Chapter 3

Indie was pointing out a lovely green cotton blouse to a customer when she noticed the little girl wandering into the shop. She frowned as she realized that no one accompanied her.

"Ilene, please take over for me?" Smiling at the customer, she walked over to the child, staring at a glass beads collection.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"My name is Indie. What's yours?"

"Madison."

Indie stared at the tumble of blue-black hair and the rosy complexion. "Madison, where is your Mommy?"

"I don't have a Mommy."

"Everyone has a Mommy, sweetheart. Who are you here with?"

"My nanny." An impish smile crossed the child's lips. "I ran away from her while she was getting ice cream."

"I bet she is worried by now. Where was she getting ice cream?"

"In the park. What kind of store is this?"

"It's called ‘Everything Black.'"

The child looked around curiously, noticing the myriad jewel colors. "There isn"t much black stuff around."

Indie laughed in delight at the childish observation. "It's called that because people have made everything in here of color." She looked out the doorway to see whether or not the harassed woman was coming to find her charge. "How about we go and find that nanny of yours? We would not want her to start worrying and calling the police."

Madison nodded, putting her hand trustingly into Indie's.

"Is it your store?" She asked curiously as they made their way out the door, the bell tinkling loudly.

"It is."

"I like it."

"Why, thank you." They waited at the light and crossed the road to the park. A crowd was already gathered—children out of school for the summer break and nannies walking in clusters with kids in strollers, eating ice cream. It was a lovely day for it. The breeze wafted through the trees, and the sun dimmed its brilliance to make it bearable.

"Do you see her anywhere?"

"There she is!" The little girl cried, jumping up and down.

"What's her name?"

"Glenna."

"She looks frantic." Picking up the pace, Indie hurried over to the young woman looking around the playground.

"Glenna?"

"Yes?" Whirling around, the woman placed a hand on her chest and looked faint with relief. "Maddie! Where have you been? I have been searching all over the park for you. I was just about to call your grandmother."

"I went to the store across the road."

Glenna stared at her with wide eyes. "You crossed the road by yourself?"

"I waited until the light turned red. This is Indie. She owns the shop over there."

Glenna tore her eyes away from the little girl and seemed to notice Indie for the first time. "You brought her back. Thank you so much."

"You are welcome. I figured she was just exploring."

"Her father and grandmother would have had my head." Still pressing a hand on her chest, she took the little girl's hand. "And I am going to have to tell them."

"Oh, please don't tell Daddy. He is going to be so mad.""I am going to have to tell your grandma," Glenna told her firmly before looking up at Indie. "I cannot thank you enough."

"You are welcome." Taking Madison's hand in hers, she smiled at the beautiful girl. "Why don't you come by for a visit another time when you are at the park?"

"That would be so cool."

"Perfect." With a wave of her hand, Indie returned, turning once to stare at the little girl now talking animatedly to her nanny. Standing at the park"s edge, she felt the familiar yearning as she stared after the little girl. Suddenly, as if she realized that Indie was still staring after her, she turned and waved her hand.

Indie waved back, her smile flashing. Turning away, she crossed the road and went back to her store.

*****

Rachel stared at her granddaughter in rebuke. "Darling, you know better than to do something like that." She had criticized the nanny for letting go of the little girl's hand in the first place.

"I"m sorry," Madison said in a subdued tone. "Does Daddy have to know?"

Biting off a sigh, Rachel reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. Royce called his assistant to say he would not be home for dinner. It was getting to be a pattern.

Her son was the CEO of a relatively successful company that employed thousands worldwide. Royce held double degrees in architecture and business as if he was still trying to impress his dad.

Nothing he had done had been good enough. James had been incredibly rough on him, criticizing his ideas and then using them behind his back while taking the credit. James St. Clair had mangled his son's self-confidence; where he had failed, Madison's mother had completed it.

"I am going to have to tell him." She told the little girl quietly.

Her lips trembled as she put her fork down and gave her grandmother an imploring look. "He is going to be so mad."

"I am still trying to understand why you left the park and went across the road by yourself. So many things could have happened to you."

"I wanted to see the store."

"Yes, darling, I know you have an inquisitive mind. I just want you to promise me that nothing like that will ever happen again."

"I promise," Madison said solemnly.

"All right. Eat up your vegetables and get ready for bed."

"When is Daddy coming home?"

"He has to work late."

"He works late a lot." She said wistfully. "I wish he would come home and read me a bedtime story."

"When he hears what you did today, you will be very grateful he will be home when you are asleep," Rachel told her dryly.

*****

Royce stifled an impatient sigh as he noticed his mother standing in the middle of the hallway leading to his suite. He wanted nothing more than to go into his bedroom, shower, and wash off the sweat and grime coating his skin.

He had spent most of his day at the site redoing the entire apartment building, which had been delayed again by lost shipments. Electrical problems were another issue.

"Mother."

"Could I have a minute?"

"Of course," he said, following her into the cream-and-gold sitting room. "I am surprised you are still up."

"I was putting the finishing touches on the guest list for Madison's birthday party." She gestured to a red and gold padded chair in one corner of the room with delicate etchings on the arms. Giving it a dubious look, he sat perched on the edge, stretching his legs out.

"I thought we were just going to keep it contained, with just us."

"Madison asked if she could have a princess theme. We cannot invite some of her friends and not invite the others."

"She is only five years old; how many friends can there be?"

"You would be surprised," Rachel said with a laugh. "Would you like something to drink?"

"What I would like is to take a shower and go to bed. What is it?"

Fiddling with the floral arrangement on the matching table, she turned to sit across from her. "I don't want you to be upset," she said.

His thick eyebrows lifted. "That statement alone is guaranteed that I will be. What has she done now?"

"You have to remember that she is just a little girl."

"Mother." His forbidding tone had her straightening her shoulders.

"She ran away from Glenna."

His frown deepened. "I am afraid you will have to clarify that for me."

Hesitantly, Rachel explained what had happened.

"She left the park and went across the street?"

"Have you fired the nanny?"

"No."

Pushing himself to his feet, he stood, weighing one hundred eighty-five pounds and six feet three inches of frightful masculinity.

"I will take care of it in the morning."

"Please sit down."

"Why? So that you can tell me how influential she is to Madison? Is the exorbitant salary we pay her plus benefits not completely wasted? Why the hell was she not holding Madison's hand?"

"She was getting ice cream, and according to Glenna, she turned away for a minute to get change from her purse-"

"And that's all it takes," Royce said, blue-gray eyes glowing. "She is a St. Clair, which means extra care is needed. She could have been snatched by some maniac and held for ransom or hit by a damn vehicle while crossing the street."

"All of those possibilities entered my mind.""And I will, of course, deal with Madison before I leave in the morning."

"All she is doing is a bid to get your attention."

Royce's eyes narrowed to slits. "You are implying that this is somehow my fault?"

"No," Rachel told him with a resigned sigh. "All I am saying is that she is vying for your attention. She asked if you were coming home in time for dinner so that you could read her a bedtime story."

She rose when it became clear that her son would not sit. "She is precocious and curious. She told me about the store she discovered across the road where the nice lady brought her back to the park.

She also said she was careful about crossing the street; she did it the way they showed her in kindergarten. She is smart, inquisitive, and just a little girl who wants her Daddy."

"I will deal with her and the nanny-"

"You are not listening!" Rachel stopped herself from stamping her feet in frustration. "She does not have her mother, and she has accepted that because that woman left when she was just a baby. She adores you and is desperate for your attention.

You cannot fire Glenna because she is a constant in Madison's life, and that woman adores her. She is broken up about what happened today and promised that it would never happen again, and I believe her."

"Then it seems that my daughter needs a firm hand. If you or her nanny are not up to providing that, I will do something about it."

Rachel stared at him in despair. "You are doing the same thing to her that your father did to you."

His body rigidified, his expression shuttered. "I was tricked into becoming a father, and I stepped up. I was reeling from the betrayal but still managed to be a father. Your husband belittled me every chance he got and destroyed my confidence. I have no intention of doing that to Madison."

"Darling-"

"No." He shook his head, feeling the weariness covering him like a cloak. "I don't want to get into an argument. I appreciate how much time you give Madison; I cannot give her now. If you need more help-"

"No." Pressing her lips together, Rachel realized she could not get through to him, at least not right now. "I am just asking you to let me deal with Glenna."

He stared at her for a minute before jerking his head curtly. "I am still going to talk with Madison," he said.

"Try not to be too hard on her."

"I am not going to tie her to the bed frame and drive spikes into her hands and feet, Mother," he told her sardonically. "Goodnight."

Lowering herself into the chair, she clasped her hands before her, her face troubled. She had allowed her dictatorial husband to get away with raising their son that way, telling herself that it had not been fear that led to her succumbing to the decision.

James St. Clair had thought that a wife's place was at her husband's side whenever there was any social gathering and that his son would be molded into his image.

He had been disappointed that Royce was not a replica of him, actually displeased that he had inherited her coloring. That was why he had changed his mind about naming him after him and gone with the name Royce.

Rachel also suspected that was why he had been extra hard on the boy as if it had been his fault that he had not inherited his sandy brown hair and gray eyes.

Rising, the memories tumbling inside her head, Rachel went to the cabinet to pour herself a glass of wine. She was trying to stay away from the sleeping aids that had been prescribed for her a few years after her marriage to James.

She had thought he was not only attractive but charming. He had fooled her into thinking he loved and would be faithful to her. She had heard the whispers but, like most women, had made the mistake of thinking she would be the one to change him.

That had not happened, and she had spent her life busy with the various charities and trying to ignore how unhappy she was in her marriage. She regretted never stepping in and standing up for her son; now, it was too late. The damage had been done. Taking the glass of wine, she went to sit on the side of her bed in thoughtful silence.

*****

"Daddy?"

Royce saw the tense look on the little girl's face and reined in his temper. The nanny had taken one look at his cold expression and made her excuse, leaving him alone with his daughter in her pink and white sitting room.

He had deliberately delayed going in early today to speak to her, and that was also pissing him off. He had pressing things to attend to and had to reschedule a meeting with the banks for later today.

"Do you know why I am here?" Looking around the pretty yet childish room, he decided against sitting on the plump sofa.

"I did something naughty." She murmured in a subdued voice. "I ran away from Glenna."

"Would you care to tell me why that happened?"

She nodded. "It's not Glenna's fault. She told me to stay next to her while she got the money for the ice cream, and I did not obey her."

"You decided to go exploring across the street, no less." Sliding his hands into the pockets of his ash gray dress pants, he lifted his brows, expression inscrutable. "What were you hoping to accomplish?"

The little girl bit her lip, her eyes glistening with tears. "I just wanted to see the store across the road," she said.

"And you did not think you could have asked your nanny to take you? Do you know what could have happened to you?"

"Grandma said that I could have been kidnapped or hit by a car."

"Precisely. Is that what you want to happen to you?"

She shook her head. "No, Daddy."

"Do I have your solemn promise that you will never do anything so stupid again?"

She shook her head vigorously, causing the dense dark hair to tumble over her shoulders. "I promise."

His eyes held hers briefly as if deciding if she meant it. "I am holding you to that." He turned to walk out of the room.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" He had his hand on the doorknob.

"I am sorry."

He nodded. "I intended to punish you, but you have learned your lesson." His eyes raked her face. "Your grandmother is planning a big bash for your birthday; please don't make me regret giving my permission."

"I will be good." She said earnestly.

With another nod, he left, closing the door behind him. Making his way down the hallway, he descended the stairs, checking the time. Striding into the dining room, he nodded to his mother and went to get coffee, dismissing the maid hovering at the sideboard.

"Have you spoken to her?"

"Yes," he said briefly, pouring coffee into his cup. "She promised not to do anything like that again. I still have some misgivings about her nanny"s capability."

Rachel had trouble sleeping last night and realized she was still exhausted. "I don't. She is truly sorry, and as I said before, she is great with Madison and firm without being scary. This is the first time something like this happened."

"And I want to believe it will be the last." His tone was implacable. "I am counting on you to make certain of that." Tossing back the coffee, he put the cup away. "I have to go. I am running late for a meeting."

"Will you be home for dinner?"

Turning at the arched doorway, he looked at her and nodded. "I will do my best," he said.

Sighing heavily, Rachel rose to get more coffee, her appetite disappearing.

*****

"You are not eating." Joshua pointed out as he dug into his premium salad. "The fries and burger not to your liking?" He asked with barely concealed dislike as he stared at her plate.

Indie rolled her eyes and deliberately picked up a crispy fry, popping it into her mouth.

"I cannot for the life of me figure out why you are so enamored by something like that."

"We all cannot be vegan like you."

"We happen to live longer." Picking up his glass, he took a sip of his lemon water.

"And you have that on excellent authority." She teased him.

"It's a scientific fact." His eyes wandered over her beautiful face. "How are you?"

"Fighting fit. The store-"

"I am referring to your personal life, Indie."

"What personal life?" She asked lightly.

"Precisely." His attractive face looked concerned. "You spend all your time at that store; it's unhealthy."

"You were the one who told me that for me to be successful, I would have to put in a lot of time."

"That was years ago when you were just starting up. Now you are up and running; it's time to get out there."

"And do what exactly?"

"Find someone you can have fun with. It does not have to be a lasting relationship. When was the last time you went out on a date?"

"I have been busy with the store." She prevaricated.

Joshua gave her a knowing look. "I am worried about you."

She laughed at that, dimples peeking out and eyes dancing. "I am not suffering from a terminal illness."

"You are thirty-two-"

"Not over the hill. I am still young."

"And beautiful. Enough to get back out there and start living. There is this online dating app-"

"Not!" She told him with another laugh. "I am old-fashioned enough to want to meet men the normal way."

Picking up his glass, he took a sip and eyed her. "Online dating was invented for busy people on the move and who have no time to weed out the undesirables. Don't bash it."

"I am not," She shook her head as she took up another fry. "I am just saying it's not for me. Now, can we talk about the real reason we are having lunch? You told me you spoke to the bank about getting a loan for the second store. You also said you will think about it and whether or not it's viable."

He eyed her briefly before reluctantly veering away from the topic. "I brought some prospectus and market research." Reaching into his briefcase, he pulled a sheaf of papers and handed them to her. "I am still wary about you opening another store."

"Typical accountant." She flashed him a grin. "Always overly cautious."

"Which has served you well in the past."

"It certainly has." Leafing through the document, she wrinkled her nose at the long line of figures and had to admit that it was as thorough, which was her brother's trademark. "Mine to keep?"

"Yes." Glancing at his expensive watch, he shook his head. "I have a client coming in," he said.

"Thanks, darling." Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek. "I will read it over when I get home."