Baby Comes First (3 page)

He frowned. “Are you hurt?”

Her hand paused. Was that concern she heard
in his voice? “I’ll let you know if I file a claim with worker’s
compensation,” she said dryly, suddenly embarrassed. There was
nothing like acting like a klutz to make a great first
impression.

He visibly relaxed as he recognized the humor
in her response. “Then you’re all right.”

She could tell he was a man who wanted
everything spelled out precisely. But she wasn’t going to let him
off the hook so easily. “I’ll be fine, but that doesn’t change the
fact that it could have been worse. What if a client had slipped?”
She pressed her point home. “You can’t leave papers on the floor.
It’s unprofessional, and it’s not safe.”

He considered this for a moment, then agreed.
“I’ll take care of it.”

“How? You don’t have any more places to stack
it without creating an avalanche.”

He looked about the room, scowling. Finally,
he said, “I don’t want the firm to be liable. Take care of it, Ms.
Hansen.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll start working on your filing
system this afternoon.”

#

Ms. Dulane accosted Luke Jamison as he waited
for the elevator later that afternoon. “Mr. Jamison. How is Ms.
Hansen working out?”

“Fine,” he said tersely, not wanting to
discuss the matter.

The Human Resources Director seemed
surprised. “Good. Let me know if I can help you further,” she said
and retreated back to her office.

Luke thought about his new secretary as he
stepped into the elevator. Hannah Hansen was an irritating woman.
She was too smart for her own good -- telling him to clean up his
office and subtly threatening a worker’s comp case. The fact that
she was completely correct in her assessments -- his office was a
tort case waiting to happen -- merely made her more irritating.

But he sensed that like competent opposing
counsel in a trial, she would be good for him. She’d keep him on
his toes, making him do his best work.

And judging from her output this morning,
she’d be an excellent secretary.

The only potential problem was her remarkably
attractive legs. That was the first thing he noticed when she
slipped that morning. Her legs were long and slim and beautifully
shaped.

He did not want to let them distract him from
his work. No doubt, in time, he’d become accustomed to the sight
and no longer notice, but until then, he’d have to be careful. In
the courtroom, he had learned to focus on a female witness’ or a
juror’s face if she wore a low cut blouse. He would apply the same
discipline now, with Ms. Hansen. If he ignored her legs and that
sexy sway to her walk, there shouldn’t be any difficulties.

#

Hannah turned a page on her desk calendar. It
was August already. The past four months had slipped by
quickly.

She had never worked so hard in her life, but
it had not been as difficult as she feared. Luke Jamison could be
an ogre, but his bark was much worse than his bite. The secret was
to work quickly and accurately and to anticipate his needs. That
way, he had little to complain about.

She’d also been fortunate that he’d had two
trials, which kept him out of the office much of the time, and when
he was in the office, he had numerous meetings with junior
attorneys and paralegals. Sometimes Hannah went days without seeing
him, communicating only through text and email.

She was still uncomfortable, knowing that she
was carrying his biological baby, but as the weeks passed without
incident, she began to hope that she’d be able to work until the
baby was born without any problems.

She checked his schedule on her computer
screen. A Ms. Gardner had an appointment at noon. Hannah had spoken
with her on the phone, the week before. Ms. Gardner was one of Mr.
Jamison’s pro-bono clients. Although he specialized in contract
law, he had also developed expertise in helping single mothers
obtain support payments from delinquent fathers.

Once, when she realized that the women he
helped were not paying for his legal services, she had tried to
compliment him on his community service. He’d brushed her off with
a terse, “All attorneys are encouraged to do pro bono work. It’s
good public relations for the firm.”

She couldn’t decide if he was embarrassed by
the compliment or merely trying to keep their communication on an
impersonal, businesslike level. She didn’t mind his brusque manner,
because it allowed her to keep her distance as well.

Ms. Gardner arrived ten minutes early. Hannah
was surprised by her age: she was less than twenty and already
looked worn out by life. Her hair was limp, and she had gray
circles under her eyes. Hannah hoped single parenthood would not
prove to be as difficult for her.

Ms. Gardner carried a fussy baby on her hip.
Hannah smiled with sympathy as the young woman covered her mouth to
hide a yawn. “Sleepless night?” Hannah guessed.

She nodded. “Teething.” She wearily sank into
a high backed upholstered chair. “I’m dead on my feet.”

Hannah said, “Mr. Jamison will be with you in
a few minutes. While you wait, would you like something to drink?”
The law firm kept a refrigerator full of soft drinks and fruit
juices for clients.

The baby squirmed and let out a lusty cry.
Ms. Gardner shook her head. “What I really need is to find the
ladies’ room.”

“I’m afraid none of the restrooms have
changing tables, but you –”

“Not for her, for me.” She struggled to lift
her crying baby and the diaper bag.

“Down the hall. Fourth door on the left.”
Hannah hesitated. “Would you like me to hold your daughter for a
few minutes?”

Ms. Gardner’s face lit with gratitude. “Would
you?”

Hannah walked around her desk and held out
her arms. “I’d be happy to. It will be good practice.”

The young mother noticed her rounded stomach
and asked, “When are you due?”

“Around Thanksgiving.” Hannah took the
blonde, curly headed baby and smiled down at the chubby
tear-stained face. “Hi sweetheart,” she murmured, and the little
girl stared at her in surprise. She smiled back; she must be at
least five months old. Hannah turned to the mother. “She’s
beautiful. What’s her name?”

“Sophie.”

Hannah said, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good
care of her.”

“And I’ll be just a minute,” Ms. Gardner
promised. “Thank you again.” She hurried down the hall.

The baby noticed that her mother was gone and
burst into tears again. “Shhh,” Hannah crooned, jostling the child
up and down. “Your mama will be back soon.”

Mr. Jamison burst from his office. “How’s a
man supposed to think with all that noi--” he demanded, then
stopped mid-sentence as he saw Hannah holding the baby.

Hannah smiled at his confusion. “Your noon
appointment, Ms. Gardner, was a little early. This is her daughter,
Sophie. Isn’t she darling?”

The minute the words were out of her mouth,
Hannah winced. Mr. Jamison might be a charitable man, but he was
not the kind to go gaga over a baby.

“Loud is the description I would have used,”
he said dryly. He stepped closer to the baby. “Why is she
crying?”

“Probably for a combination of reasons.
Strange environment. Strange person holding her. She wants her
mother.” She rubbed Sophie’s back, but that only made the little
girl angrier, so she stopped.

“Where is her mother?”

“Down the hall. She’ll be back any
minute.”

He frowned. Hannah guessed that he
disapproved of her babysitting, but it was too late for him to do
anything about it.

He leaned closer, whether intrigued or
appalled by this tiny, screaming creature, Hannah couldn’t tell.
She stiffened, uncomfortable with his standing so close to her.

“You’ve got a good set of lungs there, little
girl,” he said, and smiled.

Mr. Jamison rarely smiled, and to be so close
to the receiving end of it was startling. His smile made him look
younger, more approachable. Hannah wondered if there was a special
woman in his life who also received those dazzling smiles, then
reminded herself that her boss’s social life was none of her
concern.

Seizing the opportunity, Sophie grabbed Mr.
Jamison’s red tie and stuffed it into her mouth.

Hannah hastily pried the tie out of the
baby’s tiny fingers. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she wiped at the
sodden end of his tie with Sophie’s faded receiving blanket.
Deprived of her new toy, Sophie resumed crying. Hannah bounced her
up and down with no success.

He motioned to his tie. “It won’t hurt her,
will it?”

“Of course not.”

She watched in amazement as Mr. Jamison
loosened the knot at his throat, pulled the tie off over his head,
and handed it to her. “Here, she can chew on this.”

Sophie clutched the tie with glee, and once
again, quieted.

Hannah’s jaw dropped. “But your tie!”

“It will shut her up, won’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it’s worth it,” he said gruffly.
“Besides, I have another in my office.” For a few seconds, he
watched Sophie gnaw his Italian silk tie. His eyes were dark and
brooding. He reached out to touch the baby’s soft cheek in a gentle
caress.

He’d make a good father, Hannah thought with
surprise.

In a low tone, he said, “How can any man
abandon his flesh and blood?”

Hannah’s throat tightened at the raw emotion
in his voice. “I don’t know,” she said quietly.

He shook his head, and straightened, suddenly
back to his normal demeanor. He walked to his office. “Carry on,
Ms. Hansen,” he said coolly over his shoulder. “Let me know when
Ms. Gardner returns.”

#

Luke Jamison was in a foul mood. That
morning, he’d learned that his complex case in New Mexico had been
assigned to a judge who hadn’t read a case since he had been
appointed to the bench. Then at lunch, he’d sat patiently while
Margaret outlined his many character flaws. “You’re oblivious to
everything and everyone except your cases.”

“I’m having lunch with you,” he argued, but
his oldest sister didn’t give him any credit for that.

“Only because your Hannah made the
appointment,” she had countered.

And now
his Hannah
wasn’t in the
office. “Where’s Ms. Hansen?” he demanded of the girl sitting at
her desk. “And who the hell are you?”

The girl jumped. “I’m filling in while
Hannah’s at a doctor’s appointment,” she gasped. “She should be
back in an hour, sir.”

The girl, no more than twenty by the looks of
her, sounded terrified. What did she expect him to do – send her to
the guillotine?

Luke snorted in annoyance and headed back to
his office, slamming the door behind him. Ms. Hansen was gone and
some teenager was at her desk. How was he supposed to get any work
done?

Luke pulled out his phone and checked his
calendar that Ms. Hansen maintained. There it was in capital
letters: Ms. Hansen sick leave one p.m. to three-thirty. Luke
vaguely remembered her mentioning it that morning, but he’d been
dreading his lunch date with Margaret, trying to think of a way to
get out of it, and he’d paid little attention to his secretary.

He scrolled through the previous months’
data.

She’d had lot of doctor appointments lately,
at least one every month. If she were one of his previous
secretaries, he would suspect that she was job hunting. He wondered
what the problem was.

Ms. Hansen was naturally pale, but lately
she’d had a sickly look about her. And she’d gained weight. He
hoped it wasn’t a serious health problem. She was the first
competent secretary he’d had in years.

Ms. Hansen was efficient and reliable, and
best of all, she was quiet. Other than a calm, “Good morning, Mr.
Jamison,” she rarely said anything that wasn’t work related. She
was a refreshing change from all the chatty women before her who
had annoyed him with office gossip, their weekend’s activities,
their children’s illnesses.

The logical part of him knew that the other
women were merely trying to be friendly, but he didn’t want to be
friends with his secretary. He didn’t have much time for friends,
and even if he had, too much friendship undermined the co-worker
relationship.

Luke tapped a pencil on his desk blotter. Now
that his curiosity about Ms. Hansen’s health was aroused, he
wouldn’t be satisfied until he had an answer.

With sudden decision, he left his papers and
headed down the hall to the Human Resources office.

Ms. Dulane was not pleased to see him, but
her voice was professionally polite as she asked, “How can I help
you, Mr. Jamison?”

Luke hesitated. Technically, it was none of
his business why Ms. Hansen was taking so much sick leave, but it
was affecting his work schedule, he rationalized. He said, “It’s
about Ms. Hansen.”

The director said, “I knew it was too good to
last. Why can’t you treat your secretaries better? I can’t keep
pulling them out of a hat like a magician. What did you do this
time?”

Why did she automatically assume that he had
done something wrong? His voice grew louder. “Nothing. I –”

She would not let him finish. “Hannah Hansen
has the patience of a saint and I don’t want to lose her.”

“And you won’t,” he said quickly. “I’m very
happy with her work, and she’s happy with me.” As he spoke, he felt
a twinge of conscience. He had no idea whether Ms. Hansen was happy
working for him or not.

She rarely revealed any of her thoughts or
emotions.

She would make a good poker player
, he
thought, then returned to the issue at hand. “Actually, I am
concerned about the number of doctor appointments she’s had
lately.”

“Employees have the right to seek medical
treatment, Mr. Jamison. I’m sorry if it inconveniences you, but as
long as she gives you sufficient notice and arranges for a floater
to take over her duties, there’s little I can do.”