The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection

CHAPTER NINE

DYLAN PUT THE phone down and leaned back against his chair, his eyes closed.

This was potentially a huge deal.

And it came with an equally huge sticking point: the client was a family man who liked to work with people who had the same outlook on life.

Strictly speaking, Dylan wasn’t a family man. He was an almost-divorcee who happened to have co-guardianship of his godson. His marriage breakdown would certainly count against him; and his arrangement with Emmy was hardly conventional.

Could he ask her to help him out?

After all, he’d helped her when she’d needed it. And she had offered...

He thought about buying her flowers, but that would be manipulative and tacky. No, he’d just ask her once Tyler was in bed. Talk it over with her. And maybe she’d have a creative way round the situation—because Emmy definitely had a different take on life from his.

It helped a bit that it was his turn to cook that night. And he totally appreciated now why she’d tried to cook the monkfish. Except he played it safe, with pasta. ‘Emmy, can I ask you a favour?’ he asked over dinner.

‘Sure. What?’

‘I’ve put in a tender for a project.’

She looked thoughtful. ‘So you’re going to be working longer hours and need me to pick up the slack for a bit? That’s fine, because you did exactly that for me. Of course I’ll do it.’

He grimaced. ‘Not exactly. I’m learning to delegate, so I don’t need you to pick up the slack. Anyway, I haven’t got the deal yet.’

She frowned. ‘So if you don’t need me to take over from you, what’s the favour, then?’

This was the biggie. ‘The client. He’s a family man. He likes to work with—well, people who have the same outlook.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t that discrimination?’

‘It would be, if he was employing me,’ Dylan agreed, ‘but this is different. It’s a project and my company’s put in a bid for it, so the client can choose his contractor however he likes.’

‘And you want him to think you’re a family man?’ She looked wary. ‘Dylan, this is a seriously bad idea. You’re not a family man.’

‘I’m Tyler’s co-guardian, so technically that makes me a family man.’

‘But you and I...’ Her voice faded and she looked slightly shocked. ‘Oh, no. Please tell me you’re not expecting me to lie for you and pretend that you and I are an item?’

‘I’m not expecting you to lie. Just...’ How could he put this nicely? ‘Just fudge the issue a little.’

She shook her head. ‘It’ll backfire. When he realises you lied—and he will realise, if you get the contract and he works with you—then he’ll have no faith in you. Professionally as well as personally. Which will be a disaster for your business.’

He folded his arms. ‘What happened to looking out for each other?’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I am looking out for you, Dylan. This isn’t the best way forward, and you know I’m right.’

There wasn’t much he could say to that, so he remained silent.

‘But,’ she said, ‘I’ll help you. Invite him round to dinner. I’ll cook.’

He looked at her. ‘Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ll pass on that one.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re not going to let me forget that monkfish, are you?’

‘It was pretty bad,’ he said. ‘Not that I could do any better myself. Which is why I think inviting him to dinner’s a bad idea. The kitchen isn’t my forte or yours.’ He frowned. ‘Though I suppose I could buy something from the supermarket that I just have to put in the oven and heat through.’ His frown deepened. ‘But could I ask you to do the table setting, please?’

She gave him a sidelong look. ‘Because I’m a girl?’

‘No. Because you have an artist’s eye and you’re good at that sort of thing,’ he corrected.

* * *

He’d actually paid her a compliment. A genuine one. And Emmy was surprised by how warm it made her feel.

‘Of course I’ll do the table setting. But this meal needs to be home-cooked if you invite him round. We can’t just give him a ready meal from the supermarket.’ She thought for a moment. ‘OK. If he’s a family man, invite his wife and kids. We’ll make it a family meal.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘So what are you planning? Are you going to talk your mum into cooking for us?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t need to. We’ll keep it simple. Something like...hmm. A roast dinner.’

He grimaced. ‘I remember the student house I shared with Pete. The four of us made our first Christmas dinner and the turkey wasn’t properly cooked. We were all ill for three days afterwards.’

‘This isn’t a student house. And I’ll ask my mum about timings so it won’t go wrong. How old are his kids?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Find out.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘Actually, if they’re little, they won’t have the patience for a starter, and if they’re teens they probably won’t want to come anyway. So we’ll skip the starter. We can do a roast dinner for the main, and fresh fruit salad and ice cream for dessert. We’re both working and we’re looking after Tyler, so it’s OK to take the odd short cut.’

‘But you’ll be there at the table, won’t you? You’re not just going to be in the kitchen?’

‘Why, Dylan, anyone would think you wanted me there,’ she teased.

He gave her a speaking look. ‘All right. You can have your pound of flesh. I want you there. You have good social skills.’

‘Thank you.’ She grinned and punched his arm. ‘And yours are a bit better than they were. Go and ring him. Find out if there’s anything they can’t eat—either because of allergies or because they hate it. And we definitely need to know if anyone’s vegetarian.’

‘Because then we’ll have to rethink the menu?’

‘Because then dinner will be pasta,’ she said. ‘We can both cook that. And we’ll serve it with garlic bread and salad. Simple and homely.’

* * *

Dylan rang his potential client the next morning, and then rang Emmy. ‘It’ll be just Ted Burroughs and his wife. You were right about the kids—they’re teens, and he says they’ll pass on the invite.’ He smiled. ‘Mind you, he has girls. If I’d said I live with a top jewellery designer...’

‘No, they would’ve been bored with the conversation, so it’s better that they don’t come,’ Emmy said. ‘What about the food?’

‘No allergies, and he appreciated you asking.’ He paused. ‘I appreciate you, too. I wouldn’t have thought of that.’

‘Which is because,’ she said, ‘you only have one X chromosome.’

‘That’s so sexist.’

She laughed. ‘Bite me, Dylan.’

She was adorable in this playful mood.

Then Dylan caught his thoughts and was shocked at the fact he’d used the word ‘adorable’ about her. What was happening? Emmy Jacobs was his co-guardian, and that was all.

The kisses and the hand-holding in the taxi had been...well, mistakes.

Even if he did want to repeat them.

Even if a little, secret part of him thought that yes, he’d like to be partners with Emmy in more than just sharing Tyler’s care.

‘See you later,’ he said. ‘And thanks.’

* * *

The day of the dinner arrived, and Dylan made sure that he was home early to help. Emmy had already set the dining room table with candles, fresh flowers, a damask tablecloth and silverware, and the chicken was in the oven.

‘Is there anything you need me to do?’ he asked.

‘Make a start on peeling the potatoes?’ she suggested.

He did so, and noticed that there was a list held onto the fridge with a magnet. ‘What’s this?’

‘The timing plan for dinner,’ she said. ‘And I’m using the oven timer to make sure I don’t miss anything.’

She definitely looked strained, he thought. ‘Stop worrying. I’m sure it will be fine.’

‘That’s not what you said when I first suggested cooking a roast dinner.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘OK, O Wise One. You were right and you know better than I do.’

‘I hope so.’ Though she didn’t sound convinced.

‘So you got the timings from a book?’ he asked.

‘Better than that—Mum helped. She did offer to come and cook for us, but I thought that’d be cheating.’

Would it? he wondered.

She’d obviously caught the expression on his face just before he masked it, because she sighed. ‘You think I should’ve taken her up on the offer, don’t you?’

‘No, I’m sure all will be just fine.’ He finished peeling the potatoes. ‘Do you want me to make the fruit salad?’

‘It’s already done so the flavours can mingle.’ Almost on cue, there was the sound of gurgling and cooing from the baby listener. She smiled. ‘It sounds like someone’s just woken. Go and play with Tyler—you’re getting under my feet and being annoying.’ She shooed him out of the kitchen, though he was careful to make sure that she really didn’t need any help before he agreed to go.

He spent some time playing with the baby. Again it surprised him just how much he was enjoying this domestic set-up. He’d never thought a family was for him; or maybe Nadine just hadn’t been the right person for him to have a family with. He pushed away the thought that maybe Emmy was the right one. He knew she had issues about relationships, and he wasn’t sure how it could work between them. They couldn’t risk fracturing Tyler’s world again.

* * *

Emmy ticked off everything she’d done on her list, checked the list a second time in case she’d missed anything, and then did a final read-through just to be absolutely certain.

Everything was ready, as far as it could be. Barring having to rescue everything from a last-minute catastrophe in the kitchen—and she hoped she’d done enough planning to avoid that—there was nothing else to do.

She changed into a simple black dress and some of her more delicate jewellery, and adopted the ‘less is more’ principle when it came to her make-up. She stared at herself critically in the mirror. How many of her ex-boyfriends hadn’t been happy with the way she looked? The colour of her hair, the fact that it rarely stayed the same colour for more than a couple of months at a time, the way she dressed...

She took a deep breath. Dylan wasn’t her boyfriend, and she looked just fine. Professional. Competent.

All the same, when she came back down into the kitchen, she grabbed an apron, just in case she spilled anything over herself while she was cooking.

Dylan was already there, feeding Tyler in his high chair. The baby beamed and banged his hands on his tray when he saw her.

‘Hello, Gorgeous. Is Uncle Dylan in charge of dinner tonight?’

‘Dih-dih.’ Tyler gurgled with pleasure—and bits of carrot sprayed all over Dylan’s shirt.

‘Oops. Sorry,’ she said.

He flapped a dismissive hand, then grinned.

‘What?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘If anyone had ever told me I’d see you wearing an apron, looking all domestic...’

‘Oh, ha ha.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Ty, make sure you spit more carrot at him.’

Dylan just laughed. ‘We’re about done here. I’ll sort out bath and bed. Is there anything else you need?’

‘No—I’m fine. And you’d better change, Dylan—you’ve got mashed carrot on your shirt.’

‘I guess so.’

* * *

It wasn’t that long ago that Dylan had been so formal and stuffy that even his jeans were ironed and his T-shirts were pristine and white. He’d unbent an awful lot if he wasn’t that fussed about mashed carrot on one of his work shirts, Emmy thought, especially as she knew carrot could stain.

She fussed around downstairs while Dylan sorted out Tyler’s bath and bedtime, and changed his shirt. And then the doorbell went, and her stomach went into knots. This deal could mean as much for Dylan’s business as the magazine thing meant for hers so she really couldn’t afford to mess things up tonight. If the veg wasn’t cooked enough or, worse, cooked to a mush...

Breathe, she told herself. Everything’s going to be just fine. You’ve used the timer and ticked everything off the list. It’s not going to let you down and you’re not going to let Dylan down.

Dylan answered the door; she stayed in the kitchen for just a little longer, nerving herself, then came out to meet their guests.

‘Emmy, this is Ted and Elaine Burroughs—Ted and Elaine, this is Emmy Jacobs,’ Dylan introduced them.

‘Delighted to meet you. Thank you for having us,’ Ted said, and shook her hand warmly.

Emmy was horribly aware that she was still wearing her apron. So much for being sophisticated. ‘Um, sorry, I hope you’ll excuse...’ She indicated the apron with an embarrassed grimace.

‘Of course,’ Ted said.

‘So how long have you been together?’ Elaine asked.

Emmy and Dylan exchanged a glance.

Be honest, she willed him. Tell them the truth, or it’ll come back to bite you.

‘We’re not actually a couple, as such,’ Dylan said. ‘We share a house. And we’re also co-guardians of Tyler, our best friends’ son—they were killed in a car crash three months ago. They’d asked us both to look after Tyler if anything happened to them. So here we are.’

‘So you moved out of your own homes and in here together?’ Elaine asked.

‘It was the best thing for Tyler,’ Emmy said. ‘He needed to be somewhere familiar.’

‘Plus my flat in Docklands wasn’t really baby-friendly,’ Dylan added.

‘And mine in Camden was only big enough for me, not for the three of us,’ Emmy explained.

‘That must have been hard for you,’ Ted said, his face full of sympathy.

‘We’ve been thrown in a bit at the deep end,’ Emmy said, ‘but we’re managing. I should tell you now that dinner’s not totally a home-made thing. I’m afraid we cheated and bought the gravy and the ice cream, but I hope you’ll forgive us for that.’

‘My dear, it’s very kind of you to invite us over—especially given your circumstances,’ Elaine said.

‘We support each other,’ Emmy said. ‘Sometimes Dylan has a late meeting and needs me to pick up the slack, and sometimes I have a rush on at work and need him to hold the fort for me.’ She exchanged a glance with him. ‘And he’s better than I am at getting Ty to sleep. He sings better.’

‘That always worked with our two,’ Elaine said with a smile.

‘Would you excuse me?’ Emmy asked. ‘I need to check on the veg. Dylan, can you—’

‘—sort the drinks?’ he finished. ‘Sure. Would you like to come through to the dining room, Elaine and Ted?’

He sorted out the drinks while she did the last-minute things in the kitchen. She was putting the vegetables in serving dishes when she overheard Elaine complimenting the table setting.

‘That’s all down to Emmy,’ Dylan said. ‘She has an artist’s eye. You should see her jewellery—it’s amazing, so delicate and pretty.’

It warmed her to know he was being absolutely serious. Dylan never gushed.

She brought the serving dishes and warmed plates through, and Dylan carved the chicken.

To her relief, the food seemed to go down well. The vegetables were fine—not too hard or too soft—and she’d managed to get the potatoes crispy on the outside and fluffy inside, thanks to her mother’s instructions.

‘Dylan tells us you’re a jeweller,’ Elaine said. ‘Our eldest daughter is about to turn sixteen, and I know she’d like some jewellery for her birthday. Could you make some for her?’

‘Sure,’ Emmy said. ‘Most of the stuff on my website is either in stock or won’t take long to make, or I could design something especially for her.’

‘Why don’t you show Elaine the pieces you made for the magazine?’ Dylan suggested. ‘Or is that embargoed?’

‘Officially it’s embargoed,’ Emmy confirmed, ‘but I guess it’s OK for you to see the photographs I took. Excuse me a second?’ She grabbed her phone from her bag, and showed Elaine the photographs.

‘That really delicate stuff—that’s so Claire. She’d love something like that,’ Elaine said.

‘Do you want it to be a surprise? If not, you could bring Claire over and I can talk to her about what she’d really like, and design it for her there and then.’ Emmy smiled. ‘Actually, why don’t you do that and we can make it a really girly session? It’ll make her feel special to have something designed just for her.’ She put a hand on Dylan’s arm. ‘Sorry, this wasn’t meant to be about my business tonight. I didn’t mean to take over.’

He smiled. ‘You weren’t taking over. I just think what you make is really amazing. She does these jet carvings as well, little animals. She made me a fantastic bear.’

‘Teddy?’ Ted asked with a grin.

Dylan laughed back. ‘Ah, no. It’s a grizzly. She was making a point,’ Dylan said.

‘You’re lucky I didn’t make you a rhino,’ she teased.

‘A rhino?’ Elaine looked mystified.

‘Because she says I have the same level of social skills as a rhino,’ Dylan explained. ‘I guess it goes with being good at maths.’

‘You’re a total geek,’ she said, but her tone was affectionate.

She cleared the table and brought out the fruit salad; she’d bought thin heart-shaped shortbread from the deli and vanilla ice cream to go with it.

‘Pineapple, raspberries, kiwi and pomegranate,’ Elaine said as she looked at the bowl. ‘How lovely. I’d never thought of making a fruit salad like that. You really are good in the kitchen.’

‘Not always,’ Emmy confessed. ‘I tried making monkfish in parma ham a few weeks back, and it was absolutely terrible. That’s why we decided to cook a roast dinner tonight, because it’s much simpler and less likely to go wrong. And I still had to call my mum for the timings and instructions on the roast potatoes.’

‘You did her proud, love,’ Ted said.

Emmy found herself relaxing now that the trickiest part of the meal was over. But then Tyler woke, and they could all hear him crying on the baby listener.

‘I’ll go,’ Emmy said.

‘No, it’s my shift,’ Dylan said.

‘Not anymore,’ she corrected him. ‘I put a sticky note on the board so it’s my shift. You stay with our guests.’ She realised her slip almost immediately, but hoped she hadn’t messed it up. It had felt so natural to call the Burroughses ‘our’ guests rather than ‘your’.

‘I’d love to see the baby,’ Elaine said wistfully. ‘But I guess you can’t bring him down as it’ll put him out of his routine.’

‘You can come up to the nursery with me, if you like,’ she offered impulsively, and Elaine beamed.

‘I’d love to.’

And maybe this would give Dylan and Ted the chance to discuss business, Emmy thought.

Elaine clearly loved having the chance to cuddle a baby. ‘How old is he?’

‘Seven months, now.’

‘You forget how cute they are at this age. He’ll be crawling, next.’

‘And we’ll have baby gates all over the place,’ Emmy said with a smile.

She settled the baby down in his cot again, and put his light show on.

‘It’s very sad about your friends,’ Elaine said, ‘and it must be difficult for you. How are you both coping?’

‘It was pretty tough at first,’ Emmy admitted. ‘Dylan wasn’t a very hands-on godfather when Tyler was really tiny. I guess he was waiting to do all the stuff like kicking a ball round in the park, going to the boating lake, and helping teach him to ride a bike—stuff I wouldn’t do as a godmother, because I’d rather take him swimming or to baby music classes. But we’ve muddled through together for the last three months, and it helps that we take alternate night shifts.’ She blew out a breath. ‘It means we each manage to get one good night’s sleep out of two. I have no idea how my best friend coped the way she did. She always looked fresh as a daisy, even if the baby had been up half a dozen times in the night.’

‘You must miss her,’ Elaine said.

‘I do—and Dylan really misses Pete. They were the nearest we had to a brother and sister.’

‘But Dylan helps you now.’

Emmy nodded. ‘He’s been brilliant. Actually, he’s helped right from the start, even though he’s never had anything to do with babies before and was obviously scared to death that he’d do something wrong and hurt the baby. He’s never just left me to deal with everything; he’s always done his fair share, even if it involves dirty nappies or having stuff dribbled all over him. He’s stubborn and sometimes he comes across as a bit closed off or he says totally the wrong thing, but his heart’s in the right place and he thinks things through properly.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t tell him I said this, but when we do argue he’s usually right.’

Elaine smiled back. ‘He sounds like my Ted.’

Emmy checked the cot once more; satisfied that Tyler had settled again, she ushered Elaine back downstairs to the dining room. She made coffee and brought in the posh chocolate truffles she’d found in the deli, and helped Dylan make small talk until the Burroughses finally left.

Dylan helped her clear up. ‘By the way, do you know the baby listener was still on when you were upstairs with Elaine?’

Emmy looked at him, horrified. ‘You’re kidding!’

He shook his head.

‘How much did you hear?’ she demanded.

‘Let me think.’ He spread his hands. ‘That would be...’ He met her gaze. ‘All of it.’

She closed her eyes briefly. Obviously she’d wrecked everything, because she just hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut. ‘I’m so sorry, Dylan. Ted must’ve thought...’ She bit her lip.

‘He was laughing.’ Dylan’s eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Especially at the bit when you said I’m usually right. And I hope you realise I have every intention of using that one against you in the future.’

She knew that was an attempt to stop her worrying, and ignored it. ‘I just hope I haven’t screwed up the deal for you.’

‘I think,’ he said, ‘you showed Ted what he wanted to know. That I’m not just this efficient machine.’

‘Well, you’re that as well.’

Dylan raised an eyebrow. ‘Thank you. If that was meant to be a compliment.’

‘A backhanded one,’ she confirmed.

He smiled at her. ‘That’s what I like about you. You never sugar-coat stuff.’

‘There’s no point. I’ve had it with charm.’

‘Ouch.’ He looked serious. ‘Want to talk about it?’

‘We already have. I told you I had rubbish taste in men. That’s just another example. I fall for the charm every time—hook, line and sinker.’

He reached over and stroked her cheek, and every nerve-end in her skin zinged. ‘Something I should tell you. You’re usually right, too, when we argue. You make me think things through in a different way. And that’s a good thing.’

‘Think outside the regular tetrahedron?’ she asked

‘There’s absolutely nothing regular tetrahedron about you, Emmy.’

‘Thank you. If that was meant to be a compliment,’ she threw back at him.

His eyes crinkled at the corners again. And how ridiculous that it made her heart skip a beat.

‘It was. And thank you for your help. You might just have made the difference.’ He looked at her mouth. ‘Emmy. You were brilliant, tonight.’ His voice deepened, grew huskier. And then he leaned forward and pressed the lightest, sweetest kiss against her lips.

It was anatomically impossible, but he made her feel as if her heart had just turned over. How could she help herself resting her palm against his cheek, feeling the faint prickle of stubble against her fingertips? Especially when his hands slid down her sides, resting lightly against her hips as he drew her closer.

Then she panicked. She couldn’t feel like this about Dylan. She just couldn’t. She took a step back. ‘We...’

‘Yeah. I know. Sorry.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘That didn’t happen.’

‘No. It was just adrenaline, because we were both panicking about dinner.’

‘Absolutely,’ he said as she took another step back. ‘I’ll finish up in here. You go and...’ He blew out a breath. ‘Whatever. I’ll see you later.’

She took the hint and made herself scarce. Before she did something really stupid, like kissing him again.