About the Baby. Tracy Wolff

About the Baby - Tracy  Wolff


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that the truth?” He heard the harsh edge of sarcasm in his voice, and tried to smooth it out. “They throw magnificent parties.”

      The knowing look Kara sent him told him he hadn’t quite managed it. That was the problem with best friends—they’d been around long enough to know your dirty family laundry whether you liked it or not.

      “I think they’ve done a wonderful job,” she told him. “The ballroom looks gorgeous and the turnout is huge. You guys are going to make a bundle for the clinic.”

      “I hope so. Amanda’s worked so hard on it that I’d hate to see it fail.” Especially since she’d spent all her free time organizing the benefit when she should have been concentrating on her new marriage to Simon and impending motherhood.

      “It won’t fail,” Kara reassured him. “You guys are amazing, and everyone here—especially the ones with deep pockets—has figured that out.”

      She reached for her champagne and quickly downed it. Then shot him the mischievous look that had first gotten his attention all those years ago. “Last chance to duck out before we head back into the ballroom and get swallowed by the legion of Dr. Montgomery fans. And, as extra incentive, if you leave with me now, I promise to buy you the biggest and best piece of apple pie in Atlanta. There’s this great diner right down the street, but they close at one, so if we’re going to go, we need to hustle.”

      Thinking she was joking, he started to refuse a second time. But when he looked at her, really looked at her, he saw. There was something wrong, something in her eyes that said she needed a shoulder to cry on. His had been her shoulder of choice since they’d met in the freshman dorms seventeen years before—and vice versa. It wasn’t like he could turn her away and he didn’t want to. Kara so rarely needed comforting, or anything else, from him. The fact that she needed it now—that she had so obviously sought him out—worried him enough to have him shifting his priorities.

      “So, if we were to attempt an escape,” he said, kneeling down to slide her shoe back onto her foot, “what do you think our best way out of here is?”

      Her eyes lit up. “Really? You want to leave?”

      “Darlin’, I’ve wanted to break out of here since two seconds after I arrived. You’re just the impetus I’ve been waiting for.”

      Obviously afraid he’d change his mind if she let him think about it too long, Kara jumped to her feet. “Let’s go, then. I’ve got the escape route all planned out. Simon has Amanda resting at a table near the ballroom entrance where they can bid everyone good-night. They’re dealing with a steady stream of doctors, socialites and news people alike and they’re fielding questions about the baby, so they should be occupied for quite some time.

      “Jack and Sophie are dancing—he can’t keep his eyes—or his hands—off her. And your mom and sisters, along with their dates, are still holding court in the center of the room.” She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the edge of the terrace. “And can I just say, go Mom! She’s with Nicholas Vega, newsman extraordinaire. He’s hanging on her every word.”

      “Of course he is. She’s laying on the famous Montgomery charm. Her latest lover got wise and dropped her a couple of weeks ago so she’s on the prowl for a new bank account. This benefit is a perfect opportunity for her to close the deal.”

      Kara laid a hand on his shoulder, and for a second he tensed, expecting her to say the same things his sisters did. That he was being too tough on Candy. That he needed to try to be more understanding. That he should cut her a break once in a while.

      But this was Kara, who knew him better than anybody, and all she said was, “Rough couple of months with your mom, huh?”

      He snorted. “More like a rough couple of decades, don’t you think?”

      He knew he sounded cynical, but it was hard to be anything else when it came to his mother. In the years since his dad had died, she’d run through the very significant portfolio he’d left for her and now counted on Lucas or whatever man she was currently dating to take care of her.

      After ten years and twice as many rich lovers, he’d given up expecting her to change. Of course, he’d also given up “cutting her a break.” If that made him a bastard, then he was willing to live with it—even if his sisters couldn’t.

      Turning to Kara, he switched the focus back where it belonged. “So, how exactly does this escape plan of yours begin?”

      * * *

      KARAWATCHEDAS LUCAS’S eyes went cold and hard at the mention of his mother. Not that she blamed him. Most of the time, she wanted to shake some sense into Candy Montgomery herself and she wasn’t even related to the woman. She could only imagine how bad it was for Lucas, control freak extraordinaire and the most dependable man she’d ever met, to be saddled with a mother who not only wouldn’t be controlled, but who was completely undependable.

      As they scooted around the terrace, she glanced through the ballroom windows and saw his mother doing what she did best—telling an animated story to a gaggle of admirers. She was beautiful and glittery and obviously in her element as the center of attention at a benefit that should be all about her son. Not that anyone who knew her would be surprised.

      What was surprising, at least to Kara, was how two people who looked so alike could be such different people. Both Lucas and his mother were absolutely stunning, with classically beautiful faces, piercing blue eyes and dark ebony hair. Lucas wore it too long and his mom wore it in a short, gamine cut that showed off her gorgeous bone structure and ageless skin. And though Lucas, at six foot four, stood about eight inches taller than his mother, they both had long, lean bodies and an innate sense of grace that drew gazes to them wherever they went.

      Yet that was where the resemblance ended. Candy Montgomery was simpering, flighty and completely irresponsible. Oh, she was sweet—and as charming as the rest of Lucas’s family—but she lived in a dream world. Which would be fine, except for the fact that Lucas’s father had taught his son at an early age that he was the responsible one, the one whose job it was to take care of his mom and sisters if anything happened to Lucas, Sr. It was a responsibility he’d taken seriously for the ten years since his father had died, one that required he bail his mom and sisters out of whatever trouble they got themselves into. Which was a significant amount of trouble.

      Lucas never complained, and she never brought it up, but after seventeen years of watching his mother and sisters taking financial and emotional advantage of him, Kara wanted to tell them all to grow up. They were adults and it was no longer his job to take care of them. But she refused to give Lucas her opinion on it unless he asked—the last thing she wanted to do was cause him more stress.

      Kara saw Candy start to scan the crowd, as if she was looking for someone. It was probably time to show off her son. Kara reached out and shoved Lucas, hard. Completely unprepared for the push, he stumbled back a few steps—just enough to be hidden from view by a giant column, exactly as she’d intended.

      “What the hell was that for?” he demanded.

      She ducked behind the column with him. “I had to think fast. We were about to be spotted.”

      “I didn’t realize we were actually hiding.”

      “Of course we’re hiding. How else are we supposed to get out of here?” She stuck her head out, looked around. Candy had turned and was walking toward the front of the ballroom—straight for Amanda and Jack but with her back to the window. She grabbed Lucas’s hand and tugged him into the shadows of the patio.

      “Come on, now’s our chance to escape.”

      Lucas reached out and snagged her hand, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. “You do realize that we aren’t mounting a prison break, don’t you? We’re simply leaving a fundraiser a few minutes early.”

      She shot him a pitying look. “I will have you know, this is much more complicated than a prison break. After all, in prison, all they do is toss you back in your cell.


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