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Not only would her father’s company be at risk of going under, but Flint Collins’s job security would be at risk, as well—if he wasn’t the thief.
So, in a way, she could be helping him by spying on him.
The thought was a stretch.
Tamara went with it anyway. She was going to help her father. She’d been her parents’ only shot at being grandparents and she’d failed them there. She knew it wasn’t her fault but...
She wasn’t going to fail them here.
* * *
Flint had called ahead to make certain they wouldn’t have to wait for a table. He’d requested a booth—strictly for the privacy. The fact that they got one by the window facing the ocean was a gift, but one he wasn’t surprised to receive. He frequented the restaurant. Almost always with clients who had a lot of money to spend.
“Excuse me a second,” he said, pulling out his phone as soon as they’d ordered drinks. Raspberry iced tea for both of them, something the restaurant was known for. Touching the icon for the new app he’d downloaded that morning at the Bouncing Ball Daycare, Flint waited for the portal to open. Mallory Harris had cameras installed in the nursery and with the app he could check in on Diamond Rose whenever he wanted.
Mallory was also keeping a detailed feeding spreadsheet for him—at his request—but, as it turned out, something she normally did anyway.
He’d checked in on his new family member before heading down to the lobby and his meeting with Tamara. But half an hour had passed since then.
That was the longest he’d gone without seeing his baby sister since she’d been placed in his arms the day before. In the office, he’d had his phone propped up on his desk where he could see the screen app at all times.
She’d cried twice to be fed, an hour after he’d dropped her off and then an hour and a half later. He hoped he hadn’t missed the next one...
Almost as though on cue, the sound came—a little warning first, more of a cough than a cry. But if they didn’t get to her soon, she’d be wailing so hard it would sound like she was going to suffocate or something.
As the second cry followed the warning, a foot hit his shin under the table.
“I’m sorry.” Tamara moved in the booth, placing herself more to his left rather than directly across from him.
The accidental touching of their bodies under the table wasn’t attention-worthy. But her hands were clasped so tightly together he could see her knuckles were white.
She was tense.
Because he’d been looking at his phone rather than listening to her questions? He couldn’t blame her, really; this was a business lunch. But their food hadn’t even been delivered yet.
Still, he set the phone on its stand, pushing it off to his right. He could keep an eye on it and still give her his attention.
“I’m the one who should apologize,” he told her in his most affable tone. “Being on my cell—that was rude of me.” He couldn’t afford to have her thinking that he was wasting business time on personal pursuits. He needed her to know he was in no way a threat to the company’s efficiency.
On a hunch, and feeling frie
ndly toward her due to her help the day before—the godsend her friend Mallory was turning out to be—he moved the phone so she could see.
“Mallory has cameras installed, and that means I can keep an eye on Diamond Rose,” he explained. And then hastened to add, “This allows me to set my mind at ease where she’s concerned so I can focus fully and completely on the job at hand. I’m all yours.”
She was staring at his phone, her lips tense now, too.
“I’m glad things worked out with Mallory,” she said, her delivery giving no indication that she was upset with him or his activity. On the contrary, she sounded genuine.
Diamond Rose’s cries were growing more intense. Tamara looked around them and although his phone’s volume was already on its lowest setting, he muted it completely. Mary Beth, the grandmotherly woman Mallory had introduced to him this morning as one of the Bouncing Ball’s full-time nursery personnel, appeared on screen, scooping up the baby and holding her close.
Flint relaxed as Diamond Rose snuggled against Mary Beth. He’d made it in time for feeding.
“How’d it go last night?” Tamara was smiling at him now.
He’d thought her heaven-sent before, but that smile... Yeah, she was something.
“With the baby, I mean,” she added when he failed to respond in a timely fashion. She was watching him, not his phone. And seeming to care about more than just the business reason for their lunch.
