Steele Unexpected

Chapter 1

Remington paced back and forth in front of the window of his London hotel room as he listened to Laura on the other end of the phone line. "Laura, I know what the good doctor said, but I still don't like the idea of you flying five thousand miles, alone, in your condition."

"My condition?" Laura exploded. "Mr. Steele, I'm pregnant, not dying of some horrendous, contagious disease."

"Six months pregnant according to the last appointment we had and I, for one, worry about the safety of both my wife and my unborn child," Remington retorted. The muscle in his cheek twitched with frustration as he stopped pacing only long enough to push the curtain aside a few inches to peer out at the group of boys on the street.

"I'm going to be fine. Women fly every day, more pregnant than me. I'm going to get Harry settled over at Frances' and then I'll catch the next flight out of LA," Laura insisted.

Remington pivoted away from the window once more as he quickly added, "There… see… another reason you should be staying home. Harry is going to be lost without us. He's going to think we abandoned him with the Pipers, never to return again."

"Harry will be fine. As a matter of fact, he and I spent almost all weekend over there and he was loving every second of it. He spent so much time chasing the kids around the yard, he didn't even notice when my sister and I left to go to the store." Laura clenched her jaw and exhaled loudly.

"What do you mean you simply left him while you went to the store? What if something happened to him? Laura, is this a preview of what life is going to be like with our child… you simply dropping him or her off somewhere while you go shopping?" Remington dropped into the chair beside him.

Laura groaned audibly. "You can't be serious? Do you honestly believe I would be that reckless?"

"Right now, Laura, I'm up to my ears in paperwork and meetings, finalizing the last pieces of the puzzle for the foundation. All these delays… we should have had the doors open a month ago. The last thing I need to be doing is worrying about you on an airplane flying over the Atlantic." Remington sunk lower in the chair and propped his feet up on the edge of the bed across from him. He scratched at his hairline and closed his eyes.

"Rem, I promise. Harry is going to be fine and so will I. I'm taking the late flight so I can sleep on the plane and I'll be there in the morning to help you." Laura's voice softened reassuringly.

Remington dropped his head back and immediately stated, "No. I don't want you to come alone."

"Fine, I'll bring Harry with me," Laura replied half-heartedly.

"Laura, what an absurd suggestion. I mean, what good is a dog going to be if you fell at the terminal? Or needed help carrying your luggage?" Remington groaned. Silence was his only reply. Reminders from the doctor began to flood his mind. Try to keep Mrs. Steele's stress level low. After several long seconds of introspection, he finally relented. "Laura, if it means that much to you to be here with me to finish the interviews and last-minute paperwork, then who am I to stop you?"

Laura's gentle laughter filled his ear. "Well, you are my husband, the father of our unborn child. I guess you do have a right to be concerned… a little bit… for our safety. We will be completely fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you then. I'll be sure the hotel has a car waiting for you at the airport. Just have Mildred fill me in on all the details. Talk to you later, love." Remington hung up the phone, dragged his hands down his face, and muttered, "One of these days, she'll listen to me." He lifted his watch off the small bedside table and fumbled it onto his wrist. He patted down his pockets for the room key before heading toward the door to his suite.

Remington rode the elevator down to the main floor where he immediately headed for the bar. He signaled the bartender with a raise of two fingers. "Give me a shot of the strongest thing you've got."

"Wife troubles?" The bartender laughed. He flipped a small glass onto the countertop and reached for a bottle behind him.

"How'd you guess?" Remington tapped the top of the bar with his fingertips.

The bartender finished pouring and gently pushed the drink toward him. "You have that look. Let me guess… she's not listening to you… you want her to do one thing, and she's determined to do another?"

Remington's eyes widened at the accuracy of his description. He slung the drink back, grimaced as the fiery liquid burned his throat, and pushed the glass across the bar. "Right on the money, mate."

"Pregnant?" the bartender continued.

"What are you, a psychic bartender?" Remington gasped.

"No, I've just been at this too long. Don't you worry though… whatever it is… she'll see it your way soon enough," the bartender reassured him.

Remington laughed as he tugged a few bills from his pocket. "That's where you're wrong. I want her to stay home in Los Angeles so I can finish my business here, and she wants to hop onto a plane and join me. And my wife, being as stubborn as she is, will do just that." He dropped the money beside the empty glass with a grin.

The bartender scooped up the cash with a nod. "I look forward to meeting her. Sounds like the feisty type. My favorite kind of woman."

Remington tipped his head. "Soon enough. Have a good day, sir." He left the bar, tapping his fingers to his lips as he headed outside. A brisk wind blew past him and he tightened the collar of his jacket around his neck. He observed the boys huddling together for warmth near the doorway of the building across the street.

"Another week and the doors will be open," Remington whispered to himself. He raised his hand and whistled for the nearest taxi. He slid into the large vehicle, gave the address to the driver, and relaxed against the worn leather seat as they sped through the streets of London to his destination.

Several minutes later, he slapped a bill into the driver's hand before climbing out of the car. He stopped at the door to the law office of Carter, Faulker, Judge, Taylor, and White. He rapped on the door twice before it swung inward. Remington stepped inside the warm office and was greeted by James Cartwright, the solicitor he'd met previously. "Welcome back, Mr. Steele. Everyone is waiting for you."

Remington shook off his overcoat, hung it on the rack beside the door, and followed James into the conference room. Sitting around the table were Mr. Taylor, Lady Catherine Galt, Michael Lyons, and George Wilson, two other investors Lady Catherine had brought in.

"Now that we're all here, let's get to work. Now, Mr. Steele, Lady Catherine was just about to update us on the status of the staff you've interviewed the last two days," Mr. Taylor announced.

Remington slipped into a seat beside Lady Catherine and nodded. "We've found some excellent candidates for the Foundation, as well as individuals we feel would be helpful for support staff. I'm sure Lady Catherine will agree."

Lady Catherine smiled at Remington. "Wholeheartedly. But I do feel we are missing something… I'm just not sure what."

Remington drummed his fingers for a moment and asked, "How about you begin, and then maybe someone else will have an idea?"

"Excellent suggestion, Mr. Steele. I'm excited to hear who you and Lady Catherine agreed upon. I have to admit I wasn't too impressed with the individuals I sat in with two days ago," Mr. Lyons stated with a clap.