by Leslie North
“Of course.” He served up two mugs of steaming black coffee, and then pulled out his almost-empty carton of creamer from the fridge. “But this banana is more immediate.”
Noelle started fussing then. They shared a stricken look, and Jules blurted, “You go finish getting ready so we can leave. I’ll take care of her.”
Mitch retreated with his coffee to the master bedroom and got dressed for the day as quickly as he could. Since all his meetings were cancelled, he chose a more casual look—gray slacks and a sweater vest. Once he was ready and had rejoined Jules and Noelle—who was contentedly drinking from a bottle—in the living room, they started talking logistics.
“I can get us to Social Services,” Mitch said, heading for the main elevator at the back of the penthouse, “and I’ve already called for a car seat.”
“You are so on top of things,” Jules murmured, slinging her purse over her shoulder as she followed him.
The comment warmed him, though he didn’t know why. Really, the two of them tackling this unexpected challenge together had gone off without a hitch. And Mitch was the type of guy to recognize things like that—the fluidity with which two people could work together. The inherent teamwork. The unity.
And he and Jules had it in spades. Discovering an abandoned baby together was no small occurrence, and they’d handled it with ease.
He grinned over at her as the elevator plunged downward.
He’d only known her for a day, but this woman was one of the best partners he’d ever met.
7
This is for the best. This is for the best.
Jules had been repeating this line to herself ever since they’d rolled up to the office building housing the Children’s Services office. The streets were packed as usual, and any hint of the panic of the mega-storm from yesterday was totally gone and simply replaced with gray street slush as every New Yorker went about their lives as usual. He’d called a driver to take them to the office building, and the sleek car idled as she and Mitch stepped carefully through the sloppy street. Mitch extricated Noelle from the car seat while she hopped from foot to foot, pulling her long back coat tight around her.
Dropping Noelle off to Social Services was the best idea. So why did Jules want to keep her around for a little longer?
“Ready,” Mitch said, holding Noelle’s extra-bundled body with ease in his arms. The sedan pulled away. Since the one thing they couldn’t procure from Denton Hotels was an infant-size winter jacket, they’d wrapped her in thick blankets instead. Noelle fussed a bit against the bitterly cold air. Holiday garland lining the front door of the building moved in the whipping winds. Jules pushed into the building quickly, holding the door open for Mitch and Noelle.
“Here we are,” she murmured, her chest heaving as she acclimated to the warmer space and found the right office in the building. The lobby was pure commotion. Babies cried and fussed from all corners of the waiting room. Dour faces looked at them from every angle.
“Should we just…” Jules began, unsure where to start, or even who to ask.
“The service windows are over there,” Mitch said, pointing, but he didn’t move. Next to them, a lady sighed.
Jules edged forward through the waiting people and spotted a little wheel of rip-off numbers. She grabbed one—number 3207. Her heart sank when the number above one of the reception windows clicked to 2918.
“Apparently we have three hundred people in front of us,” Jules murmured when she rejoined Mitch near the door. There were no seats left.
“They must have several more waiting rooms we’re unaware of,” Mitch joked, which made her snort with laughter.
“Maybe the other ones are better.”
“If only they had VIP waiting rooms,” Mitch added. “I’d like to order a Perrier right now, but I’m not seeing the waiter.”
Jules clamped a hand over her mouth, laughter threatening to erupt. Her body shook as she struggled to contain it, and a few glares knifed their way.
A receptionist barked out the number above the window when the person didn’t appear. She repeated it angrily one last time, and then the number above her flashed to the next in line.
“They probably left,” Jules whispered to him, leaning in close. The office was cramped, so of course this gave her the liberty to brush arms with him. She caught the scent of his cologne, and she had to steel herself against his manly essence for what felt like the hundredth time since meeting him yesterday. Between his tall and sturdy frame, the easygoing smile he liked to send her way, and this baby in his arms, it was a constant fight to keep her head above water.
Little Noelle must have been more of a head trip than she realized, because with all these people jammed in around them, all she wanted to do was take Noelle and go back to the safety of Mitch’s penthouse.
“Should we?” Mitch asked her. When he looked at her, there was no trace of joking.
She swallowed, looking down at little Noelle. The girl blinked lazily, looking around the room, occasionally yawning or stretching. Christmas was just a few weeks away—how were they going to just leave this innocent baby with a bunch of overworked, irritated strangers with a line a mile long? Who would feed her? Who would change her diaper on time?’
Jules jerked her head into a nod, covering Mitch’s hand with her own. “We can’t leave her here for Christmas. It would be too cruel.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Mitch glanced around the room, then jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Jules buttoned up her coat and followed him out of the office as he placed a quick call to the driver. Frigid wind blasted them again once they hit the pavement of the sidewalk. A few moments later, the sedan pulled up, and Mitch opened the back door. The sleek, leather insides were warm and toasty when they eased Noelle into the car seat. She fussed a little as they strapped her in, but once the car was in motion she quieted.
“Wow.” Mitch raked a hand through his hair as he slowed for the first stoplight. “That place was a madhouse.”
“I think we made the right decision. After all, the note said we should give her a good Christmas.”
“We can at least do that,” Mitch agreed, glancing over at her. There was something definite in his blue eyes, like they’d just shaken hands.
They’d take care of her for a little longer. Just until it felt right to hand her over to the authorities. Silence fell over the car as Jules worked through what the next step might look like. She’d just spent the night at Mitch’s penthouse, but that wasn’t a feasible option from now until New Year’s…even though she wished she could go back there and curl up in that luxurious king bed until the end of time. If that was his guest room, what was the master bedroom like?
One night in his penthouse and she was willing to abandon her own life and fall into his lap of luxury. It wasn’t just the amenities. Mitch was the type of man she wanted to know more about. Their night together had blurred past in conversation and caring for the baby, but it didn’t seem right for it to end now.
But it had to. Because she needed to get back to her own life, her own apartment, and remember her mother’s pain. Rich playboys were never the right choice, and meeting Mitch seemed like the capstone of this lesson she’d been learning her entire life.
Just because they’d stumbled upon Noelle together didn’t mean they had to take care of her together.
It was time for her to go home.
“You know, I think I can handle things from here,” she said. “I can take her back to my place and keep an eye on her. I know you’ve probably got a lot going on as the COO.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I think between the two of us, I’ve got more experience with kids. So it’ll be easier for me.”
“I can send you whatever you need—”
She waved him off, feeling slightly disappointed in her own suggestion but knowing it was the right path. She needed to get back into her own orbit. No basking in his expensive cologne or ogling his im
possible view. “We packed most of her stuff into the car, so I’ll just take this and figure out the rest.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yeah. I don’t live too far from here—you can just drop me off. And then I’ll come back later this week for more planning, but work from home in the meantime and send you drafts of the designs and the proposed program.”
Mitch nodded, but doubt clouded his face. “Okay. Just let us know where to go.”
Jules guided the driver through the streets of Manhattan toward her apartment. As they drove, she prepped herself for becoming a temporary single mom of an infant. Definitely not what she’d envisioned for her schedule the next three weeks, but she’d make it work. It would only be until after the holidays. And then she could go back to her regularly scheduled program. Single working woman with a small group of friends and the occasional night out for martinis and one much-needed vacation to Maine per year.
Great.
“Yeah. It’s right here.” Jules pointed once he pulled onto her street and helped him find a place to double-park outside her walk-up. When the car stopped moving for more than a few seconds, Noelle started fussing.
“We’d better hurry,” Jules said, hurrying out of the car.
“She sure likes riding in the car.” Mitch frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets as he came around to the side of the car as she unstrapped Noelle. “We can keep driving around if it’ll help.”
“No. I’ve got it. She’ll calm down once we’re inside.”
“You two go on upstairs,” Mitch said, shooing her toward the front door. “I’ll bring up the stuff.”
“Okay. I’m on the second floor, first door on the left,” Jules said, and then hurried inside. Once she was in the calm hallway of her building, the familiar scents of caramelized onion and cleaning agent drifting through the hall, she counseled herself to be relieved.
This was home. Here she was.
And wasn’t she happy?
She looked down at Noelle, who looked up at her with clear and vibrant eyes. Big baby blues that zapped her to attention.
Like finally, Noelle was really seeing her.
Having the baby in her arms forced Jules to acknowledge that coming back to this place wasn’t returning to a safe haven. It wasn’t the home sweet home she wanted it to be.
But it was all she had.
And it would have to do.
8
Mitch dragged his feet as he unloaded the car. His stomach had formed a tight knot, and he couldn’t say exactly why, only that leaving Jules here with the baby seemed like a very bad idea.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her or that he didn’t believe this was a safe place. No, she lived in a fine neighborhood with plenty of nice-looking cars parked on the street. Jules was definitely the more capable one of the two of them, there was no denying that.
Still, it just seemed wrong for her to do all the work while he got to go back to his life. Part of him wanted to be able to check on Noelle on an hourly basis until she was officially out of their care. They’d discovered her together—they should care for her together.
It was some obscure ethical violation to shove all the responsibility onto Jules’s shoulders.
He closed the trunk without removing the diaper bag and pack-and-play and hurried up to Jules’s apartment. She’d left the door cracked, and he pushed inside cautiously. The place was homey but sparsely decorated. Spartan furniture dotted a small living room, and cardboard boxes lined the wall as if she’d just moved in and was still unpacking.
“Hey.” He went over to the couch where Jules was unwrapping Noelle from the blankets. Jules glanced up at him.
“Where’s all the stuff?”
Mitch cleared his throat, easing onto the couch next to her. “Listen. I have an idea.”
“What’s that?”
He worked his jaw back and forth, wondering where on a scale from one to insane this suggestion might fall. But strange times called for stranger measures. And maybe this was just the unexpected way he could give Noelle the Christmas her desperate parent wanted for her.
He lived a life of privilege. And this was his way of taking care of this unexpected little gift.
“I think you and Noelle should come back to the penthouse.” He ran his thumb over his knuckles as he met Jules’s gaze. Surprisingly, she wasn’t looking as shocked or horrified as he expected. “It’s a little unconventional, I know, but that way, we can both care for Noelle. And simultaneously work on the party plans. Besides, I can give Noelle a good Christmas. Both of you, really.” He paused, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip as he awaited any sort of firm reaction from her. “What do you think?”
Jules cleared her throat, smoothing the swaddling blanket over Noelle’s chest. “Well…I don’t know.”
“We have everything at the hotel. Everything you could possibly need. It would just make things a lot easier while we wait for the holidays to pass and then…figure out the next step.” He ran his fingers over Noelle’s little arm as she punched a tiny fist up out of her swaddle. Clearly his swaddling skills weren’t the best if the baby could get out of it. “It’s your call, though.”
A strange smile drifted over her face. “So you want me to be your roommate until New Year’s?”
He laughed. “Sure. You can see it that way if you want. Holiday roommates.”
“And nobody in the hotel will think it’s strange if a random woman and a random baby just start…living with you?”
“Not the strangest thing to grace the doors of my penthouse. Besides, a temporary but beautiful wife and child will make the holidays more bearable.”
The words popped out of his mouth before he could think better of them. Jules’s brow arched. “Upgraded already from roommate to wife and child? That was quick.”
Heat crept under the collar of his shirt. “You know what I mean. ”
“So what are the stranger things that have graced the doors of your penthouse? If a sudden family isn’t the weirdest thing.”
He paused, tilting his head in thought. “Okay, this might be the weirdest thing. But my point still stands. We’ll be more effective working together. And if you can work from home, why not do it from the hotel?”
Jules lobbed a sigh, and then she finally nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right. Let’s do it.”
A grin spread across his face, and warmth bubbled up inside his chest. This was absolutely the wildest thing he’d ever suggested—ever stumbled upon—but damn, it felt right.
As he helped Jules button up her apartment and get the baby ready to go outside again, his mind swirled with thoughts. She brought up a good point about the temporary wife and kid living in his penthouse. People absolutely would notice—everyone took a high interest in who and what came up and down the elevators to his apartment. It was only natural, he supposed. As a thirty-something eligible bachelor in Manhattan, his name came up frequently in the tabloids, and women often courted him aggressively.
He could have anything and anyone he wanted within the world of women, but he rarely indulged. That didn’t mean he didn’t sometimes dip his toes into the waters—but really, he was too busy for a proper relationship. Or even a superficial one, which he’d tried once. After that spectacular but beautiful failure with a woman he’d tried to keep around just for public events and “being seen,” he realized that he needed to hold off on dating until he reached the pinnacle of his career. Family and relationship stuff could come after he reached the top. Meanwhile, there just wasn’t time as he climbed the ladder.
And he was damn close to that top. Especially if his father made the announcement Mitch was expecting at the Christmas gala.
Once Jules and Noelle were back in the car, anxiety started churning in his gut. Thinking about the gala always tied him up in knots. It wasn’t about the event planning—he knew they’d get things under control soon—but rather, the cycling worry about whether his father was finally prepared to hand over the reins
.
Mitch had been gunning for this position since the beginning of his career. And one of the hardest parts about his climb was his father himself. The man had exceedingly high standards, but not just in business. In every aspect of life. Since Mitch’s mom had passed, his father had turned into even more of a hardass. And really, he could understand. The man was filling a void with work and perfectionism.
But that bled into every aspect of Mitch and his brother’s lives. For Mitch personally, his father had always been extremely vocal about who Mitch allowed on his arm. It was Victorian-style classism; only the best and most-educated girls could have a place in Mitch’s life. Anything less than that was simply unacceptable.
Things were different for his younger brother Josh. He’d never been hellbent on taking over the company, and he wasn’t the eldest, so their father had never quite groomed him the same way. When Josh started dating his assistant last Christmas—going as far as having her pose as his fiancée to win a bid for a new property upstate—their father had been a little skeptical but ultimately accepting.
But if Mitch had tried to pull that stunt?
He hesitated to imagine what the blowback would have been. Which meant that anything longer than temporary with Jules and Noelle would be positively disastrous.
Still, he wanted to allow himself this little respite from his regular life. Bringing in Jules and Noelle promised to make the holidays a lot more interesting. And even though he had it all—literally anything a person could want—there was one thing he was sorely lacking in life.
Warmth.
9
Jules yawned as she stumbled out of the bedroom in the bleary morning hours. This was day three in the penthouse—her third morning since deciding to become Mitch’s holiday roommate, or wife, depending on how you looked at it—and it still seemed unreal. Using this place as her remote office was one thing; cohabiting with Mitch the COO hottie was another altogether.
She walked around with a constant lady boner in this place. In just three days, she’d come to appreciate all his different phases. Work Mitch, who wore the impeccable suits. Relaxed, After-Dinner Mitch, who unbuttoned the work shirt and rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves. And then there was Nighttime Mitch. Her favorite one. The guy who wore those cotton tees and soft shorts.