Part 4 (1/2)
Obviously controlling his anger, he looked at the ceiling then back at her. ”If I spend two weeks with you and the baby you won't contest shared custody,” he said, repeating what he believed to be their arrangement.
”If by the end of those two weeks I believe you'll be good to Sarah.”
Sarah had stopped sucking. Grace glanced down to see the baby had fallen asleep in her arms. ”If you wish, we can have our lawyers draw up papers.”
”Oh, I will have my lawyer write an agreement.”
”Great. Once we get it signed we can start.”
”You'll have it tonight. Do you have an e-mail address?”
”Yes.”
”Watch your computer. You'll have the agreement before you go to bed. You can e-mail me directions to your house and I'll be there tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FIVE.
WHEN GRACE received Danny's e-mail with their agreement as an attachment, she realized that no matter how simple and straightforward, she couldn't sign any legal doc.u.ment without the advice of counsel. She replied saying she wanted her own lawyer to review the agreement before she signed it, expecting him to be angry at the delay. Instead he was surprisingly accommodating of her request.
She spoke with a lawyer Monday morning, who gave her the go-ahead to sign, and e-mailed Danny that she had executed the agreement and he could sign it that evening when he arrived at her house.
Busy at work, she didn't give Danny or the agreement another thought until she walked into the foyer of her little bungalow and saw something she hadn't considered.
The downstairs of her house had an open floor plan. Pale orange ceramic tile ran from the foyer to the back door. An oatmeal-colored Berber area rug sat beneath the burnt-orange tweed sofa and the matching love seat, delineating that s.p.a.ce. Similarly the tan, brown and black print rug beneath the oak table and chairs marked off the dining area. A black-and-tan granite-topped breakfast bar separated the living room from the kitchen, but because there were no cabinets above it, people in the kitchen were clearly visible from any point downstairs.
Grace wasn't afraid that Danny wouldn't like her home. She didn't give a d.a.m.n if he liked it or not. What troubled her was that with the exception of the two bedrooms, both upstairs, there was nowhere to hide. Anytime they were downstairs they would technically be together.
”Well, Sarah,” she said, sliding the baby out of her carrier seat and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. In her yellow one-piece outfit, Sarah looked like a ray of suns.h.i.+ne. ”I guess it's too late to worry about that now.”
As the words came out of her mouth, the doorbell rang, and Grace winced. If that was Danny, it really was too late to worry about the close quarters of her house now.
Angling the baby on her hip, Grace walked to the door and opened it. Danny stood on her small porch, holding a garment bag, with a duffel bag sitting beside his feet. Dressed in jeans and a loose-fitting sport s.h.i.+rt, he looked comfortable and relaxed, reminding her of their time together at his beach house.
A sudden avalanche of emotion overtook her. She had really fallen hard for him that weekend. Not just because he was s.e.xy, though he was. He had an air of power and strength that-combined with his s.h.i.+ny black hair, piercing black eyes and fabulous body-made him one of the s.e.xiest men Grace had ever met. Staring into his eyes, she remembered the way he made love to her. She remembered their pillow talk and their one phone conversation. He had definitely felt something for her that weekend, too, but in the one short week he was out of town he'd lost it. He hadn't believed her when she told him she was pregnant. He'd kicked her out of his office. And now they were here. Fighting over custody of a baby he hadn't wanted.
”This house doesn't look big enough for two people, let alone three.”
”It's got more s.p.a.ce than you think,” Grace said, opening the door a little wider so he could enter, as she reminded herself she had to do this because she couldn't beat him in court. ”It looks like a ranch, but it isn't. There are two bedrooms upstairs.”
”Yeah, they're probably no bigger than closets.”
Grace told herself she could do this. She'd dealt with grouchy Danny every time she'd spoken to him-except for that one weekend. The person she'd met that weekend was more likely the exception and grouchy Danny was the rule. She wasn't about to let their two weeks begin with her apologizing.
Ignoring his closet comment, she said, ”Let's take your bags upstairs and get them out of the way.”
Grace turned and began walking up the steps, and, following after her, Danny got a flashback of following her up the steps of his beach house. It intensified when he glanced down at the steps to avoid looking at her shapely legs. The memory was so clear it made him dizzy, as if he were stepping back in time.
But he wasn't. They were here and now, fifteen months later. She'd had his child. She might have done it without him, but ultimately she'd brought the baby to him. And why not? As far as Grace knew little Sarah could inherit a fortune-even before Danny was dead if she became the CEO of Carson Services when Danny retired.
He didn't want even a portion of the family fortune to go to an opportunist, but his threat of taking Grace to court to get full custody had been empty. An attempt to pressure her into giving him their daughter. Then Grace had come up with a compromise and to Danny's surprise it really did suit him. He could train Sarah without paying off her mother.
Plus, he no longer had the worry that a custody battle gave her reason to dig into his past.
All he had to do was spend two weeks with Grace, a woman who he believed tricked him.
At the top of the steps, Grace turned to the right, opened a door, and stepped back so he could enter the room. To his surprise, Grace was correct, the bedroom was more s.p.a.cious than he'd thought from the outward appearance of the house. Even with a double bed in the center of the room, a knotty pine armoire and dresser, and a small desk in the corner, there was plenty of s.p.a.ce to walk.
He hesitantly said, ”This is nice.”
”We have to share the bathroom.”
He faced her. She'd taken a few steps into the room, as if wanting to be available to answer questions, but not exactly thrilled to be in the same room with him. Especially not a bedroom.
Her soft voice triggered another batch of beach house memories. Grace telling him to promote someone else. Grace looking like an angel in front of the upstairs widows. Grace ready to accept his kiss...
He shoved the memories out of his brain, reminding himself that woman probably didn't exist. ”I'll keep my things in a shaving kit. I won't take up any room.”
She turned away from him with a shrug. Walking to the door, she said, ”It doesn't matter one way or the other to me.”
He couldn't tell if she intended to insult him or prove to him that his being there had no meaning to her beyond their reaching an accord about custody, but the indifference he heard in her voice was just fine with him. He didn't want to be involved with her any more than she wanted to be involved with him.
Which should make for a fabulous two weeks.
He tossed his duffel bag on the bed and walked the garment bag to the closet before going downstairs. At the bottom of the steps, he realized that the entire first floor of the house was open. He could see Grace puttering in the compact kitchen and Sarah swinging contentedly in the baby swing sitting in the s.p.a.ce between the dining area and living room.
Walking to the kitchen, he said, ”Anything I can help you with?”
”You're here for Sarah. So why don't you amuse her, while I make dinner?”
”Okay.” Her cool tone of voice didn't affect him because she was correct. He was here for Sarah. Not for Grace. Not to make small talk or plans or, G.o.d forbid, even to become friendly.
He glanced at the cooing baby. A trip to the department store that morning to arrange for baby furniture to be delivered to his house had shown him just how behind the times he had become in the nine years that had pa.s.sed since Cory was a baby. Playpens were now play yards. Car seats had become downright challenging. He didn't have to be a genius to know that if the equipment had changed, so had the rules. He wouldn't do anything with Sarah without asking.
”Should I take her out of the seat?”
Pulling a salad bowl from a cabinet, Grace said, ”Not when she's happy. Just sit on the floor in front of her and chat.”
Chat. With a baby. He'd tried that the day Grace brought Sarah to his house and hadn't known what to say. Obviously he had to think of something to talk about other than investing. But he wasn't sitting on the floor. After a quick look around, he grabbed one of the oak ladder-back chairs from the table in the dining room section and set it in front of the swing.
”Hey, Sarah.”
She pulled the blue plastic teething ring from her mouth and cooed at him. He smiled and settled more comfortably on the chair as he studied her, trying to think of something to say. Nothing came. She gurgled contently as she waved her arms, sending the scent of baby powder through the air to his nose. That brought a burst of memories of Cory.
He'd been so proud of that kid. So smitten. So enamored with the fun of having a baby that he'd thought his life was perfect. Then Cory had shown artistic ability and Lydia wanted to send him to special school. Danny had thought she was jumping the gun, making a decision that didn't need to be made until Cory was older.