The Good Father

Instead, he scooped up Kaylee and placed her in his lap. She looked up at him with big, questioning eyes, and Max prayed that she didn’t let loose with an earsplitting scream like she’d done yesterday afternoon, before her medicine had taken effect and dulled the pain of her earache.

He also hoped she didn’t call him “mean” as she’d done two days ago. Having Ellen see him reviled by a little girl wouldn’t help with his image.

But either Kaylee was too drowsy on medicine to show much of a reaction, or she had revised her opinion of Max, because after a moment or two she looked away and settled into his lap, shoving her thumb into her mouth.

“Anyway,” Max said, “I’ve done some research into the demographics of some smaller circulation magazines…” He continued the presentation as if nothing was wrong, keeping one arm around Kaylee and using the other to point out the various numbers as he talked about them.

Ogden seemed interested. He asked several intelligent questions about the magazines, and Max answered them with confidence.

Ellen, however, seemed a little bored, and her gaze frequently strayed to Kaylee. Maybe numbers weren’t her thing. Since she was the ultimate decision-maker, he tried not to get too technical.

She probably thought having a child at their meeting was the height of nonprofessionalism. If Jane and her wayward three-year-old lost him this account, he was not going to be happy.

Finally the meeting concluded, and Kaylee had fallen asleep, drooling slightly on Max’s shirt. Wonderful.

Max stood as his potential clients did, managing to hold Kaylee with one hand and shake hands with the other. Kaylee didn’t wake. She was a limp rag doll in his arms.

He had to admit it was a rather nice feeling, having a little human being trust him to this degree. She reminded him painfully of Hannah, the only other child he’d ever held like this, and his heart lurched at the thought.

Breaking up with Hannah’s mother had been a relief. But losing Hannah-God, it would kill him to go through something like that again.

Max walked his clients down the hall. They took the beautiful ads Jane had drawn with them, intending to show them to others on staff.

“We’ll be making a decision in the next couple of weeks,” Ellen said. “But I’m very impressed by what I see.”

Yesss! Max mentally punched his fist into the air. Kaylee hadn’t blown it for him after all.

They’d almost made it to the reception area when the door to Jane’s office burst open and she flew out, a panicked look on her face.

“Max! Max, have you seen Kaylee?” she yelled, looking a bit deranged.

He turned, so she could see Kaylee was safe and sound. “Shhh. She’s right here.”

“Oh, thank God.” Jane rushed toward them. “I am so sorry. Last time I checked, she was napping on the pallet I made up for her, and then I looked over and she was gone-”

“Jane, it’s okay.”

“I hope she didn’t ruin your meeting.”

“On the contrary,” Ellen said with a smile, “she was a welcome distraction from all the facts and figures. And it’s so refreshing to see a man so comfortable with children.”

Jane didn’t bother to hide the surprised look on her face, but at least she didn’t contradict the client.

“I’m Ellen Lowenstein.” She held out her hand to Jane, who shook it, recovering her composure.

“It’s so nice to meet you. I love your clothes. I mean, the clothes you design. Well, of course, I like your clothes, too. That’s a lovely suit.”

Max shot Jane a strong look, hoping she would just close her mouth. She was blathering.

“Thank you,” Ellen said as Ogden stood mutely by her side, arms folded, not smiling. “Has Kaylee done much modeling?”

“Modeling?” Jane looked confused for a moment, but then she got it. “Oh, you saw the drawings. No, I did those drawings from some snapshots, nothing professional.”

“So you’re the artist. It’s doubly nice to meet you.”

“Thanks.”

Ogden pointedly looked at his watch. “We do have another appointment this afternoon.”

“Right.” Ellen smiled at the man. “Ogden keeps me on schedule. Well, you’ll be hearing from us.”

Max handed off Kaylee to Jane and walked his maybe-clients to the door.

“Do you like baseball?” Ellen asked suddenly.

“Yeah, sure,” Max responded. “Although I have to confess, I’m still a Mets fan.”

“We have a box at the Minute Maid Park. Perhaps you’d like to be our guests next week at an Astros game. With your wife and little girl, of course.”

What? Ellen thought Kaylee was his daughter, and Jane his wife? He knew what he should do. He should immediately correct her misconception. But what came out of his mouth was,

“Sounds wonderful. We’d love to.”

JANE JOGGED BACK to her office and gently placed Kaylee back on her pallet. The child didn’t wake up. She’d had a miserable night last night, and consequently Jane had, too. They were both in desperate need of sleep.

Apparently, though, the antibiotics had finally kicked in. Jane only wished that when Kaylee had awakened, she hadn’t wandered into the last place she ought to be.

Max was going to fire Jane. What choice did he have? She had promised to keep an eye on Kaylee and make sure she didn’t bother Max, and Jane had broken that promise. Now the most important meeting in the Remington Agency’s history had been compromised.

Jane headed back out of her office, stopped, returned to her desk, opened the bottom drawer and pulled her Klean-Up towelettes out of her purse. Then she scurried to the reception room, where Max and Carol were engaged in a spirited discussion.

“You are in so much trouble,” Carol was saying.

Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.

“I couldn’t help it. I got carried away in the moment. She liked me and I didn’t want to burst her bubble.”

“How are you going to explain this to Jane?” Carol asked.

“Shh. I’ll think of something.”

He’d already hired someone to replace her. That must be what they were talking about.

She burst into the reception area. “Max, I am so sorry.” She tore open the foil packet. “I was focusing on the new ad, and I guess Kaylee woke up and crept out of the office without me seeing her.”

She pulled the moist towelette from the packet and began attacking the drool stain on Max’s chest. He wore a beautiful shirt with a pale olive pinstripe. It probably cost a month’s salary-her salary, anyway.

Max jumped back. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of that stain before it sets.” Maybe she shouldn’t have touched him without asking, but with a three-year-old around all the time she was used to jumping on stains, whether they were on her, Kaylee or someone else. “These little cloths are pretreated with stain remover. They work really well, even on oil and crayon. Spit should be no problem.”

“Except this is a silk-blend shirt.”

Oops.

He held out his hand. “Here, let me see it. I guess it couldn’t get any worse.” He took the towelette from her and scrubbed at the already damp spot on his chest.

“It’ll look better when it dries.” Well, duh.

She was normally a composed woman. Even in divorce court she hadn’t lost it. Everything she’d said had been cool and confident. But around Max, she was a blithering idiot. Those people from Kidz’n’Stuff probably thought he hired mentally challenged employees.

“Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s just a shirt.”

“No, I mean, about Kaylee interrupting your important meeting. What did she do?”

“She just wandered in. I picked her up and put her in my lap and kept going like it was an everyday