Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After: Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texas Billionaire's Baby. Lois Dyer FayeЧитать онлайн книгу.
you sure you don’t mind having Annie sleep over for the weekend?” she asked Linda.
“I’m positive!”
With sudden, uncharacteristic impulsiveness, Jennifer nodded abruptly. “Then I’ll do it.”
“Yes.” Yolanda pumped her fist in the air and laughed.
Linda leaned closer. “Go tell him,” she prodded in a whisper. “Right now.” She caught Jennifer’s shoulders and turned her around, giving her a little nudge toward the booth where Chance sat, frowning down at his mug of coffee.
Jennifer took a deep breath. She could hear her coworkers whispering as she walked away from them and couldn’t suppress a smile. The three women were great friends and staunch supporters. She didn’t doubt they were sincere when they’d told her they expected a full report on the institute’s glamorous event—and every detail about her night out with the sexy doctor.
Chance looked up just as she reached his booth.
“If the invitation is still open, I’d love to go to the Founder’s Ball with you,” Jennifer said without preamble.
His mouth curved in a grin and Jennifer didn’t miss the male satisfaction and what she thought was a gleam of triumph in his dark eyes.
“It’s definitely still open.”
“Good.” She took her order pad and a pen from her pocket. “It’s this weekend, isn’t it? What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at eight on Saturday. I need your address,” he added.
“Right.” She nodded, scribbled her street and apartment number on the back of an order slip, tore if off the pad and handed it to him. The slow, intimate smile he gave her sent a shiver of heated apprehension spiraling up her spine and she felt her cheeks warm. “Well.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you Saturday.” She turned to walk away.
“Jennifer.” The seductive deep drawl stopped her and she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Thanks for saying yes.”
“You’re welcome.” She walked back to the counter, feeling his gaze between her shoulder blades like a caress. Fortunately, a customer stopped her and during their ensuing conversation, Chance paid his check and left the diner.
She wasn’t comfortable knowing she was always aware of him on some level, she thought with stark honesty. Her senses appeared to be sharply tuned to him whenever he was around her. She felt his presence and departure like a tangible force each time he entered or left the diner. Pretending to ignore him hadn’t solved the problem, nor had self lectures about the sheer stupidity of giving in to the attraction.
After her divorce, she’d vowed she wouldn’t subject her daughter to a series of men friends rotating through their lives. Jennifer had spent her childhood watching substitute fathers move in and out of her mother’s home after her parents’ divorce. When the third very nice man moved on and her mother quickly fell in love with a fourth, Jennifer had stopped viewing any of her mother’s boyfriends as permanent fixtures. Her mother was currently headed for divorce court for the sixth time.
Because Jennifer’s grandparents were affluent, socially prominent members of the community, she’d never wanted for the necessities of food, clothing, good schools and a lovely home. But her life felt lonely and emotionally insecure. Lunch at the country club with her grandmother and piles of exquisitely wrapped presents under the Christmas tree didn’t compensate for the lack of security under her mother’s roof.
She’d married young while still in college and dreamed of a life filled with home and family. With stars in her eyes, she’d quit college to take a full-time job to support her husband, Patrick, a pre-med student. Six months after the wedding, she’d been devastated when Patrick was furious the night she told him she was pregnant. He’d accused her of lying about taking birth control pills and he moved out of their apartment within a week, immediately filing for divorce. He’d told her he needed a working wife whose first commitment was to him and he had no room in his life for a child. He’d even agreed to give her full custody and let her raise their baby alone since he had no interest in visitation rights. In return, she agreed not to request child support payments from him.
When he told their mutual friends that the divorce was Jennifer’s choice, they reacted by ostracizing her and Jennifer was devastated. Much as she hated the snubs and vicious whisperings behind her back, however, she refused to be drawn into a mud-slinging match.
The divorce was final when Jennifer was six months pregnant. Three months later, she gave birth to Annie, a beautiful six-and-a-half-pound, red-haired baby girl with big blue eyes.
In the five years since Annie’s birth, Jennifer had kept her vow to create a better life for her daughter than the one she’d known. She went to work, attended night classes to finish her college degree, and spent her free time with her little girl. Men occasionally asked her out but she turned them down without a single regret. If celibacy and a solo adult life was the cost of giving Annie a secure, quiet life then it was a small price to pay.
Jennifer knew her friends were convinced she needed an adult social life, including a man to share her bed. But she was committed to keeping her vow to not repeat her mother’s mistakes. She swore her friends to silence, and they all promised not to tell any interested men about Annie or other details of her life. Fortunately, she hadn’t met anyone that stirred more than mild interest and she’d certainly never considered sleeping with anyone—until Chance walked into the diner and smiled at her.
Since then, her sleep had been haunted by vivid dreams of making love with him.
Perhaps going out with him will get him out of my system, she thought.
Finishing her shift at two o’clock that afternoon, Jennifer hurried home to collect her daughter from the babysitter. She chatted for a few moments with the spry seventy-eight-year-old Margaret Sullivan, before she and Annie said goodbye and headed across the hall to their own apartment. On the day they’d moved in, Margaret had knocked on their door with a plate of warm cookies and a welcoming smile. When Jennifer’s babysitter moved away, Margaret volunteered to have Annie stay with her while Jennifer worked or attended classes and the three had formed a close, familylike relationship.
“How was school today, Annie?” Jennifer asked when they were home in their own small kitchen. She filled the kettle at the sink and set it on the stove, switching on the burner.
“Fine,” Annie replied as she carefully took three small plates from the lower cabinet next to the sink. “Me and Melinda are working on a project.”
“Really? What kind of project?” Jennifer took two mugs from the cupboard. At the small corner table, Annie was carefully arranging four peanut butter cookies on one of the plates.
“We’re building a miniature house with a kennel for our dogs.” Annie shifted one of the cookies a bit to the left, eyed the plate critically, then nodded with approval. She looked up at Jennifer, her blue eyes glowing with fervor. “We’re practicing for when we get our real dogs.”
“I see.” Jennifer caught her daughter in a quick hug, pressing a kiss against the silky red-gold curls. The teakettle whistled a warning and she released Annie to turn off the burner. Pouring hot water into the mugs, she dropped an English Breakfast tea bag into hers and stirred hot chocolate mix into Annie’s, then carried them over to the table. The little girl perched on a chair, legs swinging with enthusiasm. “You know, honey,” Jennifer began, “it’s going to be a while before we can have a dog.” She set the gently steaming mug of chocolate in front of Annie and took the chair opposite.
“I know.” Annie gave her mother a serene smile and stirred her drink with single-minded concentration.
“Not that I wouldn’t like to have a dog, too,” Jennifer continued. “But the landlord won’t let us have pets in the apartment.”