When Stephanie had begun fretting over the lack of sophisticated fetal monitors, Letty had told her about an article she had recently read. It had claimed that fetal monitoring was not really necessary in healthy, normal deliveries.
When Stephanie had worked herself up into a state of near hysteria over the possibility that the baby was in the wrong position in the womb, Letty cited a statistic that said over ninety-five percent of all babies got into the head-down position on schedule.
And so it went. Every time Stephanie thought of something new to worry about, Letty tried to calm her by citing something reassuring she had read on the subject. Diana picked up the idea immediately and repeated the same facts over and over to Stephanie. Together they concentrated on reminding Stephanie that women had been having babies at home for aeons.
The labor had gone very swiftly, and it had been hard on all of them. All three women were bathed in sweat. Stephanie was soaking wet. Diana mopped her brow. Letty wished she had someone to mop her brow. This business of giving birth was very messy. The articles she'd read had failed to mention just how messy. They had glossed over that part, just as they had glossed over the level of pain the mother endured.
“I think I hear a car,” Diana said suddenly.
Letty ignored her. She was too busy watching Matthew Christopher's tiny head appear. “He's almost here, Steph. Push. Help her push, Diana.”
Diana gripped Stephanie's hand as Stephanie screamed again.
Her awareness of Stephanie's pain was the worst part of this whole thing, Letty thought. The only solution was to try to step back from it emotionally and concentrate instead on Matthew Christopher.
“His head is clear,” Letty said triumphantly. She reached out to cradle the infant as he barged head first into the world. “I've got one shoulder. Both. Stephanie, he's beautiful. And he is a boy. On the APGAR scale of one to ten, I'd say he's a twenty.”
“My baby,” Stephanie breathed, sounding dazed. “Let me see my baby.”
Matthew Christopher whimpered loudly, expressing his extreme displeasure with the entire procedure just as the front door of the house flew open.
“What the hell's going on in here?” Joel shouted from the living room. “Letty? Letty, are you okay?”
“Stephanie?” Morgan's voice sounded frantic. “Where are you?”
“Morgan?” Stephanie called weakly. “Morgan, our baby is here.”
Letty quickly wrapped Matthew Christopher in clean towels and laid him in Stephanie's arms. Then she turned toward the door of the bedroom and saw Joel and Morgan standing there looking stunned.
She smiled at her father. “Come and meet your son, Dad.”
“Good God Almighty.” Morgan's awed gaze went from Matthew Christopher to Stephanie. His eyes lit with a loving tenderness and concern. He took a step forward. “Stephie my dear, are you all right?”
“I'm fine,” she whispered, obviously dazzled by the infant in her arms. “We're all fine. It was a piece of cake, as they say. Letty had read several articles on the subject, you see.”
Letty went with Joel when he told her he had to talk to Diana. They found her alone in the kitchen. She was methodically rinsing coffee mugs at the sink. She glanced over her shoulder when they walked slowly into the room.
“It's about Daddy, isn't it?”
“He's dead, Diana.”
“I know.” She put a clean mug on the drainboard. “I think I knew it when you arrived.”
Joel looked at her, his gaze somber. “I don't know how to tell you this. But I'm sorry for all you've been through.”
Diana stood quietly at the sink, gazing out the window at the afternoon sun on the snow. “Do you want to know what I feel, Joel? I feel a sense of relief. I'm not happy or sad. Just relieved. It's over at last. I feel as if I'm emerging from hell, thanks to you and Keith.”
Matthew Christopher cried out from the vicinity of the bedroom, a lusty, demanding little cry signifying new life and new hope. Diana's head turned toward the sound.
Letty smiled and went forward to put her arms around her. “Now you and Keith can have your own baby.”
Tears streaked Diana's face as she hugged Letty, but she was smiling. “Yes. It's safe now, isn't it? Thank, God. Now it's finally safe to have Keith's baby.”
“I wasn't sure how she'd take it,” Joel said later that night as he lay in bed with Letty.
“Diana's going to be all right.” Letty curved herself into his warmth, grateful that he was there beside her and that he was safe. Outside, the storm had long since ceased. “How are you taking it?”
“I'm all right.” Joel's arm tightened around her. “He murdered my father, Letty. He thought it was me in the car that night, and he forced it off the road.”
Letty touched him gently. “At least you know for certain what really happened that night. As bad as they are, you finally have the answers.”
“Yeah.” Joel was quiet for a moment. “Knowing for sure what happened makes it easier to handle, for some reason. It was not knowing the truth that had been eating at me all those years.”
“Your father's death has been avenged. And you know he didn't kill himself because of you. Can you let go of the past now?”
Joel looked at her. “I think I started to let go of the past the day I met you.”
Letty smiled tremulously. “Fair enough. I did the same with a lot of my own past when I met you.”
“In any event,” Joel continued softly, “I don't have much choice but to put it all behind me, do I? I'm going to be too busy with my future to worry about my past. Speaking of which, you looked very interesting with a baby in your arms, Madam President.”
“Interesting?”
“Yeah. Interesting. I liked it. I can see you in our new ad campaign already. We'll photograph you holding a baby in one arm and pitching a Pack Up and Go tent with the other. Real hardy pioneer stuff, you know?”
“Forget it. That ad campaign has to be finished in three weeks, and it takes nine months to have a baby.”
“Well,” Joel said, “I guess maybe we'd better get started right away.” He rolled over on top of her, covering her body with his own and crushing her deep into the thick mattress.
“Hold it,” Letty said, already breathless. “Where I come from, we don't start planning babies until we've planned the wedding.”
“Don't worry about it, one way or another there's going to be a wedding before next spring.” Joel kissed her throat.
“You're sure?”
“I'm sure.” He kissed her mouth.
“I don't know, Joel,” Letty said with a tiny considering frown. “I was just starting to get used to the idea of an affair.”
“I told you, you're not really cut out for an affair, Letty.”
“I thought I was handling it very well,” she said.
“You're not the type.”
“I'm not so sure about that. I mean any woman who can do what I did to you in your office is the type who can handle anything.”
“Trust me. You were not cut out to have an affair.” He ran his hand down over her thigh, found the hem of her nightgown, and tugged it upward.
“What about all the passion and pizzazz?” Letty smiled up at him, her hands moving on his shoulders. “I'm really enjoying that part, Joel.”
Joel laughed softly in the shadows. “Passion and pizzazz are our middle names, Letty my love. We've got enough to last us for the rest of our lives.”
Her smile turned quizzical. “And what about Thornquist Gear?”
Joel shrugged. “Everyone's going to say I married you to get my hands on the company. I can deal with it. I didn't think I could before today, but things have changed. I feel differently now. I think I've put a few things into perspective.”
“No.” Letty cradled his face between her palms. She looked up at him, knowing what she wanted to do. “No one's going to say you married me to get your hands on the company. Joel, you built Thornquist Gear. You put everything you had
into it. You've fought for it and you've nourished it and you've protected it. Thornquist is your baby, and I have no moral right to it.”
“Letty, it's just a business. Don't get emotional about it.”
She grinned. “You're a fine one to talk. You're the most emotional man I know.”
“The hell I am,” he muttered. “I have a lot more self-control than you do, Madam President.”
“Let's not argue about that,” Letty said. “I have a deal to offer you.”
Joel went still. “A deal?”
Letty took a deep breath. “I'll sell Thornquist to you before the wedding. Same terms Great-Uncle Charlie was going to give you.”
“It's all right, Letty. You don't need to do that.”
She touched his cheek. “You don't understand. I didn't really understand myself until now. I thought I needed the company in order to give me the fresh start I wanted in life. And maybe I did need it at first. But I don't need it any longer. New beginnings, the kind that last, come from within. We make them for ourselves.”
“And now you think you no longer need Thornquist Gear to add excitement and adventure to your life?”
“No. I've got everything I need.”
“What if I told you I no longer need the company, either?”
“I'd say we have a problem on our hands.”
Joel chuckled. “I didn't say I didn't want it; I just said I could live without it. But as it happens, neither of us has to prove we don't need Thornquist Gear. You are not going to sell the company to me, Letty.”
“I'm not?”
Joel rolled off of her and onto his back. He pulled her down on top of him. “No.”
Letty stiffened. “But, Joel…”
“I am not a hotshot CEO for nothing, Madam President. I've got a counterproposal.”
“I'm listening.”
He smiled with satisfaction. “We'll split the company fifty-fifty. I'll buy out half of Thornquist Gear. You keep the other half. We'll own it jointly.”
“But, Joel…”
He put his fingers firmly over her mouth. “That's my offer. Take it or leave it. But don't try giving me all of Thornquist, because I don't want it. I intend to share it with you, Letty.”
She laughed softly. “Will I still get to be president?”
Joel grinned. “You bet. And I'm going to remain CEO. Deal?”
“Deal.?”
He pulled her face down to his and kissed her with a thoroughness that was more binding than any contract.
Joel awoke a few hours later. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly one. Letty stirred beside him. The dream?” she asked softly.
He searched his mind for the remnants of the old nightmare. Then he waited for the rush of adrenaline.
Nothing.
“No,” Joel said. “I just woke up. But I don't think I was dreaming.”
She pressed herself against him. “It's over,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
Joel cuddled her close and went back to sleep.
Two months later Joel loped down the stairs to the third floor and strode along the hall to the conference room. He walked through the door and stopped short at the sight of Letty held high in the arms of a huge blond Adonis.
Muscles bulged and rippled beneath the male model's bronzed skin. The leather shorts he was wearing were strained across thighs the size of tree trunks. His dazzling blue eyes and sparkling white teeth flashed in the fluorescent lighting.
Letty looked very small and fragile cradled against the bodybuilder's massive chest. One of her black pumps had fallen to the floor, and Joel was outraged at the sight of her pretty little bare foot being exposed to all and sundry.
“Would you mind putting the president of Thornquist Gear back on her feet?” Joel said coldly.
The Adonis blinked and looked immediately alarmed. “Sure. Sorry about that.” He hastily set Letty back on the floor.
“Hello, Mr. Blackstone.” Letty smiled cheerfully as she struggled to tuck in her blouse and straighten her rumpled jacket.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Blackstone. Who the hell is this and what does he think he's doing carting you around like a sack of potatoes?”
“This is Mark,” Letty said. “He's going to be the model for our new ad campaign. You know, the one aimed at the experienced high-country backpacker and rock climber.”
“I trust he's not going to try to pack you into the high country?”
“Heavens, no. He was just proving to me that he could lift a hundred and twenty pounds of camping and climbing gear, weren't you, Mark?”
“Yes, ma'am.” Mark flashed another perfect smile.
Letty examined him with professional admiration. “I think he's going to look just great climbing a glacier or something with lots of Thornquist Gear on his back. This new campaign is going to be smashing.”
“Speaking of the new campaign, I have a few things to discuss with you concerning it, Mrs. Blackstone.” Joel braced one elbow against the door frame and glowered at her. He lowered the file he was holding in one hand and tapped it against his leg.
Letty's brows rose behind her glasses. “Is there a problem?”
“There is one hell of a problem,” Joel bit out. “The campaign is apparently fifty thousand dollars over budget.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that. Would you care to explain where the money is going, Madam President?”
Letty laughed up at him with warm, loving eyes. “Certainly, Mr. Blackstone. Do you want to hear the explanation before or after I tell you that I have every reason to believe I'm pregnant?”
That very morning Joel had decided that it was probably not possible for him to be any happier than he was already. Now he realized he was wrong. He forgot about the little matter of a fifty thousand dollar cost overrun and started to grin like an idiot.
“You're pregnant?” Joel ignored the embarrassed expression on the face of the blond Adonis. “You're going to have our baby?”
“It would appear so.” Letty pushed her glasses up onto her nose and smiled demurely. “What do you say to that, Mr. Blackstone?”
Joel tossed the file over his left shoulder. The data on the ad budget was sent flying into the air.
Eyes gleaming, he walked over to Letty and lifted her carefully into his arms. “I say the hell with the fifty thousand dollars. What's a few bucks between a president and her CEO?”
“I knew you'd be reasonable about it, Joel.”
Joel carried her out the door and down the hall. “Let's go back to my office, Mrs. Blackstone, and discuss something far more important than ad budget overruns.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Blackstone.” Letty glowed up at him. “And this time we must remember to lock the door before we start our discussions.”
Joel's laughter echoed down the halls of Thornquist Gear. Life was very good.
Jayne Ann Krentz, Perfect Partners
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