The Child Comes First (11 page)

Silently, Jayda thought, “You don't know the half of it,” but aloud, she replied, “I'm doing my job as guardian ad litem and honoring my promises to help this foster mother who took on a kid charged with murder.”

Marla let out a skeptical sigh. “I know there's more to it than that. I can hear it in your voice. You're hooked on the lawyer, aren't you?”

“Are you my boss or my mother?” Jayda regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. She knew she shouldn't talk to her superior that way. Rubbing her forehead, she wished she could retract her remark. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“I'm not your mother. But I see you slipping into this situation with Tiffany and her attorney, and I want to shake some sense into you. Look what happened to me. Nothing good comes of a relationship with a client.”

“Please don't replace me with someone else. That would convict Tiffany before the case even goes to the jury.”

Marla sighed into the phone. “You're on extremely thin ice, Jayda. I can't make any promises right now. I'll have to review the situation and do what's right for Tiffany—and for you as a member of my staff.”

Jayda could find no words.

Marla added, “Go home now and get some sleep, so you'll have something to give your other cases tomorrow. I'll square the monitor issue.”

“Thank you,” Jayda managed to say. Her job might be in jeopardy, but Marla was there to help with the ELMO problem in the middle of the night, so gratitude seemed appropriate. Jayda closed her phone and wished she could let herself fall apart. Pressure seemed to be coming from all sides, including her own insides, where desire warred with fear. And Simon Montgomery, the tough ambitious lawyer who didn't seem to care that adopting a kid would change his life completely…This man tugged on her heart and libido in equal measure. But she couldn't let herself cry or scream or do any of the other things that might relieve some of the strain. Her presence here wouldn't be worth much if she did. So she gave herself a moment to regroup and then headed back to Simon and Tiffany and Barbara.

As Tiffany slept against Simon's shoulder, Barbara and her son stared inquiringly at Jayda. She waved her hand toward Tiffany's ankle. “The ELMO went off. We forgot to call the monitoring company, but my boss is going to take care of it.”

“What else?” Simon asked.

Jayda didn't understand how he could know that something else was wrong, but she was too tired to think of a way to dismiss his question. “She wanted to know why I'm here with you. She's worried I'm getting too close.”

“Are you?” he asked with a glint in his eye.

“She thinks I'm getting too close to Tiffany,” she clarified.

He gave her a nod and looked down at the child asleep in his arms. “She's the kind of kid who gets into your heart.” Tiffany stirred and gave a little moan. Concern flooded Simon's face and he shifted the girl into a more comfortable position.

Jayda wondered what would happen if Marla could see her now or look into her thoughts. Because watching him take such gentle care of Tiffany made her ache with tenderness for the man. She wondered if this taste of the downside of parenting would persuade him to give up on trying to adopt Tiffany, but she suspected the ER visit wouldn't dissuade him. He was stronger than that. And far more caring than she'd have thought when they'd first met.

A woman called for Tiffany to be brought to an examination room. All three adults got up, Simon carrying Tiffany, but then Jayda hesitated. She wasn't Tiffany's caregiver, only her social worker.

“I'll stay here. If you need anything, just come and tell me,” she offered.

Barbara and Simon trooped through an automatic door with Tiffany and Jayda stood for another moment, feeling bereft and wondering if Marla might not be correct about the dangers of bonding with a client.

But just when she'd seated herself again, prepared to wait it out with the Montgomerys in the hope of being of use as the night wore on, Simon came back to the waiting area looking like a storm cloud. He was empty-handed and obviously furious.

“They sent me out,” he growled. His voice was ominously low. Jayda could feel the fury emanating from him as he approached her. “I'm nothing but her lawyer, not a relative or caregiver of any kind, at least in their eyes. My mother has to go it alone. They wouldn't let me stay, even to support my mom. Patient confidentiality, they said.”

“I'm sorry,” Jayda said, although she knew her sympathy wouldn't help. “Let's go over here for a moment.” She led him to an alcove where they could have a little privacy. The lights outside were nearly as bright as daylight. An air conditioner hummed softly above their heads. “Your mother will be fine, and so will Tiffany,” she told him.

“But I should be in there with them,” he snapped. “I do almost as much of the care-giving as my mother does these days.” He paused and glared at the parking lot. “When I left, Tiffany begged me not to go. She reached out for me and started to cry.”

Jayda ached for him. “She sees you as a parent.” Left unsaid in this difficult moment was the concern she'd already raised. Tiffany was too attached to him and she had unrealistic expectations concerning his role in her life, wanted more from him than he would be able to give.

Simon remained silent, staring out into the night. Jayda could feel him withdrawing, putting up walls, trying to go it alone—as was his nature, she'd come to realize. But then he opened up, just a little.

“I'm going to talk to Tiffany—make sure she agrees—then file the documents to adopt her. I don't care how long it takes or how hard everyone makes it for me. We have a bond, the two of us. I plan to make that bond official.”

Jayda sighed and stared at her feet. Clearly, this hospital incident hadn't dissuaded him from wanting to become a parent. In fact, it'd had the opposite effect. All at once, she understood that this hospital experience had changed
her
mind rather than his. If she couldn't talk him out of it and if Simon applied for the adoption, she would have to do everything in her power to help him. Despite her belief that he wouldn't be approved, supporting his attempt would be the right thing to do. Tiffany deserved a father like Simon.

“You're a good man, Simon,” she said. “There aren't many like you.”

He looked at her as if this response stunned him. Then he gave her a sloppy half smile, and his eyes went soft. “That's good to hear from you,” he said. Reaching out, he pulled her to him, hugging her close without holding her too tightly.

Her first reaction was one of gladness that he'd reached out to her physically. And she realized she could relax in his embrace—she didn't feel threatened in the least. He rested his chin on the top of her head and simply held her. She liked that. A lot. There were no expectations here, no sense that this was the prelude to something more intimate. They just leaned against each other, sharing strength. Jayda could hear Simon's heartbeat as she pressed an ear against his chest. It sounded strong and reliable. She thought perhaps she could get used to listening to it.

For the first time in her adult life, she began to realize it might be nice to have another person upon whom she could rely. Someone who would equally rely on her. Now she began to see why women longed to find a man like Simon to love them. For once, she had a sense of that same longing.

But Simon was the wrong man. Tiffany's lawyer was the last person Jayda should be yearning for. She'd worked hard to shake herself loose from her past, and being with Simon reminded her of it too frequently. While she could stand with him for now and help him through this frightening, frustrating night, she would have to dismiss the fantasies about there ever being anything more between them. Those were the rules of her life, the ones that allowed her to pretend she was normal.

 

S
IMON MANAGED TO PERSUADE
the judge to suspend the trial for a week while Tiffany recovered from the stomach flu that had taken her small body by storm. She'd spent a day in the hospital, and then she'd been sent home with instructions to remain in bed, drinking lots of fluids to re-hydrate. It had seemed like a miracle that Simon's mother hadn't succumbed to the illness, as well. He'd discovered that Jayda was like him and almost never got sick.

But it hadn't been an idle week for any of the adults. Though Jayda had come out to the house to visit several times, she'd also had to go to work and try to find the time to track down more information on the mysterious man who'd been in Tiffany's neighborhood just before Derek's death. Simon had put in some time on his other cases.

He'd also talked to Tiffany about making the two of them into a family.

“What would you think of me putting in the papers to adopt you?” he'd asked her one afternoon. He'd just finished reading aloud to her as she snuggled in her bed, still recovering.

Tiffany grinned widely. Yet her gaze held a hint of wariness—as if she couldn't quite accept what he'd said. “I…I…” she stammered, at a loss for words for the first time since he'd met her.

“I can't promise Social Services will approve—I'm not exactly ideal father material. But I'd like to try. If you want me to.”

The shine that came to her eyes spoke volumes about how she felt. “What if I'm convicted?” she asked.

He shifted to sit on the edge of her bed and captured her gaze. “I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure that doesn't happen. And no matter what, I'd like your permission to make you my daughter.”

A tear slipped from one of her luminous brown eyes. “I think you'd make the best dad ever for a kid like me,” she whispered and she sat up to wrap her small arms around his neck, administering one of her world-famous hugs. “I would try hard to be a good daughter,” she added softly.

Was she afraid fate would snatch this chance away if she spoke of it too loudly? As he hugged her back, he found himself hoping she'd learn that fate wouldn't be that cruel—to either of them.

Then there'd been the talk he'd had with the partners at his law firm, who'd expressed concern about the time he was spending on Tiffany's case, at the expense of his paying clients.

Glen Boyden had set the tone for that meeting, taking some of the wind out of Renauld Canter's sails. “How are things going, Simon? Keeping up with your caseload?”

“Yes,” Simon answered, even though he knew a few things had slipped through the cracks as he focused on Tiffany's trial. “Craig Dremmel seems pleased.” This was to remind the partners that he was the one who had brought that hugely wealthy client to the firm.

“If everything is under control, Mr. Montgomery, why have I been receiving complaints about you not showing up for meetings or returning calls?” Canter glared at him. “Your secretary can't answer legal questions, and you're never in your office anymore. Nor are you reachable by phone.”

He gave his nemesis a cold stare. “I've been in court.” But it was true he'd missed some critical meetings recently, to his secretary's horror. Denise had been stunned when he'd asked her to reschedule clients on the day Tiffany had been in the hospital. He hadn't even considered leaving Tiffany and his mother there alone. And he'd been allowed to remain in the hospital room with her, once she'd been admitted.

Canter's voice rose a few notes. “On the pro bono case, wasting valuable attorney time on a client who won't be paying a dime.”

“That's right. And I believe it was your case to begin with. One of your two pro bono cases for the year. But you weren't available and you passed it over to me. Was I misinformed about your wish for me to take this on as a favor to you?”

Glen piped up. He'd been a lawyer for forty years, and now that he ran the place he'd lost his taste for pissing contests among the members of the firm. “I asked Simon here just to see how things were going.” He turned to Simon. “I'm sure you'd let us know if you had any scheduling issues or problems with your workload.”

“Everything is going fine,” he lied. But things were not fine. Now that he'd decided to adopt Tiffany, he realized some practical changes would be necessary. He would need a different place to live, for one thing. If he had a home more suitable for a family, that might stand in his favor with Social Services. Living with his mother wasn't the answer. He had to demonstrate that he could deal with Tiffany alone, father to daughter. How would he do that if he continued to log his usual hours at work? He couldn't. His dreams of making partner were in direct conflict with the consuming need to keep Tiffany safe, to provide her the home she deserved.

It was all Simon could do to leave the office suite without giving Renauld Canter the evil eye or the universal gesture for “up yours.” But instead he left composedly, head high. He tried not to think about the hours he'd be spending on Tiffany's case in the days ahead, how many paying clients he'd have to reschedule, how difficult it was going to be for Denise to cover for him with the partners. His days might very well be numbered with this law firm unless he could figure out how to be in two places at once for the next few weeks.