Page 6 of Single Dad Christmas

She moved a little unsteadily to the chair opposite Stuart and sat down, both hands gripping her coffee cup. “How would it work?” she asked, focusing on the facts at hand. “I’d need an exceptional team.”

“You’d have full hiring privileges. You can use whichever staff you want from the agency, and you can put out an ad for contractors if you need more.”

“But Stuart, I really don’t know what I’m doing. He looked like he was going to walk away, so I came up with some ideas on the fly?—,”

“He said they were the best ideas he’d heard all year, including from his overseas agencies. So, whatever you said, clearly impressed him.”

“He’s not in advertising either,” she pointed out, wishing her chest didn’t feel like it was swelling to bursting point with the compliment Noah had indirectly paid her.

“But I am, and I’ll work with you. If you’ll have me on your team,” he said, with a wink.

Stuart Conroy hadn’t built one of the most profitable advertising agencies in the southern hemisphere by accident. He was a natural at this stuff. Hardworking and gifted, he also operated fast, which Louisa liked.

“You don’t want to work full-time,” she reminded him. “Alice will kill me,” she nodded towards the wedding photo on his desk—his fourth wife, and definitely Louisa’s favourite. Alice was about ten years younger than Stuart, and she clearly adored him. “You’re supposed to be spending more time with her and Oscar.” Their son—a three-year-old—had been a late in life surprise for both of them. But he was completely doted upon.

“It’s only six weeks,” he pointed out.

“Over Christmas.”

He waved a hand in the air. “By Christmas, the campaign will be running like a well-oiled machine. The crunch time is now. The next two weeks are where we really need to gear up. New creatives, ad spend through the roof, we need to film footage in the hotel.” She could already see Stuart’s brain was firing on all cylinders, but it was thrilling because it was just how she’d felt in Noah’s office. She couldseethe vision of what they needed to sell, and now she was being given a chance to actualize it.

“What do you say, Loulou?” He used her childhood nickname out of habit, though they’d agreed that here, in the office, they wouldn’t advertise their long-standing family friendship.

At least if she took up this opportunity, she wouldn’t have to deal with Donovan afterward. She had the feeling he would be an unpleasant adversary, and he’d be furious at having been removed from such a blue-chip contract.

“It’s important,” Stuart said, leaning forward. “The Sydney hotel is just the beginning. The outback ranch will open inMarch, and that’s going to be worth a fortune. Then, there’s the Gold Coast next year. I want to keep him on board, at all costs.”

Louisa nodded. Stuart had taken a chance on her when she’d needed to escape, and she wasn’t going to let him down. “Of course, I’ll do it. When do I start?”

“He’s already getting a desk set up for you. What’s that expression? There’s no time like the present…”

Noah should have deletedthe message after reading it the first time. He knew she didn’t mean it. She was going through a phase.

The worst phase that had ever phased. If he had to hear his once-kind-and-loving daughter, now some kind of fifteen-year-old devil spawn, say one more lashing-out type thing, he was tempted to tear up the whole damned custody agreement.

Except, as if he could.

There was no way in hell he could send Taylor back to her mother. He might hate this stage of parenting, but he still loved Taylor, no matter how far out of line she was.

I hate you. I want to move back in with Mom.

Yeah, well, some days that was mutual. The problem was, Taylor’s mother, and Noah’s ex wife, happened to be leaning in hard to her alcoholism, and refusing to get help, no matter how hard he, and her family, tried. He had done everything he could, over the course of four years, to help her get sober. Every time he thought they were making headway, Amy would relapse. There’d been live-in therapists, long stints in rehab, meditation, hypnotism, absolutely everything that had been recommended had been attempted.

It never worked.

They’d broken up several years ago, but he’d known he couldn’t desert Amy. Nor could he leave Taylor in her care, for any period of time, and he didn’t want to sue for sole custody and make an already tenuous situation worse. He had stopped loving Amy a long time ago, but she was still Taylor’s mother, and that meant something. Actually, it meant a lot. So, he’d stayed living under the same roof, albeit a totally separate life. But when he’d come home from a business trip one day to find a passed-out Amy sprawled on the sofa, drug paraphernalia and alcohol bottles everywhere, and an oven that was just starting to smoke so badly he had no doubt the whole house would have caught fire if he hadn’t arrived when he did, he’d known he had to remove Taylor completely from the situation and allow Amy the time to focus on herself.

He hoped she was using it wisely, but according to Amy’s brother Adam, who Noah considered a friend, there was no real improvement.

Noah kept funding the therapy though, as well as the live-in housekeeper, who was responsible for keeping the house clean (and not burned down) and making sure no alcohol breached the doorstep. He was keeping everything crossed that something would help Amy get sober. He knew alcoholism was an illness, and he didn’t judge his ex-wife. He just desperately needed to know his daughter was safe.

And not just in the physical sense.

Amy Fox had been a model slash actress before they’d married, and she habitually posted things on Instagram that were borderline inappropriate. He’d managed to keep Taylor off social media up until about a year ago, when she’d downloaded the app in secret and created an account. “You can’t stop me, Dad. Thirteen is the age cut-off, anyway, and Mom says it’s fine.”

OfcourseAmy said it was fine. Amy had very little regard for how to keep their daughter safe. She also had no idea how brutalkids could be. Noah hated the idea of Amy’s antics bleeding into Taylor’s life; he wished there was some way he could keep his daughter insulated from that, fromeverything,for all time. He’d deleted the app, forbidden her from getting it again, and just hoped she’d listen to him.

He sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his hair.

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