Black Ties and Lullabies, page 25
Jeremy nodded as if he understood completely. Given what he’d told her, it was pretty clear his own father hadn’t been present at many school events.
“To give my mother credit,” Bernie said, “she never missed a game. But she was far more concerned with making sure I wore ribbons in our school colors tied around my ponytail. All she ever wanted was for me to get married and have a family. Unfortunately, it looks as if that husband she’d like me to have isn’t going to wander along anytime soon. And even if he does, trust me. He’ll keep on walking.”
Jeremy took a step toward Bernie, his chin in his hand. “You know, you’re more attractive than you think you are.”
She slumped with dismay. “Now why would you say something dumb like that?”
“Because it’s true. You have great eyes. Irises so dark they practically melt into your pupils. Eyelashes the average woman would kill for. Perfect skin. Pretty hair, even if you don’t do anything with it. And if you’ll pardon my saying so, a really nice ass.”
She glared at him. “I’ve strangled men for less than that.”
“Nah. You need a compliment or two. Believe in yourself a little, Bernie. You’re not the man repellent you seem to think you are.”
“You’re just trying to make a pudgy pregnant woman feel good.” She closed the suitcase and zipped it.
“I meant what I said. Stop selling yourself short.”
“Old habits die hard.”
“That’s one you need to get rid of.”
Suddenly she realized just how serious he was, and she felt a warm shiver of awareness. “Thanks for everything,” she said softly. “Including the ego boost.”
That wasn’t how Jeremy intended it at all. He wasn’t trying to boost her ego. He was merely telling the truth. Lately he’d found it hard to believe he’d never noticed just how pretty she really was. All these years, her tough-girl attitude had masked all the good things in her heart that showed so clearly on her face right now.
Suddenly Jeremy heard a car engine outside. Bernie walked over and looked out the window to the motor court below.
“Gotta go,” she said. “That’s my ride.”
“Your ride?”
“My friend Teresa is picking me up.”
Jeremy felt a surge of disappointment. “She is?”
“Yeah. She has some things to give me for the baby. And she wants to see my new apartment.”
Yeah, but Jeremy wanted to be the one who was there when Bernie saw her new apartment. Damn. What was he supposed to say now? Go away, Teresa, I have this handled?
Jeremy took the suitcase. Bernie flipped off the music, and they went downstairs. Bernie opened the back door and a woman came into the kitchen—a tall, pretty, perky woman Jeremy truly wished would go away.
“I cannot believe this place,” Teresa said to Bernie, her eyes as wide as searchlights. “I simply can’t believe it.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder. “That lake out there has swans in it. Swans. And this house. My God. It looks like a freakin’ castle. What is it? Like, eight thousand square feet?”
“Ten,” Jeremy said.
Teresa whipped around, seeing Jeremy for the first time. A smile came over her face. “And the view keeps getting better and better.” She strode over to Jeremy. “Hi. I’m Teresa Ramsey.”
Jeremy shook her hand. “Jeremy Bridges.”
“So you’re the king of the castle.”
“Yes. I guess I am.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you.” She turned to Bernie. “Oh! Guess what? My cousin said she definitely doesn’t want the crib anymore, so she’s giving it to you.”
“That’s great!”
“Bill’s going to get it right now and bring it to your apartment. It’s been in pieces in storage, so he’ll have to put it together.”
“Uh-oh,” Bernie said. “Bill? Put something together?”
Teresa turned to Jeremy. “She’s referring to the time my husband tried to assemble a desk. When he got finished, he had a handful of hardware left over, and the file drawer fell off.” She turned back to Bernie. “Don’t worry. Lucky and Gabe are coming, too. They’ll make sure he gets it right.”
Jeremy knew who Gabe was. But who the hell was Lucky?
“Max, too?” Bernie said.
“He’ll be by later to join everybody for poker.”
Poker?
“And don’t worry. I know you don’t have any groceries yet, so I picked up a couple of six-packs and stuff for nachos.”
“Thanks. You’re an angel.”
“We’d better get going, or Bill is going to beat us to your apartment.” She turned to Jeremy. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
He grabbed Bernie’s suitcase, took it out to Teresa’s car, and stuck it in the trunk. Then he opened the front passenger door and Bernie got in.
“Thanks for everything,” she said.
“Any time.”
He closed the door behind her. Teresa started the car, and in moments, they’d disappeared down the road.
And that was that.
Jeremy went back inside. For the longest time, he just stood in the kitchen, listening to the silence. In the time he’d known Bernie, she’d never spoken of family and friends, so he had taken her to be as much of a loner as he was. Now he knew just how wrong he’d been. The familiar way she and Teresa talked about the men told him just how close they all were, and it made Jeremy feel like the odd man out.
All at once he envisioned coming home in the evenings the way he used to, eating dinner alone in the breakfast room, doing a little work from the office, watching a little TV, then going to bed. Then he thought about women he used to date, the ones he’d never felt any connection with, and he couldn’t believe that had ever been enough. And this house. He’d been so proud of it when he’d built it, but now when he looked at it, he didn’t see the soaring ceilings, the beautiful furnishings, the expensive art. Instead he saw the space between all those things—the empty space that he’d never even thought about before, but that now seemed to surround him like a shroud.
If only Bernie hadn’t left. But why shouldn’t she? It wasn’t as if she needed him anymore.
He went to his den and sat down, flipping on the television to fill the silence. Then he looked beneath the coffee table and realized she’d left her slippers. He felt a shot of excitement, only to have it fizzle. Returning them to her might be good for a five-minute visit. Then what?
Then Jeremy happened to look at the bookshelves on the opposite side of the room and saw the stack of resumes the agency had sent over, the ones he’d tried to get Bernie to go through with him the night she ended up in the emergency room. He hadn’t looked at them since. The guy from his facilities department was doing a great job filling in as manager, but he really did need to hire somebody permanently.
Then all at once he had an idea.
He sat straight up in his chair, turning it over in his mind. It was the kind of plan he loved the most—a win-win for all concerned. And this time tomorrow, he’d have exactly what he wanted, and so would Bernie.
She just didn’t know it yet.
The next day, Bernie sat in front of the museum’s security monitors, her eyes crossing, checking her watch every five minutes. Unfortunately, around here, five minutes felt like fifty. She watched people milling around the central atrium. Having a bite of lunch at the café. Walking up and down in front of the exhibits. Wandering through the gift shop. On and on and on. She was thoroughly convinced that they could hire a marginally intelligent chimpanzee to do this job, except he’d probably get bored and quit.
The door behind her suddenly opened. Surprised by the noise, she spun around and was shocked to see Jeremy come into the room with Max following close behind.
Jeremy pulled up a chair backward, slung a leg over it, and rested his forearms on the back. Max took up a position along the wall.
“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.
“I need to talk to you,” Jeremy said.
“How did you find your way back here?”
“Max figured it out.”
“If the head of security finds you here, he’ll kick you out.”
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh, boy. This can’t be good.”
“Hear me out. You hate your job, so—”
“I didn’t say I hated my job.”
“Your mouth hasn’t said it, but your face always has.”
“So now you’re a body language expert?”
“She hates it,” Max said.
Bernie turned and glared at him. “I can speak for myself, Max.”
“Evasively,” Max said.
“Anyway,” Jeremy said, “yesterday I was looking over those resumes for the manager’s job at Creekwood, and suddenly I realized who the perfect candidate was.”
“Who?”
“You.”
“Me?” Bernie just stared at him, more than a little stunned. “You want me to manage Creekwood Apartments?”
“That’s right.”
“But—but I don’t know anything about managing an apartment complex.”
“Neither did Charmin.”
“I know, but—”
“Do you honestly think it’s something you couldn’t do?”
“She can do it,” Max said.
Bernie glared at him again. “You know, for somebody who doesn’t talk much, you’re having a hard time shutting up.”
Max smiled. Just a little.
“Of course I can do it,” Bernie told Jeremy. “I just don’t know if I’m the best person to do it.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you are,” Jeremy said. “And it’s a win-win situation. You get a job where you can move around, solve problems, get things done. And I protect my investment by hiring somebody competent to run it. Would learning something new be too stressful for you?”
“Stressful? I’m used to stress. That’s why this job is killing me. If I don’t have stress, I get stressed.”
“Even with the babies?”
“Even with the babies.”
“Would it be too much activity?”
“No. At this place, I get too little activity. That’s not good.”
“We’d have to work together quite a bit to make sure things stayed on track. Any problem with that?”
“Hell, yes. You drive me crazy.”
Jeremy smiled. “So will you do it?”
“Benefits?”
“Whatever you need.”
Then he mentioned a salary figure that positively ensured his investment was going to show a huge loss. She’d have to talk to him about that, because she still didn’t like the idea of getting something for nothing. And she still wasn’t completely sure she was competent to do the job. But if it meant getting out of this place…
“Bernie,” Jeremy said, “am I going to have to spend ten more minutes convincing you it’s the right thing to do? Because if I am—”
“She’ll do it,” Max said.
Bernie slumped with frustration. “Will you let me speak for myself?” She turned back to Jeremy. “Okay. I’m in. But the second you start in with the micromanaging control freak crap, I’m out of there. If you pay me to run the show, I’m running it.”
“Deal. You can start as soon as you can shake free from this job.”
It would feel strange to quit working for Gabe after all this time, but realistically, as a pregnant woman and eventually a mother, was she really all that employable where he was concerned?
Maybe it was time to move into something totally different.
“Fine,” she said. “But I still don’t get why you’re here. Couldn’t you have just given me a call tonight?”
“I had to catch you at a vulnerable moment,” Jeremy said.
“What?”
“At the height of boredom. If you were sitting here wishing you were anywhere else, you were much more likely to accept my offer.” He rose from the chair and pushed it back up against the desk. “Come on, Max. Let’s go.”
“Who are you guys going to rough up now?” Bernie asked.
“Hmm,” Jeremy mused. “I have a board of directors that doesn’t always see things my way. I’m thinking of bringing Max in. Just to stand there. You know.”
Max flexed his biceps, his mouth turning down in a bad-ass frown.
Bernie rolled her eyes. “You’re both nuts. Out.”
Jeremy gave her a wink as they left the room, and she couldn’t help smiling back. After all, it was a perfect opportunity he was offering her. She’d be exercising the brain she swore had atrophied from lack of use. She’d be talking to people and solving their problems. She’d be overseeing the renovation. And as much as she’d told Jeremy to stay out of her way, of course she’d be discussing things with him, implementing his plans, reporting her progress. Together they’d be turning Creekwood into a decent place for the residents to live. As time went on, they might even be able to figure out a way to make it a profitable business.
She couldn’t wait.
Chapter 26
Bernie knew it had been the right decision to take the manager’s job at Creekwood Apartments, but she didn’t have any idea just how much she would love it. Within the first six weeks she was there, she subscribed to Units magazine. She joined the Apartment Association of Greater Dallas and attended webinars on tenant relations and the Fair Housing Act. She created a satisfaction survey that she sent to each tenant to get feedback for future services. She managed the work crews, fielded tenant complaints, and handled rent collections. Not that there weren’t problems. A lot of them. But she never brought Jeremy a problem without also proposing a solution, and he had yet to disagree with her. Given Jeremy’s incredible success as a businessman, that gave her ego a really nice boost.
When she thought about Charmin occupying the same job, she almost laughed out loud. Charmin had spent all day every day trying to find ways to avoid work, while Bernie couldn’t wait for the next task. She knew there would come a day very soon when she’d have to slow down, and when that time came, Jeremy was going to send somebody over to help, eventually filling in for her until the babies were born. But for now, she was getting the job done and loving every minute of it.
One afternoon Jeremy was in her office at Creekwood, thumbing through the payables for some of the carpentry work.
“That guy charges an awful lot,” Bernie said, pointing to one of the bills. “It’s starting to really add up. I can get bids from another company if you want me to.”
“What’s the quality of his work?”
“Top-notch.”
“Better to pay a lot to get it done right the first time then to pay again to have it fixed.”
“Good point.”
Jeremy glanced to Bernie’s inbox. “What’s this?” he said, picking up the booklet that was lying on the top.
“Something I picked up about childbirth classes.”
He sat down on the edge of her desk to look at it. “Is that where they teach you all that breathing stuff?”
“Yeah. It’s supposed to help with the pain.”
“I thought painkillers were supposed to help with the pain.”
“Not if you’re having natural childbirth.”
“Is that what you want? Natural childbirth?”
“My doctor says with twins, it’s a pipe dream. Actually, I’d prefer they knock me out and wake me up when the kids turn eighteen, but I don’t think that’s an option.”
“When do the classes start?”
“In a few weeks. I’m supposed to take them in my second trimester instead of my third, because a lot of twin pregnancies don’t make it all the way to term.”
“Says here you need a coach.”
“Yeah. I thought I’d ask Teresa. She has two kids, so she knows what it’s like. With her there to help me—”
“Hold on. What about me?”
“What about you?”
“Shouldn’t I be your coach?”
“Uh…”
“Bernie. I am the babies’ father.”
“You want to be in the delivery room?”
“Why not?”
“Do you remember that PBS documentary we started watching that night about childbirth? When that baby popped out, I thought you were going to faint. You couldn’t turn the channel fast enough.”
“That was because it was somebody else’s baby. It was ugly. That was why I nearly fainted.”
“All newborn babies are ugly. It’s the law.”
Jeremy drew back. “My children will not be ugly.”
“Yeah, but will their father be facedown on the floor?”
“Nope. Coaches are always in control.” He smiled. “I like that. Coach. If I’m going to be in there when the babies are born, I might as well be in charge.”
“Uh-huh. I’m thinking they call it ‘coach’ because it’s a sports reference, which is an excellent way to convince men to show up.”
“Did you sign up for the classes yet?” Jeremy asked.
“Not yet. We can go on either Tuesdays or Thursdays. Two hours a night for six weeks. Which day do you want?”
“I don’t care. Just sign us up and I’ll work around it.”
“You sure you want to do this?”
“Yep.” He tossed the brochure back in her inbox. “I’ve got to get back to the office. Just let me know when it’s a done deal and you have the schedule.”
As Jeremy left the office, Bernie felt a little shell-shocked. He was actually going to be in the room with her when the babies were born? She had never imagined he’d want to do that, and she wasn’t prepared for the feelings that overwhelmed her at the thought of it.
She picked up the brochure. On the front was a photo of a man and woman. The woman was in a labor bed, and the man was holding her hand and smiling at her. All at once she felt the same way she had that first day in her doctor’s waiting room, when she’d seen that couple sitting together, smiling at each other as they felt their baby move. She’d felt a shot of envy so strong it was almost incapacitating, and she was feeling the same way now.
Sometimes at night, in that zone between waking and sleeping, Bernie imagined reaching over to feel a man beside her, a man who was good and kind and dependable who would love her forever. She imagined him turning over and pulling her against him, holding her close, and for those few moments, she could let down her guard, melt into comfort and safety, relax in the warmth of his arms, and all her problems would go away. In the last several years, that dream had become so hazy that she rarely even thought about it anymore, but there was something about the prospect of single motherhood that brought it right back into sharp focus.
“To give my mother credit,” Bernie said, “she never missed a game. But she was far more concerned with making sure I wore ribbons in our school colors tied around my ponytail. All she ever wanted was for me to get married and have a family. Unfortunately, it looks as if that husband she’d like me to have isn’t going to wander along anytime soon. And even if he does, trust me. He’ll keep on walking.”
Jeremy took a step toward Bernie, his chin in his hand. “You know, you’re more attractive than you think you are.”
She slumped with dismay. “Now why would you say something dumb like that?”
“Because it’s true. You have great eyes. Irises so dark they practically melt into your pupils. Eyelashes the average woman would kill for. Perfect skin. Pretty hair, even if you don’t do anything with it. And if you’ll pardon my saying so, a really nice ass.”
She glared at him. “I’ve strangled men for less than that.”
“Nah. You need a compliment or two. Believe in yourself a little, Bernie. You’re not the man repellent you seem to think you are.”
“You’re just trying to make a pudgy pregnant woman feel good.” She closed the suitcase and zipped it.
“I meant what I said. Stop selling yourself short.”
“Old habits die hard.”
“That’s one you need to get rid of.”
Suddenly she realized just how serious he was, and she felt a warm shiver of awareness. “Thanks for everything,” she said softly. “Including the ego boost.”
That wasn’t how Jeremy intended it at all. He wasn’t trying to boost her ego. He was merely telling the truth. Lately he’d found it hard to believe he’d never noticed just how pretty she really was. All these years, her tough-girl attitude had masked all the good things in her heart that showed so clearly on her face right now.
Suddenly Jeremy heard a car engine outside. Bernie walked over and looked out the window to the motor court below.
“Gotta go,” she said. “That’s my ride.”
“Your ride?”
“My friend Teresa is picking me up.”
Jeremy felt a surge of disappointment. “She is?”
“Yeah. She has some things to give me for the baby. And she wants to see my new apartment.”
Yeah, but Jeremy wanted to be the one who was there when Bernie saw her new apartment. Damn. What was he supposed to say now? Go away, Teresa, I have this handled?
Jeremy took the suitcase. Bernie flipped off the music, and they went downstairs. Bernie opened the back door and a woman came into the kitchen—a tall, pretty, perky woman Jeremy truly wished would go away.
“I cannot believe this place,” Teresa said to Bernie, her eyes as wide as searchlights. “I simply can’t believe it.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder. “That lake out there has swans in it. Swans. And this house. My God. It looks like a freakin’ castle. What is it? Like, eight thousand square feet?”
“Ten,” Jeremy said.
Teresa whipped around, seeing Jeremy for the first time. A smile came over her face. “And the view keeps getting better and better.” She strode over to Jeremy. “Hi. I’m Teresa Ramsey.”
Jeremy shook her hand. “Jeremy Bridges.”
“So you’re the king of the castle.”
“Yes. I guess I am.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you.” She turned to Bernie. “Oh! Guess what? My cousin said she definitely doesn’t want the crib anymore, so she’s giving it to you.”
“That’s great!”
“Bill’s going to get it right now and bring it to your apartment. It’s been in pieces in storage, so he’ll have to put it together.”
“Uh-oh,” Bernie said. “Bill? Put something together?”
Teresa turned to Jeremy. “She’s referring to the time my husband tried to assemble a desk. When he got finished, he had a handful of hardware left over, and the file drawer fell off.” She turned back to Bernie. “Don’t worry. Lucky and Gabe are coming, too. They’ll make sure he gets it right.”
Jeremy knew who Gabe was. But who the hell was Lucky?
“Max, too?” Bernie said.
“He’ll be by later to join everybody for poker.”
Poker?
“And don’t worry. I know you don’t have any groceries yet, so I picked up a couple of six-packs and stuff for nachos.”
“Thanks. You’re an angel.”
“We’d better get going, or Bill is going to beat us to your apartment.” She turned to Jeremy. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
He grabbed Bernie’s suitcase, took it out to Teresa’s car, and stuck it in the trunk. Then he opened the front passenger door and Bernie got in.
“Thanks for everything,” she said.
“Any time.”
He closed the door behind her. Teresa started the car, and in moments, they’d disappeared down the road.
And that was that.
Jeremy went back inside. For the longest time, he just stood in the kitchen, listening to the silence. In the time he’d known Bernie, she’d never spoken of family and friends, so he had taken her to be as much of a loner as he was. Now he knew just how wrong he’d been. The familiar way she and Teresa talked about the men told him just how close they all were, and it made Jeremy feel like the odd man out.
All at once he envisioned coming home in the evenings the way he used to, eating dinner alone in the breakfast room, doing a little work from the office, watching a little TV, then going to bed. Then he thought about women he used to date, the ones he’d never felt any connection with, and he couldn’t believe that had ever been enough. And this house. He’d been so proud of it when he’d built it, but now when he looked at it, he didn’t see the soaring ceilings, the beautiful furnishings, the expensive art. Instead he saw the space between all those things—the empty space that he’d never even thought about before, but that now seemed to surround him like a shroud.
If only Bernie hadn’t left. But why shouldn’t she? It wasn’t as if she needed him anymore.
He went to his den and sat down, flipping on the television to fill the silence. Then he looked beneath the coffee table and realized she’d left her slippers. He felt a shot of excitement, only to have it fizzle. Returning them to her might be good for a five-minute visit. Then what?
Then Jeremy happened to look at the bookshelves on the opposite side of the room and saw the stack of resumes the agency had sent over, the ones he’d tried to get Bernie to go through with him the night she ended up in the emergency room. He hadn’t looked at them since. The guy from his facilities department was doing a great job filling in as manager, but he really did need to hire somebody permanently.
Then all at once he had an idea.
He sat straight up in his chair, turning it over in his mind. It was the kind of plan he loved the most—a win-win for all concerned. And this time tomorrow, he’d have exactly what he wanted, and so would Bernie.
She just didn’t know it yet.
The next day, Bernie sat in front of the museum’s security monitors, her eyes crossing, checking her watch every five minutes. Unfortunately, around here, five minutes felt like fifty. She watched people milling around the central atrium. Having a bite of lunch at the café. Walking up and down in front of the exhibits. Wandering through the gift shop. On and on and on. She was thoroughly convinced that they could hire a marginally intelligent chimpanzee to do this job, except he’d probably get bored and quit.
The door behind her suddenly opened. Surprised by the noise, she spun around and was shocked to see Jeremy come into the room with Max following close behind.
Jeremy pulled up a chair backward, slung a leg over it, and rested his forearms on the back. Max took up a position along the wall.
“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.
“I need to talk to you,” Jeremy said.
“How did you find your way back here?”
“Max figured it out.”
“If the head of security finds you here, he’ll kick you out.”
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh, boy. This can’t be good.”
“Hear me out. You hate your job, so—”
“I didn’t say I hated my job.”
“Your mouth hasn’t said it, but your face always has.”
“So now you’re a body language expert?”
“She hates it,” Max said.
Bernie turned and glared at him. “I can speak for myself, Max.”
“Evasively,” Max said.
“Anyway,” Jeremy said, “yesterday I was looking over those resumes for the manager’s job at Creekwood, and suddenly I realized who the perfect candidate was.”
“Who?”
“You.”
“Me?” Bernie just stared at him, more than a little stunned. “You want me to manage Creekwood Apartments?”
“That’s right.”
“But—but I don’t know anything about managing an apartment complex.”
“Neither did Charmin.”
“I know, but—”
“Do you honestly think it’s something you couldn’t do?”
“She can do it,” Max said.
Bernie glared at him again. “You know, for somebody who doesn’t talk much, you’re having a hard time shutting up.”
Max smiled. Just a little.
“Of course I can do it,” Bernie told Jeremy. “I just don’t know if I’m the best person to do it.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you are,” Jeremy said. “And it’s a win-win situation. You get a job where you can move around, solve problems, get things done. And I protect my investment by hiring somebody competent to run it. Would learning something new be too stressful for you?”
“Stressful? I’m used to stress. That’s why this job is killing me. If I don’t have stress, I get stressed.”
“Even with the babies?”
“Even with the babies.”
“Would it be too much activity?”
“No. At this place, I get too little activity. That’s not good.”
“We’d have to work together quite a bit to make sure things stayed on track. Any problem with that?”
“Hell, yes. You drive me crazy.”
Jeremy smiled. “So will you do it?”
“Benefits?”
“Whatever you need.”
Then he mentioned a salary figure that positively ensured his investment was going to show a huge loss. She’d have to talk to him about that, because she still didn’t like the idea of getting something for nothing. And she still wasn’t completely sure she was competent to do the job. But if it meant getting out of this place…
“Bernie,” Jeremy said, “am I going to have to spend ten more minutes convincing you it’s the right thing to do? Because if I am—”
“She’ll do it,” Max said.
Bernie slumped with frustration. “Will you let me speak for myself?” She turned back to Jeremy. “Okay. I’m in. But the second you start in with the micromanaging control freak crap, I’m out of there. If you pay me to run the show, I’m running it.”
“Deal. You can start as soon as you can shake free from this job.”
It would feel strange to quit working for Gabe after all this time, but realistically, as a pregnant woman and eventually a mother, was she really all that employable where he was concerned?
Maybe it was time to move into something totally different.
“Fine,” she said. “But I still don’t get why you’re here. Couldn’t you have just given me a call tonight?”
“I had to catch you at a vulnerable moment,” Jeremy said.
“What?”
“At the height of boredom. If you were sitting here wishing you were anywhere else, you were much more likely to accept my offer.” He rose from the chair and pushed it back up against the desk. “Come on, Max. Let’s go.”
“Who are you guys going to rough up now?” Bernie asked.
“Hmm,” Jeremy mused. “I have a board of directors that doesn’t always see things my way. I’m thinking of bringing Max in. Just to stand there. You know.”
Max flexed his biceps, his mouth turning down in a bad-ass frown.
Bernie rolled her eyes. “You’re both nuts. Out.”
Jeremy gave her a wink as they left the room, and she couldn’t help smiling back. After all, it was a perfect opportunity he was offering her. She’d be exercising the brain she swore had atrophied from lack of use. She’d be talking to people and solving their problems. She’d be overseeing the renovation. And as much as she’d told Jeremy to stay out of her way, of course she’d be discussing things with him, implementing his plans, reporting her progress. Together they’d be turning Creekwood into a decent place for the residents to live. As time went on, they might even be able to figure out a way to make it a profitable business.
She couldn’t wait.
Chapter 26
Bernie knew it had been the right decision to take the manager’s job at Creekwood Apartments, but she didn’t have any idea just how much she would love it. Within the first six weeks she was there, she subscribed to Units magazine. She joined the Apartment Association of Greater Dallas and attended webinars on tenant relations and the Fair Housing Act. She created a satisfaction survey that she sent to each tenant to get feedback for future services. She managed the work crews, fielded tenant complaints, and handled rent collections. Not that there weren’t problems. A lot of them. But she never brought Jeremy a problem without also proposing a solution, and he had yet to disagree with her. Given Jeremy’s incredible success as a businessman, that gave her ego a really nice boost.
When she thought about Charmin occupying the same job, she almost laughed out loud. Charmin had spent all day every day trying to find ways to avoid work, while Bernie couldn’t wait for the next task. She knew there would come a day very soon when she’d have to slow down, and when that time came, Jeremy was going to send somebody over to help, eventually filling in for her until the babies were born. But for now, she was getting the job done and loving every minute of it.
One afternoon Jeremy was in her office at Creekwood, thumbing through the payables for some of the carpentry work.
“That guy charges an awful lot,” Bernie said, pointing to one of the bills. “It’s starting to really add up. I can get bids from another company if you want me to.”
“What’s the quality of his work?”
“Top-notch.”
“Better to pay a lot to get it done right the first time then to pay again to have it fixed.”
“Good point.”
Jeremy glanced to Bernie’s inbox. “What’s this?” he said, picking up the booklet that was lying on the top.
“Something I picked up about childbirth classes.”
He sat down on the edge of her desk to look at it. “Is that where they teach you all that breathing stuff?”
“Yeah. It’s supposed to help with the pain.”
“I thought painkillers were supposed to help with the pain.”
“Not if you’re having natural childbirth.”
“Is that what you want? Natural childbirth?”
“My doctor says with twins, it’s a pipe dream. Actually, I’d prefer they knock me out and wake me up when the kids turn eighteen, but I don’t think that’s an option.”
“When do the classes start?”
“In a few weeks. I’m supposed to take them in my second trimester instead of my third, because a lot of twin pregnancies don’t make it all the way to term.”
“Says here you need a coach.”
“Yeah. I thought I’d ask Teresa. She has two kids, so she knows what it’s like. With her there to help me—”
“Hold on. What about me?”
“What about you?”
“Shouldn’t I be your coach?”
“Uh…”
“Bernie. I am the babies’ father.”
“You want to be in the delivery room?”
“Why not?”
“Do you remember that PBS documentary we started watching that night about childbirth? When that baby popped out, I thought you were going to faint. You couldn’t turn the channel fast enough.”
“That was because it was somebody else’s baby. It was ugly. That was why I nearly fainted.”
“All newborn babies are ugly. It’s the law.”
Jeremy drew back. “My children will not be ugly.”
“Yeah, but will their father be facedown on the floor?”
“Nope. Coaches are always in control.” He smiled. “I like that. Coach. If I’m going to be in there when the babies are born, I might as well be in charge.”
“Uh-huh. I’m thinking they call it ‘coach’ because it’s a sports reference, which is an excellent way to convince men to show up.”
“Did you sign up for the classes yet?” Jeremy asked.
“Not yet. We can go on either Tuesdays or Thursdays. Two hours a night for six weeks. Which day do you want?”
“I don’t care. Just sign us up and I’ll work around it.”
“You sure you want to do this?”
“Yep.” He tossed the brochure back in her inbox. “I’ve got to get back to the office. Just let me know when it’s a done deal and you have the schedule.”
As Jeremy left the office, Bernie felt a little shell-shocked. He was actually going to be in the room with her when the babies were born? She had never imagined he’d want to do that, and she wasn’t prepared for the feelings that overwhelmed her at the thought of it.
She picked up the brochure. On the front was a photo of a man and woman. The woman was in a labor bed, and the man was holding her hand and smiling at her. All at once she felt the same way she had that first day in her doctor’s waiting room, when she’d seen that couple sitting together, smiling at each other as they felt their baby move. She’d felt a shot of envy so strong it was almost incapacitating, and she was feeling the same way now.
Sometimes at night, in that zone between waking and sleeping, Bernie imagined reaching over to feel a man beside her, a man who was good and kind and dependable who would love her forever. She imagined him turning over and pulling her against him, holding her close, and for those few moments, she could let down her guard, melt into comfort and safety, relax in the warmth of his arms, and all her problems would go away. In the last several years, that dream had become so hazy that she rarely even thought about it anymore, but there was something about the prospect of single motherhood that brought it right back into sharp focus.
