"What are you doing here?" she blurted.
He looked up. "We've been having serious father-son chats. They have lots of questions, and I rotate the boys around so they don't think I like any one better than the others." He grinned self-consciously. "I hope it's okay. I just had this overwhelming urge to spend a little time alone with them."
"Where's Joan?"
"Oh, I gave her a quarter and sent her to the movies. Isn't that what American men do with kid brothers and sisters?"
"Not since about 1955."
"I told her to take the rest of the day off, and she seemed pleased to do so."
"And what did you intend to do when one of your boys messes a diaper? Can you handle that alone?"
He laughed. "My sons are well-bred lads. They wouldn't do that to me. Even if they did, I grew up caring for younger siblings. I am an expert with diapers." He held up his cell phone. "I took lots and lots of pictures. I sent a nice set to my Mamacita."
"Mamacita?"
"Little mother. An affectionate term for the boys' paternal grandmother. She was so excited when I told her about them. Those pictures will be shown in half the homes in Barcelona by tomorrow."
"She's pleased about them, then?"
"She's excited. She won't truly be pleased until I bring them to visit so she can pinch their cheeks herself. The only thing she's not pleased about is that I couldn't tell her their names.
Lissa laughed. "What, Joan didn't tell you?"
"Nope, she refused, she said … ." He took a moment to scan his memory banks, as a finger rested on his closed lips. "She said, ‘my sister should be the one to give you that bit of news,' or something to that effect."
Lissa sat down, hard. Joan was a sneaky one.
She'd named them in the hospital, while she still held out hope that he would give a shit. Later, after it was obvious that he didn't, she'd regretted that she'd given each of them his name, but not that it seemed more likely that he cared …
She sighed.
"What, did you name them Dipshits One Two and Three or something?"
Lissa laughed and punched his arm, "Of course not, silly."
"Okay, but don't laugh."
He crossed his heart then zipped his lips.
She pointed to her first born, then to her second, and then to her third born son.
"That's Marco Julio, that's Ryland Julio, and squirmy one over there is Hunter Julio."
His smile lit up his face and for the first time, she saw a tiny dimple in the cleft of his chin. Her heart gave a lurch; he was happy she'd done that.
She thought he'd make a big deal out of it, but instead he just turned to the boys.
"Well, hello, Mr. Marco Julio, Mr. Ryland Julio, and Mr. Squirmy Hunter Julio."
The boys giggled.
"You four look so sweet down there. I think I'll change clothes and join you," she said. "Life can seem simpler on the floor."
As Lissa dressed, she tried to get a handle on her feelings. On the one hand, it was exciting to see Julio in her home, playing with his children. On the other hand, she'd been looking forward all day to being alone with them herself. It was just dawning on her now that she wasn't the only family they had-it wasn't Lissa and her three boys, with the assistance of Joan, against the world. They had a father who was delighted with them, and uncles and aunts in Spain, and grandparents. There was a network of people who cared about them.
For so long she and Joan had been family, and this sudden population explosion in her life changed so many things. She needed to rethink her life.
As she went to her room, she realized that she had so much left to learn about Julio, about his family, about his way of living. And they needed to decide so many things, so many important things. Many of them would determine not only how they lived, but who their boys would grow up to be. It was time to throw preconceptions out the window.
When she returned, she sat on the floor, father and mother absorbed in enjoying their three children.
Eventually, Julio spoke about something other than how incredibly handsome and smart their children appeared to be.
"Could we talk a little business, for a moment?
She glanced at him. "Sure, but first I have to tell you. I found out why I never got your messages. I don't know about the alleged flowers, but all emails to or from you got routed to the trash by a virus program. The IT guy said Tina had it installed."
Julio's relaxed face suddenly stiffened, and he looked away. "Lissa, I feel bad that I never just got on a goddamn plane and knocked on your door. I missed so much. I missed seeing you big as a barn with our babies, I missed seeing them born."
"You probably didn't for the same reason I didn't track you down when I found out I was pregnant-hurt, savage pride."
"Aren't we a pair? Both of us nursing our grievances."
She opened her briefcase and showed him a sheaf of papers. "I'm catching up with your emails. Abby found them."
He raised an eyebrow. "I hope I said nice things."
"So far, except when you lost your patience."
He cringed. "Mea culpa."
Tyler Walker offered her a chair in his plush office. The chair was a comfortable, soft, light-brown leather. A seductive chair. "So Acker found himself a trump card?"
The word was out already. Naturally Acker would make sure it was known far and wide.
"I'm trying to work out a solution. I thought I'd see if you might have any ideas."
"Advice and ideas are free, gratis, on the house."
"So no charge?"
"I'd only ask a small token payment-marry me."
"No, Tyler. You'd hate me after a week."
"I'll risk it. And what if I don't care?"
"The father of my children might still object."
"There is that. He probably is the reason you don't want to work with Tom."
"Ah, here is where it gets interesting. I don't like being coerced." She told him about the contract. "On top of that, I want to work with Julio. He and I share ideas and values, or seem to."
"And three kids."
"By working with him, I think we could do an amazing job."
"The idea that it's backdated is just a theory, right? I mean, it's a notarized document."
"By his secretary."
"What does Tina say?"
She winced. "Probably something along the lines of ‘fuck off.'"
"You haven't talked to her? But if she's been cut out, maybe she'd be willing to make a deal."
"There is a gray area there, making a deal with her to tell the truth."
"True."
"So I'm open to other ideas," Lissa prodded.
Tyler steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair. "All this wheeling and dealing is rather outside my area of expertise, unfortunately. You need to talk to Julio, and probably to Tina."
"So that's your advice?"
"I did tell you to marry me."
"Yes, you did."
"I could try and talk to Tom, but I think he is out for blood."
"To cripple the opposition."
"I told you to throw Tina out the window. You should be taking my advice more seriously."
"Throw Tina out the window and marry you."
"Except that it's too late for the Tina part."
She stood up. "I love talking with you, Tyler. It seldom accomplishes much, but it makes me feel better."
"Another reason to marry me."
"As if you needed another reason."
"Maybe I should ask Joan to marry me. You might have gotten all the stubbornness allocated to the family."
"You're welcome to try."
CHAPTER TEN
Once again she came home to the strange and wonderful sight of Julio with his children. He beamed as he fed the children dinner, helped bathe them, and then tucked them into bed.
The boys seemed to respond well to him, and settled right down. "You have kid magic," she told him when they left the children sleeping and returned to the living room.
"I've been around babies enough to admit that this was beginner's luck. Don't expect a consistent result from me."
"You love them."
"You sound surprised. Did you think I was a baby hater?"
"I thought you were a jet-setting billionaire."
"They aren't supposed to be mutually exclusive. That's not the way my contract reads."
"Speaking of contracts, a problem came up today. It's a big one."
"I'm good with problems. And I'm exploring a new strategy where I wrap them in dirty diapers and toss them out."
"That doesn't sound environmentally friendly."
"Perhaps not. Well, great ideas often need refinement." He put the baby monitor on the table and sat on the couch. "So pour me a drink and tell me the contract woes."
"Tom Acker showed up in my office waving one in my face that has Tina's signature on it. It's dated prior to the birth of the triplets, and supposedly gives him exclusive rights to my services on the Milan bid." He nodded. She was certain he understood the ramifications, but spelled them out anyway with him listening carefully.
"So it's one of those ‘if you won't work for me, you won't work' deals?"
"For the Milan project, at least."
"And you aren't sure it's real?"