Harry stopped pacing. His reflection in the window showed a man who looked nothing like the confident businessman from an hour ago. Shirt wrinkled, hair disheveled, face pale and sweaty.
"What kind of pressure?"
The line went dead.
Harry stared at the silent phone, then hurled it onto his desk. It skittered across the surface, knocking over his coffee mug.Dark liquid spread across important documents, seeping into the expensive wood.
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit."
He grabbed more tissues, dabbing frantically at the spreading stain. His hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Sandra O'Neill's calm, professional smile flashed through his memory. The way she'd watched him squirm. The steel in her eyes.
Harry sank into his chair, expensive leather creaking under his weight. He buried his face in his hands, breathing in the scent of his own fear.
Sandra O'Neill might just become a very dangerous problem.
32
Sandra had barely sat at her desk, placing her cup of Bess’s Bakery coffee in front of her, when Portia appeared at her door.
"There's a Patricia Williams here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment but said she's Emma and Toby's mom."
Sandra's stomach tightened. She'd known she would meet Patricia tonight at the recital but hadn't prepared for an unexpected visit. "Oh… sure… send her in."
The woman who entered was exactly what Sandra had imagined from the Christmas photo in Emma's room. Tall, blond, impeccably dressed in a pale gray suit and soft pink blouse that reminded her of the power suits she used to wear. Patricia moved with the confident efficiency of someone accustomed to boardrooms and business decisions.
"Ms. O'Neill? I'm Patricia Williams." She extended a manicured hand. "I hope you don't mind me dropping by. Your assistant said you had a few minutes between appointments."
Sandra shook her hand, noting the firm, businesslike grip. "Please, call me Sandra. And I don't mind at all."
Patricia settled into the chair across from Sandra's desk, crossing her legs with precise movements. "I thought meetingbefore tonight would be less awkward than introductions at a middle school concert."
Sandra leaned back, trying to read the other woman's expression. It wasn't particularly warm, but it wasn't hostile either. Professional, maybe. Like Patricia was conducting a business meeting.
"Terry mentioned you'd be there. I’m sure the kids are excited to see you."
"Are they?" Patricia's mouth quirked upward, but there was something wistful in the expression. "Emma told me you went to Toby's soccer game. Apparently, you cheered louder than any of the other parents."
Sandra felt heat rise in her cheeks. "He scored a goal. I got carried away."
"I'm sure he loved it." Patricia was quiet for a moment, studying Sandra with the kind of analytical gaze she used when sizing up a situation. "Can I ask you something?"
Sandra's stomach flip-flopped. "Of course."
"Do you genuinely enjoy being around my children, or are they just part of the package deal with Terry?"
The question was so direct that it took Sandra's breath away. She considered her answer carefully, recognizing this was some kind of test. “I love being with Emma and Toby. Getting to know them has been an honor." Sandra paused, then decided on complete honesty. "They've become part of my heart faster than I expected."
Patricia nodded slowly, and Sandra caught something like relief in her expression. "That's what I hoped you'd say."
"Were you worried I wouldn't enjoy being around them?"
Patricia's smile was genuine now. "Terry said you were honest to a fault. I needed to see that for myself."
Sandra hesitated, then decided to address the elephant in the room. "I want you to know I would never try to replaceyou. You’re their mom. You’re important to them, and that’s something that I’d never come between."
"Replace me?" Patricia's laugh was genuinely amused. "Sandra, I’m not worried that you'll replace me. You're filling gaps I can't."
