The Prince's Secret Baby. Christine Rimmer
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her. “Deliver the flowers and let’s break out the champagne.”
Calista loved the heart-shaped casserole. She laughed when she pulled it from the gift bag. “I guess now I’ll just have to learn how to cook.”
“Wait until after the honeymoon,” Sydney suggested and then proposed a toast. “To you, Calista. And to a long and happy marriage.”
After the two glasses of wine at lunch, Sydney allowed herself only a half glass of champagne during the shower. But the shortage of bubbly didn’t matter in the least. It was still the most fun Sydney had ever had at a bridal shower. Funny how meeting a wonderful man can put a whole different light on the day.
After the party, she returned to her office just long enough to grab her briefcase, her bag and one of the vases full of yellow roses. Yes, as a rule she would have stayed to bill a couple more hours, at least.
But hey. It was Friday. She wanted to see her little boy before he went to bed. And she really needed to talk to Lani, who was not only her dearest friend, but also Trevor’s live-in nanny. She needed Lani’s excellent advice as to whether she should go for it and take Rule up on his invitation to dinner.
At home in Highland Park, she found Trevor in the kitchen, sitting up at the breakfast nook table in his booster chair, eating his dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. “Mama home! Hug, hug!” he crowed, and held out his chubby arms.
She dropped her briefcase and bag, set the flowers on the counter and went to him. He wrapped those strong little arms around her neck, smearing spaghetti sauce on her cheek when he gave her a big smacker of a kiss. “How’s my boy?”
“I fine, thank you.”
“Me, too.” She hugged him harder. “Now that I’m home with you.” He smelled of tomatoes and meatballs and baby shampoo—of everything that mattered.
At two, he was quite the talker. As he picked up his spoon again, he launched into a description of his day. “We swim. We play trucks. I shout loud when we crash.”
“Sounds like fun.” She whipped a tissue from the box on the counter and wiped the red sauce off her cheek.
“Oh, yes! Fun, Mama. I happy.” He shoved a meatball in his mouth with one hand and waved his spoon with the other.
“Use your spoon for eating,” Lani said from over by the sink.
“Yes, Lani. I do!” He switched the spoon to the other hand and scooped up a mound of pasta. Most of it fell off before he got it to his mouth, but he only gamely scooped up some more.
“You’re early,” said Lani, turning to glance at her over the tops of her black-rimmed glasses. “And those roses are gorgeous.”
“They are, aren’t they? And as to being early, hey, it’s almost the weekend.”
“That never stopped you from working late before.” Lani grabbed a towel and turned to lean against the sink as she dried her hands.
Her full name was Yolanda Ynez Vasquez and she was small and curvy with acres of thick almost-black hair. She’d been working for Sydney for five years, starting as Sydney’s housekeeper. The plan was that Lani would cook and clean house and live in, thus saving money while she finished college. But then, even after she got her degree, she’d stayed on, and become Trevor’s nanny, as well. Sydney had no idea how she would have managed without her. Not only for her grace and ease at keeping house and being a second mom to Trevor, but also for her friendship. After Ellen O’Shea, Yolanda Vasquez was the best friend Sydney had ever had.
Lani said, “You’re glowing, Syd.”
Sydney put her hands to her cheeks. “I do feel slightly warm. Maybe I have a fever….”
“Or maybe someone handsome sent you yellow roses.”
Laughing, Sydney shook her head. “You are always one step ahead of me.”
“What’s his name?”
“Rule.”
“Hmm. Very … commanding.”
“And he is. But in such a smooth kind of way. I went to lunch with him. I really like him. He asked me to dinner.”
“Tonight?” Lani asked.
She nodded. “He invited me to meet him at the Mansion at Turtle Creek. Eight o’clock.”
“And you’re going.” It wasn’t a question.
“If you’ll hold down the fort?”
“No problem.”
“What about Michael?” Michael Cort was a software architect. Lani had been seeing him on a steady basis for the past year.
Lani shrugged. “You know Michael. He likes to hang out. I’ll invite him over. We’ll get a pizza—tell me more about Rule.”
“I just met him today. Am I crazy?”
“A date with a guy who makes you glow? Nothing crazy about that.”
“Mama, sketti?” Trev held up a handful of crushed meatball and pasta.
“No, thank you, my darling.” Sydney bent and kissed his plump, gooey cheek again. “You can have that big wad of sketti all for yourself.”
“Yum!” He beamed up at her and her heart felt like it was overflowing. She had it all. A healthy, happy child, a terrific best friend, a very comfortable lifestyle, a job most high-powered types would kill for. And a date with the best-looking man on the planet.
Sydney spent the next hour being the mother she didn’t get to be as often as she would have liked. She played trucks with Trev. And then she gave him his bath and tucked him into bed herself, smoothing his dark hair off his handsome forehead, thinking that he was the most beautiful child she had ever seen. He was already asleep when she tiptoed from the room.
Yolanda looked up when she entered the family room. “It’s after seven. You better get a move on if you want to be on time for your dream man.”
“I know—keep me company while I get ready?”
Lani followed her into the master suite, where Sydney grabbed a quick shower and redid her makeup. In the walk-in closet, she stared at the possible choices and didn’t know which one to pick.
“This.” Lani took a simple cap-sleeved red satin sheath from the row of mostly conservative party dresses. “You are killer in red.”
“Red. Hmm,” Sydney waffled. “You think?”
“I know. Put it on. You only need your diamond studs with it. And that garnet-and-diamond bracelet your grandmother left you. And those red Jimmy Choos.”
Sydney took the dress. “You’re right.”
Lani dimpled. “I’m always right.”
Sydney put on the dress and the shoes and the diamond studs and garnet bracelet. Then she stood at the full-length mirror in her dressing area and scowled at herself. “I don’t know …” She touched her brown hair, which she’d swept up into a twist. “Should I take my hair down?”
“No. It’s great like that.” Lani tugged a few curls loose at her temples and her nape. Then she eased the wide neckline of the dress off her shoulders. “There. Perfect. You look so hot.”
“I am not the hot type.”
“Yeah, you are. You just don’t see yourself that way. You’re tall and slim and striking.”
“Striking. Right. Still, it would be nice if I had breasts, don’t you think? I had breasts once, remember? When I was pregnant with Trevor?”
“Stop. You have breasts.”
“Hah.”
“And you have green eyes to die for.”