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Surprised by Family: a Contemporary Romance Duet Page 2
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“Oh. I guess that would be me. Why do you care about the church?”
“It’s a great old building, and I’d like to see it preserved.”
Leila was irrationally pleased by his affirmation of her own attachment to the church. Like her, he’d grown up in this area, but she wouldn’t have expected the church to even be on his radar.
When he was a teenager, he’d liked sports. And video games. And music.
“Do you still play the sax?” she asked without thinking.
“Not much. Do you still dress up for dinner every night?”
She almost choked, remembering how she’d tried to doll herself up any time he stayed to eat with her brother and their family. “No.”
She slanted him a look at him through her eyelashes, checking his expression.
He looked smooth and charming at the moment, with an expression that made it clear he was used to being admired.
He wasn’t a real celebrity, but stories about his numerous female conquests and his increasingly dangerous stunts had been common in gossip columns and blogs for the last decade. She’d heard some of them even out in California.
Women no doubt threw themselves at him all the time.
She wasn’t about to be one of those women.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes holding hers, like he couldn’t quite figure her out. “Well, I won’t keep you,” he said at last. “Do you think we could set up a time to talk about the church?”
“Sure,” she said, with a bright smile. She actually wasn’t all that eager to see him again. He reminded her of the silly girl she used to be—the same one who had fallen for Rick’s slick charisma without realizing what lay underneath.
But they were standing right now in an office in James Hall, named for Baron’s father. The Jameses were long-standing university donors, and maybe he could help save the church.
She rifled through the stuff on her desk until she found a business card. Handing it to him, she said, “Just give me a call or shoot me an email, and we can set something up.”
Then she remembered something she should have remembered before. “I’m sorry about your dad,” she blurted out. His father’s death had been reported in the news. Less than a month ago. She suddenly realized that must be why he was back in Boston. He’d been forced to return to the central James Coffee offices after his father died.
He’d inherited the company. And all the responsibility that came with it.
A dramatic turn for a man who’d spent most of his twenties having fun.
Baron froze, unnaturally still for just a moment. “Thanks.”
She stood stupidly for too long, not knowing what to say. Then she finally thought of something. “How is Steven doing?” She asked mostly to be polite, since she’d never really liked Baron’s younger brother. He’d been a year older than her and teased her unmercifully. Not in a playful way.
Baron shrugged. “I guess he’s fine.”
“Don’t you know?”
“He dropped off the planet. I haven’t talked to him in three years.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” That sounded horrible. She’d always been close to her own brother.
Baron evidently was ready to be done with this conversation. He smiled with that same smooth charm. “Thanks.” Then he moved toward the door with only a polite farewell.
She was letting out a sigh of relief when he turned back without warning. “Oh, and try to watch out for those pesky files.”
She tried to give him a cool look of disapproval but didn’t really succeed.
When she was sure he was gone, she went to close the door of her office and leaned against it, rubbing her fingers over her scalp and telling herself the encounter hadn’t really been as embarrassing as she thought.
Yes, he’d caught her primping before his arrival. And, sure, she’d fallen on her ass in front of him. And, true, there had been about a minute when she’d stared at him like a besotted teenager.
But that was all… It wasn’t really that bad.
After a minute, she shook herself off. She was twenty-nine years old, but you just never outgrew occasionally feeling like an idiot.
But she had more email to answer. And a book manuscript to finish. And two classes to prepare for tomorrow.
She wouldn’t waste her time worrying about what Baron James happened to think about her, no matter how insanely hot the man was.
Baron was a ridiculous name, anyway.
When she was a kid, she’d thought Baron was the most romantic name she’d ever heard. She’d always called him that, even though he kept insisting he be called James instead.
Giving Baron that poem was still a mortifying memory, but it wasn’t the stupidest thing she’d ever done. When she was twenty-one, she’d married a handsome, charming man who cared more about himself than he’d ever cared about her.
It was a new school year now, though, and she had a brand new job, a new house for her and the girls, a fresh new start at her life.
She wasn’t going to be stupid anymore. She was going to make good decisions and act like a sensible adult.
Absolutely no more swooning over unattainable men, no matter how irresistible they were.
***
About an hour later, she heard familiar footsteps running down the hallway toward her office.
She turned in her desk chair soon enough to see two little girls run into the office with two long pairs of blond ponytails flying out behind them.
“Mommy,” Charlotte exclaimed dramatically, throwing open her arms like she was greeting a long-lost friend. “We’re here! We’re here! Aren’t you surprised?”
Leila suppressed a laugh. “I am surprised. How in the world did you get here?”
Jane was a few steps behind Charlotte, and she shook her head with grave wisdom at her twin sister. “She knew we were coming, silly. She told Miss Martin to bring us here.”
Charlotte frowned. “She didn’t know we were coming upstairs. Did you, Mommy?”
“I definitely didn’t know that.” She gave Charlotte a hug and looked over the girl’s shoulder at Jane. “Aren’t you happy to see me too, Jane?”
The girl’s sober little face broke out in smiles. “We rode up in the elevator. It made lots of creaky noises.”
“It does make a lot of noises.” Leila held an arm out and wrapped Jane into a hug too. “You didn’t sneak away from Miss Martin to come up here, did you?”
“Of course not,” Charlotte explained. “Miss Martin brought us up in the elevator, but then she had to make a visit to the little ladies room.”
The girls both giggled, and Leila took that opportunity to straighten Charlotte’s cotton skirt and rebuckle Jane’s sandal—correctly this time.
“I thought you were going to play outside until I came down,” Leila said. “Did you get bored?”
“No, we had fun,” Charlotte replied. “We played…Thermo…thermos…” She looked at her sister for help.
“Therm-o-ply.”
“Thermopylae?” Leila asked, blinking a couple of times. “How did you do that?”
“I was the Spartans, and Charlotte was the Persians. I stood my ground, but there was lots more of her.”
Leila gave a bewildered chuckle and decided Miss Martin was getting rather ambitious with the games. “Sounds like quite a confrontation.”
“Mommy,” Jane said, her voice hesitant as she stared with wide green eyes around the room. The girls were identical twins and looked almost exactly alike.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“I think you need to clean up your office.”
Leila laughed out loud. The move had been hard for them, but they’d been dealing with it pretty well. “You’re absolutely right. Maybe you can help me on Saturday. Would you like that?”
The girls agreed that sounded like an excellent plan. Leila swung the strap of her leather satchel over her shoulder, allowing Charlotte and Jane to each carry a book on the way out, and they all went to co
llect Miss Martin and go home.
By the time they left the building, Leila had almost forgotten that Baron James had paid her a visit that afternoon.
It wasn’t until bedtime that she thought about him again and wondered why he’d been interested in her dilapidated little church.
Two
Today was not Baron’s best day, and all he’d done so far was look at his schedule.
His father had run James Coffee as a one-man operation, requiring even small decisions to pass through his office before they were implemented, and Baron had no idea how his father had done it. Every day, Baron would go into the office, sit at his father’s desk, and just barely keep his head above water as emails and phone calls and documents to sign and urgent meetings slammed into him in waves.
The company hadn’t even officially transitioned to him yet, but someone had to sit at this desk if James Coffee was going to stay afloat.
Just six weeks ago, his top priority had been convincing his father to let him off from his job responsibilities long enough for Baron to tour with a jazz band for a few months.
Then his father died and everything changed.
“I thought I told you I can’t work through lunch every day,” Baron gritted out, trying and failing to keep with tone polite with MaryAnn, who had been his father’s assistant for over twenty years.
“I know, sir, but noon is the only time Mr. Chester had available for the call. The decision has to be made this week. It’s Friday, which means you have to talk to him today. ”
“I know it’s Friday.” It was only seven-thirty in the morning, and Baron already had a pounding headache. He gulped his coffee, but it was too hot, and it burned as it went down his throat. “And this marketing meeting this afternoon will have to be cut short. I’ve got to go to a cocktail party tonight.”
“What party is that? It wasn’t on your schedule.”
“It’s not work related.”
“You still need to let me know, so I know where you are and when you’re unavailable.”
Baron tried very hard not to groan in frustration. “It’s a Benton College thing.”
“Related to the purchase of the church?”
“Yes.”
MaryAnn busily entered something into the tablet she carried around with her everywhere. She was a polished woman with silver hair and a perpetually disapproving expression. “Has there been any progress on the purchase?”
“The church is a personal thing. Not related to company business.”
“Your father would always—”
“I don’t care what my father would do. I’ll ask for your help when I need it.”
She glanced down at her tablet. “Understood, sir.”
Baron released his breath in a loud gust. Now he felt like an absolute ass. “I’m sorry. I really do appreciate your help.”
“Thank you, sir. You need to get through this stack of documents before you do anything else this morning.” She gestured to the pile of papers she’d placed in the very center of his work surface. “Nothing can move forward on any of those initiatives until you sign them.”
MaryAnn sounded rather bossy, probably because she’d reminded him about the stack several times over the last two days. But it wasn’t like he’d been frittering away the time having fun. He’d averaged fifteen hours a day in this office every day this week. The only personal time he’d taken was the hour he’d gone over to Benton College to see Leila. “Okay.”
He moved the stack of documents closer to him and forced himself to read the words on the top page. He assumed everything had been thoroughly vetted before it got to this desk, but he couldn’t yet bring himself to sign something he hadn’t at least read.
When he read and signed the first document, he glanced over at MaryAnn, realizing she was going to hover over him until he’d gone through the entire stack. He bit back an impatient comment and kept reading.
***
Later that evening, Baron saw Leila as soon as he entered the great room of the house belonging to Benton College’s president.
Baron wasn’t in the habit of going to college cocktail parties—in fact, he tried to avoid cocktail parties as a general rule—but he’d been invited, and he currently had reason to stay on the good side of the Benton administration.
For years, his father had wanted the college to sell him the parcel of land on the west side of campus—including the little church. Only after the recent storm damage had Benton College shown any openness to the sale at all.
His father had wanted this to happen, so the purchase was now a priority for Baron as well.
He greeted his hostess and made some idle small talk, his eyes straying over to Leila across the room.
He couldn’t believe the mousey little girl he remembered had transformed into this woman.
Leila had her back to him, but he recognized her small form and the lush curve of her ass. He’d seen her some when she’d been an older teenager, but he definitely didn’t remember her having such a gorgeous body.
She wore a dark skirt suit and a pair of heels that accentuated her legs. When her head turned he saw she was still wearing the wire-framed glasses. She was talking enthusiastically to a couple he recognized from the Board of Trustees.
She used to have a thing for him. She’d written him a very flowery poem that still made him chuckle to think about.
Baron hadn’t had sex since his father had died. He hadn’t even been on a date. He’d done nothing but work and worry and try desperately to recover the flimsy threads of his family remaining.
He was suddenly hit with the desire to feel like himself again. To be himself. He didn’t have time for a dangerous adventure sport, and he didn’t have the energy to restart his active social life.
But at least he could enjoy a woman for one evening.
Baron knew how to do that.
He played nice with the president for a while and then made his way over to the other side of the room, picking up two glasses of Merlot as he did
Leila’s glass was empty, but he could see the wine she’d been drinking was red.
She still hadn’t noticed him, which was honestly surprising and a little annoying. He certainly didn’t assume he had to be the center of attention, but Baron wasn’t used to not being noticed at all. At least by women.
She was still talking to the same couple, and a few more college trustees had wandered over to listen.
One of them, an affluent Boston heart surgeon, nodded and smiled at Baron as he approached. “James, you should hear this. You’re interested in our little church too.”
“What should I listen to?” Baron smiled at Leila. “Dr. Luther, it’s good to see you again.”
Leila blinked, his presence obviously taking her by surprise, but she returned his smile. “Hi.” She accepted the glass of wine he offered, slanting him a decidedly suspicious look afterwards.
Baron was accustomed to getting any woman he wanted. He never had to try very hard. Leila wasn’t the kind of woman he normally pursued, but he was hardly blind to her delicious little body, her deep green eyes, and those sensuous lips.
And he wanted to feel like himself again, if only for one night.
His smile didn’t waver as he raised his glass slightly toward her. “I’ve already looked into Dr. Luther’s research on the churches of the Great Awakening. It’s very impressive.”
He met her eyes with an arch of his eyebrow, which should have left her breathless. Instead, she responded with a dry look of inquiry, as if she was wondering what he was up to.
Surely, she recognized that he was subtly coming on to her.
“Why are you interested in West Church at all?” she asked. She’d asked him the same thing back in her office, but she obviously wasn’t content with the answer she’d received.
He gave a half-shrug. “I’ve made an offer on the property.”
“What? Really? You’re not planning to tear it down, are you?”
“Why would
you assume that?”
“I’m just surprised you’re interested in it at all, and I know the property could be valuable to developers. Why would you spend money on the church if you’re not planning to tear it down?”
He didn’t answer her question. He hadn’t told anyone why he wanted to the church—as a sentimental gesture in memory of his father. Leila felt familiar to him, like they had a long history, but he really didn’t know who she was anymore. He wasn’t about to tell her the truth.
Instead, he asked, “Why is it so important to you? I don’t remember you being religious.”
“I’m not religious. It’s not about that. It’s about the history the building represents.”
“What history is that?”
She paused and peered at him, as if checking if he was really interested. Then she said, “The moment of the first Great Awakening in history shaped New England. It shaped the entire United States. If you look through the course of history, it’s when people really believe in something—when they’re moved by that belief—that we make real progress. That’s when we create beauty, when we discover the unknown, when we make the world better. What happened in churches like West Church changed the world. I wrote a dissertation on all the ways that happened. It doesn’t matter that whether we believe the same things they believed. What matters is that it shaped who we are."
She wasn’t playing an angle here. She wasn’t trying to charm him or out-maneuver him or hide her real agenda. The words were obviously what she genuinely believed, and she wanted him to believe it too.
Baron had no idea how to respond.
“That’s amazing,” the heart surgeon said. “I’ve never thought about it before, but that’s why colleges exist in the first place. Maybe we should rebuild the church after all.”
Baron was suddenly worried she’d unintentionally blown apart his whole plans for the purchase by convincing these board members not to sell the property.
He couldn’t lose the church. It had meant too much to his father. “I’m planning to rebuild the church, preserving all of its historic character,” he said. “And I have the money to invest to make that happen, without any sacrifice on Benton’s part. It seems like a win-win situation.”