The Father of Her Son. Kathleen Pickering
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the look for, Steve?”
“Only a woman could keep you from your desk tomorrow.”
Evan grinned. “Well, it is. And, she’s in Neverland and I don’t want to show up and give her a chance to back out.”
Steve slapped the door frame. “Well, I’ll be damned. So you groveled and she said yes.”
“You betchya, and proud of it.”
“Okay, then, how about lunch at Tao?”
Evan powered down his computer, leaving it in lock mode. He didn’t like to admit he couldn’t trust colleagues not to rifle through his files, but when it came to the ambitions of Dean Porter, anything could happen. He looked at his friend and decided, once again, against airing his concerns. Steve looked relaxed today. NCTV was running smoothly and up for an Emmy. No reason to throw darts at a balloon.
“On second thought, let’s go to Neverland. Tao is uptown and I don’t have much time. Kelly won’t dare mess with our plans with you at the counter.”
Steve chuckled. “That’s my man. I’d hate to miss Jake’s good cooking.”
* * *
THERE WERE ALWAYS new customers in Neverland. That was what made Manhattan so exciting. But Kelly didn’t like the way this particular man watched her while he ate Jake’s special corned beef sandwich.
Not that he looked dangerous. Gray suit, navy tie, blue button-down shirt. Well groomed, indeed, but there was something predatory in his smile, which he flashed every time she glanced his way. Better to get it over with and confront the man. She preferred handling clowns like this head-on, rather than finding them lurking around later.
She pointed to his empty glass. “Would you like another New Castle?”
“Sure.” He pushed his glass forward as she pulled another beer from the icebox.
She poured. “Everything fine with your meal?”
“Everything, except a few answers.”
She frowned, fully expecting a come-on. “What questions?”
He pulled a business card from his pocket. “I’m Jay Doyle. I report for the New York Sentinel.”
The gossip rag of the city. Good Lord, had someone spoken badly of Neverland? She offered him her most winning smile. “Lovely. What can I do for you?”
“Well, it’s a long story, but I was chatting with a former administrative assistant to the senate’s newest presidential candidate and your name came up.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Well, here we go. The devil himself was sitting at her counter with a smile thinking he’d lay a snare. Wouldn’t happen on her watch.
Her body relaxed into war mode. “And who, pray tell, would that senator be?”
Doyle pointed to the TV screen above the counter. “Buzz Campbell. I’m sure you heard him throw his hat into the ring during Evan McKenna’s show on Monday.”
She frowned. “Missed the show, but heard the news. Are you taking a poll or something?”
He was watching her like a hawk. “Of sorts.”
She’d handled morons like him before. She just didn’t have to bite his bait. “Mr. Doyle, I don’t understand.”
Doyle laid a hand on the counter, palm down as if planting a root into her world. The action repulsed her. She didn’t like this man, at all.
“Well, Ms. Sullivan, it seems this ex-assistant has an ax to grind. Something about sexual harassment.”
Years of practice kept the jolt to her gut from showing on her face. “That’s unfortunate. I can promise you I do not sexually harass my employees.”
He chuckled. “No, but when chatting, this assistant mentioned that the senator had a nanny that abruptly left his employ.”
Okay. So he knew. She’d clean up this mess fast. No more dodging questions.
She shared a conspiratorial glance with him. “And, you learned that I was that nanny.”
He seemed surprised by her honesty. “Well, yes.”
She shook her head as if to say she’d never understand busybodies. She added an extra lilt to her question. “So, Mr. Doyle, at the risk of being rude, why would this be any business of yours?”
He pressed a finger to his lips before speaking. “My contact was given the tedious chore of screening candidates to replace you when you quit on such short notice. Mrs. Campbell had seemed bewildered when you left—she’d thought you were quite content with your job. This assistant suggested that perhaps you’d had a run-in with the senator.”
A customer motioned for more coffee at the end of the counter. She released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
Kelly’s heart pounded double-time. To regain her calm, she refreshed several coffee mugs, delivered a check and several plates before returning to the reporter. Luckily, Matt was on a playdate and was out of sight. Thank heaven for small favors. This guy was pretty sharp, but so far all he had presented to her were suppositions. One glance at Matt and there would be no question. No one ever considered the possibility before today because no one in her present life knew of her connection to Buzz Campbell. Doyle, however, had targeted the guilty party. If he saw Matt she’d have the war of a lifetime on her hands.
She returned to the reporter as he downed the last of his Newcastle. “So, Mr. Doyle, as you can see, it’s lunch hour.”
He lifted a hand. “That apple pie looks excellent. I’ll have a slice, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Would you like a dollop of ice cream or whipped cream?”
“Both. And a coffee. Black.”
She was tempted to have one of the other waitresses finish serving him, but avoiding him would only encourage the man to persist in his questioning—or worse, return at another time. The fact that he was staying for dessert proved he thought he’d sniffed out a lead. She glanced at Bunny and saw from her friend’s expression that she had already assessed the guy as trouble. Kelly shot her a quick grin that confirmed it. As much as her insides quaked, she’d handle this clown and slide him out the door faster than grease off a skillet.
She poured his coffee and watched him shovel a forkful of pie into his mouth. The look on his face as he savored the sweet was priceless. She couldn’t help herself. She reached for the ever-present Nikon and snapped a few shots of Jay Doyle enjoying her favorite pie with a goodly amount of whipped cream in the corner of his mouth.
“Hey, what are you doing?” He wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Kelly gestured to the wall covered in photos. “Well, Mr. Doyle. When I spy a customer who is particularly enjoying my food, his or her picture becomes part of Neverland’s Wall of Fame.”
He grinned. “Nice. I’d like that. I’ll bring my wife back to show her.”
“You do that, Mr. Doyle. So, let’s finish with your questions before I get distracted again. As I said, it’s busy in here.”
“Sure. Sure.” He spooned that last bit of pie into his mouth. “Amazing, this pie,” he said as he chewed. “So, it seems this assistant doesn’t think she is the only one with a gripe against Buzz Campbell.”
Kelly stood with arms crossed. “Is she charging him with harassment?”
“More like sexual assault. She had to fight him off. Only, she’s concerned that Campbell’s attorneys would pound her into the ground if she accuses him alone. If more women step forward, the charges will have more power.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“My informant knows