the co-guardian instead of me,' Emmy said.
'It isn't an issue,' Dylan repeated.
Patronising, pompous idiot. Emmy kept a rein on her temper. Just. 'Don't you
think this discussion ought to include her?'
'You're the one who said we needed to talk.'
'We do.' She switched into superpolite mode, the one she used for difficult clients, before she was tempted to strangle him. 'Could you perhaps phone her and see when's a good time for her to join us?'
'No,' he said tightly.
Superpolite mode off. 'Either she really, really trusts you,' Emmy said, 'or you're even more of a control freak than I thought.'
'It isn't an issue,' Dylan said, 'because we're separated.' He glared at her.
'Happy, now?'
What? Since when had Dylan split up with his wife? And why? But Emmy damped the questions down. It wasn't any of her business. Whereas Tyler's damped the questions down. It wasn't any of her business. Whereas Tyler's
welfare-that was most definitely her business.
'I guess it makes this issue a bit less complicated,' she said. Especially given
what the social worker had suggested to her yesterday-something Emmy had
baulked at, but which might turn out to be a sensible solution now.
She took a sip of coffee. 'Maybe,' she said slowly, 'Pete and Ally thought that
between us we could give Tyler what he needs.'
He narrowed his eyes at her. 'How do you mean?'
'We have different strengths.' And different weaknesses, but she wasn't going
to point that out. They were going to need to work together on this, and now wasn't the time for a fight. 'We can bring different things to his life.'
He folded his arms. 'So I do the serious stuff and you do all the fun and glitter?'
Emmy had been prepared to compromise, but this was too much. And this was
exactly why she'd disliked Dylan from practically the moment they'd met.
Because he was judgemental, arrogant, and had the social skills of a rhino. Either
he genuinely didn't realise what he'd just said or he really didn't care-and she wasn't sure which. She lifted her chin. 'You mean, because I work with pretty, shiny things, they distract my poor little female brain from being able to focus
on anything real?' she asked, her voice like cut glass.
His wince told her that he hadn't actually meant to insult her. 'Put that way, it sounds bad.'
'It is bad, Dylan. Look, you know I have my own business. If I was an airhead, unable to do a basic set of yearly accounts and work out my profit margins, then I'd be starving and in debt up to my eyeballs. Just to clarify the
situation for you, that's not the case. My bank account's in the black and my business is doing just fine, thank you. Or will you be requiring a letter from my bank manager to prove that?'
He held her gaze. 'OK. I apologise. I shouldn't have said that.'
'Good. Apology accepted.' And maybe she should cut him some slack. He'd
said that Pete was as close to him as a brother, so right now he was obviously hurting as much as she was. Especially as he was having to deal with a relationship break-up as well. And Dylan Harper was the most formal, uptight
man Emmy had ever met, which meant he probably wasn't so good at emotional
stuff. No doubt lashing out and making snippy remarks was his way of dealing
with things. Letting it go-this time-didn't mean that she was going to let him walk all over her in the future.
'OK, so we don't get on; but this isn't actually about us. It's about a little boy who has nobody, and giving him a stable home where he can grow up knowing who has nobody, and giving him a stable home where he can grow up knowing he's loved and valued.' And this wasn't the first time she and Dylan had had to
put their differences aside. They'd managed it for Pete and Ally's wedding.
When, come to think of it, Dylan's wife had been away on business and hadn't been able to attend, despite the fact that she worked with the groom and was married to the best man.
Emmy and Dylan had put their differences aside again two months ago, in the
same ancient little church where Ally and Pete had got married, when they'd
stood by the font and made their promises as godparents. Dylan's wife had been
absent then, too. So maybe the marriage had been in trouble for a while, and Pete
knew what was going on in Dylan's life. Which would make a bit more sense of the decision to ask both Dylan and Emmy to be Tyler's guardian.
She looked Dylan straight in the eye. 'I meant every word I said in church on my godson's christening day. I intend to be there for him.' Was Emmy implying that he wasn't? Dylan felt himself bristling. 'I meant every word I said, too.'
'Right.'
But he couldn't discern an edge in her voice-at least, not like the one that had been there when he'd as good as called her an airhead. And that mollified him slightly. Maybe they could work together on this. Maybe she'd put the baby
first instead of being the overemotional, needy mess she'd been when he'd first
met her. Emmy wasn't serious and focused, like Nadine. She was unstructured
and flaky. Something Dylan refused to put up with; he'd already had to deal with
enough of that kind of behaviour in his life. No more.
'Look, Ally and Pete wanted us to take care of their baby, if anything happened to them.' She swallowed hard. 'And the worst has happened.'
Dylan could see the sheen of tears in her grey eyes, and her lower lip actually
started to wobble. Oh, no. Please don't let her cry. He wasn't good with tears.
And he'd seen enough of them in those last few weeks with Nadine to last him a lifetime. If Emmy started crying, he'd have to walk out of the café. Because right now he couldn't cope with any more emotional pressure. As it was, he felt as if the world had slipped and he were slowly sliding backwards, unable to stop
himself and with nothing to hang on to.
She dragged in a breath. 'We're going to have to work together on this and put
our personal feelings aside.'
our personal feelings aside.'
'Fair point.' They didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. And at least she
was managing to hold the tears back. That was something. 'We'll work
together.' Dylan was still slightly surprised at how businesslike she was being.
This wasn't Emmy-like behaviour. She'd been late the first three times they'd
met, and given the most feeble of excuses. And he'd lost count of the times he'd
been over at Ally and Pete's and Ally had had to rush off to pick up the pieces
when yet another of Emmy's disastrous relationships had ended. It was way,
way too close to the way his mother behaved, and Dylan had no patience for that
kind of selfishness.
And his comment about the glitter hadn't been totally unfounded. He was
pretty sure she'd choose to do the fun things with Tyler and leave him to do all
the serious stuff. Emmy was all about fun. Which wasn't enough: sometimes you
had to put the fun aside and do what needed to be done rather than what you
wanted to do. 'So you've been looking after Tyler?'
'Since they left.' She shrugged. 'Babysitting.'
Except now it wasn't babysitting anymore. There wasn't anyone to hand Tyler
back to.
She blew out a breath. 'The social worker came to see me last night. She said
that Tyler needs familiarity and a routine. So I guess the first thing we need to do
is to set up a routine, something as near as possible to what he's used to.'
Considering the chaos that usually surrounded Emmy Jacobs, Dylan couldn't
imagine her setting up any kind of routine. But he bit his tongue. He'd already
annoyed her today. Right now he needed to be conciliatory. For his godson's
sake. 'Right.'
'And, as the solicitor said, we're sharing custody.'
'Meaning that one week you have him, the next week I do?' Dylan suggested.
'Fine. That works for me.'
'It doesn't work at all.'
He frowned at her, not understanding. 'Why not?'
'Just as Tyler gets settled in with me, I have to bring him to you; and just as
he gets settled with you, you have to bring him to me?' She shook her head.
'That's not fair on him.'
'So what are you suggesting?'
'The social worker,' she said, not meeting his gaze, 'suggested that Tyler
stays in his own home. She says that whoever cares for him needs to, um, live
there, too.'
He blinked. 'You're planning to move into Ally and Pete's house?'
She coughed. 'Not just me.'
She coughed. 'Not just me.'
What she was saying finally sank in. 'You're suggesting we live together?'
The idea was so shocking, he almost dropped his coffee.
'No.' She lifted her chin, looking affronted. 'The social worker suggests that
we share a house and share Tyler's care. Believe you me, it's not what I want to
do-but it's the most sensible solution for Tyler. It saves us having to traipse a
tired and hungry baby all over London at times that don't suit him. We'll be
fitting round him, not the other way round.'
'Share a house. That sounds like living together, to me.' Something Dylan
knew he wasn't good at. Hadn't he failed spectacularly with Nadine? His
marriage had broken up because he hadn't wanted a family and the wife he'd
loved had given him an ultimatum. A choice he couldn't accept. And now
Emmy Jacobs-a woman who embodied everything he didn't like-seriously
expected him to make a family with her?
'It isn't living together. It's just sharing a house.' Her mouth tightened, and she gave him a look as if to say that he was the last person on earth she'd choose to live with.
He needed to be upfront about this. 'I don't want to share a house with you,'
he said.
'It's not my idea of fun, either, but what else-?' She paused. 'Actually, no, there is an easy solution to this. You can agree to me having full-time care of Tyler.'
'That isn't what Pete and Ally wanted.' And he didn't think Emmy was stable
enough to look after Tyler, not permanently. Then again, Dylan couldn't imagine
enough to look after Tyler, not permanently. Then again, Dylan couldn't imagine
himself taking care of Tyler, either. He knew practically nothing about babies.
He'd never even babysat his godson. Pete and Ally had never asked him, knowing that his personal life was in chaos and his head wasn't in the right place. And Dylan was guiltily aware that he'd jumped at the excuse rather than
face up to the fact that he wasn't a very good godfather.
He'd agreed to be Tyler's guardian. Of course he had. For the same reason that Emmy had agreed, probably, wanting to support his best friend. But he'd never thought it would actually happen. He'd considered himself to be a safety
net that would never need to be used. And now...
Lack of sleep. That was why his head was all over the place. There was a black hole where his best friend had once been. And now there were all these new demands on him and he wasn't sure he could meet them. He'd promised to
be there for Tyler, and he hated himself for the fact that, now he actually had to make good on that promise, he didn't want to do it. He resented the way that a baby could wreak such havoc on his life and turn everything upside down; and then he felt guilty all over again for resenting someone so tiny and defenceless,
because it wasn't the baby's fault and-well, he was being selfish.
Emmy was offering him a get-out. It would be, oh, so easy to take it. And yet Dylan knew that he'd never respect himself again if he took it-if he did what his mother had done, and dumped all his responsibilities on someone else. If he
ignored a child who needed him.
'I know it isn't what Pete and Ally wanted,' Emmy said, clearly oblivious to the turmoil in Dylan's head. 'But it's not fair to keep uprooting Tyler, just to suit ourselves.'
'He's a baby. He's not even going to notice his surroundings,' Dylan said.
'Actually, he is. And if we did alternate weeks he'd have to get used to two different sets of rules, two different atmospheres. That's too much to expect.'
'And you're an expert on childcare?' he asked, knowing how nasty it sounded but unable to stop himself, because it was easier to fight with her than to admit how mixed up and miserable he felt right now.
'No. But I've read up on it. I've spent time with him. And I know how Ally
wanted him brought up.'
'Fair point,' he muttered, feeling even more guilty. He hadn't done any of those things.
'You don't want to live with him, but you don't want to let me have full-time
care of him, either.' She sighed. 'So what do you want, Dylan?'
'Pete and Ally back. Life as it was supposed to be.' The words came out before he could stop them.
'Well, unless you can turn into a superhero and spin the world round the other way to reverse time, and then stop the accident happening...' She looked away.
'Life isn't like the movies. I wish it could be. That I could wave a magic wand
and everything would be OK again. But I can't. I'm a normal godmother, not a fairy godmother. And we have to do what's right for Tyler. To make his world as good as it can be, now his parents are gone and he has only us.'
She was right. Which made Dylan feel even more guilty. He was acting like a
spoiled brat, crying for the moon and stars. And it was wrong. 'So what do you suggest?'
'The way I see it, we have two choices. Either we do what Pete and Ally
wanted, and we find some way to be civil to each other while we bring up their
child, or you let me bring him up on my own.'
child, or you let me bring him up on my own.'
'Or I could bring him up on my own,' Dylan suggested, nettled that she hadn't
listed it as a third option.
She scoffed. 'So, what? You get a live-in nanny and dump his care on her, and
see him for two seconds when you get home from work?'
'That's unfair.'
'Is it?' she asked pointedly.
He'd rather have all his teeth pulled out without anaesthetic than admit it to
her, but it was probably accurate. 'I don't want to live with you.' He didn't want to live with anyone.
'Newsflash. I don't want to live with you, either. But I'm prepared to put Tyler's needs before mine. Just as I know Ally would've done for me, if our positions were reversed.'
And just as Pete would've done for him. Disgust at himself flared through
Dylan's body. At heart, he really was a chip off the old block, as selfish as his mother. And that didn't sit well with him. He didn't want to be like her. 'Caring for a baby on your own is a hell of a commitment.'
'I know. But I'm prepared to do it.'
'Pete and Ally knew it was too much to ask one person to do. It's why they asked us both.'
'And you've had second thoughts.' She shrugged. 'Look, it's fine. I'll
manage. I can always ask my mum for help.'
Which was a lot more than Dylan could do. And how pathetic was he to resent that?
'I need some time to think about this,' he said. Time where he could work
things out, without anyone crowding his head. Where he could do what he always did when he made a business decision: work out all the scenarios, decide which one had the most benefits and least risks. Plan things without any
emotions getting in the way and messing things up. 'How long is it until you
need to get back to Tyler?'
'Mum said she could babysit for as long as I needed. I had no idea how long
things would take at the solicitor's.'
He made a snap decision. 'OK. We'll meet again in an hour. When we've both had time to get our heads round it.'
'I don't need t-' she began, then shut up. 'You're right. I've had time to think about what the social worker said. You haven't. And it's a big deal. Of course you need time to think about it. Is an hour enough?'
He'd make sure it was. 'An hour's fine. I'll see you back here then.'
FRESH AIR. THAT would help, for starters. Dylan found the nearest park and
walked, ignoring the noise from tourists and families.
Pros and cons. He didn't want to live with anyone. He was still licking his
wounds from the end of his marriage-ironic, considering that he'd been the one
to end it. And even more ironic that, if Nadine had waited six more months
before issuing that ultimatum, she would've had her dream.
But it was too late, now. He couldn't go back. He didn't love her anymore, and he knew she was seeing someone else. Someone who was prepared to give her what he wouldn't. What hurt most now was that he'd failed at being a
husband.
That left him with a slightly less complicated situation; though it didn't make
his decision any easier. If he did have to live with someone else, an emotional, flaky woman and a tiny baby would be right at the bottom of his list. He had a business to run-something that took up as much of his energy as he could give.
He didn't have time for a baby.
But...
If he backed out, if he let Emmy shoulder all the responsibilities and look after
the baby, he'd only be able to block out the guilt for a short time. It would eat away at him, to the point where it would affect his business decisions and therefore the livelihoods of everyone who worked for him. Besides, how could he live with himself if he abandoned the child his best friend had loved so dearly?
Given how often he'd been dumped as a child, how could he do the same
thing to this baby?
He couldn't let Tyler down. Couldn't break a promise he'd made.
Which meant he had to find a way of coexisting with Emmy.
She'd said earlier that they wouldn't be living together, just sharing a house.
They could lead completely separate lives. All they'd need to do was to set up a rota for childcare and then brief each other at a handover. He could do that. OK, so he'd have to delegate more at work, to carve out that extra time, but it was doable. His flat was on a short-term lease, so that wasn't a problem. And he had no intention of getting involved with anyone romantically, so that wouldn't be a
problem in the future, either.
So the decision was easy, after all.
So the decision was easy, after all.
He walked back to the café, and was slightly surprised to find that Emmy was
already there. Or maybe she'd never left. Whatever.
'Coffee?' he asked. 'You paid last time, so this one's on me.'
'Thank you.'
He ordered coffee then joined her at the table. 'If we're going to share a house
and Tyler's care, then we need to sort out some ground rules. Set up a rota.'
She rolled her eyes. 'Obviously. Childcare and housework.'
'Not housework. We'll get a housekeeper.'
She shook her head. 'I can't afford to pay a housekeeper.'
'I can. So that's settled.'
'No. This is shared equally. Time and bills.'
Did she have to be so stubborn about this? It was a practical decision. The idea was to look at how they could make this work, with the least pain to both of them. Why do something he didn't have time for and didn't enjoy, when he
could pay someone to do it? 'Look, I'm going to have a hard enough time fitting
a baby into my work schedule, without adding in extra stuff. And I'm sure it's the same for you. It makes sense to pay someone to clean the house and take some of the pressure off us.'
'I can probably stretch to paying someone to clean for a couple of hours a week,' she said, 'but that's as far as it goes.'
'So you're saying we both have to cook?'
'Well, obviously. It's a bit stupid, both of us cooking separately. It makes sense to share.' She stared at him. 'Are you telling me you can't cook?'
He shrugged. 'I shared a house with Pete at university.' And Emmy must know how hopeless Pete was-had been, Dylan corrected himself with a jolt-in the kitchen. 'So it was starve, eat nothing but junk, or learn to cook.'
'And what did you opt for?'
Did she really have to ask? He narrowed his eyes at her, just to make the point
that she was being overpicky. 'I learned to cook. I only do basic stuff-don't
expect Michelin-star standard-but it'll be edible and you won't get food poisoning.' He paused as a nasty thought struck him. 'Does that mean you don't cook?'
'I can do the basics,' she said. 'I shared a house with Ally at university.'
And Ally was an excellent cook. Dylan had never turned down the offer of a meal at his best friend's; he was pretty sure it must've been the same for Emmy.
'And she did all the cooking?' he asked.
'Our deal was that she cooked and I cleaned.' Emmy shrugged. 'Though I 'Our deal was that she cooked and I cleaned.' Emmy shrugged. 'Though I picked up a few tips from her along the way.'
But she wasn't claiming to be a superchef. Which made two of them. Basic food it would have to be. Which wasn't much change from the way he'd been living, the last six months. 'Right. So we'll pay a cleaner, and have a rota for
childcare and cooking.'
He took a sip of his coffee, though it didn't do much to clear his head. Three days ago, he'd been just an ordinary workaholic. No commitments-well, almost no commitments, he amended mentally. No commitments once his divorce papers came through and he signed them.
Today, it was a different world. His best friend had died; and it looked as if he'd be sharing the care of his godson with a woman who'd always managed to rub him up the wrong way. Not the life he'd planned or wanted. But he was just
going to have to make the best of it.
'So who looks after Tyler when we're at work?' he asked.
'We take turns.'
'I'm not with you.'
'Ally wasn't planning to go back to work until after his second birthday. She
wanted to be a stay-at-home mum and look after her own baby.' Emmy looked
awkward. 'I don't think she would've wanted us to put him in day care or get a
nanny.'
'We're not Ally and Pete, so we're going to have to make a decision that
works for both of us,' Dylan pointed out. 'We both have a business to run.
Taking time off work isn't going to happen. Not if we want to keep our
businesses running.'
'Unless,' Emmy suggested, 'we work flexible hours. Delegate, if we have to.'
'Delegate?' He frowned. 'I thought you were a sole trader?'
'I am, but you're not.'
He almost asked her if she was using the royal 'we', and stopped himself just
in time. That wasn't fair. She was trying. And he bit back the snippy comment
that she was trying in more than one sense of the word.
'Are you a morning or an evening person?' she asked.
He usually worked both. That had been another of Nadine's complaints:
Dylan was a workaholic who was always in the office or in his study. 'Either.'
'I prefer working in the evenings. So, if you're not bothered, how about you
go in early and I'll take care of Tyler; and then you take over from me at, say,
half-three, so I can get on with my work?'
'And what if I need to have a late meeting?'
'We can be flexible,' she said. 'But if you're late back one day, then you'll
'We can be flexible,' she said. 'But if you're late back one day, then you'll
have to be home much earlier, the next day, to give me that time back.' She
shrugged. 'There might be times when I have meetings and need you to take
over from me. So I guess we're going to have to be flexible, work as a team, and
cover for each other when we need to.'
Work as a team with a woman he'd always disliked. A woman who reminded
him of the worst aspects of his mother-the sort who'd dump her responsibilities
on someone else with no notice so she could drift off somewhere to 'find herself'.
Dylan pinched himself, just to check that this wasn't some peculiar nightmare.
But it hurt. So there was no waking up from this situation.
'OK. We'll sort out a rota between us.' He paused. 'I still don't want to live with you, but I guess the only option is to share the house.' It didn't mean they had to share any time together outside the handover slots.
'So when do we move in to Pete and Ally's?' she asked.
'I have to sort out the lease on my flat,' he said.
'And I'll need to talk to the bank about subletting my flat, to make sure it
doesn't affect the mortgage.'