A Baby for Dry Creek and A Dry Creek Christmas. Janet Tronstad
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the delivery car to drive home. Take as much time as you need.” Pete rubbed his hands over his head. “I’ve never been able to offer the best salaries in the business, but I’ve always tried to be flexible.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’ve always looked at the staff as family, which is why it’s so hard to—”
Chrissy wanted to put her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear what was coming next. “But business has been good.”
“Business has never been better,” Pete agreed. “And your idea with the salt substitute is one of the reasons.”
Chrissy decided she didn’t need her hands over her ears after all. Maybe the reason Pete had called her into his office was to thank her for the suggestion.
“It was a simple idea,” Chrissy said.
Pete nodded. “But it has made all the difference. That’s why I wanted you to be the first to know the news.”
Chrissy felt a sudden unease. A thank-you would be nice, but it wasn’t actually news. “Are we changing the menu again?”
Pete chuckled. “I don’t think I’d live long enough to do that even if I weren’t moving to Arizona.”
“What?”
Pete winced. “I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that. I never was any good at things like this. Actually, I wanted to thank you. The extra business we have because of the salt substitute must be what finally made the diner look attractive enough to find a buyer. A real estate agent called me last week.”
“I see.”
“The offer is just too good to turn down.”
“Will the new owner keep the place a diner?”
“They’re thinking along the lines of a tea shop. Crumpets. Scones. That kind of thing.”
“I see.”
“They’ve promised they’ll have a job for every one of my staff. I wouldn’t sell otherwise.”
Chrissy started to breathe again. She’d already lost two waitress jobs because business was bad; she didn’t want to lose another because business was good. “Do the others know?”
“I’m going to tell them when the shift changes at three this afternoon. That way, everyone will be here.”
Chrissy heard a bell in the kitchen. “That must be my last order. I better get out there.”
Pete nodded.
For the next hour Chrissy was too busy with hamburgers and chicken strips to worry. And then she got a second call from Mrs. Velarde.
“I’ve got to go,” she said to Pete as she walked to the door of the diner.
He nodded and tossed her a set of keys. “Take the delivery car.”
Reno decided everything he had ever heard about crime in Los Angeles was true. Here he was in broad daylight, parked in a residential area, and it sounded as if a dozen police sirens were all going off at once. It had been enough to wake him up from his nap, and he was tired enough to sleep through an earthquake.
Tonight he’d check in to a hotel by the ocean and get a good night’s sleep before he left to go back. He’d pulled into Los Angeles early this morning and had gone directly to the office of Joseph Price, Esquire. Reno didn’t know why he’d decided to visit the lawyer. Maybe he just wanted to be sure Chrissy hadn’t already accepted the offer before he went to the trouble of trying to find her with the address he had.
He hadn’t been in the lawyer’s office five minutes before Reno regretted stopping. Chrissy was no match for the man, and Reno would have been happier not knowing that fact.
Reno’s distrust of the man only deepened when the lawyer talked about the educational opportunities Mrs. Bard was hoping to give Chrissy’s baby.
“She’s prepared to pay the costs for a private education, from military boarding school to graduate school at Princeton or Yale—she’s even got her eye on some kind of exclusive kindergarten for the gifted in Boston,” the attorney said as he offered Reno coffee in a china cup.
“No, thanks,” Reno said. “I thought Mrs. Bard lived in Los Angeles. Is she moving to Boston?”
“She doesn’t need to move to Boston.” The attorney set the cup of coffee on his own desk. “Fortunately, the school is a live-in situation. Twenty-four-hour care and mental stimulation. The baby will grow up to be a genius.”
Reno grunted. “Even a genius needs a home.”
The attorney took a sip of coffee. “The Bards own a house in San Marino and another in Vail. The boy won’t lack for a place to visit during his school breaks. And there’ll be adequate supervisory care.”
Reno didn’t like the sound of this. What kind of grandmother was this woman? “It takes more than a house to make a home. Isn’t Mrs. Bard going to bake him cookies?”
The lawyer laughed. “Mrs. Bard doesn’t bake anything. She’s a very busy woman.”
“Too busy for a little boy?”
“Don’t worry. Mrs. Bard is hoping to make the boy her heir. That should tell you how she feels. Her only concern is that the baby is Jared’s son. That’s why she hired our firm. She’s paying us a handsome bonus if the baby is Jared’s son, so of course, we’re hoping it is.”
The lawyer started to lift the cup again.
“How much of a bonus?” Reno asked.
The attorney stopped with his cup halfway up in the air and looked at Reno. “You certainly ask a lot of questions. Why are you so worried about this baby, if you’ve never even seen him?”
Reno smiled slightly. He could see the lawyer was beginning to think that Reno might really be the father of Chrissy’s baby. It was the first time in the conversation that the question had even seemed to arise. “Let’s just say I want to make sure everyone is happy.”
The lawyer studied the cup he held in his hand. “I see. Well, I can assure you Mrs. Bard will want to share her happiness with everyone if we prove to her the baby is Jared’s son. So if she’s happy, we’re happy. Of course—” he paused “—if someone else had reason to believe he could be the baby’s father, we would want to make him happy, too.”
“You’d pay me off?”
The lawyer shrugged. “I didn’t say that, now, did I? I’m just pointing out that there’s no way to really prove who the father is without a blood test, and Miss Hamilton refuses to agree to that. I’m afraid Chrissy is both stubborn and foolish. She refused to list Jared on the birth certificate or even to say he’s the father, so she can’t press for child support. At her age, with only a high school education, she’ll never be able to support the baby herself, not working as a waitress like she does.”
“But—” Reno started to protest.
The lawyer waved his hand. “Oh, I have to admit she’s a gutsy young woman. She bounced back real fast when she lost her last two jobs. But how much longer can she move from job to job? It might be okay now that she’s living in her mother’s house, but how long will that last? She won’t find a decent place to rent in Los Angeles on her salary. And that’s just now. She’ll certainly never be able to afford private schools and college. We’re really doing her a favor to help her recognize that the baby is better off with Mrs. Bard. It’ll save Miss Hamilton years of hard work and heartache. Mrs. Bard is even willing to pay her enough so that she can go to college herself and make something of her life.”
“She has made something of her life.” Reno stood up to leave. “She has the baby to prove it.”
Reno left the lawyer’s office with a sour taste in his mouth