Chapter Three

Holly sat on the thick Persian carpet the day after the showing, holding young Maximillian Rafferty, II—or Max Deuce, as his father sometimes called him—and looked at her good friend and employer. “Julia, it was fantastic. We’ve got orders pouring in, the press has been very kind. I think it was the snazzy hors d’ oeuvres. We served great stuff this time, even if my own taste runs more to little hot dogs in pieces of pastry. I actually saw the reporter from Women’s Wear Daily tipping a plate of the shrimp-on-a-stick into her purse.”

Julia laughed as she pushed a lock of her sleek burnt cinnamon hair behind one ear. “I wish I could have been there, and the little guy seems to be fine today, but I just couldn’t leave him yesterday after we got back from the doctor’s office. This mom stuff is all-consuming.”

Holly looked around the room, furnished in comfortable overstuffed couches, fine antiques and a half dozen colorful infant toys. The condo was huge, two floors and magnificent. It was also a home, a well-loved, lived-in home. “You’re doing a bang-up job, Julia. And Max is still so cockeyed over this little guy that I’m surprised he hasn’t had him surgically attached to his hip.”

“He talked about it,” Julia said with a smile as she sipped hot tea from a china cup. “And it doesn’t hurt that Max-Two here was born on his daddy’s birthday. I don’t know if I get any credit here at all.”

“Two Leos against one Scorpion,” Holly said, shaking her head. “Julia, you don’t stand a chance. Although I guess you’re going to try for at least one compatible Pisces or Cancer to even things out.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m not a slave to this astrology stuff, but I have to admit it, it works on Max. He can be ready to fly into one of his tempers, or go into a pout, and all I have to do is sling a compliment his way and he starts purring like a kitten. Men. They’re so…”

“Impossible,” Holly ended, then kissed the top of the baby’s head. “Except you, of course. You’re wonderful.”

The baby giggled, pressed his head back against Holly’s breasts, blinked his big blue eyes at her.

“Did you see that? Only five months old, and already showing signs of the true Leo. Compliment them and they’ll follow you anywhere. And drool on you,” Holly added, swiping at little Max’s chin with a corner of the soft cloth Julia had tossed over her shoulder when she took Max, telling her that it was either keep a drool cloth handy or be covered with damp spots on her clothing.

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