Baby Surprises 7 Book Box Set

by Layla Valentine

  We ordered our food and ate our lunch as Andrew went through a few more of the details about what to expect during the first few weeks before production. Before too long we were done, and he was back off to his hotel.

  “Give her a call, J!” he said as he flagged down a cab. “Worst she can do is say no.”

  Once he was gone, I decided to walk the rest of the way back to my penthouse. I lived in the neighborhood, only a few blocks away.

  I thought about what I’d said to Andrew. Were things really so bitter between Heather and me that she’d say no to something like this? I mean, it’s not like I’d seen her reaction to me leaving. For all I knew there was no bad blood between the two of us, and she didn’t mind one bit.

  Sure, it was wishful thinking. But deep down I wanted to see her again. A month had gone by, and I was still thinking of her constantly. The girl wouldn’t leave my mind, and the more I thought about it as I walked, the more I realized that it was because I hadn’t gotten any closure.

  If I saw her again, even if she slapped me or threw a drink in my face or called me an asshole, I’d have an answer one way or another about how she felt toward me.

  And what if she said yes? That’d mean that Heather would be back in my life, and that, who knows, maybe something would happen between us again.

  Then again, there was still the issue of her being a single mom.

  As I approached my building, I resolved to see her again. A big smile on my face, I was ready to make this collaboration happen.

  Chapter 12

  Heather

  Faye’s crying carried through the apartment like a burst of sonic energy. Wincing, I rushed over to her and scooped her out of her high chair, her face as red as a tomato as tears poured from her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, muffin?” I asked. “You hungry? Tired? What is it?”

  I held her close as she continued to cry. Faye’s behavior had remained volatile over the last month, and I was beginning to worry that there was something really wrong. A trip to the doctor’s a couple of weeks ago showed her to be in perfect health, so it wasn’t anything physical.

  I was beginning to wonder if the problem wasn't with her, but with me. Was I just not up to the job of being a mom? Was I in over my head, Faye's constant tears and fussiness some kind of sign from nature that I was totally out of my element?

  “Come on, baby girl,” I said, wiping her tears away. “Let mama know what’s wrong—please.”

  I knew it wouldn’t do any good to ask a baby to explain herself, but I was out of options.

  Faye still crying, I stepped over to the window of my tiny apartment and looked out. It was a cloudy late-summer day, chillier than it’d been over the last few weeks. I’d planned to spend this Saturday afternoon with Faye at the park, but if she didn’t calm down, I’d be stuck inside, trying to soothe whatever was wrong with my baby girl.

  I was almost on the verge of tears myself, but breaking down wasn’t a luxury I had. I needed to be strong, to keep it all in check for Faye’s sake.

  Right in the middle of my attempts to calm Faye, a knock sounded from my front door. I stood still for a few moments, wondering if it might’ve been a knock on one of my neighbor’s doors.

  But it sounded again, and now there was no doubt that it was someone at my apartment. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and a guest was the last thing I wanted with Faye acting like this.

  Still, I went to the door and took a peek through the peephole. When I saw who it was, I gasped.

  Justin Donovan.

  Seeing him there was like something from a dream. I hadn’t seen him since our night together and hadn’t heard a word from him. And now, there he was, standing on the other side of my apartment door.

  Part of me wanted to ignore him, to hope that he’d go away. But with Faye making this much commotion, he had to know I was home. There was nothing to do but open the door and see what on earth he wanted.

  I took a deep breath and opened up.

  A warm smile was plastered on his face as I opened the door. My heart thudded in my chest as I looked him over, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Hey!” he said. “Long time, no see!”

  Faye continued crying, and I rocked her back and forth as I tried to come to terms with what was happening.

  “Hey,” I said, my voice soft, barely audible over Faye.

  “Damn!” he said. “He’s got a set of lungs on him.”

  “She,” I said. “She’s a she.”

  “Ah,” he said awkwardly. He winced slightly, and I could tell that he wasn’t exactly used to the sound of a baby crying.

  “Something I can help you with?” I asked, my tone cold.

  Justin took in a slow breath and went on. “Listen. I know it’s…been a while. And I left a little suddenly last time.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” I said, holding Faye close.

  “True, true,” he said. “And I’m really sorry, if that means anything to you. But there’s something really important I want to talk to you about—something that might be what they call a ‘game-changer.’”

  I regarded him skeptically. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “It’s something that might be better talked about inside,” he said. “Mind if I come in?”

  I glanced back at my apartment, realizing what a mess it was of baby toys and blankets and all other kinds of kid stuff. No chance to clean up like before. But what did it matter now, really?

  I sighed and stepped aside.

  “Thanks,” Justin said, striding into my apartment like he owned the place.

  Once inside, he leaned down at Faye, wiggling his finger in front of her face.

  “Aw, what’s wrong little lady?”

  To my shock, Faye’s crying stopped. She calmed down as soon as Justin gave her his attention, coos replacing the wailing. She reached out and tried to grab onto Justin’s finger.

  “Cute kid,” he said as Faye gripped his finger, then stepped farther into the living room. “Mind if I have a seat?”

  Really, I wanted him to say his piece and get out. Seeing him there, dressed in his expensive clothes, a half-grin on his lips, almost made me want to smack the cocky out of him.

  “Fine,” I said. “But I want you to get to the point of why you’re here.”

  “Of course, of course,” he said, plopping down on the couch.

  I closed my eyes for a brief moment, savoring the quiet in the apartment now that Faye had stopped crying. As annoyed and shocked as I was to see Justin, at least he’d managed to get her calm.

  Justin stretched his arm out over the back of the couch and crossed his legs as he waited for me to sit down.

  Once I was in my chair, Faye curled up peacefully in my lap, I waited for him to start. I felt a tinge of anger in my stomach, one that began to spread.

  “Good to see you,” he said. “Things have been good?”

  “Fine,” I said coolly. Things had not been good, as a matter of fact. Between Faye’s temperament and the fact that my finances were still a mess from getting my car fixed, every day was a new source of stress. But I wasn’t about to open myself up to Justin like that.

  “Awesome,” he said. “Now, you’re probably wondering why I’m here, why I’ve come to see you after so long.”

  “Yep,” I said coolly. “You could say that.”

  He glanced away for a moment, as if trying to decide exactly how to say what he was going to say.

  “How do you feel about…reality TV?”

  “What?” I asked. Reality TV? What the hell was he talking about?

  “You like to watch it?”

  I was so shocked that my guard went down a bit. “A little,” I said. “If I’m not in the mood for anything actually good.”

  He titled his head to the side. “Sure,” he said. “It’s good to watch when you want something that’s not going to make you think too much. I’m not a huge fan myself. That is, until recently.”

 
I said nothing, both because of my anger and because I was pretty damned curious.

  “Go on,” I said.

  “I’ll put it to you quick and straight: I’m starring in a reality show, and I want you to be a part of it.”

  I crinkled my brow in confusion. Surely, I had to have heard him wrong.

  “You’re what?” I asked, dumbfounded. “And you want me to what?”

  He clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “Just what I said. It’s called Baby in the Penthouse. The premise is that I have a single mom and her baby stay at my place for a week, and during that time I learn a thing or two about what it’s like to raise a baby.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “We had a girl and her baby all lined up for the gig, but she ended up dropping out due to…well, we don’t need to get into all that. The big issue is that I know you and—you know what? I never got her name.”

  He pointed toward Faye, who let out another coo.

  “Faye,” I said.

  “Ah, perfect name for such a cute kid.”

  Justin seemed different than how I remembered him. He was still charming, sure, but it was in more of a business way, as if I was a client he was trying to talk into working with him.

  Which, I supposed, was the case.

  “Anyway, you and Faye would come to stay at my place for a week. There, crews would film me helping you out with the day-to-day of raising Faye. I’d pitch in with feeding, changing, cleaning—all that good stuff.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “You think you’d be able to handle all that?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Why not? I mean, look at you—you’re able to do all this on your own. I’m sure I could swing it.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “‘Swing it’?” I repeated.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I run my own company. I’m sure raising a kid isn’t all that more difficult.”

  However angry I was before, now I was about to boil over. He clearly had no idea what the hell he was talking about, and I was inching even closer to giving him a piece of my mind.

  But before I had a chance, he went on.

  “Now,” he said. “I know you’re busy, and you’re probably still a little mad at me for what I pulled. So, I want to make it clear that I’m not asking you to do this out of the kindness of your heart.”

  He took a notepad out of his pocket along with a pen and jotted down a number on a piece of paper, which he tore off and handed to me.

  “Give that a look,” he said. “See if it sweetens the deal.”

  Hesitantly, as if he was in the process of playing a trick on me, I took the paper and opened it up.

  My eyes went wide when I read the number.

  “That’s for one week of work,” he said. “And we’d be working out some residuals with you, which means that you’ll get a small piece of the ad revenue if the show ends up in reruns.”

  Then he raised his finger.

  “And the show’s going to be featuring my Petit Bébé clothing line, which means we can get little Faye decked out with all the clothes and gear she’ll ever need.”

  I set the paper down, still in shock.

  I was all ready to throw Justin out on his ass—after all, why would I want to complicate my life further with something like this? But the money…that was, as Justin had said, a game-changer. With that payment, I could put money in savings, cover daycare and maybe even move to a better apartment.

  “Now,” I said. “I’m not saying I want to do this. But I’d need to know all the details.”

  “Naturally,” said Justin. “How about I take you two ladies out to lunch. I’ve got a copy of the contract in my car, and I’ll go over all the odds and ends. No surprises.”

  “Fine,” I said. “No surprises.”

  I threw on some better clothes, and we were soon seated in the booth of a nearby diner. Justin went through all of the details of the show with me, letting me know what I’d be expected to do. It seems I was going to play the wise, put-together mom next to his bumbling wannabe dad.

  “What if I can’t do it?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “The story’s told in the editing room. You just have to show up and look great.”

  When he was done, he handed me a pen.

  And, Lord help me, I signed.

  Chapter 13

  Heather

  “Now, fold here.”

  “Right here?”

  “Yep, and be careful—she’s a being a little fussy.”

  Justin’s face wore an expression of total concentration as he applied the diaper to Faye, who was on her back on the changing table in the nursery.

  “You look like you’re trying to defuse a bomb,” I said, doing my best to flash a TV-worthy smile.

  “Hey,” he said. “I saw what the old diaper looked like—that’s not too far from the truth.”

  Chuckles sounded from the crewmen in the room.

  “Okay,” he said. “So, I just put it here…and here…and…”

  “Done!” I said.

  A proud smile on his face, Justin hoisted Faye off the changing table and held her in the air. She giggled happily, now nice and clean.

  “Okay!” called out Craig, our director. “That’s good!”

  The tension left my body as Craig gave the sign that they were done filming for the moment. The crew broke up, talking among themselves as I stayed by Justin.

  “How was that?” he asked, handing Faye back to me. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “I could tell,” I said, giving the diaper an inspection. “But it looks good to me.”

  “Justin! Heather!” said Craig, clasping his hands together as he approached us. “That was awesome, awesome stuff.”

  Craig was a good guy, but very California. He was trim, with a neat beard of dark hair and a matching manbun tied up on the top of his head. He was dressed in designer jeans, bright white sneakers, and a V-neck T-shirt done up with the logo of his production company.

  “You think so?” asked Justin. “I felt like I barely had control of my hands.”

  “That’s what we want,” said Craig, plopping his hand on Justin’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “This whole show’s about you being out of your element—we want a little clumsiness now and then. And that line about diffusing a bomb? Perfect!”

  Then he turned his attention to me, his eyes hidden behind a large pair of designer sunglasses.

  “And Heather,” he said. “You’re charming, sweet, and just knocking it out of the park.”

  I blushed, having a hard time with the compliments.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Trying to learn as I go.”

  “And you’re doing a hell of a job at it,” he said.

  The last week had gone by in a total blur. The team from the production company had arrived at my apartment the day after I signed the contract, all of them eager to get me ready for the show. After a few days of prep, I was told to show up at Justin’s penthouse in the West Village, bringing nothing but myself and Faye. Sure enough, when I arrived, I had a whole wardrobe of clothes from Justin’s top designer lines waiting for me. It was a nice change of pace from the sweatpants and budget office clothes I had back at my apartment.

  The penthouse was…something else. It was situated at the top of one of the tallest buildings in the neighborhood, a huge, mansion-sized place right in the middle of New York. It was done up in sleek, modern décor, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowing a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the city. It made my place in Greenpoint look like a closet. And when I saw the walk-in closet for the room where I’d be staying, I realized how true that statement was.

  We were on day two of filming, the first being a set-up for the premise of the show. There were two main elements to it: Justin experiencing what it would be like to be a father, and me getting a taste of the life of a Manhattan billionaire. Thankfully, this didn’t require much acting on my part—Ju
stin lived a life of luxury that I could only dream about. The show was set to be a mini-series, filmed over the course of the week. And so far, so good. The staff did their best to help me out, and Justin actually seemed to be taking a shine to Faye.

  But it wasn’t all fun and games. Justin and I were on camera twenty-four-seven, the crew only being hands-on for a few sets here and there when they wanted to film something specific, like this baby changing scene. Most of the time they hung back and watched us, like a dozen flies on the wall.

  “So, we’ve got the changing done,” said Justin. “What’s next?”

  “Heather here is going to keep showing you the basics of childcare,” said Craig. “And then we’ve got something different in mind for after that.”

  “Something different?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Craig. “For now, let’s do some feeding. That sound good?”

  My eyes went wide. “Does that mean I’m going to be on camera…you know?”

  “Breastfeeding?” asked Craig, going right for the word I’d been a little bashful about saying.

  “Yeah,” I said. “That.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll be filming it very tastefully. What we’re going to do is start with you feeding Faye. Then Justin’s going to come in, you’ll both have a bit of banter, and then you’ll show him what to do when you’re not around. Got it?” He clasped his hands together. “Go ahead and relax for five,” he said before taking off and leaving Justin and I alone while he attended to the crew.

  “So,” I said.

  “So,” said Justin. “How’re you holding up?”

  “It’s…weird,” I said. “But I think Faye’s doing fine, which is what I was worried about.”

  He wiggled his finger in front of her face, and she let out an adorable giggle.

  “Think about it this way,” he said. “With all this being recorded, you’ll have the best home video baby footage ever.”

  He flashed me a smile.

  I still wasn’t sure how to feel about Justin. He’d been good with Faye, despite the bizarre circumstances. But due to the artificial, contrived nature of this whole production, he and I never had a chance to talk about anything more personal—which meant the feelings of anger I still held were right there under the surface, unresolved.