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“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 of other women in Campbell’s wake with the same complaint. We were wondering if you were swept into his net, as well.”
Doyle’s gaze was drilling right through her.
She lowered her voice, grateful that the immediate seats surrounding Doyle at the counter had been vacated. “So you want to know if I was assaulted by the senator. Is that correct?”
“It’s the reason I am here, but now that I’ve had your food, I’ll come back for sure.”
“I have another question for you.”
He drained his coffee mug as if they chatted about the weather. His nonchalance was not lost on Kelly. Actually, it made her blood steam that this man could so blithely discuss female degradation while obviously enjoying his meal.
He placed the cup on the counter as if he’d take a refill. Kelly ignored the gesture.
He asked, “What’s your question?”
Instead of pouring, she placed the coffeepot she was holding on the counter between them. “Did Campbell’s assistant approach you or did you approach her?”
“Does it matter?”
Kelly let a grin play across her lips. “Motive means everything to me, Mr. Doyle. I’m simply wondering if you really care about this woman’s story or if you’ve been tapped to do a witch hunt by Campbell’s opposing party.”
The man looked decidedly uncomfortable.
When he didn’t answer, she knew. Politics could be such a dirty business. A rising star under attack by his opponents certainly seemed to be the American model during election years. Only this time, Buzz Campbell’s enemies were right on target. The knowledge that Campbell had taken liberties with other women seeped like acid between her ribs, burning her lungs and making her want to cry, all over again. Under any other circumstance, Kelly would have led the cause against the senator—in a heartbeat. Only, now she had a son to protect. Her own shame and/or vindication no longer mattered. Matt’s anonymity did. God forbid Campbell learned he’d fathered a son. From the three years she spent caring for his daughters, Kelly knew he’d always wanted a boy. The thought made her want to vomit. Having to battle Buzz Campbell for custody of a child born from his assault would ruin Kelly.
She hated to use the word rape. The sound alone slashed her soul like a razor. She’d made a life—a good life—despite the horror of that night and found love for her child like she’d never known. Nothing. Absolutely nothing would destroy the safe and secret world she and Herby, bless his unknowing soul, had created to protect her and Matt from this very moment.
Kelly leaned forward, offering her most conspiratorial voice. “I will tell you how it goes, Mr. Doyle, but please do not repeat it, as my actions are most embarrassing to me. Yes, I was that nanny. Lovely family. Beautiful children, Emily and Mary Kate. But it didn’t take me long to realize that I had chosen the wrong career. Caring for someone else’s children out in the wilds of Long Island with nary a friend or foe to confide in was more than I could handle. I was desperately lonely. So, I quit. Unfortunately, I left without notice. My actions were not professional. I’m not proud of the fact. For that reason, I prefer that my past ties to the Campbells remain confidential. Can you understand that?”
“You’re saying Campbell’s kids were difficult, spoiled brats?”
It was easy to become insulted at that remark. Kelly had loved those two young girls like her own. She had developed an affection for their mother, as well. Indignation laced her words. “Absolutely not, Mr. Doyle. You must not have heard me say that they were lovely children.”
She leaned closer, tapping her finger on the granite inches from his hand to emphasize her point. “It’s important that you understand me very clearly, Mr. Doyle. Given my abrupt departure from the children in my care, it would be nothing but an embarrassment for me. An embarrassment which if advertised could harm my business. I can only hope that after almost seven years, the Campbells hold no complaint against me. If you’re looking for a witch hunt, you’ve come to the wrong place. I have nothing to offer you. You’ll have to look elsewhere for a victim.”
She had moved so close to him in order to tell her story only to him that he looked as if he had gotten lost in her eyes. For once in a very long time, she was glad for her charm.
“Um...I understand. But why would this assistant name you as one of the senator’s targets?”
“Given the time you are citing, I assume you are referring to Helen Thompson.” When he didn’t answer, Kelly shrugged. “We knew each other. She’d been to the house several times. I remember she was very loyal to Mr. Campbell. If he did indeed assault her, I can only imagine she’s feeling betrayed as well as violated. I can understand why she would look for collaboration to support her accusation. I’m sorry, Mr. Doyle. I can’t help her or you in this inquiry. But I would appreciate it if you remained discreet about my ties to the Campbells. Now that I understand how devastated I had left Mrs. Campbell, I’d hate to be held accountable for my immaturity. Would you like more coffee?”
That seemed to finish the interview. Knees quaking, Kelly paid little more attention other than a friendly wave as Jay Doyle paid his bill and exited Neverland. She cleared tables, using all her strength to keep her hands from trembling while sending a silent prayer skyward. Holy Saint Michael, she prayed that was the last she’d see of the Sentinel reporter.
Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. It was bad enough he had been seated in Evan’s favorite stool at the counter. It seemed like a violation of sacred space. Worse, Doyle had hit the truth from which she had carefully erased all connection for so long. She had performed a most uncomfortable two-step to make that man go away but she’d managed. And not one word had been false. Now that he was gone, the urge to throw up what remained of breakfast had her choking back bile.
She filled a glass with cola and sipped slowly to get her wits about her. A turbine of disquiet buzzed in her head. There was no one to whom she could confide her distress, which was rapidly growing into terror that this man would return. She took a moment to absorb the activity and sounds in Neverland. The hum of conversations. Clanking plates and the sizzling grill. The smell of coffee. The ever-present newscasters of NCTV on the screen. The patrons and workers who had become her friends. The city bustling past the windows outside the diner. She released a sigh. Neverland was reality now. The sludge Jay Doyle was trying to unearth was the past. A difficult lesson learned, but most certainly history. All was well in Neverland. Nothing else mattered.
She looked up to see Evan entering the diner with his boss, his gaze seeking her out. With a single glance at her, concern rose in Evan’s eyes. Damn her nerves. He’d read her distress before she had a chance to hide it.
CHAPTER FOUR
STEVE FIORE RUBBED his hands together. “Smells like Friday in here, Kelly. How about serving us up two of Jake’s specials?”
Steve’s eagerness and his genuinely affable nature helped Kelly shake away her dread. Besides, she’d handled Jay Doyle. There was no need to give his interrogation any further attention. The smile that creased her mouth drained her tension.
“Nothing would please me more, Steve.” She gestured to the stool next to Evan’s—which he now occupied, his gaze still on her. “Care to sit next to our star patron? I must warn you, he’ll chatter your ear to bending.”
Evan shook his head. “A man does not chatter, Red. We discuss matters.”
Steve was studying Evan’s name stenciled on the floor beneath the stool. He gestured to the floor below his own seat. “Where’s mine?”
She laughed. “You need your own TV show and must eat here every day to earn that honor.”
Steve looked baffled. “But, Evan wouldn’t have his own show if it wasn’t for me.”
Kelly slapped the counter. “Of course. You’re right. If you are happy with that perch, I’ll stencil your name there tonight.”
Satisfied, Steve sat. “I’ll get a gold star, as well?”
“Sure, Steve, but you’ll have to earn your place on the Wall of Fame.”
Steve glanced at the wall holding the fifty or more photos of patrons, all smiling with a mouthful of food. “McKenna isn’t up there yet.”
“I will be soon,” Evan chimed in. “Had my photo op just a few days ago.”
Kelly wagged a finger at Evan. “But, you’ve been absent all week. That photo may have to wait.”
“Didn’t want to give you a chance to break our date.”
Before she could declare that they were not having a date, two patrons came up for Evan’s autograph, killing the opportunity. At least Steve noticed her consternation. Kelly turned to Jake, who signaled that he had already spotted Evan and Steve’s arrival and was preparing their specials.
Moments later, Matt burst through the diner doors like a miniature whirlwind with Jared and his mom, Donna, hot on his heels.
“Mom! We saw the Tyrannosaurus bones at the museum again. I think he got bigger... Evan!”
Matt had been heading for her until he spotted Evan. He and Matt exchanged their knuckle handshake while she invited Jared and Donna to take a booth near the window. She settled them in, catching up on their adventure at the Museum of Natural History until Matt scooted into the booth next to Jared.
“Mom, Evan says we’re having birthday dinner tomorrow at his penthouse.”
Donna raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Way to score, Kelly.”
Kelly scoffed. “Not what you’re thinking, Donna. Please don’t start any rumors.”
Donna gave the TV show host, now deep in conversation with his boss, an appraising glance. “Evan McKenna would be a rumor worth making, my dear.”
Kelly met her friend’s conspiratorial gaze. The last thing she wanted was uninvited attention over a television personality. “Now, that’s enough. Lunch is on me for entertaining Matt this morning.”
* * *
THE RISING MOUND of clothes littering her bed betrayed Kelly’s angst over tonight’s dinner with Evan. Something about trespassing into the McKenna inner sanctum sent tendrils of disquiet through her gut—a disquiet she was rapidly translating into a conviction that she had made a mistake. She’d been avoiding Evan for so long that agreeing to see him outside of Neverland seemed like surrender. Despite the fact that she had a son, her experience with men was nonexistent! Her apprehension was turning her stomach into knots.
Matt felt it, too. Despite a birthday party at the diner earlier today, then a romp through FAO Schwartz for Nerf guns, followed by several hours in Central Park playing Nerf gun tag, Matt was practically bouncing off the walls asking her when they were going to leave, as if he was sure she’d change her mind any minute and refuse to go.
She finally reached for her first choice, a soft green Indian tunic dress with an embroidered hem that stopped an inch too high above her knees. She looped a tan leather belt low on her hips and slipped into a pair of matching strappy sandals. She let her hair cascade onto her shoulders, slid silver hoop earrings into each ear, a cuff of bangles on her wrist, and finished her look with a spray of her favorite Christian Dior perfume—one luxury in which she dared to indulge.
Ignoring the pile of clothes on her bed, she dashed from the room before giving herself a chance to change her mind. “Matt, are you ready?”
He looked up from his latest Lego construction. “Wow, Mom. You look pretty.”
The admiration in his young eyes squeezed her heart. “Well, it’s your birthday. That’s a great reason to dress up.”
He jumped from the couch. “Let’s go. I hope Evan made an ice-cream cake!”
She reached for her purse and keys, her heart sinking. “Uh-oh. I forgot to tell Evan.”
His grin was priceless. “Don’t worry, Mom. I told him.”
* * *
SHE HARDLY NOTICED the taxi ride to the Upper West Side. Matt was full of questions and it wasn’t until she chided him that he had to be on his best behavior in Evan’s home that he settled down to a round on his game player. As the doorman opened the door to the taxi, she was glad, once again, that she had refused Evan’s offer to pick them up. She wanted this evening to be as little like a date as possible.
Matt bolted into the apartment lobby and ran to the elevators. “This place is cool, Mom! Which button do I press?”
“Elevator B.”
When the light illuminated, she resisted the urge to hightail it right back out the door. This was crazy. A wave of heat suffused her body, making her palms feel damp. Going to Evan’s place was sheer insanity. It didn’t help that Bunny had sent her out the door this afternoon with admonitions like, “Take no prisoners,” echoing in her wake.
She couldn’t believe how awkward she felt—at her age! She was miles out of her league. During the years Evan had been away, she was sure he’d had his fill of women of every kind. She’d not had a single man. She’d never been courted, or wooed. But, tonight was NOT a date. It was a birthday dinner for Matt. Evan was their friend. And honestly, now that Grampy Herby was gone, Kelly was grateful for the male bonding Evan offered her son. It was why she was here in the first place. She would not lose sight of that singular fact.
The elevator doors swooshed open. “Come on, Mom! Which button now?”
Smiling to herself she said, “The one with the letters, PH.”
He pressed it and beamed up at her. “Penthouse. Evan is rich, right?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Jared told me.”
“Oh, and how does Jared know?”
“He heard his mom talking on her cell phone.”
“And, to whom was she telling this priceless information?”
Matt shrugged as if that was a really dumb question. “I don’t know, Mom.”
The elevator opened onto a black marble landing just outside Evan’s door. Creamy yellow Venetian plaster-colored walls were trimmed with wide white moldings. His door, a work in gorgeous carved mahogany stood sentinel guarding the man and his private world.
Kelly felt miles out of her comfort zone. Knowing that Evan lived in opulence like this by his own achievements humbled her to the core. She couldn’t help but think this accomplished and excruciatingly handsome man was toying with her and her son. She ran a diner and lived in the two-bedroom apartment above it. They didn’t belong here.
She was about to sweep Matt back into the elevator when the door opened. Evan stepped out followed by a waft of air, warm and redolent with the savory smell of garlic and Italian sauce. She looked at his grinning face feeling like the typical deer in headlights.
“Hi, Evan!” Matt scrambled past his host and into the apartment as if he had been given a free pass to an amusement park.
“Hi, Matt...”
Evan answered Matt as an afterthought because his eyes were glued to Kelly. He whistled softly. “You look amazing.”
A lightning-fast blush heated her cheeks, ruining her composure. She didn’t like the feeling at all. Not now. Not at hello. Not when he looked excellent in a white button-down rolled up at the elbows and a pair of faded denims that sat on his hips as if they were sculpted to his body. She waved away his compliment, wanting him to stop staring while also soaking in the good feeling. “Go on with you now, Evan. I don’t always wear sneakers and an apron.”
His grin deepened. “You’re blushing.”
“And you’re a blustering fool. Now, will you be inviting me in, or shall I leave Matt to you for the evening?”
* * *
EVAN STEPPED BACK, opening the door wider. No way in hell would he permit Kelly to retreat on him now. Not when she looked so hot in that belted green dress and smelled like dessert. And, Holy Mother of God, those legs!
He stepped back, opening the door wider. He grinned when he realized she was grazing his body with her eyes as if enjoying his look. When her eyes met his, her blush deepened.
“Come on in, Red. It won’t be a party without you.”
She followed his gesture and entered. The soft incense of her perfume shot straight to his groin. What was it about this woman that made her blast his senses like a furnace? The familiar scent didn’t have this effect on him in Neverland, where she was steeped in her own territory and surrounded with patrons and friends. She eased past him as if trying to avoid a sidewinder. He’d have to tread slowly and carefully to put her at ease.
“Don’t worry. I won’t bite. Promise.”
“Of course, you won’t.” The temperature rising up her neck betrayed how foolish she felt.
He tilted his head into her line of vision. “Kelly, I am honored that you and Matt are here. I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable. Please, feel welcome.”
She glanced into the apartment, where Matt seemed to have vanished. “I appreciate you saying that, Evan. Matt can use a male figure in his world.”
“I get that. I was an only child, too. My dad was a huge influence.”
She frowned. “You never told me you were an only child.”
“Really? How did we never get to that topic?”
She chuckled. “Because you always have your nose in my business.”
He gestured to the table beneath a huge framed mirror. “You can put your bag here if you’d like.”
He could sense that she was starting to calm when she lifted her face and inhaled. “I smell spaghetti sauce.”
“My boss’s family recipe. I’m hopeful this Irishman meets Steve’s Italian standards.”
“I’m sure Matt told you spaghetti is his favorite meal.”
“That and ice-cream cake. This newsman listens.” He tapped his ear to punctuate his promise.
Matt charged back toward them from somewhere in the open expanse, his face animated with delight. “Mom! Evan has a basketball hoop. Inside!”
Kelly appraised Evan’s home. He liked the way she smiled as she took in the mahogany entrance, the sprawling floors reflecting the same deep, polished timber as the door.
Her gaze rested on the huge, deep blue jewel-toned Oriental rug that delineated the living room. There were overstuffed caramel-colored couches, matching ottomans and inlaid antique tables with carved wooden elephants flanking the couches.
“Your home certainly is welcoming, Evan.”
He enjoyed his home. He’d taken pains to ensure that despite its modern decor, his home offered warmth and comfort—from the art-deco reading lights perched on each table to the “floating” mahogany wall unit that divided the living room from the open kitchen. The unit was stacked with books, unusual pottery and knickknacks from his travels. He’d placed the dining room by the floor-to-ceiling windows to give the effect of bringing outdoors inside.
He’d set a table on the balcony with place settings for three. Potted trees along the balustrade brought the park in the distance up to Evan’s living space. Candles dotted the table, though they had yet to be lit in the waning light. He felt a surge of pride as Kelly appraised his home. What struck him more was that he liked the way she looked in his place. Kelly against the backdrop of his belongings sent his senses thrumming.