Free Dear Cupid by Julie Ortolon

then.” Mary Pat grinned. “The special today is bangers ‘n’ mash. You like pub grub, Mike?”
    “Absolutely,” he answered.
    “How about ale?” She narrowed her eyes in a way that reminded him very much of Kate.
    “Are you kidding?” He grinned to let her know the answer was yes. “I prefer brown over blonde it you have it.”
    “Well, all right then. Have a seat.” She hollered their order toward the kitchen, then turned back. “You two enjoy your lunch. I’ve got to get back to work. And Kate, next time you drop by, bring that handsome man of yours, Dylan. I haven’t seen him in a gnat’s age.”
    Dylan?
Mike’s mind stumbled over the name.
Who the hell is Dylan?
“I like your cousin,” he said absently as he took his seat.
    “Thanks.” Kate chuckled. “I kind of like her too. Most of the time.”
    “So ...” He drummed his fingers on the table. Dylan couldn’t possibly be a husband, could he? No, he dismissed that notion. If Kate were married, she surely would have mentioned it by now. A boyfriend, then? That would certainly explain her insistence that they not become involved. “So,” he started again, trying to sound casual. “Who’s Dylan?”
    “Hmm?” She glanced at him. “Oh, my son.”
    “Your ... son?” His head dropped forward as his brain tried to function around that bombshell.
    “Yeah.” Her expression softened with pride. “He’s seven, and the smartest kid in his class.”
    “Seven,” he repeated numbly. He wasn’t sure whether he felt shocked or relieved to learn Dylan was her son, not her lover. “I, um, take it the father is no longer in the picture?” He regretted the question instantly as he watched the wall of wariness drop back over her features.
    “Of course Edward is still in the picture ... when he cares to be, which isn’t often. We’re divorced.”
    “I see.”
    She eyed him with cool detachment. “Do you have a problem with that?”
    “No, no problem. I just didn’t picture you as having a kid.”
At least not one that isn
’
t mine
. What an egotistical and ignorant assumption, he realized, as if she’d spent her whole life simply waiting for him to show up. God, he felt like a jerk.
    She leaned back in her seat. “I take it then that you don’t like children.”
    “No, I do,” he assured her. “I love kids. In fact, I’d like to meet him,”
    “No.” She shook her head slowly. “Definitely not.”
    “Why not?”
    “Mike.” She folded her hands on the table. “I think we need to get one thing straight. I am working for you, temporarily, because, quite frankly, I have no choice. My personal life, however, is my own. Understood?”
    “Certainly,” he assured her, even as the words “have no choice” repeated in his head. How could he have been so stupid as to blackmail her into working for him? He debated how to fix that blunder without her walking out on him. He had to say something, though. “Kate, I, uh, have a confession to make.”
    “Oh?” If possible, her expression became even more guarded.
    “I ... lied, yesterday, when I said I’d bad-mouth your friend’s business if you refused to work for me.”
    She studied him a long time, then nodded slowly. “I already figured that out. You’re not cold-blooded enough to follow through with something like that.”
    He frowned in confusion. “But if you knew I was bluffing, why’d you say you had no choice about working for me?”
    “Honestly?” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Mostly because I need the money.”
    “Oh,” he said, not particularly liking the answer. He’d prefer she spent time with him because of the attraction between them, not because he was paying her.
    Their lunch arrived, and Mike spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating the possibility that the attraction wasn’t mutual. Maybe it was all one-sided, and he was setting himself up for a huge belly flop. By the time they returned to his house and parted company, he was more confused