Daddy's Girl (Bachelor Fathers) Page 4

  "You're good," he observed. "Is it part of the job description?"

  "Sometimes," she said, adjusting the dishtowel draped over her shoulder. "Depending on the account involved, I could be anything from mother substitute to traffic cop to court jester."

  Daisy burped loudly and they both laughed.

  "So what are you going to do with your six weeks off?" Hunter asked as Daisy's blue eyes began to close.

  "Nothing much," said Jeannie with a sigh. "I'd been thinking of going to Bermuda, but I still haven't managed to get a passport. I suppose I'll just putter around the apartment and catch up on my reading."

  And that was when the idea hit him.

  "Why don't you come with me?"

  "To Bermuda?"

  "To nowhere."

  "What?"

  "A cruise to nowhere. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. I don't know why I didn't come up with this sooner. My problems are over."

  "You've lost me, Hunter. Back up a few paces and start again."

  "I have to work. You're on vacation. Daisy needs someone to watch her. It's simple."

  "Not to me it isn't."

  "It's like this." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and fixed her with a look. "I can't leave Daisy home. You'd like to get away for a few days. The agency booked a two-bedroom cabin for me on the cruise ship we're representing." He leaned back, the picture of male contentment. "It's perfect."

  "Perfect for you," said Jeannie, rising to her feet. "I don't know what your deal is, Hunter, but at least now I know why you wanted to have dinner with me." The look she gave him was filled with reproach. "Thanks but no thanks. Find yourself another babysitter. This one's on vacation."

  "Maybe I'm not saying this right." Hunter cast about for a new angle. "The commercial for the Star of the Atlantic has to be perfect or I'm history."

  "We all have our problems. These days nobody's job is secure."

  "Right," he said, heartened that he'd at least got this far. "That's not the end of the world when you have only yourself to think about. Look, I don't expect you to understand, but when you have a kid to consider, it's Armageddon."

  Jeannie felt her defenses weaken. The last thing she needed was to become emotionally involved with Daisy--or with her father. But there was something so appealingly sincere about his expression that she almost forgot he was an advertising exec. "Of course I understand, but I'm afraid I don't see what's in it for me."

  "A cruise," he said, gaining enthusiasm. "A chance to kick back and relax. Meet new people."

  "Advertising types? No thanks." She could just imagine the gossip mill working overtime, linking her and Hunter together in some romantic liaison.

  "I'm the only advertising type going," he said. "All expenses paid, Jeannie. Think of it as a vacation."

  "Right. A vacation with an eight-month-old baby."

  "I'll be there, too," he reminded her. "When I'm not working, she's my responsibility. You can do whatever you want." Jeannie was a great-looking woman. He wasn't about to commandeer all of her free time--especially since she'd made it obvious he wasn't her type at all. "There are no strings involved, if that's what you're worrying about. I'm too tired these days to put the moves on Michelle Pfeiffer."

  "Thanks for the compliment," she drawled, a half-smile on her face. She remembered the busty blond model he'd been eyeing at the agency that morning. Small brunettes were obviously not his style. He'd already told her he was ambitious. For all she knew this could be a ploy designed to win her over to his side.

  It was working.

  "I'll think about it."

  "I can't ask for more than that, can I?"

  "You probably can," she said, "but I wouldn't advise it."

  "You think I'm being pushy, don't you?"

  "Obnoxious is more like it. Charming at times, but obnoxious."

  "Comes with the territory," he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Survival of the fittest at CN&S. Believe it or not, I can be a pretty decent guy under more normal circumstances."

  "I'll have to take your word for that."

  Hunter polished off a second cup of coffee then stood up. "I was out of line," he said, beginning to gather up Daisy's belongings. "Forget I said anything. I'm grasping at straws these days anyway." He pitched the empty bottle and blanket into his carryall. "I still owe you dinner for taking care of Daisy during the shoot this morning."

  "Taking care of adorable babies is what I do for a living," she said. "No special thanks necessary."

  Hunter knew an impasse when he saw one. The lady wasn't interested. Time to say goodnight and goodbye. She plucked Daisy from the nest of pillows and held her close. He noticed the way she cradled the baby's head--and the kiss she pressed to Daisy's cheek when she thought he wasn't looking.

  "Take care, Jeannie Ross," he said as he claimed his daughter at the door.

  "You too, Hunter Phillips."

  And that, he supposed, was that.

  And it might have been, if it weren't for the keys.

  Jeannie was getting ready for bed a few hours later when she saw them peeking out from under the skirt of the sofa. Daisy's colorful plastic keys.

  Smiling, she crouched down and retrieved them.

  "Oh, Daisy," she said out loud, jingling the keys together. "What are you going to do without your toy?"

  She glanced at the clock. A little after eleven. Hunter might be asleep by now. Daisy most certainly was. After hearing the story about his sister Callie's death, she wasn't about to call him so late. First thing in the morning she'd ring him at the office and let him know Daisy's keys were safe and sound.

  If only she had a quarter for every favorite toy she'd rescued these past few years for one of her show-business charges. Stuffed dogs with floppy ears. Big cuddly pandas. Security blankets, silver rattles, and dolls of all descriptions.

  Christy and Sara had been no exceptions. If Jeannie closed her eyes, she could summon up the image of the big old terry cloth dinosaur that they had loved to distraction. "No, Mommy, no!" they'd cried each time she had to pry Dino away from them in order to wash him.

  "He won't be gone forever," she would say with a laugh. "Didn't Daddy tell you--"

  She blinked her eyes, willing herself back into the present. Daisy and Hunter's plight had reached her more deeply than she'd imagined, stirring up memories from her long-ago life. There was no way he could have known how his story would affect her--no one could have. She'd been hard on him before when he'd suggested she join them on the cruise to nowhere, but not for the reason she'd given. The truth was, she'd wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the winds and say yes.

  The oddest thing had happened to her this morning when she first saw him. She'd been sitting up on the ladder waiting for Amanda Bennett and her mom to show up when Hunter burst from the set, Daisy in his arms, and the feeling settled itself around her heart. His dark hair brushed the back of his collar. His tie was askew. A wet spot was spreading across his pants, thanks, no doubt, to the picture-perfect baby in his arms.

  Her breath had caught in her throat. She saw beautiful babies every day at work--and beautiful men as well. But there was something about those two that reached deep inside her heart and touched the part of her soul that few people knew existed, making her feel as if she were awakening from a long sleep.

  Not that it mattered, she thought. Smart women didn't go away with total strangers. Hunter was brash, opinionated, and opportunistic in the way of all good advertising men. Not at all her type. Yet there was something else, a basic decency that made everything else seem unimportant. He might not consider himself to be Daisy's father, but one look at the way he cared for that little girl had told her otherwise.

  She felt as if she was awakening from a deep sleep, stretching her arms toward the sun as her eyes grew accustomed to the light. Logic told her that going away with Hunter was absolutely crazy. He and Daisy had managed without her for eight months. They could manage four days at sea
.

  Her heart, however, demanded to be heard.

  Do it, Jeannie. Throw caution to the winds and take a chance.

  She was tired of being alone, tired of listening to the sound of her heart beating at night in the still apartment, tired of wondering why the fates had seen fit to spare her and not the ones she loved.

  It wasn't every day an opportunity like this dropped into your lap, she reasoned. Maybe it was time to stop watching other people having all the fun and have some fun herself.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning Hunter called Baby Minders, Nannies-To-Go, and the sister of one of his pick-up basketball pals, but to no avail. It would have been easier to find Amelia Earhart than to find someone to take care of Daisy on the cruise ship this coming weekend. As soon as they heard he was a single man, they bailed out.

  Daisy had a noontime appointment at the pediatrician for a checkup, so it was a little after two o'clock when Hunter returned to the office.

  Lisa, his assistant, looked up from her computer. "Haines called twice," she said, pushing her trendy glasses to the top of her head. "He wants the figures on the Amstar deal."

  Hunter groaned, as he bent down for Lisa to take Daisy from the backpack he wore. "Who doesn't? Call accounting and see what you can shake out of them." He started for his office.

  "Jeannie Ross called." Eyes twinkling, she handed Daisy over to him. "Anything I should know about?"

  "Get back to work, Lisa." He stalked into his office and closed the door behind him. It took a few minutes to get Daisy settled down in her portable car seat, then a few minutes longer to get through to Jeannie.

  "I have Daisy's key ring," she said after the usual pleasantries.

  He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. "Terrific. I turned the house inside out last night."

  "If you'd like, I'll drop it off with your doorman."

  "I'll pick it up after work," he said, genuinely pleased to hear her voice. "Why should you go to the trouble?"

  A short silence, then: "Fine."

  So much for scintillating conversation. He'd never met a woman as immune to his attempts at charm as Jeannie Ross. It was enough to depress the hell out of a man.

  He cleared his throat. "Don't worry if you have to go out. You can leave the keys with your doorman."

  "He's on vacation. If you tell me what time you'll be here, I'll make sure I'm around."

  "You know CN&S," he said with a short laugh. "The hours are nine to infinity. Don't sit there waiting on my account."

  In her apartment, Jeannie stared at the telephone in dismay. This wasn't going the way she'd planned. He sounded as if he couldn't wait to get off the phone. Was it possible that he'd found someone else to watch Daisy?

  "Listen," she began carefully, "I've been thinking about what you said last night."

  In his office Hunter sat up straight in his chair. "About the cruise?"

  "Yes," said Jeannie. Another beat pause. "Do you still need someone to watch Daisy?"

  "More than ever." He told her about the visit to the pediatrician and the tooth that was ready to erupt any moment.

  "Call me crazy," said Jeannie, "but you can count me in."

  "You'll go?"

  Her laugh curled itself inside his ear. Soft, sexy, womanly. Forget it, Phillips. This is the babysitter you're talking about here. The one who's not interested.

  "I can't believe I'm saying this but yes, I'll go."

  "We have to talk about money. I'm not asking you to do this for nothing."

  "We'll get around to that," she said, her voice light. "Right now I'm more concerned with when and where."

  He rifled through some papers on his desk and found the itinerary.

  "Thursday morning at the pier," she said, repeating the number. "See you then."

  "Well, Daisy," said Hunter as he hung up the phone. "It looks like life's about to get very interesting."

  Jeannie spent the next few days in a blur of activity. There was laundry to do, dry-cleaning to pick up, errands to run. She was so busy that she barely had time to give the reason for all that activity a second thought.

  Which was probably a good thing because if she did give it a second thought, she might have backed out on the deal.

  The night before she even dragged her pal Kate Mullen to a boutique near Bloomingdale's to help her settle on one drop-dead cocktail dress. She couldn't remember the last time she bought a dress simply because it was beautiful and the experience was downright intoxicating.

  "Look at this one," she said, pirouetting before the dressing room mirror. "Spaghetti straps, tight waist, dance skirt."

  "That dress means business," said Kate. "I thought you weren't interested in him."

  "A woman can't buy a dress just because it's gorgeous?"

  "Not a dress like that. That one has seduction written all over it."

  A ripple of excitement raced up Jeannie's spine. "I'm not his type, Kate. He likes them young, blond, and brainless."

  "You're not just saying that so I won't worry about you, are you?"

  She pirouetted once again before the mirror. "He was crazy about that ditsy model they'd hired for the Fancy Pants commercial." But he asked you to dinner, a little voice whispered. And you're the one who's going on the cruise with him.

  "You're crazy," said Kate. "Only a crazy person would do something like this."

  "So I'm crazy," said Jeannie, enjoying the notion. "Everyone's entitled to one moment of insanity."

  "The guy's in advertising," said Kate. "He tells lies for a living."

  Jeannie turned to face her friend. "Don't you think you're making too much of it, Kate? Four measly nights on a cruise ship and you're acting like I'm running away to join the circus."

  "The circus would make more sense. At least there's a future in it."

  "I'm not looking for a future. The guy needs help. I have the time and the expertise." She whirled back to the mirror to admire her dress. "And I get a boat ride in the bargain. I can't lose."

  Kate, an unemployed stand-up comedienne, launched into a hilariously wicked diatribe against single men on the prowl that had Jeannie laughing out loud despite herself. "Good thing I'm not looking for a man," she said, reaching for the zipper of her dress.

  Kate frowned. "Then why are you buying that dress?"

  "Because it's black lace, it's expensive, and I love it."

  "Hope springs eternal," said Kate with a sigh. "Even for those of us over thirty and never married."

  Jeannie cast her friend a sharp look, then glanced away. If you only knew the whole story, Kate....

  "I'll remember you for this, Grantham," Hunter muttered as he struggled to cram six more diapers into the duffel bag. He'd always known his boss was a devious SOB, but this proved it.

  "Daahh?"

  He glanced over at Daisy who was strapped into her car seat and perched on the floor near the luggage.

  "Don't even think about it," he warned with mock solemnity. "That's a new diaper you're wearing."

  Daisy stared at him wide-eyed. He always wondered how much she actually understood. "More than you think," the pediatrician had said when Hunter asked. "She's a little sponge, soaking up everything you can give her."

  At first Hunter had felt like a jerk, talking out loud to an infant whose main concerns in life were food and sleep. But the more he talked to her, the easier it got and now he found himself carrying on a running monologue with the little girl that he figured would come back to haunt him in ten or fifteen years.

  "Okay," he said, "clothes, diapers, bottles, food." Not to mention car seat, toys, and bouncing baby girl.

  All he had to do was get everything downstairs, into the cab, and aboard ship in that order.

  And then work a miracle or two.

  "Mr. Phillips, I'm afraid we simply can't wait a second longer."

  "Five more minutes," Hunter said, peering down at the dock below. "She'll be here."

  The purser, a lean ma
n in his fifties, looked at Hunter with a combination of pity and disdain. "I'll speak to the harbormaster about delaying, but I can't guarantee anything, given the tides and all." The purser hurried off.

  "She wouldn't back out on us without calling, would she, Daisy?" he asked the baby who was strapped into the ubiquitous backpack. Everything he'd heard about Jeannie Ross said that she was as responsible as she was lovely, a rarity in advertising circles. When Jeannie Ross took a job, you knew she'd not only be on time, she'd be ten minutes early.

  An ambulance siren sounded in the distance. What if something had happened to her? New York was a rough city and she hadn't been in town very long. What if she'd decided to do something crazy like take the long way through Central Park?

  He spun around, ready to find the recalcitrant purser and ask him to call the police and the hospitals, only to find himself face-to-face with Jeannie. She was weighed down with suitcases. A huge leather tote was slung over her shoulder, making her list to starboard.

  "Where the hell have you been?" he bellowed over waves of intense relief. "The whole damn ship is looking for you."

  She dropped her bags to the deck with a resounding crash. "No wonder," she snapped right back. The woman might be small but she was feisty. "You might've tried giving me the right pier number."

  He wasn't about to be stopped by logic. "They're holding up the departure for you. I'd better tell the purser you finally showed up."

  "Don't bother. I ran into him near the gangway. Everything's cool."

  This isn't going to be easy, thought Hunter. She's illogical and she has a temper besides.

  Typical male, thought Jeannie. He'd rather eat nails than admit he made a mistake.

  They jumped as two blasts of the ship's horn split the air.

  "Glad you've found each other," said the purser as he approached, clipboard in hand. "We're on our way."

  Jeannie and Hunter looked at each other with growing alarm.

  Short of jumping overboard, they were now stuck with each other for the next five days. They watched in silence as the tug eased the ship toward open waters.