Seven #2
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ve enjoyed hangin’ with them. Maybe they could get something to eat? I don’t know what time their bed—”
“It’s going to be a late night,” he told me, looking back at his daughter. “And they’re stuck here anyway, and I don’t want to put them to bed, only to have to wake them when their mother finally arrives.”
I waited because I could tell there was more.
“Rebecca is usually really shy and—” He cleared his throat before saying, “She’s usually shy.”
“Baby?”
We all turned to look at the model-perfect, stunning, raven-haired, blue-eyed man standing there, looking down at us.
“Honey, Tim and Monica are here. Come say hello.”
David looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be right there.”
“But,” he said, trying to smile, “they just got here, and they don’t know any—”
“What did I say?” he asked flatly, his voice icy.
The man nodded, his eyes flicking to me. “Okay, I’ll go get them, and then I can make Becca the hat I prom—”
“Jory made me a swan.” She held it up so the man could see before turning her big anime eyes to her father. “You can go talk to Auntie Monica and Uncle Tim, Daddy. Jory will stay with us.”
David Fisher’s eyes moved from his daughter to me, to his son and then back to me. I turned from his penetrating gaze when my shoulder was tapped. I found Scott looking at me.
“Jory, can you play Tekken?”
“Yessir, I can.”
Scott held out the controller to me. “Can you do this part of the campaign? I can’t beat this guy.”
“Sure, lemme—”
“Could you sit over here?”
By him. He wanted me right next to him. It was very cute.
“Come over there by you?” I teased him. “Are ya sure?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Okay.”
Becca got up, and then I did, walking around the coffee table, and when I sat down, she climbed right back into my lap. Scott scooted close, his hand on my thigh as he looked at the screen.
“Do you wanna see Jamie?” she asked me.
“Ah, c’mon, Bec,” Scott grumbled. “Jory doesn’t wanna see your lame doll.”
“I do though,” I said, kissing the top of her head.
“I put her to sleep in Grandma’s bed.”
“Well, go wake her up,” I suggested.
Her face, the beaming smile I got, was something to see. She hopped off my lap and was gone seconds later.
“You know the doll’s not really alive,” Scott assured me.
“Yeah, buddy, I know,” I said just as seriously.
He brightened suddenly. “Do you wanna see one of my karate trophies? I let Grandma keep one here.”
“Absolutely,” I told him as I used Nina, one of the female characters in the game, to destroy the big guy he’d been trying to kill for an hour before he gave up earlier in the night.
“That was so fast.” He was in awe; his eyes were wide with it.
I waggled my eyebrows at him.
“You know all Nina’s moves?”
“Yep,” I teased him.
After a second, he shrugged, which was as close to respect, albeit grudging, that I was going to get.
“I’ll be right back, ’kay? Don’t leave,” he said, and then he, too, was gone.
I looked up at David Fisher. “Can I make them something to eat? Would that be okay?”
He pressed his lips together as he took a step closer.
“You’re thinking poorly of me, but I assure you that I’m not the father you think I am.
I expected my ex-wife three hours ago. She’s not normally late.
I don’t usually have my kids during the week, but it’s my mother’s birthday, and Derek is not—”
“I don’t think anything,” I apprised him, speaking softly. “I swear. Just wanna feed the kids if that’s cool.”
His sigh, coupled with the resigned smile, was endearing. “It’s fine, but I just want you to know there are easily five to ten odd circumstances about this night that have created what you’re seeing here.”
“Okay.”
“I just …” He inhaled deeply. “I don’t like my kids around my dates until—”
“You’re serious, so they don’t get attached.”
“Correct.”
“I’ve dated men with children in the past. I get it.”
We just stared at each other as the kids flew back into the room.
“Jory, look at Jamie.”
The doll was one of those creepy ones with the eyes that opened and closed. She looked like she belonged in a Hitchcock movie. The karate trophy was easier to be excited about, and I realized what had taken so long was that Scott had changed into his gi, proudly showing off his yellow belt.
I watched as he demonstrated his moves and then clapped hard when he was done, doing the special bow his sensei had taught him. I even whistled.
“You carry that thing with ya wherever you go?” I gestured at the gi. “So you can change into it like Spider-Man?”
“I had practice today after school.”
I shrugged. “Would’ve been cooler if you’d just gone with it.”
He nodded coolly.
“I’m hungry,” Becca said again.
I looked up at David. “You said it was okay if I fed them, right?”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do—”
“I don’t mind,” I assured him, “if it’s fine with you.”
“It’s fine with me, but we have a whole buffet out there to—”
“It’s gross.” Scott made retching noises for me, just in case I missed the disgust in his voice.
Becca took my hand and led me forward, chattering on about Jamie and how they had gone horseback riding the day before. Scott was doing his lunges beside us, breathing out sharply, making the hiya sound the whole way.
The kitchen was almost bigger than my last apartment. You could play dodgeball in it.
“I want eggs,” Becca whined. “Please, Jory.”
“I want macaroni,” Scott told me between punching his fists in the air.
I made both because it was easy. Becca got scrambled eggs with grated cheese on top, with a pork chop I’d found and a side of peeled apples.
I made macaroni and cheese from scratch for Scott, accompanied by another pork chop and the same apples.
He had no idea that mac and cheese could be made on the stove and not in a microwave.
“My grandmother made it like this,” I told him.
He was leery, but it smelled good, so he tried it. As I was washing the dishes, Becca told me that her daddy let them ride in the long hallway. I had no idea what she meant until Scott explained it to me.
Becca had a tricycle, Scott had a scooter, and I got his skateboard. Riding a bike came right back the second you climbed on, and lucky for me, so did gliding over marble on a skateboard.
Becca’s squeals of delight were the best thing I had heard in weeks.
Scott’s laughter was loud, and when I did the spin for him on the back wheels, the way he looked at me—eyes wide and dancing, like I was Tony Hawk—made me smile.
What had started as speculative became friendly.
He liked me. But I liked him back, and he could probably tell.
We were taking a break, finishing the cleanup in the kitchen, when there was a shriek of joy from Becca.
“Mommy!”
I turned in time to see a very elegant-looking woman, wrapped in a long cashmere overcoat, crossing the room toward us.
“I see you have helpers.” She smiled at me as David appeared in the doorway.
“Yes, ma’am, and very excellent ones, I might add.”
She nodded, taking in her son on my right, drying the dishes, her daughter on my left, sitting on the counter, drying the pans.
“What did they eat?”
Before I could explain, Scott ran down my culinary skills for her, explaining about the epiphany of cooking pasta instead of nuking it and how Becca had eaten apples.
“You hate apples,” she reminded her daughter.
“But Jory cut off the skin and let me put them in peanut butter.”
“He made pork chops like you fry bacon. Did you know you could do that?”
“I did,” she said with a sigh, her eyes all over me as she strode forward, her hand extended.
I rinsed off the soap, dried my hands on the dish towel, and took her offered hand.
“Elsa Fisher,” she said, smiling at me.
I smiled back. “Jory Harcourt.”
Her eyes locked on mine.
“I’m sorry there were no greens, but nothing on the buffet table was, in their opinion, edible, and my offer of salad did not go over at all. We settled on the apples.”
“Apples are better than I normally do, I assure you.”
I nodded.
“How do you know David?”
“I don’t. I know Hayes.”
She let out a long-drawn-out sigh as she decided right then and there that she liked me. “I look forward to seeing more of you, Jory.”
But I doubted she would.
“Wait … Harcourt?”
“Yep.” I grinned. “Dane Harcourt is my brother.”
Her eyes went round. “I met him at a charity auction two weeks ago. He was very gracious and generous to our cause.”
“And what is that?”
“I’m a docent at the children’s art museum.”
“That follows. Dane loves kids.”
“Does he have any of his own?”
“Not yet, but I suspect soon.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. “How wonderful for them.”
“Did you meet his wife, Aja?” I asked.
“No, he was alone.”
So, she had thought, just like I was sure a lot of women had, that him flying solo meant something when, in reality, it meant nothing. Aja didn’t like to have Dane go to functions alone, and the reverse was true as well, but it was necessary at times.
“You two look nothing alike.”
And that was because Dane Harcourt and I were not related by any blood at all.
I had worked for the man for five years, and somewhere along the way, I went from assistant to friend to the person he wanted to have for a brother.
He was an orphan, and so was I. So, when he had said that he didn’t want me to work for him anymore, but he did want me in his life forever and always, I had discarded my old last name and taken Harcourt.
“Except that you’re both just stunning.”
“Thank you,” I sighed, looping back into the conversation, reaching out to squeeze her arm so she never knew I had sort of checked out in the middle and run fast to catch up.
She patted my hand and then turned and told her kids that it was time to go.
I lifted Becca off the counter and went down on one knee so she could wrap her arms around me and kiss and hug me goodbye.
The head buried in the side of my neck let me know that we were pals.
Scott gave me a big hug I hadn’t expected, arms tight around my neck, and then both of them trailed after their mother out of the kitchen.