Working For It

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Working For It Page 18

by BJ Harvey


  Since I told my parents I was pregnant, my father has given me a wide berth. I’d been expecting a dressing down when I went back to work that week, but he’s been nothing but professional. It’s been business as usual for the past month, which has been a relief, but it’s also had me on edge because Keith Nelson isn’t one to let things go. The time is drawing closer to when I’ll need to make a decision about my future with the firm, and also whether it’s time to step out from behind my father’s formidable shadow and forge my own way—wherever that may lead me.

  I have the means. I have a successful career and the love of a man who has proven he’ll always have my back, and a much-wanted baby on the way.

  The further along I get in my pregnancy, the more I feel the need to consider whether the pressure of staying in my parents’ good graces—and the inevitable transfer of that onto my son—is worth the stress it brings.

  I’m a thirty-five-year-old woman with so many good things in her life—and more to come. Why did I wait so long?

  Looking at my deliriously happy sister, her doting husband who’d move mountains and slay dragons for her, and the beautiful baby in my arms, the question is not if I should walk away from my parents—it’s when.

  “You can go to Daddy,” Ronnie says, having finished giving Joey a feed from the other side. I wouldn’t have believed her super-soft baby voice was possible unless I’d heard it with my own ears.

  “Yeah, Daddy,” Ezra says, with a smirk. We exchange an amused look.

  Ronnie hums, her eyes switching between the two of us. “Ken, I think we’re missing something funny here.”

  Jax taps his chin. “Hmm. Or something kinky.”

  “Oh God no,” Ezra says with a laugh. “Let’s just say that your nephew overheard the word Daddy and it wasn’t being used in a way a child should use it…”

  Jax barks out a laugh before he completely loses it in a tears-streaming-down-his-face kind of way, which just makes Ronnie giggle, and Ezra and I join them.

  “I hope that little con artist got some good hush money out of that one,” Jax muses.

  Ez nods. “He did. Ten bucks, in fact, except he told Cohen and—”

  “Everyone knows not to tell Co anything. He’s got a mouth bigger than the state of Texas.”

  It’s then that the sweet and adorable little Joey does the biggest fart I’ve ever heard. Jax’s chest puffs out with pride as he pats his baby daughter’s swaddled butt.

  “Wet or dry?” Ronnie asks, resting her cheek against the back of the couch and gazing over at her husband.

  Another loud, squelching sound fills the air. Then the unmistakable stench of a full diaper. Jax’s expression morphs from impressed to gagging, Ezra dry-retches beside me. Ronnie turns my way and giggles.

  “I think we definitely all know the answer to that now, Barbie.” Jax’s mouth quirks up as he looks to my boyfriend beside me. “Hey, Ez. Gilly’s already changed her share of Joey’s dirty diapers. I think it’s your turn, Uncle.”

  I glance sideways at my now slightly green boyfriend, biting my lip to stop myself from laughing.

  “Yeah…” Ez says, followed by a nervous laugh.

  “C’mon, soon-to-be daddy. You have to learn all the wonderful gag-worthy gifts babies will give you.” Jax puts his hand on Joey’s back, tilting his face away as if trying to escape the stench, and pushes up off the couch. Ezra follows him, and they both walk out of the room.

  Ronnie grins at me, leaning sideways beside her chair, straightening with a video baby monitor in her hand. “Jax totally set him up.”

  A snort escapes my lips, and I cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh my God. He’s gonna kill him.” I can’t stop laughing.

  My sister smirks. “Only after he finds out we can record video off this thing.”

  “I totally have to get one of those.”

  “I’ve already bought you one. Just act surprised when you get it, okay?”

  I nod and lean forward in my seat, both of our attention on the small tablet-sized screen.

  Ronnie turns the volume up, and sure enough, Jax and Ezra cross the baby’s room on-screen just a few moments later.

  “What on earth have you been feeding her?” Ezra asks, coughing and spluttering as he undoes the footed onesie Joey is wearing and exposes ground zero of poomageddon.

  “Oh shit,” Jax says with a snicker. “You struck diaper gold today, Baker. She’s given you a number three.”

  “A what?” Ezra wheezes. “There’s shit from asshole to breakfast, man. This can’t be normal.”

  I’m struggling to compose myself now. Ronnie, on the other hand, is just out and out laughing her butt off.

  “Here,” Jax says with a sigh. “You remove that vile thing and keep wiping and swiping front to back till it’s gone. You’ve just gotta breathe through your mouth and hope you don’t lose your dinner.”

  “I’m not sure I ever want to eat again right now.”

  “Eating isn’t what makes a baby, Ez.”

  “Ha, fuc—freaking, ha. Your dad thinks he’s funny,” Ezra mutters, sounding strained as he does as instructed. Joey’s legs are held up in one hand, and he works at warp speed to clean her up and contain the hazardous waste spill covering her butt.

  Ten minutes later, Ronnie and I have wiped away all the tears we shed from laughing so much and a pale, shell-shocked Ezra, an amused Jax, and a clueless sleeping Joey come back into the living room.

  “How did it go?” I ask with my best poker face.

  “I think we need to seriously talk about hiring a nanny.”

  “We’re not getting a nanny, Ez.”

  “I’ll pay for it. I don’t care how much. They can only change diapers. I’m just… yeah.”

  I can’t hold back my grin as I shake my head at him. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Nobody gets used to that.”

  “You will,” Ronnie muses.

  He looks back at me. “I don’t think I’m gonna sleep tonight. You’re seriously going to have to work your magic on me to erase the last ten minutes from my brain.”

  I stand and walk over to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Aww. I can do that, baby daddy.”

  “Good,” he says, as I press into him. “We should get going. Jax says there might be another round soon, and I don’t want to be here for it.”

  I bite my lip and smile up at him. “You’re funny.”

  “And I’m totally serious about a nanny. I’ll wear you down.”

  I snicker. “You can try all you like, baby daddy. But our son is being raised by you and me, together—no nannies allowed.”

  He sighs, dipping his mouth to mine. “Okay, but I’m going to need a hazmat suit. Maybe a decontamination unit.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” I say dryly.

  “And my work is done,” Ronnie announces, standing up and waving the baby monitor in her hand.

  Ezra’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t…”

  Oh, we did, and the moms and sisters are going to love it.

  If we thought Ezra was feeling sick before, his expression turns downright queasy after that.

  I’d like to say I feel sorry for the man, but the entire experience has been too damn funny not to laugh. In fact, I am still giggling about it the entire way home.

  That’s until Ezra stays true to his word and gives me a foot rub in the bath. Then he makes sure I don’t fall asleep in a few very enjoyable ways.

  By the time he finally falls asleep, we are both worn out in the best possible way, all memories of Joey’s thoughtful gift to her uncle a distant—most probably blocked—memory.

  At least until our son likely does the exact same thing.

  Then I’ll probably have to get creative. Lucky for me, I know Ezra will always make it worth my while.

  Ezra

  “Why don’t you come live with your Uncle Ezzy and be the most spoiled little girl in the whole wide world?” I croon as Lottie Cook looks up at me with her big blue
eyes and yawns.

  I commandeered her from Bry approximately two minutes after he walked through the door of Skye’s old apartment with a baby carrier strapped to his front.

  Whereas I’m still scarred for life after the ‘number-three experience’ with Joey four weeks ago, Faith and Bry’s princess has me wrapped around her little finger, and I’m not exactly fighting to be released.

  All of the guys keep giving me shit for how baby crazy I am, but maybe I’m finally getting closer to getting the life I strived for but always fell short of getting.

  Gilly is now twenty-six weeks, and as much as that should scare me, I’m so Zen right now, you’d almost wonder if I’d picked up some tricks from Faith during her labor.

  “You’re worse than the moms, Ez. They literally walk through the front door and go straight for the baby. They don’t even say hello to us anymore,” Bry says. “Yesterday, Mrs. Baker took a whole five minutes before coming out of her baby daze and realizing Faith and I were laughing at her.”

  My lips quirk up. It’s safe to say everyone in both the Cook and Baker families have gone a little baby crazy since Joey and Lottie arrived. I’m betting it’ll just be starting to die down when Gilly gives birth to our son. Then we’ll have months of barricading the door so no one can baby-nap him when our backs are turned.

  “You’ve gone soft, Baker,” Bry says, his amused eyes watching me hold his daughter.

  Cohen snorts, shaking his head. “Says the man who walked in wearing a baby carrier.”

  “Hey. Some studies say baby-wearing helps with bonding,” Bry says.

  “Really?” I ask, genuinely interested. “Are there classes or—”

  “Not you too,” Cohen groans. “Seriously, I’m going to be the fun uncle. At least I won’t lose my junk and forget how to use it like the rest of you.”

  “We obviously know how to use it,” Bry says. He puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “When a man and a woman love each other—”

  Cohen shrugs him off with a snort. “Screw you. I know how to do it. I’m just saying you two and Jax make me want to not do it.”

  “We’ll remind you of that when you and Skye start procreating, heaven help us,” Jamie says, walking into the room.

  “You all saw the video of Ezra almost spewing from Joey’s diaper. You guys act like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I see worse things daily at work,” Co retorts.

  “But that’s adults,” I say in a sing-song voice to my niece whose eyes are starting to droop. I look up to Co. “Also, screw Jax for showing you all that video. I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

  Jamie just grins at me. “Probably not. Well, at least until your own child does something similar to one of us.”

  “You won’t catch me changing any diapers,” Co adds. “You now know in advance.”

  Bry smirks. “Just you wait, little Cohen. You’ll turn to baby mush soon enough.”

  “I think your daddy is right there,” I say to Lottie just before she makes noises down below.

  She’s halfway into Bryant’s arms again before he can even blink. “Whoa, dude. Careful with my baby.”

  Jamie chuckles. “He’s probably having flashbacks.”

  “It was four weeks ago,” Jax says, rolling his eyes.

  “I couldn’t get that smell out of my head for days,” I say with a shudder.

  “Okay, so why are we here again?” Bry asks. “Faith loves the chance to have a bath in peace, but she’ll probably be getting separation anxiety soon.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jamie replies. “I’m sorry for the short notice, but I figured we should do this face-to-face with everyone at the same time.” He nods my way. “Ez, you wanna take the lead with this since it was your idea, and you’re the one with an appointment to get to?”

  All Cook eyes turn my way.

  “Jamie and I were having our regular work projection meeting the other day, and I raised the possibility of diversifying our income a bit. Given that some of our priorities are changing, we wanted to pitch to you the idea of keeping this building as a rental property—owned by the business—when the renovations to Cohen’s ground unit are done.”

  “Okay. So, what happens with the flip side of things?”

  “We’d still do that, but no more big-scale projects like this as the cost of labor and contractors versus what we can get out of it is going to get tighter given that everyone’s availability will be limited.”

  “I can see that,” Bry says. He looks at Jax before the rest of us—they’re no doubt using their weird telepathic twin powers again. “If it means less pressure on Jamie and Ez while benefitting the bottom line, I’m definitely not going to say no.”

  “Me either,” Jax adds.

  Jamie turns to Cohen. “What about you?”

  “I’m all for it. I’ll always help you out whenever you need me to, but as much as I like seeing your ugly mugs day in/day out, I kind of like seeing Skye’s cute one more.”

  “Aww,” we all say in unison. I hook an arm around his neck and ruffle his hair with a laugh. “Our baby brother is in love.”

  “Dude, you have to admit she’s better-looking than you four combined.”

  “They all are,” Jamie says, looking across the table at me. “It’s going to take a little while before we finish this place anyway. We’ve also got Gilly’s top-floor renovations to complete.”

  “And I want to do a quick refresh of my apartment before I put it on the market,” I announce.

  Bry’s lips quirk up. “Oh, yeah? Something to tell us, Mr. Baker?”

  “No,” I reply, “not yet, anyway.”

  “But there are plans?” Jax asks, and suddenly, I feel like the new hot topic in the girls’ locker room.

  Knowing Jax and Cohen have the biggest mouths out of the five of us, and Jax being Gilly’s brother-in-law, there’s nothing I can say right now that I’m willing to risk her hearing secondhand. Therefore, I shut up.

  “I hear wedding bells,” Cohen muses.

  I whack him lightly around the back of the head. “Then you should get your hearing checked.”

  “So, no chance of a proposal anytime soon?” Bry asks, quirking a brow.

  I laugh off his question. “Don’t you think there have been enough weddings in this family lately?”

  “There have definitely been enough babies,” Cohen mutters.

  “Your turn will come, Cohen,” Jamie says.

  “You’re going to be waiting a while. Skye’s brothers would bury me alive with concrete security if I knocked her up before making an honest woman out of her.”

  “Anyone notice Ezra isn’t answering the question?” Jax notes, bringing the conversation back around to me.

  I sigh. “I’m just planning ahead for when I hope to be living with my girlfriend and son. Okay?”

  Jamie’s lips twitch. “Was that so hard?”

  I flip him my middle finger, which just makes him grin. “Well, nothing ’round you guys is ever easy.”

  “Except your—” Jax starts to say before my eyes slice to his.

  “If you say my mom, then I’ll set Patricia on you personally.”

  “And if you say his sister, then I’ll set my hormonal, tired wife on you,” Bry adds.

  Jax holds his hands up in the air. “Okay, okay, sheesh.”

  “Good times,” Cohen says with a smirk.

  Jax narrows his gaze. “Just you wait, little brother. Your time will come.”

  “Yeah, your wife will own your ass, and you won’t dare give me any shit.”

  The devious expression on Jax’s face would shut anyone up. “My wife is even scarier than me. I might just let her fight my battles.”

  Cohen’s silence at that ominous warning speaks volumes.

  I chuckle, and Co’s lips tip up. “Don’t know why you’re laughing. Your baby mama is Ronnie’s sister.”

  “Exactly. And she’s just as scary—if not more so—than Barbie. You’re totally fucked either way.”r />
  Cohen just grumbles and moves towards the front door, mumbling “assholes” as he walks past.

  The rest of us are too busy laughing to say anything more after that.

  After the receptionist tells me to go on through to Gilly’s office, I’m surprised to find Mr. Nelson sitting casually opposite Gilly’s desk, the woman in question looking in no way happy. An expert on body language I am not, but even so, her tight shoulders, pinched expression, and the ominous tapping fingers on her wooden desk tell me her current mood is the polar opposite of the relaxed state I left her in earlier this morning.

  “Knock, knock,” I say, stepping inside the room. Gilly’s eyes jump to mine, and her shoulders drop, her tight expression softening.

  “Ez,” she breathes, and I clench my fists to stop myself doing something I might regret—even if I know I’d really enjoy doing it.

  Keith Nelson stands and steps toward me, arm outstretched. “Ezra, is it?”

  You know who I am, asshole.

  “Ezra Baker, Gilly’s partner,” I say, shaking his hand firmly. Two can play the alpha asshole game.

  “Yes. You’re an architect, right? Baker Architectural?”

  “That’s me,” I say, gritting my teeth.

  “I understand you’ve worked with Alexander Richardson in San Francisco. Is that right?” Someone’s been looking into me.

  “Dad…” Gilly says harshly, the edge in her voice unmistakable. She shoots me an apologetic look. Having dealt with power players like this before, I meet the man head-on.

  “I do. I consult with them on select special projects.”

  “That’s very impressive,” Keith says, sounding genuinely interested. But knowing what I do of the man, I see right through it.

  “I’m surprised you’ve heard of them. They’re mainly West Coast based now.”

 

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