impatiently. “It’s a free country. We can’t force her to work for us if she doesn’t want to.”
Christian stood, forgetting that the receiver was connected to the telephone on the hotel nightstand. He started to pace and the phone fell with a discordant clang. For an instant he was afraid he’d severed the connection.
“You there?” he asked his brother.
“Yes. What happened?”
“Nothing. I dropped the phone.” Christian rammed his fingers into his dark blond hair and winced at the unexpected twinge of pain. “You might’ve tried talking her into staying.”
“I talked until I was blue in the face. I tried everything short of out-and-out bribery. I have to tell you, Christian, I blame you for this. You haven’t done a damn thing to help, you know.”
“How can I help when you’re in Hard Luck and I’m in Seattle?” His irritation was fast turning to anger. This whole business with Mariah didn’t make sense. It should’ve been obvious to Sawyer—to anyone with half a brain—how crucial it was to keep Mariah with Midnight Sons. She knew more about the office than the two brothers combined. True, there’d been a time, not so long ago, when he’d have willingly replaced her. But he’d undergone a change of heart in the week she’d been away. And the week he’d been away...
“It seems to me I’m the one stuck here with all the problems,” Sawyer said, his voice hard. “As I recall, last year you were off in Seattle dating your cover model, and I had to deal with the avalanche of problems you’d created. It’s the same thing all over again.”
“Now just a minute—”
Sawyer didn’t allow him to finish. “You’d better remember exactly whose idea it was to bring women to Hard Luck in the first place.”
“Yeah, but if it wasn’t for me you’d never have met Abbey.” Christian played his trump card before this argument with his brother could deteriorate any further.
Sawyer sighed deeply, and Christian could virtually hear his anger drain away. “True.”
“I’ll talk to Mariah myself,” Christian said, feeling confident he’d succeed where his brother had failed. If she’d listen to anyone, it would be him. He felt they’d come to an understanding in the last while. Mended fences and all that.
“Fine, but you should know that it’s because of you she’s decided to quit.”
“Me?” Sawyer must have misunderstood. His relationship with Mariah had taken a dramatic turn for the better. Or so he’d assumed.
“She seems to think you’re bringing Allison back with you, so she’s stepped aside.”
“You’re joking! What made her think that?”
Sawyer’s frustration was palpable. “You did, little brother. You managed all of this single-handedly.”
“Me? How?”
“You told me you planned to talk Allison into giving Hard Luck another shot.”
He’d said that? Christian pressed his hand against his brow. “Well, I didn’t. She’s not coming.”
Christian’s words were followed by a stiff silence. “That wasn’t the impression you gave me,” Sawyer eventually said. “And Mariah overheard the conversation.”
Christian cursed.
“Mariah felt that if Allison returned to Hard Luck, there wouldn’t be enough work for two full-time secretaries.”
“You’d better let me talk to Mariah,” Christian muttered. “I’ll straighten this out.”
“It’s too late,” Sawyer said with a heavy sigh. “She’s already got another job. Apparently she and Ben have come up with this scheme—”
“Mariah and Ben?”
“Right. She’s going to be his assistant, help in the kitchen, wait tables, that sort of thing.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!”
“I swear it’s true.”
“Let me talk to her,” Christian demanded again. He could foresee trouble already—for Ben, as well as for Midnight Sons. Obviously Ben hadn’t remembered how clumsy Mariah was. He’d never known a woman more inclined to trip over her own feet.
“She isn’t here,” Sawyer murmured. “I have a feeling we’re going to lose the best secretary we ever had, and frankly, Christian, I hold you responsible.”
This didn’t seem to be the moment to remind Sawyer that Mariah was the first and only secretary Midnight Sons had ever had.
* * *
No one responded to Bethany’s knock at the back door of the Hard Luck Café. She tried again, then turned the knob—the door was open. She let herself inside.
“Ben?” she called.
No answer. A sliver of light peered out from beneath the door that led upstairs to Ben’s private quarters.
Bethany opened the door and peered up the stairway. “Ben!” she called again. Smiling to herself, she climbed the stairs. More than likely he was asleep in his chair.
She was right. He lay stretched out on the recliner, the television guide on his lap. His head was tipped back, and he was snoring lightly.
“Ben.” Bethany pressed her hand over his.
His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked. “Bethany? What time is it?”
“Nine.”
“Nine,” he repeated. “That’s early yet.”
“Yes, I know.”
He leaned forward, yawning, then reached for the remote control and turned off the TV. “I must’ve fallen asleep. Guess I’m beginning to feel my age. Soon I’ll be an old man.”
Shaking her head, Bethany sat down on the love seat. “Not you. Never you.”
She could see that her words pleased him. “It’s good to see you. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
She slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her. “Mitch is on patrol and Chrissie’s spending the night with a friend. She’s been beside herself not knowing what to do while Susan O’Halloran’s on vacation. Those two have gotten so tight that Chrissie’s lost without her. I think it’s a good idea for her to make other friends.”
“Are you ready for school?” Ben asked.
“Yes. No,” Bethany quickly amended, and then because she couldn’t hold the news inside any longer, she blurted it out. “I’m pregnant.”
Ben’s feet slid off the recliner and hit the floor. “Pregnant!”
“Mitch and I are just as surprised—almost.” She nearly laughed aloud at his incredulous look.
“But you haven’t been married very long.”
“I know. We didn’t plan to have a baby this soon, that’s for sure. It was just...one of those things.”
Ben’s eyes lit up. “Unplanned pregnancies are sometimes the very best kind,” he said, nodding sagely.
Bethany knew he was referring to her own birth. He’d had an affair with her mother before leaving for Vietnam, and because of a disagreement, he’d never known Marilyn was pregnant. He’d never known of his daughter’s existence. Bethany had learned Peter Ross wasn’t her biological father while she was in college, after her mother had experienced a cancer scare. As the years progressed, Bethany had become increasingly curious about the man who’d fathered her. With a bit of detective work and the help of the American Red Cross, she’d been able to trace Ben to Hard Luck.