The Christmas Secret

Sam’s heart felt as flat as a pancake, as though the life was being squeezed out of it. She had never been entertained with tea parties, not even as a very young child. Even back then her mother hadn’t been well and although her father had dutifully provided the basics, there’d been no fun, no games, no laughter. But this woman, the nanny, had moved in here and created a personal space that both fit with the rest of the house and was yet set apart from it, and its welcome hominess gave Sam a good feeling about her.

“This room is perfect,” Kristi said. “Even the wallpaper works in here. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Neither would Sam.

“Excellent.” Claire made a note of that. “That leaves the nursery, which is right here across the hall. Should we take a look?”

Sam nodded a silent affirmative, and cast one last look at the nanny’s room before reluctantly following her partners to the room across the hall. Earlier when they’d been in the kitchen, she had deliberately avoided looking outside because she was emotionally unprepared to see AJ’s son. And now she wasn’t ready for this.

The nursery, the only room in the house with a bright modern flair, had been painted a fresh shade of pale green. The child-size trundle bed was covered with a cozy patchwork quilt and heaped with stuffed animals. The green-and-yellow polka-dot upholstery on the armchair and ottoman coordinated with the multitoned green-and-yellow-striped drapes on the window next to them. Had AJ chosen these colors, this furniture? Did he sit here with his son? She didn’t know why, but she found it impossible to picture him as a father. Or had his wife decorated the room before she left? Did she still visit? Did the child live with her part of the time?

“Sam?” Claire’s gentle tone eased her out of her daze. “I was saying the bedrooms shouldn’t take long, since the nanny’s room and nursery are fine as they are.”

“Sorry, and yes, you’re right. The other two bedrooms won’t take long. I guess we should start with the grandmother’s since no one’s living in it. I’ll have to move the furniture away from the walls to get at the wallpaper.”

“You’ll need help with that,” Claire said. “I’ll get Marlie to call the movers as soon as I get back to the office this afternoon and find out when they’re available. We’ll have them do the room when they rearrange things downstairs.”

Kristi stowed her camera in her shoulder bag. “I’m going home to download the photographs I took today and spend the afternoon working on a color scheme. I want to be home when Jenna gets out of school because yesterday my sweet darling daughter had a boy there when I got home.”

“Ah, the teenage years,” Claire said with a grin. “I remember them well. Except I didn’t have a boyfriend,” she added quickly.

Neither did Sam. She’d never invited a friend home, either, and wouldn’t have dreamed of bringing home a boy she was interested in. He would have made a run for it.

“I remember those years, too.” Kristi sighed. “I also remember what teenage boys are like. Hormones permanently in overdrive. That’s kind of how I got to be a mom so young.”

“You were eighteen when your daughter was born,” Sam said because she felt she should say something reassuring. “Jenna’s only thirteen.”

Kristi rolled her eyes. “Thirteen going on twenty-something.”

“And the boy?” Claire asked.

“She says he’s fifteen, which, knowing my daughter, means he’s probably closer to sixteen.”

Claire put an arm around Kristi. “Young girls always date up. Besides, Jenna’s a good kid with a good head on her shoulders. I’d give a lot to have one just like her.”

From the time the three of them had become business partners, Claire had talked about how desperately she wanted children. Now that her marriage was on the rocks, the likelihood of that was slimmer than ever. Sam didn’t allow herself to think about a family, or the future. It was too hard. Hell, just seeing another little boy’s bedroom had sent her mind racing back into the past.

What if …?

If only …

Don’t go there!

“Do you have plans for the rest of the day, Sam?”

She gave herself another mental shake. “Ah, yes. Stop at the drugstore to pick up my mother’s medication. Grab a few groceries.” Precious few after she paid for the prescription.

“How is she?” Kristi asked. “Any better?”

Sam wished she hadn’t said anything. Although Claire and Kristi had never met her mother, she had reluctantly told them about her. There were days when Sam couldn’t leave her alone, and her business partners needed to know why.

She shrugged. “A little better, I think.” She hoped, but she didn’t want to talk about her mother. “After dinner I’ll go over my notes and come up with a timeline for getting all this work done. I’ll email it to both of you and we can go over it at our meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Excellent,” Claire said. “I’ll do two appraisals—one for the house as it is now and another that will include all the proposed updates. We can present the package to … the client.” She eyed Sam over the top rim of her dark-framed glasses. “Then we’ll take it from there.”

The three of them trooped down the back stairs to the kitchen, Sam last and desperately hoping to avoid another encounter with “the client.” In the kitchen they were greeted by an aproned silver-haired woman, who stood at the stove stirring a large pot. The savory-scented steam rising from it reminded Sam’s stomach it was almost lunchtime.

“Hello, girls. I’m Annie Dobson, the nanny.”

“Nice to meet you.” Claire shook the woman’s hand and stepped back. “What are you cooking? It smells wonderful.”

“Homemade chicken noodle soup. It’s a favorite around here.”

Sam’s stomach rumbled hungrily.

“We’ll get out of your way so you can have lunch,” Claire said. “Is Mr. Harris … I mean, is AJ around?”

“He had to go out, so he took young William with him. Would you like me to pass along a message?”

So, his son’s name was William.

“Yes, that would be great. Please let him know I’ll call as soon as we have a work plan in place. I’m Claire, by the way. This is Kristi, the interior decorator, and Sam’s our carpenter.”

“Nice to meet you. It’ll be nice having some young women around here for a change, especially a lady carpenter.” Her blue-eyed gaze gave Sam a good going-over. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

“Um …” Sam searched her memory for an image of the woman. Had she worked for the Harris family when Sam had renovated their corporate offices? She was a nanny, so unlikely. “No, I don’t think so.”

Annie’s scrutiny didn’t let up. “No, maybe not. I usually never forget a face, though, and there’s something about you …” She looked away finally and gave the pot of soup another stir. “I’m sure it’ll come to me. Oh, I almost forgot. Mr. Harris asked me to give each of you a key to the front door so you can come and go as you please.” She pulled the keys out of her apron pocket.

“Thanks.” Claire accepted the keys and passed them around.

Sam tucked hers in the pocket of her jeans. “Nice to meet you. I should go,” she said to Claire and Kristi. “I have lots to do.” And she wanted to get out of here before AJ returned. She still had a lot of questions, like did he plan to live here while they did the work or would he make other arrangements? His parents’ home on Mercer Island was certainly big enough. The apartment Sam shared with her mother would fit in their pool house, with room to spare.

Sam hated giving a rat’s ass about his living arrangements, hated herself for hoping he’d be here every day and hated that she still found him the most attractive man she had ever met.

Chapter Three

After a nearly sleepless night spent contemplating his options, AJ decided to honor the contract with Sam’s company. Getting out of it would take time, and money. Hiring someone else to do the work would take more time. There was also a chance that firing them would raise Sam’s suspicions, and he couldn’t risk that.

Not that it should matter. She had abruptly and cold-heartedly ended their relationship, neglected to tell him she was pregnant and then decided to put their baby up for adoption as though he had no say in the matter. It was purely by coincidence that, months after Sam had broken things off with him, he happened to see her. He’d been sitting in the glass-walled boardroom of the law firm that handled Harris Marketing and Communications’ contract negotiations and had been stunned to see Sam Elliott—a very pregnant Sam Elliott—walk out of Melanie Morrow’s office. Melanie practiced family law. AJ had met her at a handful of social gatherings and didn’t know her well, but well enough to know she wanted to get ahead and make a name for herself, mostly by handling high-profile divorce cases.

He’d never had much interest in contracts—he much preferred the creative side of the business—but his father had insisted he take an active role. That day he had suffered through the meeting and while the lawyers argued about costs and compensations, he had pondered Sam’s protruding belly, performed some mental calculations of his own and quickly came to the conclusion that what was inside that belly could very well be his. Was it possible that the woman he had been so in love with could be carrying his child without telling him? It was impossible to believe she was that coldhearted, and having another man’s baby would certainly explain why she’d given AJ the brush-off. And now she and that other man were already headed for a divorce, or so it would seem. If that was the case, it was none of his business, but he needed to know.

By the time the meeting was over, he’d come up with a plan to stop by Melanie’s office on his way out, invite her to join him for a drink after work and figure out a way to direct the conversation around to Sam. He’d never been much for small talk but that hadn’t mattered because two wine spritzers had been all it took to loosen Melanie’s tongue.

What he learned was something he’d never imagined possible, and it hit him harder than anything up until then, even harder than his brother’s suicide all those years ago. Sam wasn’t married. Her baby was due in two months, the father wasn’t “involved,” she didn’t want the baby and she was setting up a private adoption. Counting back from her due date showed the baby had been conceived when they were together. He wasn’t sure what he thought of Sam at that moment, but he was absolutely sure of two things. She didn’t sleep around, and she was having his baby. A baby she didn’t want. The realization cut him to the core. It had taken a week to come up with a plan, then he’d asked Melanie out for dinner, and the rest was history.

A history that yesterday had crashed into his life like a steamroller. He had always intended to get away from Seattle before this could happen. Now that it had, and as bizarre as it sounded even in his head, keeping Sam around to do the work was safer than sending her packing. Claire DeAngelo, who seemed to be the one in charge although she insisted the three of them were equal partners, thought the work would take several weeks and she’d have the house on the market before Christmas.