“So you’ve got leaving down to a science. You can do it. No problem.” Everything in his tone was biting, dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m not heartless.”
“Which is why I don’t buy it.”
“Look. You need to focus on holding up your end of our deal. Part of that is hiring a nanny. I’m calling the agency to see if they have anyone else for us to interview.” She slapped the résumés down on the kitchen counter. “In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you would please look these over again and see if you’re willing to reconsider any of these applicants.” She turned on her heel and took extralong strides to get to the stairs.
“Sarah. Hold on.”
She turned back, just in time to see him push aside the résumés. “What?”
He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry if it seems like I have ridiculous standards, but my gut is telling me that those women were not right. Remember, this is all new to me. Almost too new. I’m doing my best. I swear.”
She crossed her arms, hoping it would make it easier to buffer her attraction to him. It was hopeless when he was being sweet about the baby and talking in that tone that made her want to flatten him against the wall and climb him like a tree. “I know you’re trying. I’m just antsy about time. We don’t have much and I have to get back to Boston and Kama.”
“I know you do, which is the other thing I need to say to you. Anna and I are working on getting us into a charity fashion show, organized by Fad Forward Magazine. Apparently it’s a big deal.”
Holy crap. Sarah clamped her hand over her mouth to keep a string of elated profanity from leaving her lips. “The Forward Style show? Where is it this year?”
“Miami. I thought I’d just buy tickets, but you have to be invited, which seems ludicrous since it’s a charity event...”
Sarah couldn’t breathe. She’d seen the pictures in Fad Forward Magazine every year since she was a teenager. Their annual charity fashion show was a chance for designers to bring out their most adventuresome work, and was attended by fashion legends, rock stars, Hollywood bigwigs and sometimes even royalty.
“Everybody who’s anybody will be there. But I’m not sure it will help me.”
“Our target is Sylvia Hodge. She’s the honorary host this year. Anna and I dug up some info that she’s acquiring new brands, but she’s about to spend six months in Europe and Asia, looking for designers. If we want to meet face-to-face with her, going to Miami is the only way. And we might have to just walk up to her and start talking. I can’t get her to take my call.”
“But you’re Aiden Langford. Isn’t your last name enough?”
“Sylvia Hodge’s admin didn’t seem to care who I was.”
“If we go, what are our chances?”
He shrugged. “No idea. Right now I’m waiting to see if they’ll let me buy tickets.”
“But the tickets. I can’t afford that. They’re tens of thousands of dollars.”
“It’s my treat.”
“But it goes so far beyond our agreement.”
“You brought me Oliver. It’s the least I can do.”
* * *
After having been away from LangTel for much of Friday and all of Monday so far, Aiden had a mountain of work, but he couldn’t focus, not even with the relative quiet of working from home. The clock on the wall was taunting him. Three forty-five. Fifteen minutes until his mother was set to arrive to meet Oliver.
Sarah poked her head into his office, Oliver on her hip. The baby smiled at him, sweetly tilting his head to the side. This child would be the death of him, in a good way.
“If you’re still working, I can hang out with Oliver until your mom arrives,” she said. “Then I’ll clear out so you three can have some time alone.”
Aiden was trying to be optimistic, clinging to the idea that Oliver would bridge the chasm between him and his mother, but he had too many reasons to believe that would not be the case. “Where are you headed?”
“Out for a run. With all of the excitement of waiting to hear about Miami, I’m way too tense. Plus, I haven’t worked out in days. I feel like a slob.”
His vision drifted over her. She was wearing black leggings that showed off her fit and healthy curves, with a formfitting top that left her bare shoulders on display. Her hair was back in a high ponytail. He stepped out from behind his desk and took Oliver, unable to keep from admiring her. He wrestled with a deep desire to thread his hands into the back of her golden blond hair and pull out the rubber band, tilt her head back and give her the sort of kiss that makes a woman linger for a moment afterward with her eyes half-open.