Predicting Rain?

“Mmm,” George said as he looked back at the painting. “Next door, huh? Well, from what little I’ve been able to find out, Ford and some others are working on a big deal, and it looks as if that very big deal could fall through.”

Rain wondered if Mr. Jackson Ford was on the edge of being booted from LynTech for some mess up on his part? Maybe that was partly why he was so uptight. “Too bad,” she said.

“It’s all a part of the corporate mindset, that need to work your butt off and make big bucks and destroy this country in the process,” George said. “That can’t be easy on anyone.”

She didn’t want him to get started on this. She’d heard the speech far too often, and her nerves couldn’t stand it now. “No it can’t,” she said, ready to deflect the topic, but he did it for her.

“Do you think this is too much?” he asked, pointing at a huge blot of crimson dead in the middle of the canvas. “Too…intense, too flamboyant?”

Everything about George was flamboyant, another character trait that she’d adjusted to a long time ago. “You’re asking me that, the person who you once said, if I remember correctly, had the artistic bent of a log?” she teased.

He turned with a grin. “I forgot for a moment. Thought I was talking to Serenity.”

She called her mother Bree, but George never called her by anything except the nickname he’d given her the summer they met years ago at a commune on the coast of California near Big Sur. “So, she called, didn’t she?”

“Sure did.” The grin seemed permanent now. He always seemed to glow a bit when he talked about her. Over the years, through all the changes in both of them, she’d never doubted that her parents loved each other very much. They just didn’t commit to a relationship the way the world thought they should. “Did I tell you I’m taking off soon?” George asked.

“No, you didn’t, but then again, when did you ever check in when you wanted to take off?” She’d just gotten here, and with the mess at the hospital, she was hoping he’d be around for a while. But George moved when he wanted to and she was used to him just up and leaving when the spirit moved him.

“True, and that being the case, I’m assuming that I didn’t tell you where I’m going?”

“I didn’t expect you would,” she said. “Is there a gathering or something?”

“No, not at this time of the year.” Then he came over to the hammock and stood in front of Rain with his arms out at his sides. “So, how do I look?”

She shrugged. “Like you usually look.”

For some reason that seemed to please him. “Good, good,” he murmured and moved across the studio area to the makeshift dining table all but covered with stretched canvases and paint supplies.

“So, where are you going?” she asked.

“The Golden City,” he said, the smile deepening.

That meant San Francisco, more specifically, Palo Alto. “Oh, is she expecting you?”

“She’s always expecting me,” he said. “And while I’m gone, chill and get centered.”

“I’m chilling, and I’m centered,” she said.

“No, you’re not. I can’t remember how long it’s been since you’ve been centered. That so-called institution of higher learning might have given you a degree, but it also made you uptight.” He frowned at her. “And since you showed up on my doorstep saying you were going to play doctor in Houston, well…” He gave a mock shudder. “Girl, you need to get back to the basics.”

She wasn’t in any mood for one of his lectures on her choices. For a person who believed in free will and live and let live, he got remarkably judgmental about her life choices. For a moment she thought that despite his attempts at being so different from the suits, he and Jack Ford had something in common. Judging her. “George, stop. You know this is a non-topic. You taught me to make my own choices, and my own choice was to become a clinical therapist for children.”

“I know, I know, and you’re really trying to help children, just going down a different road.” He came across to her. “It’s just hard for me to think of you, my daughter, being a real professional with a real Ph.D.” He looked genuinely shocked by that. “Who would have thought it?”

“Yeah, who would have thought it?” she murmured with a grin.

He kissed her on the forehead, then stood back and said, “I’m leaving later this morning.”

She had always been amazed at her parents’ idea of “marriage.” Her mother lived in Palo Alto and George, whom her mother called “Dune,” lived wherever he wanted to, but mostly here in Houston where he painted. But twice a year, George headed west and twice a year, Bree headed east. That had been going on since Rain was eight and her mother had decided that she needed a “home” that stayed put. So the two of them had agreed on an arrangement, and it worked. Amazingly, twenty years later, they were still “connected,” and happier than a whole lot of couples held together by a piece of paper.

“Give her my love?” she murmured.

“Why don’t you come out with me? She’d love to see you.”

“I saw her two weeks ago when I left there to come here,” she pointed out. “And you know I can’t anyway, not with this whole thing at the hospital up in the air.” She shrugged. “I never expected to get here, thinking the staff position at the hospital was a done deal, then to be told that there were ‘budget considerations,’ and they put me on hold. I talked to Dr. Shay earlier today and he said it could be a week or two before they get the approval.” She shrugged. “I think they look at it as another clinical psychologist in pediatrics isn’t a life and death role, not like a surgeon or an internist.”

“Don’t they know that the soul and spirit pretty much rule our physical health?”

She slid off of the hammock and put her mug on a paint smeared shelf nearby, then turned to George. “I guess not. Now tell me what you need done while you’re gone.”

He grinned. “That’s the beauty of my life here. There is nothing to do. Just chill and—”

“I know, get centered.”

“That’s it.” He crossed to a wicker trunk under the high loft windows.

“Well, I’ve got nothing but time on my hands until the call comes from the hospital.”

“There’s a fine free clinic down on Brown and—”

“That’s a drug treatment center, George,” she said. “That’s not my specialty. You know that. I work with children.”

“The only children thing I know about is the day-care center at LynTech,” George said as he rummaged through the wicker trunk.

“A corporate institution?” she asked with true amazement.

“No, not really. It’s in LynTech, and was started for them.” He turned with a pair of rope sandals in his hands. “But it’s changed. Lindsey Holden, the CEO’s wife, has transformed it into a real community effort. It’s just getting off the ground and they’re taking in the children of workers in that area, anyone who needs a good day care for their child. I mean, a lot of workers in that area can’t really afford expensive day care. I’m betting they’ll have some kids coming in who need the kind of help you could give them.”

She was shocked that he’d mellowed to the extent that he’d give anything connected to a corporation consideration. Then again, he’d been talking a lot about LynTech since she’d arrived. “You could be right.”

“They’re even sponsoring a huge benefit next month for the children’s hospital intensive care pediatrics wing expansion. Robert Lewis, the founder of LynTech, was involved in the fund-raising, and it seemed natural to get the day-care center in on it, too. I think they’re on the right track.” He crossed to a canvas knapsack sitting by the door to the hallway. “It was encouraging that they’d reach out like that, especially to a children’s hospital. A huge fancy ball wasn’t what I’d choose to raise money, but they weren’t interested in any of my suggestions.”

She didn’t ask what his suggestions were. “It sounds as if their corporate heart is in the right place.”

“Who would have thought that the words corporate and heart would be in the same sentence?” he murmured with a touch of disbelief.

“Well, that’s an idea, maybe volunteering there for a week or so,” she said, and headed into the side space where she’d set up her bed mat. “You’re leaving early?”

“Sunup,” he said.

She stopped and looked over at him. “Oh, speaking of corporate hearts. Mr. Ford said that he’d let them know about the cat. So, you don’t need to bother telling Zane…whatever.”

“Holden, Zane Holden,” he said. “And speaking of Zane Holden, do you want me to give him a call and put in a good word for you at the day-care center?”

“No, thanks. I’m not sure it’s a good idea anyway.” That’s all she needed was to be around people like Jack Ford all day. “The hospital might call soon.”

“Whatever,” he murmured. “Do what you think is best.”

That’s the way she’d always lived her life, with no strong parental rules. She’d just happened to make what she thought were good decisions. Staying clear of people like Jackson Ford was a very good decision.

TWO DAYS LATER, Rain gave up on a quick resolution of her position at the hospital and impulsively made a call to the day-care center at LynTech, Just For Kids. She’d spoken to a woman named Mary Garner, and Mary had been thrilled that she was interested in volunteering at the center.

Now she stood in the middle of the center, the main playroom with an awesome fantasy of a tree fashioned out of wood and paint, with tunnels in its trunk and limbs that ran from one side of the room to the other to play centers near the walls. The children were happy, and the staff seemed to be very caring. It was so much more than George had told her about.

She’d just finished a tour conducted by Mary and was taking in beautiful murals on all four walls, a ring of laughing, playing children, each with a name by them. There were maybe fifteen children in the main room right then, lying on nap mats under the sprawling wooden limbs of the play tree and soft music was being piped in. It all seemed inventive and effective.

She turned to Mary, a slightly built woman, with a cap of gray, feathery hair, and rimless glasses perched on her nose, magnifying kind blue eyes set in a softly pleasant face. She was possibly in her early sixties, spry and gentle, with a voice that matched the sweetness in her expression. Right now she was looking at Rain, and asking in a partial whisper, “So, what do you think of our lovely center?”

“I think it’s terrific. Just great,” she said in a voice that matched Mary’s.

“I’ve only been here a few months, but I do love it so. And I want others to love it, too.” She looked at Rain’s clothes, the navy slacks and white short-sleeved sweater that she’d hoped would be suitable under the circumstances. She’d confined her hair in a single braid down her back, skimming it simply off of her face. “I’d advise that you wear more casual clothes when you’re here, jeans and such. It can be hard on one’s wardrobe,” she said, then pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m assuming far too much.”

Rain didn’t hesitate. She’d done this impulsively, but it had been absolutely the right thing to do. “No, you aren’t. I’d love to be part of this.”

Mary touched her arm. “Wonderful, wonderful, now all we have to do is take care of the formalities. Wait right here,” she said and hurried off toward the office area.

Rain watched the children, enjoying the sense of peace in the space, then Mary was back with the folder Rain had brought with her containing her credentials and references. “After you called yesterday, I talked with Lindsey, Mrs. Holden, and she would be very grateful if you could help us out for a bit.” She handed the packet to Rain. “We’re growing so quickly and with new children coming in, we could use someone on call that could help if there was a problem.”

“Well, I’ve got plenty of time now, but once I’m on at the hospital, any help will have to be planned around my schedule there.”

“Of course. That’s understood,” she said. “I wonder how you heard about us.”

Rain didn’t need anyone’s preconceived ideas about her father tainting her. As much as she loved her father, when people found out about him and his lifestyle, they automatically included her in the equation. The way Jack Ford had. She was a clinical psychologist specializing in helping troubled children. That was all the credentials she needed here.

“I actually heard about you at the hospital when I was going through the interviewing there. They’re very excited about the charity ball.”

“We’re all very excited about it.” She tapped the top of the folder in Rain’s hands. “Just take that all up to Personnel and they’ll give you some paperwork.”

“Personnel?”

“Even though you’re not getting paid, we still need you to be on staff. Insurance, I think that’s what Lindsey said. The center has an office in LynTech Personnel for now. When you’re through there, Mrs. Holden would like to meet you. She’s in her husband’s offices on the top floor. She’s pregnant and been having morning sickness day and night, poor thing.” Mary told her how to get to Personnel and to Zane Holden’s office, then said, “Ask for Charles Gage or his assistant. They work for us. They’ll be expecting you. Take the elevator just across the corridor outside the main doors.”

“Okay,” Rain said with a smile. “I’ll see you soon.” Then Rain left, quietly going past the sleeping children and out the entrance doors. The main reception area was to her right, more corridors to her left, and straight across the broad, marble-floored area, was a bank of elevators. She saw a lady step into the nearest car, and she called out, “Hold the car, please!” as she hurried past a couple of people.

The woman, thin with short, dark hair smiled at Rain as she kept the door from closing. Rain stepped inside and pushed the button for the sixth floor. Before the door closed she saw Jack Ford walking toward the center.

This Jack Ford wasn’t the same man she’d met in her ill-fated foray into the loft in the small hours of the morning. Now he was the image of what she’d labeled him that night, a corporate suit. He was in one of those suits, done in dove gray, double breasted, sleekly tailored and probably obscenely expensive, as expensive as the leather briefcase clutched in his free hand and the leather shoes on his feet. He was on a cell phone, and his face, even more sharply angular in the clear light, was set in an expression of extreme concentration. The tension in him the night before had only intensified, and she had the impression that whatever was going on right then, wasn’t good.

He stopped right by the doors to the center, and closed his eyes as the elevator doors finally slid shut. She was inordinately relieved that he hadn’t seen her. At least working in the center, she wouldn’t have to be around him at all. There was no way they’d get involved. Her use of words shocked her slightly. Involved? He didn’t even exist in the same reality she did and even more importantly, he wouldn’t want to.

Chapter Three

Jack knew the cat was at the loft to stay, at least until Zane and Lindsey’s lives calmed down a bit. The cat came and went as he pleased, and he only bothered with Jack when it came to food. Food ruled the cat, and the cat ruled his world as he perceived it. This morning he’d shown up and decided that it was time to eat, just as Jack was leaving the loft. Foolishly he’d gone to get the food, put it out for the cat, spilled some of the tuna on the sleeve of his jacket and had to change. All in all, it had made him more than fifteen minutes late getting to the office.

He’d barely come in the main entrance of LynTech when his cell phone rang and it was Eve. He’d been trying to make contact with her by something other than e-mail for the last two days, and now that she was on the line, he was rushed. He kept walking, and spoke into it, “Finally.”

“Yes, love, finally,” she said, her voice faintly tinny on the line. “I’ve been trying to catch you everywhere, and the cell phone number you gave me kept cutting off before it connected.”

“Well, I’m on another continent,” he said, nodding to the security guard at the front, a tall, well-built man in a tailored khaki uniform.

“I know. And that’s—”

A beep cut off her next word and he didn’t hear it. “Eve, I’ve got another call coming in. Let me call you when I get to my office. Where are you?”

“At Father’s.”

“Okay, give me ten minutes,” and he clicked over to the other call. But before he said anything, he heard a voice somewhere ahead of him. Her voice. Rain’s. He couldn’t make out the words, just that it was her voice, but when he looked up, he didn’t see her.

He hadn’t seen her again at the loft, either, and he’d thought she’d left with the old hippie for a trip. Someone on the bottom floor had said George was out of town, that he always took off like that. But for that single moment he’d been sure he’d heard her, then he’d realized how ridiculous that would have been. No one at LynTech would be walking around with bare feet, tie-dyed T-shirts or waist-length hair.

“Ford here,” he said into the phone as he stopped in the corridor by a set of brightly painted doors with Just For Kids on them.

It was Martin Griggs, the negotiator for EJS with LynTech. Jack pushed the elevator call button, hoped that he wouldn’t lose the signal in the car, and by the time he stepped out into the corridor, he’d forgotten about voices and was focused on business again. He assured Griggs that it wasn’t anyone at the top level of LynTech who let word of the deal leak out, and by the time he got to his office, Griggs had agreed to try to get E. J. Sommers in on a conference call.

Jack hung up, and put in a call to Quint Gallagher in New York, who was there for his son’s wedding. Gallagher had known E. J. Sommers in the past and he could be an edge for them. But all he got was a voice mail service and he left a message. He hung up, went into the office they’d given him for the duration and was just taking off his jacket when Rita Donovan, executive assistant to both Zane and Matt Terrell, came into his office.

“Mr. Ford,” the thin, dark haired woman said in her usual staccato voice. “I was looking for you. Mr. Holden needs to talk to you as soon as you’re in.”

“Okay,” he said as he put his suit coat over the back of his chair. “Where is he?”

“His office. His wife’s not feeling well, so he’s staying with her.”

“I’ll be down right away,” he said.

She turned to go, but stopped. “Oh, Mr. Ford, a Miss Ryder called about fifteen minutes ago. She’s been trying to reach you and couldn’t get through.”

He’d forgotten about calling Eve back, and that bothered him. He wasn’t sure why he thought it, but if he just talked to her for a while, some of the insanity that seemed to be falling into his life would disappear. “I need to call her back. Can Zane wait a few minutes?”

“I don’t think so,” she said.

He glanced at his watch and then at Rita. “Okay, could you call Miss Ryder and tell her I’ll get back to her within the hour?” He scribbled her number in London on a sheet of paper and crossed to give it to her. “And tell her I’m sorry.”

“Of course, sir,” Rita said as she took the paper, then left.

Jack only took enough time to print out a file he’d e-mailed to the office earlier, before he headed for Zane’s office. Once he arrived, he thought no one was there. Then he looked past the cluttered desk in the large office, into another room across the way. He didn’t know what the original purpose of that room had been, but it was being used as a playroom of sorts for Zane’s son, Walker.

But Walker wasn’t there. Zane was with Lindsey who was all curled up on a thick mat on the floor. Zane was beside her, rubbing her back and talking softly to her. “Zane?” Jack said, hating to interrupt, but knowing they had to talk.

Zane twisted, nodded to Jack, then leaned over his wife, said something to her, kissed her quickly and stood. He came out of the room, closed the door quietly and shook his head.

“I don’t know why they call it morning sickness, because she has it all the time.” The rangy man was in a plain white shirt, with its long sleeves rolled up on his forearms, and navy slacks. His sandy hair was mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it. “She had some tofu thing last night that Matt’s wife, Brittany, swore would stay down. Well, it didn’t,” he said as he crossed to the desk. “Nothing does.”

Jack always thought that Robert Lewis might have been angling to get him together with his daughter, Brittany, in the past, but despite the fact that she was beautiful, he’d avoided being anything more then friends with her. They had been around each other by default so many times, and Robert might have thought they were more than just friends. Robert was wrong. The Brittany he knew was flaky and self-centered, a woman who went through fiancées the way a lizard shed its skin. He’d probably been as shocked as Robert when she’d finally married Matt Terrell and actually settled down to her art career and a family that included a nine-year-old boy.

People changed. He knew Zane Holden had. The man he’d met before he married Lindsey, was vastly different from the one he was facing now. Business was still business, and he was good at it. But now his wife and child were his top priorities.

“I guess it’s rough,” he said, for lack of anything better to say about morning sickness. He couldn’t begin to imagine Eve in Lindsey’s condition. And it hit him that he’d never once envisioned Eve as a mother at all.

“Amen to that,” Zane dropped down in his chair. He sat forward, his elbows on the piles of papers sorted on the top of the desk and looked up at Jack. “How old is the little girl you’re taking care of?”

He had to think for a minute. “Four.”

Zane smiled slightly. “Cute age.”

Victoria was cute. Her mother had been pretty in a delicate way, and Victoria looked a lot like her mother. And Eve had said she was like a little doll. “Yes, a cute age,” he said, and put the papers he’d brought with him on top of the work Zane had been doing. “I got a call from Griggs,” he said, trying to get back to business and forget about why Eve and he hadn’t even discussed children. “I think he’s going to be able to get Sommers involved in this whole business.”

“Terrific,” Zane said, taking the printout Jack was offering him. “No way can we make this work with a middleman doing the talking and someone leaking the information before it’s set in stone.”

“I hope he can influence Sommers.”

“Word is, little influences E. J. Sommers beyond his play toys and a good party. You’d never guess the guy was a genius.” Zane sat back and glanced at the clock. “Matt should be back from court soon, then we can all sit down and go through this.”

“Court?”

“Nothing serious, just clearing up some things about the adoption of Anthony. As soon as he gets back here, we’ll—”

His words were cut off when Lindsey came out of the side room. Jack had seen Lindsey in February, around the time she’d found out she was pregnant and he’d thought she was pretty, in a slender, wispy way. But right then she looked miserable, her pregnancy showing despite the loose white shirt and leggings she was wearing. Her skin was as white as parchment, her eyes were smudged with shadows and an expression of discomfort etched her face.

“I’m so sorry,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “I know what you’re doing is really important, but I can’t stay here. I need to go home.”

Zane moved quickly, crossing to put his arm around her protectively and spoke in a low voice, “That tofu was a huge mistake.”

She looked up at him, and surprisingly there was a faint smile on her pale lips. “Now you tell me.”

He hugged her to him and spoke to Jack over her head. “Do me a favor and cover for me here until Matt gets back from court. Let Rita know I’m going home, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours?”

“No,” Lindsey said, protesting weakly. “I can go by myself.”

Zane acted as if she hadn’t spoken and when he did, Zane saw the morning going down the tubes. “I’ve got a call coming in from Tokyo,” Zane said over his shoulder as he helped Lindsey walk to the private elevator set off to the right in the room.