The Good Father. Kara Lennox
that looked out over the ocean, decent food and drinks that didn’t cost your whole paycheck.
Although lots of bars dotted Port Clara’s coast and downtown area, Max and his cousins had adopted Old Salt’s as their home away from home.
Max worked long hours these days trying to get the agency up and running and profitable—profitable being the point that interested him most at the moment. He had walked out on his job at Remington Industries, his family’s New York conglomerate, with a lot of big promises about how he was going to make it on his own with no help from them.
He remembered how his older brother, Eddie, had stared at him slack-jawed, and his father—vice president of marketing—had clenched his jaw in anger, then declared Max would come crawling back before six months was out.
He’d thought their reactions kind of amusing back then. Now he didn’t.
By eight o’clock Max felt worn thin, and he decided to call it a night and head for Old Salt’s for a beer and some commiseration.
He found the whole gang there—Cooper and Allie, unwinding after a full-day charter on their boat, the Dragonfly; and Reece and Sara, relaxing after a long day running their various businesses—between them they had three.
“Max!” Allie greeted him with a quick kiss to the cheek. “How goes the advertising biz?”
“A bit grueling today,” he admitted as he swiveled a chair around and straddled it. The waitress caught his eye, and he pointed to Cooper’s beer. She nodded.
“It’s not easy, running your own company,” said Sara. “The B and B isn’t so bad, since I took over an already-thriving business. But the catering…all I can say is, I’m glad Reece has some business sense or I’d be in serious trouble.” She put a hand to Max’s shoulder. “How’s the new artist working out?”
“Oh, you know about that?”
“Of course. I was there when you called her to offer the job. She’s incredible, isn’t she?”
“Incredible…yeah, that’s one word to describe her.” Slow would be another word.
“You’re not pleased with her work?” Allie asked, reading between the lines. “Oh, Max, please don’t fire her. She really needs that job. You have no idea what a financial mess Scott left her in. That boat was supposed to be hers free and clear, and now she’s discovered all kinds of debts and expenses related to the boat she knew nothing about. Of course, Scott kept her totally in the dark about their finances—”
Cooper clamped a hand over his wife’s mouth to silence her tirade. “Allie. Perhaps Jane doesn’t want her personal life bandied about in public.”
“We’re not public,” Allie objected, flipping her long red hair over one shoulder. “We’re Jane’s friends. Everybody here knows what a jerk her ex is. Max experienced it firsthand. First fist, that is.”
Max rubbed his jaw, which was even now, months later, a little tender. He couldn’t argue that Scott was a bastard, all right. Not only had the guy sucker-punched Max, but he’d used Max as leverage to take advantage of Jane in their divorce.
“The fact Jane needs a job shouldn’t be a factor in whether Max keeps her on or not,” Reece pointed out. He was the accountant in the family, the hard-nosed one who kept the rest of them financially on track.
“So he should just cast her out into the street?” Sara asked, with a look bordering on outrage.
“No, of course not,” Reece said. “But you can’t expect him to keep her on the payroll if she’s not an asset to his business.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Max decided the discussion had gotten way out of hand. “I never said she isn’t working out. Our first day was…rocky. Jane isn’t accustomed to the fast pace in advertising. But I plan to give her a decent chance to adjust.”
“I hope you’re not bombarding her with criticism,” Allie said. “She’s very sensitive.”
“But you have to give her feedback or she won’t improve,” Reece pointed out.
“Um, I gave her plenty of feedback.” Max had actually been a bit harsh, which wasn’t like him. He’d always had an easy-come, easy-go attitude when it came to winning and losing. Back when he’d worked at Remington Industries, if he spent weeks working with the creative staff on a campaign, only to have his father or Eddie or some other corporate suit shoot it down, he’d shrugged and moved on.
But now his money, his time, his reputation were on the line. His future depended on whether he could make a go of the Remington Agency. Eddie and his dad were watching, waiting for him to stumble and fail.
The situation made him tense, like a snake ready to strike. If he didn’t take things a little easier, he would end up like Reece had been before he resigned his high-powered position and relocated to Port Clara—headed for a heart attack like his old man.
“What about the other factor?” Cooper asked, giving Max a knowing look. “Doesn’t the fact you’re hot for her get in the way of business?”
Max groaned. “Come on, Coop, don’t bring that up. Yes, she’s a beautiful woman, but I think I can manage to resist her. I don’t need a harassment suit slapped on me, thanks very much. Besides,” he added, “she’s a single mom, and you know my rule.”
Sara looked at him quizzically. “What rule?”
“Max doesn’t date women with children,” Reece supplied, seeming amused by his wife’s narrowed gaze aimed at Max.
“That’s horrible!” Sara said. “Are you telling me you don’t like children?” She turned to Reece. “He is not going to be the godfather of our first child.”
Sara was expecting her and Reece’s first, and she was a little prickly where babies were concerned.
“I never said I don’t like children,” Max objected. “There are other issues.”
“Like a single mom can’t shower all her attention on you,” Allie said. “She has other priorities besides partying.”
“What is this, Pick-On-Max Night?” Max took a long sip of his beer. “I came here for good company, not to have my life dissected.”
Allie at least looked a little penitent. “Sorry, Max. Who else can we pick on?”
“You’ve already picked on me enough for one night,” Cooper said. “I’ll be glad when you all get tired of telling anyone who’ll listen how I tried to get Allie arrested for stealing her own boat.”
“And I don’t want to hear any more seasick jokes,” Reece put in.
“Or anything about my numbers dyslexia,” Sara added. “Hey, you know I found out there’s a term for my problem? It’s called dyscalcula—a math-learning disability.”
They continued to banter, but Max didn’t take part. He was nervous as hell about his meeting with the children’s clothing manufacturer he’d told Jane about. The owner of Kidz’n’Stuff was arriving for a meet and greet tomorrow, and Max was counting on Jane to come up with some sketches that would wow them, based on his concepts.
If she was as slow at sketching as she was with computer graphics, he was in serious trouble.
WHEN MAX ARRIVED at work the next morning, he found Jane already there, working industriously at her drawing board. She was prompt in the mornings, he’d give her that.
He tapped on her office door, which she’d left open as usual. “Morning, Jane.”
She jumped and turned, smiling. “Oh, good morning.”
“You don’t look so good,” Max blurted out, but her appearance was slightly alarming. Yesterday her coal-black hair had been curled and arranged in shimmering waves falling over her shoulders, and her makeup