“For the nappies.” I pointed at the sack on the couch.
“Oh, you mean the diaper bag. We call them diapers.” She laughed. A sweet sound that made my chest tighten.
“I’ll remember that.” I nodded once. I had spent enough time in the States to remember most American words for mundane things. But anything baby related was new territory for me. “So you’ve seen the living room. Kitchen.” I pointed at the opposite end of the flat, stepping closer to her.
She shuffled away from me to face the city lights. For a split second, I wanted her to rest her cheek on my chest the way she had done last night. I rubbed the back of my neck and continued talking while she walked the length of the condo.
I had managed to land the corner unit in the building, which meant tall windows all around us that framed the city perfectly. The place was modern with sleek appliances and shiny floors. In short, a bachelor pad. She raised both eyebrows as she took in the view and the gray and beige furnishings. I liked that she seemed impressed.
“You don’t remember being here, do you?”
A quick image of her butt naked on my couch flashed in my mind. Was that just last night? It felt like she had been here months ago. It felt like she’d been on my mind for a long while.
“I do. I was so flustered when I woke up; I didn’t take the time to really look around.” She sat and placed Joey on her lap. “Not my proudest moment.”
“I can say the same about me. I was unfair earlier today. It shouldn’t matter to me how you spend your time outside work.”
And that was the truth. I chose not to tell her that the only reason I had fired her was because I couldn’t stop thinking about how she felt in my arms when I carried her down the hall, how smooth her skin was, and how intoxicating I found her scent. A part of me hated that she didn’t remember any of it.
“Why did you call me?”
“It was Casey’s idea. She was quite pissed when I told her I had fired you.”
“Joey is adorable. And you’re lucky I’m good with kids.” She swiped the side of her leg where goosebumps had spread up into her short shorts. “So, is he like your son, or…?”
“It would appear so.” I sat across from her on the oversized leather chair and braced my elbows on my knees.
God, I felt mentally drained. This baby was a huge deal. My lifestyle wasn’t made for caring for another human being. The fact that the woman who was passed out on my couch last night was now his temporary nanny said it all.
“Oh, I thought he might be.”
“Everything seems to indicate he’s mine. Mostlybecause he was left at my door and his middle name is Winston, like me. I don’t even know who his mom is. I mean, I do.” I just couldn’t place her face. “Her name is Harper Sokol. I met her on one of my trips to the city. We…um…spent some time together.”
I thought about how earlier today I tried to convince myself that I fired Isla because of her sex club escapade and how that was a bad look for Nicolas’s company. Jesus, I was the biggest hypocrite. The smirk on Isla’s face told me she thought so, too.
“Did you meet her at the Crucible?” She had to rub it in.
“As a matter of fact, I did.” I gave her what I’d been told was a charming smile just to see her squirm away from me again. “Same as you.”
“Irrelevant.” She rolled her eyes. “We’re talking about your baby momma.”
I chuckled, and suddenly this tragedy didn’t seem so daunting. “I haven’t been able to get a hold of her. And I have no idea why she left him here—no note, no text, or a call. Makes no sense.”
“That’s crazy. Did she even know you were in town? You just got here.”
“She checked with Frank, the doorman. She knew I was here. I need to find her. If he’s really mine…” I reached out to touch his hand and his chubby fingers wrapped around my thumb. “I’ll take care of him, of course. But my life is in London. There’s a lot to work out.”
I beamed at her, and she scooted away from me. She was right about that. The farther we stayed away from each other the better. I pressed my hands to my thighs and rose. “Let meshow you your bedroom. I already installed his pushchair in there. I think he can sleep there tonight.”
“I can take him shopping tomorrow.”
“I’ll give you my credit card. That is, if you’re not too proud to take my money,” I teased. But really, I wanted to know why she had refused the severance pay I offered her.
“This is different. It’s not for me. It’s for your son.”
“And before?”
“I hadn’t earned the money.” She shrugged.
