“What exactly do you need me for? You fired me. Remember? For illicit behavior, if I recall correctly?” I leaned my pillow against the wall, sat on it, and stretched my legs in front of me. Suddenly, my apartment didn’t feel so empty and so lonely.
“I do remember. And I deeply regret my decision. How would you like your job back?”
“As your executive admin? That’s not the job I applied for, by the way.” Omigod, did I really have the guts to haggle with the fixer? What choice did I have? I had exactly nothing to lose.
“I’m aware of that. I spoke with Casey.”
“Then you know I wanted the programmer position.”
“She mentioned that.”
“I won’t return unless it’s for the job I want.” I gritted my teeth. I had gone too far. I placed my head between my knees and waited for him to tell me off.
“Jesus fuck.” He raised his voice.
The wailing got louder, and I sat up straighter. For a second, I thought he had meant me, but then he switched to soothing tones, and I had to assume he was talking to the baby. “Whathappened?”
“He’s covered in shit. That’s what happened. Jeez, what did he have for dinner?”
“Okay.” I felt sorry for the guy. I couldn’t help it. “I’m assuming the baby came with a diaper bag?”
Moms didn’t leave the house without a fully stocked diaper bag. I had enough cousins with babies to know this small fact.
“Let me check.”
I laughed, shaking my head at the phone. As terrible as it was, I felt good knowing Declan was having a worse day than me. Or at least, equally shitty. Pun intended.
“Yes.” He yelped into the phone. “There’s a bag here with everything.”
“Do you know how to change a diaper?”
“Of course, I do. I’m not daft.”
I cocked an eyebrow and chose not to dwell on the fact that when he called, he was at the end of his rope. “Okay, then. So you’re good to go.”
“Wait. Don’t hang up. Give me a minute.” He dropped the phone on what sounded like a hard surface, maybe the kitchen counter or the floor.
I got comfortable on my pillow and imagined him in his city apartment, looking for a place to change a baby’s diaper. The look of horror I pictured on his face made me smile. I bet he looked incredibly hot holding a baby. I closed my eyes, and it was as if I were right there with him.
“He stopped crying. I think he likes our voices.”
“If he sat in his dirty diaper for a while, you may want to check for rashes or just go ahead and lather him in ointment.”
“Good thinking.” He sounded so serious now. The way doctors did on TV shows during surgery.
“So now that the baby crisis has been averted, do I have my job back, the one I want?” I figured we had to nail that down before he got too comfortable with his baby situation. And just what was that situation?
There was some breathing and then a grumpy sigh on the line. “Yes, Ms. Vendetti, you have your job back. There’s a caveat, though.”
“Oh.”
“Hi.” His smooth and deep voice was a shock to my core—to my uterus.
He hadn’t said hi to me. I knew he’d meant it for the baby, but omigod, that was a sexy hi.
“The caveat.”
“Right. I need you to take care of Joseph while I work tomorrow. Actually, until I find a suitable replacement. Then you can have your job back as a programmer.” He puffed out of breath. “I’ll need at least a month.”
