And Babies Make Four

His lack of self-discipline surprised and annoyed him. It had been years since he hadn’t been able to throw a rope around his thoughts and rein them in.

He had even managed to contain the pain and guilt he felt over Debra’s death, placing the emotions in a sealed area so that he could get on with his work. That had been the important thing then. Work had been his main goal, his main purpose for existing and his salvation, all wrapped up in one—much to the relief of the great many investors that his company handled who had come to depend very heavily on his knowledge and his savvy.

Without him a lot of people would have found themselves adrift in financial waters that seemed to keep insisting on changing course without giving the slightest warning to them.

He wasn’t much good to any of them now, least of all himself, Jason thought darkly, thoroughly disgusted with himself.

With a sigh he closed the folder containing the reports he’d been staring at without success for the past half hour. Pushing away from the desk, he dragged a hand through his hair.

The July sun was shining brightly into his window, and he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. He doubted that anyone looking at him would have had a clue what was going on inside of him, just as they wouldn’t have been able to tell back in the days when he was in high school. He’d learned early on how to mask his feelings from the outside world.

But that didn’t make them any less real to him.

This had to stop, he told himself. But at the moment, he didn’t see how. It couldn’t end by dismissing Mindy. He hadn’t expected it, but she was good. She’d taken to the work like a proverbial duck to water, absorbing everything he said. Unlike with the temps who had paraded through the office, he hadn’t had to explain anything to her twice. What was more, she didn’t act as if he was speaking in some unfathomable foreign language. The world of finance left a great many people anesthetized, but Mindy just looked at him with those bright-blue eyes of hers, and he could see she understood. In his book, that made her a very rare person.

But then, he already knew that.

Jason massaged his forehead. The shadow of a headache was playing hide-and-seek with his temples, threatening to take over. What he needed, he thought, was a stiff drink. He didn’t indulge often, but this definitely felt like one of those times men announced that they needed a drink.

Nerve endings tightened as he heard the knock on his door. Nathalie rarely knocked, she just strolled in. The fact that it could be one of the interns whom he kept to pore over every bit of news data that affected the market, never even occurred to him.

He knew it was her. “Come in.”

And he was right. The next moment Mindy was standing in the doorway, her hand resting on the doorknob, a somewhat uncertain expression on her face.

He wasn’t accustomed to seeing her that way. The Mindy Conway he remembered was the last word in confidence, in vibrancy.

But she wasn’t Mindy Conway anymore, she was Mindy Richards, he reminded himself.

Looking at her now, it seemed as if someone had put out her light, and she was struggling to strike at least a small match again.

What had happened to her? he wondered.

Mindy cleared her throat. The last time she’d felt this awkward, she’d accidentally put on two different-colored shoes and hadn’t realized it until she was halfway to class.

“Um, it’s five o’clock and I was going to…”

The words didn’t feel right even as she said them. They felt stilted on her tongue. Everything since she’d walked in on Brad, in his plush insurance office, body wrestling with his secretary, had felt stilted to her. As though she was walking around in someone else’s dream.

Or someone else’s nightmare. It certainly wasn’t hers.

Mindy bit her lower lip and tried again. The words still didn’t feel right. Or maybe it was just the situation. Here she was, playing office with someone she’d once envisioned dressed only in a loincloth. She’d heard from someone in high school that Jason had a killer body. She had a feeling he still did.

“I was wondering, will there be anything else before I go home, um, Mr. Mallory?”

She saw him frown. Had she said something wrong? When he’d given her instructions today he’d been even more reserved than she’d remembered. At least back in high school she’d caught him looking her way occasionally. Enough times to set her heart racing. This time he was acting as if she was some kind of annoyance he was forced to deal with because of circumstances.

Jason’s frowned deepened at her use of his last name. The chasm between them felt even wider than before. “Don’t call me that.”

She pressed her lips together. “What should I call you?”

“Jason.” He fairly snapped out his own name.

She tilted her head slightly as if considering the directive. And then she shook it. “But you’re my boss, it doesn’t seem right.”

He laughed shortly, the words escaping before he could think them through. “It doesn’t seem right me being your boss.”

“Are you going to fire me?” Her breath made a pit stop in her throat and stayed there.

He looked as her as if she’d just suggested his alter ego was Spiderman. “What gave you that idea?”

Was it going to be like this every day? Was she going to feel horribly uncomfortable every time she was in his presence? She’d tried her damnedest today to be bright and cheery and eager, hoping to win him over, but he’d just seemed to become progressively worse every time he talked to her.

Mindy felt as if she was digging a deeper hole for herself with every word she uttered. But she had no choice but to respond. “Well, for one thing, you’re frowning.”

“He always frowns.”

Mindy almost sighed with relief as she heard Nathalie’s voice behind her. Turning, she saw the woman pausing in the doorway, obviously on her way out.

Nathalie’s eyes were smiling as she turned them toward her. “You know how when you were a kid and your mother warned you not to make funny faces because it would freeze that way? Jason didn’t listen.” With a throaty laugh at her own joke, Nathalie patted her on the shoulder. “Just wanted to tell you you did a great job today, Mindy. Keep it up.” She looked significantly at Jason. “Well, I have to go. I’ve got a date,” she announced.

Jason glanced at his calendar, as if to assure himself that this was Monday, the beginning of a work week. “A date?”

“Yes, a date.”

Nathalie leaned into the office, her eyes on Jason. She tossed her hair, obviously knowing the lighting would catch some of the red highlights her hairdresser had slaved to put in.

“Some of us have a social life.” She winked at her partner. “See you tomorrow, smiley.”

Nodding at Mindy, she sailed out of the room and out of the suite of offices.

Nathalie left silence in her wake. Jason shifted in his seat. He and Nathalie needed to have a long talk soon about her less-than-subtle hints.

“Well, you’re probably in a hurry to get to your husband, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” He was already looking down at the report he couldn’t seem to read.

She was being dismissed, Mindy thought. A lot better than being fired. Still, something wouldn’t allow her to leave this way. “That won’t be possible.”

Jason raised his eyes from his reading material and caused a tidal wave in her stomach. She hoped the twins were able to grab on to something stable to weather the storm out.

“I won’t see you tomorrow?”

“No, I mean it won’t be possible for me to hurry to my husband.”

Having gone through the trauma himself, the first thing that occurred to Jason was that her spouse was dead. And he’d just told her to hurry off home to him. Quickly he tried to make amends.

“Hey, I’m sorry—”

She had no idea why he felt he had to apologize. “Nothing for you to be sorry about.” Unable to stop it, the mental image of Brad’s limbs tangled around that two-bit, anorexic flake he’d supposedly hired to take dictation flashed across her brain. “Brad, of course, is another story.”