Mommy Tracked by Whitney Gaskell

me?” he asked hopefully, yawning widely.
    Juliet shook her head. “Not a chance,” she said, pulling her mug closer, as though he might try to fight her for it.
    Patrick’s face fell, and he scratched his side. “How was your run?”
    “Fine. Shouldn’t you get the girls up? They’re going to be late for school.”
    Juliet stepped past Patrick and into their walk-in closet to appraise her wardrobe. She usually wore tailored pantsuits to work, but lunch with Alex Frost called for something…sexier. Juliet began pushing through her clothes, whipping one hanger over at a time. A tan Brooks Brothers pantsuit. A gray tropical-wool Brooks Brothers pantsuit. A navy-blue pinstriped Ann Taylor pantsuit. Another gray wool Brooks Brothers pantsuit.
    Jesus , Juliet thought. When was the last time I bought girl clothes?
    Masculine was usually her preferred look. Despite articles in the bar magazines about family-friendly law firms, flextime, and paternity leave, the law was still a male-dominated, old-school profession. The only chance a woman had to succeed was if she turned herself into a virtual man, at least during business hours.
    She paused at the black strapless Nicole Miller dress she’d worn to a wedding two summers ago. It was sexy, in a tailored, minimalist sort of way. Would it work if I wore it with a blazer? No, probably not , she thought, and pushed the dress aside.
    Just when she was about to give up and pull out her standard black pantsuit, she spotted the chocolate-brown skirt suit she’d bought at The Limited back when she was in law school, broke, needed something for interviews, and still thought that showing her legs off might benefit her professionally.
    Perfect , she thought. The skirt was short without being slutty, and the jacket nipped in at the waist. Suitable for work but not too masculine. And maybe, just maybe, Alex would notice her legs.
    Juliet pulled out the suit, neatly hung on a wooden hanger, and retrieved a white oxford shirt that had been crisply pressed at the dry cleaner. She laid the suit and shirt out on the bed, then stripped out of her sweaty jogging clothes. Just as she was tossing her shorts in the clothes hamper, Patrick returned with a steaming mug of coffee. He took in her naked body, looking her up and down, and raised one eyebrow. He suddenly looked much more awake, and his eyes glittered with interest.
    “Can you be late for work?” he asked suggestively.
    “No,” Juliet said, walking into the bathroom. “Not today I can’t. Did you get the girls up?”
    She didn’t wait for his answer. And fifteen minutes later, when she returned from her shower, wearing a fluffy white robe, her legs cleanly shaven and her hair freshly washed, Patrick was back in bed. Asleep.
    Juliet closed her eyes briefly and tried to swallow back her irritation. How could he fall asleep? It was almost seven. She had to get ready for work and didn’t have time to get the twins off to school too. Was it really too much to expect Patrick to handle this on his own, without her nagging him every step of the way?
    “Patrick!” she said sharply.
    “I’m awake. I am.”
    “Your eyes are closed.”
    He opened one eye and looked at her blearily.
    “It’s already seven,” Juliet said.
    “Oh, crap. Is it really?”
    “Yes. Really. How late were you up last night, anyway?” she asked. Patrick had still been watching a basketball game on television when she’d gone to bed. She hadn’t heard him come up.
    “Midnight. Maybe a little later.” He stretched and scratched his chin. His beard was heavy, giving him that scruffy, unkempt look she’d found so sexy when they first started dating. His eyes started to shut again, and Juliet had to clamp down her jaw and count to five to keep herself from doing something drastic, like throwing a glass of cold water at him.
    But just as she opened her mouth, ready to calmly but firmly tell him that if he didn’t get a move on they’d be late, again , there