from her chair, Annie twirled and twirled, her arms out, until she fell into a dizzy heap at J.J.’s feet. J.J. looked down at her, worried, but Jack called out, “Get up, pumpkin. You’re in the way of the tea party,” as he came into the room, hardly wasting a glance at his collapsed daughter, and Annie got up quickly enough, sitting in her chair to await her cup of tea.
Jack poured and passed the cups. Annie’s was mostly milk. J.J. took hers without sugar, so she was easy. But she watched this big man performing these housewifely chores and marveled. What had happened to him to make him so domestic? That certainly wasn’t the way she remembered him.
They chatted inconsequentially for a moment, sipping their tea, and J.J. had to admit it had a soothing effect. She had only been in the maelstrom for half an hour and she felt wrung out like an old dishrag. Jack and Annie had been in it all day. How did they manage?
Annie disappeared into the kitchen and Jack told J.J. about something cute Baby Mack had done earlier in the day, making her laugh, then about something funny Annie had said.
“How old is she?” J.J. asked, smiling.
“Five and a half,” he said with pride.
“She seems so…so wise, so articulate.”
“Oh yes.” His gaze seemed to darken. “Annie’s been through a lot. Her mother died soon after the triplets were born. And ever since, she’s had to do a lot more than any five-year-old should have to.” His voice grew husky. “She’s my gem.”
Unaccountably J.J. felt tears stinging her eyes, and she blinked them back in horror. Damn the man! He could play her like a fine violin. He seemed to know where every emotion was located and how to exploit it. She should go home.
“And what is it that you do, J.J.?” Jack asked, studying her, before she had a chance to excuse herself.
She hesitated. She didn’t really want to tell him the business she was involved in. She was afraid that might make him wary in some way. She had a feeling he didn’t want his old world to know where he was or what he was doing. She wasn’t sure why she felt that, but she did.
Something crashed in the kitchen and he rose quickly, automatically following the sounds of disaster as though it were something he did all the time. And she supposed it was. She’d never seen a more hands-on daddy in her life.
Sitting back, she gazed around the room. Toys and blankets were strewn on chairs and under tables, and stacks of clean diapers sat beside picture books and baby games. She didn’t think she’d ever been in a house so geared toward young people. Pictures dominated the decorating motif-pictures of Annie at various stages, pictures of the triplets.
She couldn’t find one of Jack, nor of any woman who might be the mother of this brood. Annie’s words came back to her—”My mother is in heaven.” You would think he would have pictures of her everywhere. She frowned. Come to think of it, you would think he would have a sadder look. Funny.
Suddenly another encounter she’d had with Jack came to mind, something she hadn’t thought about in years. There had once come a time when she’d gone in to see Jack Remington. A week or so after she’d been let go—terminated, released, fired, laid off, and all those other ugly words—she’d been in a state bordering on depression. She’d tried every other station in town with no luck, and she’d begun having paranoid thoughts that Jack might have blackbailed her. It looked as though her chances of being in the business, which had once looked so good, were fading away.
Gathering all her strength and all her courage, she’d made her way downtown and into the station, her speech of outrage and her request for mercy all nicely memorized and rehearsed, over and over again. She was ready to go to battle with the big man.
She’d bypassed the receptionist and headed straight for his office, surprised to find the door propped open and a small knot of people standing out in the hallway, watching what was going on inside. Lights had been set up, and someone with a video camera was calling out orders.
“What’s going on?” she asked someone at the scene.
“New promo for the news hour,” a secretary told her. “Jack is not enjoying this,” she added with a giggle.
And it seemed she was right. J.J. got closer and looked in. Jack’s face had a rebellious look.
“Just a few more, Jack,” Gloria Barker was saying. Executive producer of the evening news hour, she always had a slightly anxious look, as though she’d just seen the ratings and they were dropping. “This will only take another moment or so.”
The cameraman swung his camera around and announced in a voice loud enough to hear in nearby homes, “Since you’re the heartthrob of the station, we should get a shot of you mesmerizing a lady or two, don’t you think?”
Jack’s brow darkened and his full lower lip came out. “No, I don’t think. It’s not part of the job.”
Jack’s annoyance was plain on his face and J.J. sighed and fidgeted. This was not going to be a good time to approach him.
The cameraman said something else and Jack’s frown deepened. “What do you want, a seduction pose?” Jack looked incredulous. “I don’t think so.”
The cameraman spoke again. Though J.J. couldn’t make out his words, Jack’s answer was clear. He spun and demanded of Gloria Barker, “Is there anything in my contract that says I have to do this? If so, I want a renegotiation.”
“Jack. please.” She put a hand on his arm and looked up at him pleadingly. “Do this. Do it for me. It’s so important. You know the station’s in serious trouble. If we can’t bring up the ratings.”
He took a deep breath, obviously trying hard to keep his temper. His eyes seemed to glitter. “I’m a newsman, not a movie star.”
“I know that, but.Jack. I need you to do this. Just this once. Please?”
She looked up at him like an orphan in the snow, and he groaned, melting.
“All right, Gloria. For you.” He signaled the man with the photo equipment. “Fine. You want a seduction, you’ll have one. Get me a woman and let’s get this over with.”
“Yes!” the cameraman said, pumping his arm and turning to give the small crowd a quick survey.
“How about you? Would you like to be in the picture?”
J.J. turned to look behind her, wondering whom he was calling to.
“You,” he said, pointing at her. “Come on in here.”
“Me?” At first, his intention really didn’t penetrate. She was still wondering how she was going to get in to see Jack with all these people around, and how he was going to react after all this hassle, and suddenly she was being pushed and pulled into his office and someone was coming at her with a large powder puff and an eyebrow pencil. “What? Wait!”
“No time to wait. Come on.”
They tugged at her clothes and adjusted her makeup and presented her, ready to go, to Jack, who was brewing a very dark storm in his eyes.
“Are we ready?” he snapped. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Okay,” said the camera guy. “Let the wooing begin.”
Jack finally looked at her for the first time, and as she remembered it, he hesitated. He’d recognized her, but there was something else in his eyes, and whether or not it had anything to do with his having had her fired, she was never sure.
“You know.” he began. He looked down into her face and then he turned away as though there were something about her that disturbed him. But the others waved him back and he returned, shrugging.
Meanwhile, J.J. found it impossible to do anything but stand there with her mouth open, flabbergasted. How had this happened? She was about to be seduced on camera by Jack Remington.