Clay glared at her, offended. “I wouldn’t fire you just because you’re pregnant. What do you think I am?”

But Andie didn’t want to fight with him. “Clay, don’t get self-righteous on me. Please.”

He relaxed a little. “All right. Sorry. Let’s try this another way.”

“What way?”

“Let me start out right now by saying that I have no intention of firing you.”

Her slim shoulders slumped, whether with relief or weariness, Clay didn’t know for sure. “That’s one problem solved,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m the one who should be thankful that you aren’t planning to quit. As you pointed out a while ago, you’d be damn near impossible to replace.”

“Oh, Clay.” Her expression was very vulnerable suddenly. In a totally spontaneous gesture, she reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Do you have any idea how much it means to me to hear you say that?”

Her hand was warm over his. Clay liked the way it felt, which shocked him a little, for some strange reason. He must have stiffened, because she quickly took her hand away.

“I’ve embarrassed you,” she said in a tiny voice.

He cleared his throat. “No. No, really. You haven’t. Not at all.” God, he was babbling like an idiot. He drew in a long, slow breath. Then he reminded himself that there were still some things they had to get clear between them.

He made himself ask, though it came out sounding pompous and ridiculously formal, “So then it’s settled that you won’t be leaving Barrett and Company?”

“Yes.”

“Good. So. Are you planning to get married?”

“No.”

“I see.” He forced himself to go on, though each word emerged more stilted than the last. “Then as far as the, er, child. What exactly do you plan to do about that?”

That burning intensity came into her eyes again. “I’m going to keep it.”

He tried to assimilate what she was telling him. “Raise a baby alone?”

She let out a little puff of air, then pointed out in a too-reasonable tone, “I’m a single woman. How else would I raise it?”

He knew he should probably just let it be, yet he heard himself asking, “Do you really believe that’s the best choice?”

“It’s my choice.” She looked down at the table and then lifted her head again to face him directly. “I’ve thought about it a lot, Clay, believe me. It’s what I want and the best I can do, given the circumstances.” She curled her fingers around her water glass, as if to steady herself. Then she shot Clay a defiant look. “A lot of women raise children alone these days.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.”

“I didn’t say it was good. I said it’s the way it is.”

Right then, the hostess led another couple to a booth near theirs. Both Clay and Andie fell silent for a moment, guarding the privacy of their conversation.

As Clay watched the hostess handing out menus, he reminded himself that he really shouldn’t get in too deep here. He shouldn’t push for answers to questions he was probably better off not thinking about.

He already had most of the information he required as Andie’s boss. She was going to be a mother and she wanted to keep working for him. All he needed to know now was how she planned to manage everything—how much leave she was going to need and when she would need it. The rest was her own personal business.

But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Once the other couple was settled with their menus, he turned to his cousin and asked, “What about the father?”

Her shoulders tensed. “What about him? He’s not involved.”

Clay leaned forward. He pitched his voice low. “Who is he?”

She flinched, then steadied herself. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.”

“No, it doesn’t. As I said, he’s not involved.”

“Andie, I just want to know who he is.”

“I understand that.” Her jaw was set. “And I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not really any of your business, Clay. And because it would probably only cause trouble if you knew.”

“What do you mean, trouble?”

“I mean, you might get it into your head that you should go after the guy or something. I don’t know.” She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “How should I know what you’d do? I just know that nothing but trouble could come from your knowing the man’s name.”

“That’s not necessarily true.”

“I don’t want to argue any more about this. I’m not telling you. That’s all.” She had that stubborn, determined look she used to get when they were kids. Whenever Andie got that look, it didn’t matter what a guy did, she wouldn’t talk.

Clay tried another tack. “Are you saying that the father wants nothing to do with the child?”

Andie sat back from him, then she lifted her water glass and drank from it. Carefully she set down the glass. “Look. What was between me and him just didn’t work out.”

“Does he know that you’re pregnant.”

“Yes. He knows.”

“How did he find out?”

“I contacted him and told him about it.”

“And?”

“I told him I thought he should know, that’s all.”

“What did he say?”

“What could he say? I told you, it was already over between us. There was no chance of trying again, even for the sake of a child. We just…aren’t suited to each other. But I did tell him about the baby, because it seemed like he had a right to know. And he said he’d help out wherever he could, but he didn’t want me to involve him.”

Clay’s chest felt tight. “And that was it?”

He saw the flicker of hesitation in her eyes before she answered, “Yes.”

“What else?”

“Clay…”

“Just tell me. What else?”

“You’re bullying me.”

“What else?”

“All right, all right. He sent some money.”

“Money.”

“Yes. To help out.”

“To help out.”

She glared at him. “Is there an echo in here?”

He ignored her sarcasm. “Is he going to give the baby his name?”

Andie looked away, then back. “No. He’s not. And that’s fine with me.”

“But I thought he said he’d help you wherever he could?”

“Clay, I—”

“What does that mean, wherever he could?”

“Clay, if you don’t stop this—”

“Just answer me. What does that mean?”

“I’m not kidding here, Clay.”

“He could help you by marrying you. Did he say anything about that?” Clay heard the leashed rage in his own voice. He tried to rein it in. He reminded himself again that the things he was grilling her about didn’t really concern him at all. But now that the fact of Andie’s pregnancy was out, he was finding it very hard to deal with.

Damn it, she was family to him. And she had been used. He just couldn’t help imagining the immense satisfaction he’d feel if he could only get his hands on the thoughtless bastard who’d done this to her, the rotten worm who now seemed to think a few lousy bucks would get him off the hook.

Andie was looking at him guardedly.

He asked again, “What about the man doing the right thing and marrying you, Andie?”

“Stop it, Clay.”

“Well, what about it?”

“If you don’t settle down, I’m going to get up and leave.” She spoke softly but very deliberately.

He stared at her. On the table between them, both of his fists were clenched. “I’m sorry.” He pushed the words out through his teeth.

She met his gaze, unwavering. “Then relax. Sit back. Take a deep breath or two.”

“Fine. I will.”

“Good. Then do it.”

He closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. Then he made himself sit back in the booth. He pulled air into his lungs and slowly let it out.

“Better,” she said warily.

“Good. Now, what about his marrying you?”

She looked at him for a moment, as if gauging how much to say. At last she allowed, “I told you, it’s over between us. It didn’t work out. I don’t want to marry him. And he doesn’t want to marry me.”

“Why is that?”

She looked away. “Enough. Stop.”

“What?”

“I said, enough. I don’t want to talk any more about the father. There’s nothing more to say about him. I cashed the check he sent me and that’s the end of it. I want nothing more from him. I’m not going to marry him, but I am going to raise my baby. The man is out of my—our—lives. For good and all.”

“There are laws, Andie, that will force the man to take responsibility for—”

She put up a hand. “I don’t care about laws. My baby and I will be just fine on our own. We’ll manage. If you can’t accept that, Clay, then maybe I will have to look for another job.”

“More coffee?” The smiling waitress appeared out of nowhere, coffeepot held high.

Clay shook his head tightly. Andie gave the young woman a sheepish smile.

“Well, if you need anything else…”

“We won’t,” Clay said, not bothering to disguise his impatience. The waitress left them. As soon as she was out of sight, Clay turned to his cousin. “Please don’t quit.” Somehow he managed a rueful shrug. “I’ll do my best to mind my own damn business.”

Andie nodded. “Fair enough.”

 

Clay forced himself to stop thinking murderous thoughts about an unknown man and to consider the things they really did have to agree on. “So. Have you figured out how you intend to run my office and also have a baby a few months from now?”

“It’s more than a few months away, thank goodness,” she corrected him.

“When?”

“I’m due in September. That’s seven months.”

In his head a voice whispered, Then she’s two months along.

Which meant she’d probably become pregnant over the holidays.

Over the holidays, while Jeff was here…

“My due date is September twenty-fourth,” Andie was saying. “I saw a doctor just last week.”

God. He didn’t want to think it. But the timing was right.

And Clay had seen the signs that Andie and Jeff were drawn to each other. His best friend and his cousin had spent at least one evening alone together, as a matter of fact.

“Clay?” Andie’s voice showed concern. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. I’m fine.”

No, he told himself firmly, it wasn’t Jeff. It couldn’t be Jeff. He wasn’t even going to let himself imagine a thing like that. He reminded himself for the umpteenth time to mind his own business, to stick to the question of how she planned to manage both a job and motherhood.

“Clay?”

He blinked. “Yes. Now, where were we?”

“Are you sure you’re—”

“Absolutely.” He answered the question before she finished it, then suggested, “Since you’ve thought this all through, why don’t you tell me exactly what you have in mind?”

She actually smiled as she launched into her plans. “All right. I’d like to work as long as I can and then I’ll take a short leave, maybe eight weeks at the most, to have the baby. I intend to be back at the office as soon as I can find a good baby-sitter. It should work out just fine. Or at least as fine as something like this can work out. I mean, September isn’t a half-bad time, really. Things aren’t too crazy then. And I can be back before the first of the year, when it all starts picking up again.” She tipped her head and regarded him. “So, how does that sound?”

Superimposed over Andie’s features he saw Jeff’s face, the laughing blue eyes and the devilish grin.

“Clay?” Andie asked anxiously.

He could hear Jeff’s voice, back in college, when a woman Jeff didn’t even know threw her arms around him at a home-coming game and kissed him right on the mouth. Jeff had winked at Clay over the woman’s shoulder. Hell, bud. I’m fatal to women. What can I say?

“Clay, does that sound all right?”

Clay blinked and forced himself back to the here and now. “Yeah, Andie. It sounds just fine. And I’m glad to hear you’ve been to a doctor, that you’re taking care of yourself.”

“I am. I promise.” She gave him a real smile now, and it occurred to him how much he’d missed her smiles the past few weeks. She shifted in her seat. “So, then. Are we done?”

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Your parents—have you told them yet?”

“No.”

“When will you tell them?”

“Right away.”

“And what will you say?”

“Just what I said to you. That I’m going to have a baby and I’m raising it on my own.”

 

The very next night Andie faced her parents.

She had them over to her apartment on High Street and she cooked them pot roast. Her father loved pot roast.

Andie waited until the dinner dishes had been cleared away and her father was on his second helping of chocolate cake before she dared to broach the subject of the baby.

With her stomach feeling queasy and her heart pounding a little too fast, she got up to refill her parents’ coffee cups and took her seat again. Then she folded her hands on the tabletop and gave a little cough, because her throat felt so tight.

“Andie?” her mother asked, before Andie had said a word.

Andie met her mother’s dark eyes and saw the worry and apprehension there. The past several weeks, her mother had asked her more than once if something was bothering her. Andie had put her mother off with vague replies. She said she was fine, or that she was a little tired. But her mother hadn’t been convinced, Andie knew. And now, with that emotional sixth sense a mother often has, Thelma McCreary understood that she was on the verge of finding out what had been troubling her only child.

Andie wanted to break down and cry. But she didn’t. Now was not the time for indulging herself. Now was the time to tell the truth and tell it with dignity.

As much of the truth as could be told, anyway.

She had considered holding off telling them until she was in her second trimester. But last night had changed her mind about that. Somehow, the moment she’d told Clay the truth, she’d seen that there was no point in postponing telling the rest of them. The sooner they knew, the sooner they could start to get used to the idea of having a single mother in the family.

Andie looked from her father to her mother, thinking that there were a lot of women in the world who’d give anything to have a close-knit family as she had. But there was a price to pay for being part of such a family. If she were all alone in the world, she wouldn’t have to tell painful truths like this to people whose love and respect she craved. If she were all alone in the world, the fact that she was going to have a baby without being married would be nobody’s business but her own.

“Andie, what is it?” Andie’s mother had set down her fork, leaving her cake only half-eaten.

“Well, I—”

Her father now pushed his own plate away. “All right. What’s going on? Something’s going on.”

“I think,” Thelma said rather faintly, “that Andie wants to tell us something.”

“What?” Andie’s father demanded. “What does she want to say?”

“Just wait, Joe. Let her get to it.” Thelma patted her husband’s hand.

The wifely gesture sent a sharp pang through Andie. She thought of the tiny baby that slept within her and couldn’t help wishing there was a good man like her father at her side.

But there wasn’t. She was on her own. That was reality. And she had made her choice.

Andie straightened in her chair. She forced a smile to meet her parents’ worried frowns.

“I don’t really know how to go about telling you this. I know you’re not going to like it, and that it will probably hurt you. And I’m sorry, so sorry. But I’ve made up my mind.”

“What?” Joe impatiently wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You’ve made up your mind about what?”

“Oh, Dad…”

“What? For God’s sake, Andie. Tell us.”

“I’m going to have a baby.”

There. The words were out.

And Andie felt as if she’d dropped them down a bottomless well.

Her father’s face went unhealthily pale. And then beet red. Andie thought of Uncle Don. Of heart attacks and strokes and all the things that happen to men in their late fifties who are a little overweight and a little overstressed and then receive a nasty shock.

Andie looked at her mother. Thelma’s eyes were very wide. And then they softened. Great tenderness filled them.

“Oh, honey…” Thelma reached across the table, groping for her daughter’s hand.

Andie responded without hesitation. She met her mother’s hand halfway and was glad for the unconditional love she saw in her mother’s eyes.

“You should have told us right away,” Thelma whispered.

“I had to have time to think. I had to be sure.”

“I know, I know.”

“It’s what I want, Mom.”

“Of course you do.”

Suddenly, Joe found his voice. He used it to point out the obvious. “You’re not married, Andrea.” He was clearly so upset, he’d called his daughter by the name she was born with.

Still clasping each other’s hands, both women looked at him.

“Don’t you two give me those looks,” Joe said with some testiness. “I’m stating a fact, here. You don’t have a husband, Andie.”

“Now, Joe,” Thelma began in her most placating tone.

Andie pulled her hand from her mother’s warm clasp. “It’s all right, Mom.”

“But I—”

Andie drew herself up. “No. It’s all right.” She faced her father. “You’re right, Dad. I don’t have a husband.”

“Are you going to have a husband?”

“Joe…”

“Quiet, Thelma.” He narrowed his eyes at his daughter. “Are you?”

“Maybe someday, yes.”

“What about right now, Andrea? It seems to me a husband is something you could use right away. It seems to me that the father of your baby might be a good choice as that husband, as a matter of fact.”

Andie felt her skin going prickly and her heart beating a sharp, erratic rhythm in her chest. She told her body to calm down. She reminded herself that she’d never expected this to be easy.

But having known it wouldn’t be easy didn’t make her like it. She’d hated seeing the disapproval and concern in Clay’s eyes and she hated seeing them in her father’s eyes, as well.

“Look, this is my baby.” She tried to keep her voice from rising out of control. “No one else’s. The father isn’t involved. I’m going to have it alone and I’m going to raise it the very best I can on my own.”

“Oh, dear,” Thelma said to no one in particular.

“But a baby needs a father,” Joe insisted gruffly. “And what about money? It’s only fair that the man—”

“Just drop it, Dad. I mean it. I’ll manage, as far as money goes.”

“What about your job? Clay is counting on you to—”

“I’ve worked things out with Clay.”

There was a tiny pause. Andie saw the flicker of a look that passed between her mother and her father.

Her father said carefully, “You’ve talked to Clay about this?”

“Yesterday evening, yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he wants me to keep working for him. So that means I’ll be able to support myself and the baby. It won’t be easy, but it will certainly be manageable.”

“Well.” Her father slid a glance at her mother again, then said to Andie, “At least you still have a job.”

“Yes, I do.”

Joe scrubbed a hand down his broad, lined face. “Well, that’s something. You’re lucky there.”

“I am not lucky there, Dad. I’m good at my job, and Clay doesn’t want to lose me.”

“Well, certainly. Of course. But I still think the father ought to—”

“That’s enough, Dad. Really. I wanted you to know the situation, because I love you both and don’t want you to be in the dark about something so important. But it’s my situation. I’ll handle it the way I think best.”

“It’s crazy.”

“Joe, please…”

“No, it’s crazy, Thelma. And you know it. Women having babies without a man beside them. It’s not right.” Joe looked at Andie, a weary look.

A look that hurt. It was a look she used to see on his face all the time, back when she was growing up, back when he’d considered her flighty, willful and irresponsible and was always saying he didn’t know what he was going to do with her.

In the past few years, Andie knew, her father’s opinion of her had changed greatly. He looked at her with pride now, and he often told her how pleased he was that she had finally grown up.

“It will work out,” Thelma said, her voice brittle with forced cheer.

Joe shook his head. “Andie, Andie. What are we going to do with you?”