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“May I help you?” the older woman asked, suddenly all genteel Southern charm.
Eve jumped in to make introductions. “Mom, this is Derek McCabe. Derek, my mother, Marjorie Loughlin. I don’t think the two of you met when you came in the other day.”
They hadn’t, Derek realized.
Marjorie came forward to shake his hand. “Mr. McCabe, what a pleasure to meet you! Eve tells me you went to contract on a house.”
Not really surprised by the zero-to-sixty change in attitude and demeanor—salespeople were legendary for their ability to morph into what was required—he nodded and returned her energetic smile. “I did. Your daughter was amazing, by the way.”
“That’s always good to hear,” Marjorie replied, a bead of perspiration appearing on her elegant brow.
After a tense look at her mother, Eve stepped forward in turn. “What can we help you with?” she asked in a pleasant but businesslike tone.
He lifted the iPad in its red leather case, glad his presence had stopped the familial quarreling, at least momentarily. “You left this at the house.”
Eve slanted a glance at her mother, who seemed to be swaying slightly. “Thank you for bringing it.”
Before her daughter could get to her, Marjorie eased into the chair behind her impressive glass-and-chrome desk.
Noticing the way she was trembling, Eve turned paler, too. And it was easy to see why she was worried, Derek thought. Marjorie seemed near physical collapse, though she was trying her best to hide it. “Mrs. Loughlin, are you feeling all right?” he asked with concern.
“I don’t see how Marjorie could be, since she just got out of the hospital,” Sasha cried, obviously near tears.
“And she’s supposed to be in the cardiac rehabilitation unit as we speak,” Eve added pointedly.
Although she was ghostly white, and shaking visibly, Marjorie glared at her daughter and the stressed-out office manager. “I don’t need it.”
Eve glowered back, seeming to forget for a moment they had an audience. “That’s not what I heard, Mom. I just spoke to your cardiologist, and Dr. Jackson said you checked yourself out against medical advice!”
Another dot of perspiration appeared on Marjorie’s forehead, but she wiped it away. “I told the cardiac rehab staff I’d go when my schedule clears up. Right now—” she squared her shoulders and turned to the stack of messages on her desk “—there is work to be done here.”
Eve paced, looking ready to explode. “Work the four other employees of the agency can handle.”
Once again, Derek stepped in as peacemaker. “How long were you supposed to be at the rehab center?” he asked.
Marjorie shrugged and didn’t answer.
“Four weeks,” Eve said. “Then she’s to continue her physical therapy on an outpatient basis and recuperate at home, until Dr. Jackson gives her the all-clear to return to work, which will probably be not until well after the Christmas holidays.”
Derek had been through something similar with his own mother, when pneumonia precluded Josie’s return to work. He poured Marjorie a glass of sparkling water and took it to her. Knowing it was sometimes easier to listen to a neutral third party than a family member, he said gently, “That’s not too much to ask, is it? To follow medical advice, if for no other reason than to prevent any more issues with your heart?”
The older woman hesitated, but still did not give in.
Eve came and knelt down beside Marjorie, clasping her hands. “Come on, Mom. It is the season of giving, after all. And the only gift I want from you...is for you to be well.” Still gazing up at her mother, she released a deep, quivering breath. And then burst into tears.
* * *
“THANK YOU SO much for all you did this evening,” Eve told Derek two hours later, when they finally got back to the office. She glanced across the car at him as he pulled into the parking lot, then paused, her shoulder bag on her lap. “If you hadn’t been here, using all your McCabe charm, I don’t know if I would have been able to get my mother back to the cardiac rehabilitation center at all.”
With the motor still idling, Derek reached across the leather console and took her hand in his. “The important thing is she went, and agreed to stay the duration, providing you take care of everything else. But my question is...” Derek paused, his warm palm still engulfing hers “...who’s taking care of you?”
Eve caught her breath. Once again, her time with him was not going according to script. “What do you mean?”
“Did you even eat dinner last night?”
Eve didn’t know how he could look so cool, calm and collected, when she felt so frazzled. “I...” She paused in turn, unable to remember when she’d eaten last. Warming to his slow, sexy smile, she had to admit reluctantly, “Maybe not.”
As if they had all the time in the world to spend together, he continued his tender inquiry. “Breakfast this morning?”
Aware it had been forever since someone had taken care of her, she flushed, and pushed aside the memory of his kiss. “Toast.”
He gave her a long, steady look. “Lunch?”
Eve fought back a second wave of heat. “A salad.”
“Then you definitely need a solid meal this evening.”
Trying not to think about how good it would feel to have a man like Derek looking after her, Eve folded her arms and retorted, “Since when did you become my personal nutritionist?”
He lifted his wide shoulders and she caught a whiff of his sandalwood-and-pine cologne. “Think of it as me returning all the favors you’ve done me the past few days.”
Eve swallowed around the sudden tightness of her throat. “That was my job.”
Triumph radiated in his smile. “And at the moment, being a gentleman is mine. Come on.” He leaned toward her. “You know a good meal will not just fuel your body, but enable you to care for your mother and work a whole lot more efficiently to boot.”
Unable to dispute all that he was saying, Eve lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay, I’ll go.” She held his gaze resolutely. “So long as we’re both clear this is absolutely not a date.”
Derek appeared affronted. “Of course not.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s just me saying thank-you to my most excellent Realtor.”
Considering the size of the commission she was going to reap from the sale, Eve was the one expressing gratitude. “No. I am taking you out, as a thank-you.”
His lips quirking with amusement, Derek put the Jaguar in reverse. “We’ll fight over the check at dinner.”
“No, we won’t,” Eve said calmly. “Because I’m buying.”
It was, she knew, the best way to set an all-business tone for the evening. And prevent another kiss, or any emotional closeness from materializing again.
* * *
UNFORTUNATELY, THE RESTAURANT Derek chose felt anything but businesslike. It was dark and romantic, with deep leather booths that afforded maximum privacy. Adding to the winter wonderland atmosphere were abundant Christmas decorations and soothing holiday music playing in the background. Not to mention the sense that, despite her insistence to the contrary, this was in fact their first real date.
“So I take it you have no siblings,” Derek said once the butternut bisque had been served.
Telling herself there could be no harm in getting acquainted in a friendly way—doing so might even eventually lead to more clients, upon his recommendation—Eve drew her spoon through the Granny Smith apple garnish. “No, it’s always been just me and my mom.”
He regarded her with interest. “Your mom never married?”
Trying not to feel a thrill at being with him in such an intimate setting, Eve shook her head and continued holding his gaze. “She never really even dated. The situation with my father turned her away from that. Although she insists it was really the best thing for her.”
Derek poured them both a little more wine, an inscrutable expression on his face. “Do you agree with that assumption?”
Eve shrugged, not sure. “The please-go-away-and-never-darken-my-doorstep-again check my blue-blooded father gave her enabled her to get a foothold here and launch what has been a very satisfying career for her.”
From the look of admiration he sent her way, Derek seemed to understand what a feat that had been for Marjorie, who’d come from nothing herself. “Does she want the same kind of life for you?”
“You mean single, high-powered career woman?” Workaholic? Eve added silently.
He nodded.
Good question. She finished her soup and moved the dish aside, giving his inquiry the serious consideration it deserved. “Well, she wants me to be able to support myself. She’d like it if I took over the business when she’s gone.”
Derek’s gaze roved Eve’s face, hair and lips, before returning ever so slowly to her eyes. “You don’t see your mom stepping down?”
Tingling everywhere his gaze had landed, as well as everywhere it hadn’t, Eve shook her head facetiously. “Not as long as there’s breath in her body.”
He chuckled. “Having met your mom, I totally understand. Mine is the same way.”
They leaned back as their soup dishes were cleared and plates of vinaigrette-dressed field greens peppered with pecans and cranberries were set in front of them.
Derek regarded Eve curiously. “What about you? Do you want to have more of a personal life?” He waggled his brows comically. “Are you dating anyone?”
His exaggerated interest had her rolling her eyes. “Checking to see if there’s any competition?”
“Something like that,” he said smoothly.
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