One Night with Morelli(5)

                ‘I am fond of Clare—let’s face it, it’s hard not to be fond of Clare,’ her ex-husband conceded. ‘But I wouldn’t trust her to take care of a cat, let alone a teenager. Can you imagine it…?’ He shook his dark head, grimacing at the mental image.

                When they handed out the responsibility gene Clare was out of the room. Josie had been three months old when his ex had gone out for a facial and manicure and not come back. Left effectively a single parent at twenty, Draco had had to learn some new skills very quickly—he still was learning.

                Fatherhood was a constant challenge, as was resisting his mother’s interference. When he’d told the grieving widow that she needed a new challenge in her life, he certainly hadn’t intended that challenge to be him! When Veronica Morelli wasn’t turning up on his doorstep without warning with large suitcases she was trying to set him up with suitable women—the marrying kind.

                ‘She’s asking for joint custody, Draco, and she is the girl’s mother.’ Frazer held up a hand to stem the eruption his comment invited and continued calmly. ‘But, no, given the circumstances and her history I don’t think there is any prospect of any court coming down on her side, even if it got that far and she did marry Edward Weston. It’s not as if she doesn’t have access, very reasonable access, already to Josie.’

                Draco nodded. No matter what her faults were, his ex-wife was Josie’s mother and she was in her own way fond of her only child. Clare’s fondness meant months could go by and their daughter would have no contact beyond the occasional text or email from her mother, then she would appear loaded with gifts and was for a time a doting mother, until something else caught her interest.

                Draco’s objectivity when he thought of his ex-wife was still tinged with cynicism but the corrosive anger had long since gone. He was even able to recognise that it had always been aimed more at himself than Clare, and with some justification when you considered the stubborn sentimentalism masquerading as love that had made him go through with a marriage that had had impending disaster written all over it.

                ‘So you don’t think I have anything to worry about?’ he asked.

                ‘I’m a lawyer, Draco—in my world there is always something to worry about.’

                ‘Sure, I might walk under a bus.’ He glanced at his watch and got to his feet, brushing an invisible speck from the perfectly tailored pale grey jacket. Actually, he was catching a helicopter rather than a bus to the wedding of Charlie Latimer; he found weddings depressing, and boring, but Josie was very excited about dressing up and he was making an effort for her sake.

                ‘Is it true that Latimer is marrying his cook?’

                ‘I haven’t a clue.’ Draco, who had less liking for gossip than he did weddings, replied honestly while he thought of a pink tartan bra and a pair of big green eyes…

                On his way down in the elevator he thought some more about the bra’s owner, and he was so involved in the mental images that there was a twenty-second delay before he noticed that the lift door had opened.

                Focus, Draco… He did not for a second doubt his ability to do just that; it was a case of prioritising and he was good at that. It had been this ability that had got him past the first few weeks and months after Clare had walked out. He could have carried on being bitter, twisted and generally wallowing in a morass of self-pity; he could have allowed himself to be defined by that failure.

                But he hadn’t.

                After that reminder, keeping his libido on a leash was relatively simple and he told himself that Green Eyes was definitely not his type. Still, there had been something about her…