The Mummy Proposal. Cathy Gillen Thacker

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      So had Brooke, in the sense that she hadn’t felt so pressured. That the more prestigious jobs brought better pay … well, she was happy with that. “I know. And if my last client hadn’t canceled the job abruptly—”

      “When you refused to fly to Paris to look at fabric.”

      Brooke nodded. That client had been outrageously demanding—and unreasonable. “I guess it all worked out for the best. If I’d abided by his wishes, I wouldn’t have unexpectedly had two weeks open … or been able to take this job with Nate Hutchinson.” She couldn’t help smiling. Now I’m going to get paid double my usual rate for two weeks!

      “This Hutchinson guy … he’s an important dude?”

      Brooke glanced at her son. As usual, Cole looked relaxed and content after a day spent alternately learning cool stuff and playing in the summer sunshine. He was dressed in a yellow camp T-shirt with a computer emblazoned on the front, khaki cargo shorts and sneakers. That day’s athletic activity had been swimming, so his blond hair was wet and smelled of chlorine.

      “One of the most high-profile businessmen in Fort Worth,” she confirmed.

      “And he knows a lot about money.”

      “Apparently so, judging by the success of his financial services company.”

      Cole sighed. “Yeah, well … I still don’t want to live in some guy’s house!”

      Nor did Brooke, to tell the truth. But every time she remembered the look on Landry’s face, she thought about her own experiences in foster care—what it had felt like to get shunted around to places you didn’t know, with people you’d never met—and her heart went out to him. She knew she could help him adjust. And if doing so eventually repaid the universe’s kindness to her …

      “It’s actually a caretaker’s cottage, and it’s a rush job. The only way I’ll get it done in the time allotted is if I’m at the Hutchinson estate day and night for the next two weeks. And if I’m there till all hours and you’re at our place …”

      Cole grabbed the half-finished sport drink from his backpack and unscrewed the top. His golden-brown eyes were wiser than his years. “We’ll never see each other.”

      “Right.” Brooke turned onto the entrance ramp that would take them to the freeway. “I know you’re at camp all day. But I still like hanging around with you during the evenings, even when I have to spend part of that time working.”

      Cole ripped open the wrapper on an energy bar. “If I’m a good sport about this, you’re going to owe me.”

      Brooke had no problem putting the carrot ahead of the stick. Incentives were a great way to motivate people into going the extra mile. She smiled at her boyishly handsome son. “What would you like?”

      Cole beamed and bartered resolutely, “A whole day at the Six Flags amusement park in Arlington! We’re there when the park opens and we stay until we see the fireworks. Deal?”

      Brooke consented with a nod, glad to have come to some accord. “Deal. But it’s going to have to wait until I finish the job,” she cautioned.

      He wiped the oatmeal crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Or sooner, if you get a day off before then.”

      Brooke wouldn’t count on that. She had just met the man, but … “Mr. Hutchinson can be quite the slave driver.”

      “You can sweet-talk him into letting you have a day off next weekend. You can sweet-talk anybody, Mom.”

      Brooke knew that was true. But only to a point. “And there is one more thing,” she added, turning into the neighborhood of palatial estates Fort Worth’s wealthiest citizens called home.

      “Uh-oh,” Cole said. “I know that look….”

      Brooke tried to focus on the positive. “Mr. Hutchinson has a boy your age who is just now coming to live with him. Landry’s mom died a year and a half ago, so he’s having a hard time.” Briefly, she explained what had transpired.

      Cole fell silent, no doubt thinking about the death of his own father two years before, and the grief he had endured.

      Finally, he asked, “Was Landry’s great-grandmother nice when you met her?”

      “Very nice. She’s just too old and too ill to care for him.” Brooke turned into the drive. She keyed in the pass code that Nate had given her before she left. The electric gates opened.

      “Wow,” Cole murmured, sitting up in his seat. “This is rich!”

      At the end of the driveway, near the huge detached garage, Landry was kicking a landscaping stone across the pavement. Scowling, he barely looked up as she parked her minivan.

      Cole’s compassionate expression faded, and wariness kicked in. “Is that the kid?” he asked.

      Brooke nodded.

      Her son tensed. “He doesn’t look friendly at all.” It didn’t matter. The success of this particular job meant the kids had to develop a rapport. So for all their sakes, she would use every one of the skills she possessed to make sure they did.

      Chapter Three

      Landry grumbled the moment he laid eyes on the supper selections. “There are dead fish on this pizza.”

      Brooke knew it was a mistake to have Landry’s first meal with Nate in the formal dining room. The black lacquer table seated fifty. But there was no other place to eat inside the house, since the equally enormous kitchen was set up like a fancy hotel cook space, with stainless-steel counters and massive state-of-the-art appliances. So she had ignored her own instincts—which were to dine at one of the wrought-iron tables outside on the terrace—and gone along with Nate’s suggestion.

      Nate looked momentarily taken aback by Landry’s disdain. “I had them put anchovies on only one of the pies.”

      Landry stared at the dinner laid out for them, thanks to the local upscale pizza-delivery service. “That purple stuff looks gross, too.”

      Nate glanced down at the colorful assortment of veggies topping another crust. “That’s grilled eggplant. And if you don’t like it, you could remove it and just eat the rest of the vegetables.”

      That suggestion was met with mute resistance.

      “Maybe you could try the Hawaiian pizza,” Brooke suggested kindly.

      Landry scowled. “Who puts pineapple and ham on top of cheese and tomato sauce?”

      “Actually, you’d be surprised. It’s pretty good.” Cole held out his plate. “I’ll have some,” he said.

      Nate cheerfully handed over a generous slice.

      “You might like it,” Brooke told Landry.

      The boy stared glumly at the last option—a pale pizza with spinach and garlic—then looked back at Brooke. His great-grandmother had only been gone an hour, she thought. Already Landry СКАЧАТЬ