shared custody unless I have absolute faith that any agreement between us would be absolutely rock solid and permanent. I need that security. Because of Matthew. I love him too much to take any chances.”

Jordan walked away from her, back to the edge of the deck, and looked out over the garden again.

The robin had returned. It ran about the lawn, halting every few seconds to cock its head and look around with its sharp inquisitive eyes. Mallory watched it, her own gaze slightly blurred, her heart filled with despair. She and Jordan had, indeed, reached an impasse.

And she could see no way out.

She was standing there dismally, when she heard the phone ring inside.

She made her way to the kitchen and picked up the handset from the wall phone.

“Hello,” she said. “Mallory Madison speaking.”

“This is Celia, Ms. Madison, at Burton Barton Realty. May I speak to Mr. Caine?”

“Mr. Caine’s outside. Could you hold on a minute, please, and—”

“I’m here.”

Mallory turned and saw Jordan coming into the kitchen. She held out the phone. “It’s Burton Barton Realty.”

He nodded, and murmured “Thanks’ as he took the phone. Then he said, “Jordan Caine here. Oh, hi, Celia…”

He listened for a few moments, before saying, “Two o’clock it is.” Replacing the receiver, he announced, “Burton has a client coming to see the place at two.”

Mallory leaned back against the countertop, glad of its support as her legs had become weak. “Word travels fast.”

“It’s a prime property, in a prime location.”

“I guess.”