"No promises." I smiled, reached up, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him down. He tossed the ice pack on a nearby table, lifted me, wrapped my legs around his waist, and pressed me into the wall.
"Are you sure you have to go?" he asked with my lips inches from his, our noses almost touching. I wasn't sure of anything at that moment, so I smiled, leaned forward, angling my head to avoid contact with his nose, and pressed our lips together. My kiss was soft, sweet, and full of passion. He kissed me back, matching my intensity. Two seconds in, and I knew this was the best kiss of my life. I slipped my tongue between his lips, and he welcomed me with a little growl that made my entire body tense. I dug my fingers in his hair, grabbing handfuls, deepening the kiss. His face must have been throbbing with pain, but I didn't fucking care, and I don't think he did either. His hips thrust forward, pressing himself between my legs. I couldn't handle another minute of this without exploding. I broke our kiss and looked up at him.
“Lisa—” he began in a harsh whisper.
“I should go,” I interrupted. “Put me down.”
He did as I asked and took a step back. I handed him the ice pack, but I was tempted to stuff it in my panties to keep from climbing Cole like a tree.
His face was flushed, his hair was disheveled, and his chest was heaving as much as mine. He was so gorgeous, and I didn't want to go, but I couldn't stay.
"Thanks again, Lisa," he said, and my heart fluttered, hearing him say my name. My brow furrowed in confusion, and I was sure he was teasing me again. "For CJ…the whole teething thing." He smiled, and I relaxed, returning his smile.
"God, I almost forgot about that." I chuckled. It felt like I knocked on his door ages ago. Was it possible that all this happened in a couple of hours? "Sure. Anytime, Cole," I said.
His smile faded as I turned to walk down the stairs.
“Hey,” he called out. “Do you know anything about hiring nannies?”
“Not really.” I looked over my shoulder. “We had a couple of nannies growing up, but I wouldn’t know anything about hiring a nanny in New York.”
Our gazes lingered for a moment. We were clearly reluctant to end this conversation, though we’d run out of things to say.
"But," I said, and he raised his eyebrow, "I could ask around. Maybe someone at work might know somebody?"
“Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”
Another lingering look and awkward pause.
“Goodnight, Cole.”
“Goodnight, Lisa.”
6
lisa
“Betancourt?” The unmistakable voice of a bored teenaged girl called into the waiting room. “Betancourt!”
“Yes, that’s me.” I jumped to my feet and followed her into the audition room.
This audition was my shot at redemption. My agency was reluctant to send me out again after my performance at the last one. Once inside, I scanned the room. There were four people seated at a long table with stacks of headshots, resumes, and who knows what else.
“Lisa Betancourt,” my escort announced to the room.
"Thank you, sweet pea," the woman, who must have been her mother, judging by their blonde hair and their uncanny resemblance, at the end of the table, replied. The exchange made me briefly think of the teenage summers I spent working at my dad's law firm against my will. "Sweet pea" rolled her eyes and left the room.
I smiled politely and waved as everyone introduced themselves. "Sweet pea's" mother was one of the producers. She was accompanied by a casting director, the director of the show, and one of the writers. I briefly focused my attention on the writer—one of only two women seated at the table. She was also a curvy, Latinx woman. It always gave me a small measure of comfort to see myself reflected in the casting room. I liked my chances until a yawn I'd been fighting to stifle echoed around the room as I handed the pianist my music.
“I don’t think we kept you in the waiting room that long.” The casting director chuckled.
“Please, excuse me. I worked the late shift last night.” I laughed genially and plastered on a smile that I hoped would make me look more awake than I felt.
The truth was working the late shift meant helping my handsome neighbor put his baby brother to bed while simultaneously keeping him at arm's length. Arm's length was also the perfect distance to watch him dote on CJ, smell his body wash, or hear him laugh. Then there was the matter of CJ. It was telling that I'd gone to Cole's house four nights this week but didn't mention it to my mother or my therapist.
It's not like I was doing something wrong. I was just a good neighbor. Cole appreciated my help, and, other than that first night, we never did anything inappropriate, but deep down inside, I knew better. I was a grown woman who lay awake in her bed at night hoping to hear a baby cry, so I could hold him in my arms, fill my lungs with his delicious baby scent and see his face light up when I sang to him. I knew it wasn't healthy, but I didn't care. I was like a junkie, baby CJ was my fix, and I wasn't ready to justify my actions to anyone, especially myself.
"Lisa?" The producer called my name, and my stomach sank like a stone because it sounded like she'd been calling me for some time. I was yawning and daydreaming in an audition. "Are you ready?"
“Of course.” I swallowed nervously and nodded, trying to employ laser focus. “I’ll be singing ‘Burn’ from Hamilton.”
All four bodies at the table deflated. I chanced a glance at the piano player whose lips had pressed into a tight line. Clearly, I wasn't the first or the fifth to audition with that song today. I wanted to cry. It reminded me of the story one of my vocal teachers told me about the summer when everyone was singing "My Heart Will Go On" at auditions. The pianist began to play the opening notes, and my heart thudded. I had to save this and I had to act fast.
“Wait,” I said, silently praying to Saint Cecilia—and to Saint Jude for good measure—“Actually, I’m going to sing ‘Take Me or Leave Me.’”
“From Rent?” the director asked. “That’s a duet. Which part will you be singing?”
“Both.” I grinned and handed the pianist my sheet music.
The director crossed his arms and sat back in his chair with a nod. The producer picked up my resume and scanned it. The energy in the room had definitely shifted. At least they were curious. I couldn't tell if they were rooting for me to fail or succeed, but interesting was always better than boring. I'd worked on the arrangement for a few weeks, and I wasn't sure if it was ready, but after yawning and daydreaming in an audition… I had nothing to lose at this point.
The pianist gave me a smile and wink. At least he was on my side. I drew in a deep breath and nodded to the beat as the first piano chords filled the room. I parted my lips, and my soul came out. I momentarily forgot about Cole, CJ, my ex-husband, my asshole boss—everything else. Nothing mattered except the song. When I sang as Maureen, I slinked around the room, begging to be unleashed, and as Joanne, I strutted up to the table demanding order and control. Everyone in the room danced in their chairs and clapped along.
As I sang Joanne’s chorus, I slowly passed by the table.
“A control freak!” shouted the producer.
"A snob yet over-attentive." That was the director.
“A lovable droll geek,” drawled the casting director.
"An anal-retentive!" the writer and the pianist sang in unison.
Finally, I sang the words, “I’m gone,” and everyone jumped to their feet and cheered.
The director regarded me with evident interest and speculation. "That was a huge risk you took, but you definitely pulled it off."
“Hell yeah, she did!” the writer cosigned.
"Thank you for coming in today, Lisa. Don't be surprised if you hear from us very soon," the director said with a wink.
"Thank you for having me." My chest was heaving, my head was swimming, and I couldn't stop smiling.
I left the room knowing I definitely made a good impression and was going to make it to work on time.
/>
Good day.
* * *
“Well, well, well!” Sasha tilted her head down and was grinning at me with narrowed eyes. “It sounds like you killed that audition.”
“I don’t know,” I said with a giant cheesy grin. “We’ll see.” Then I yawned again.
“Why are you always so tired when you get to work?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, suddenly feeling the very urgent need to restock the cans of wine in the cooler at the other end of the bar.
“That yawn.” She narrowed her eyes at me again. “You’ve been exhausted every day this week. What’s up?”
"Who are you, the REM police?"
“Yup. That’s me in the corner,” she deadpanned.
"Oof! That was a horrible one."
“There’s more where that came from. A man walked into a bar and said, ‘Ouch!’”
“Please, stop.”
“Tell me what, or better yet, who is keeping you up at night?” She waggled her eyebrows.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
"Two peanuts were walking down the street, and one was a salted."
"Okay, fine. My neighbor adopted a baby, and he needed a little help getting him to sleep, and I've been around babies my whole life, so I've been helping him."
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded.
“What?”
“Maybe your neighbor should help put you to bed.”
"No, Sash." I laughed. "It's not like that. We actually hated each other for the first couple of weeks we've known each other. Now we're cool, and it's not a romantic thing. I'm just being neighborly."
"Hmm…" She eyed me suspiciously as I filled the fridge.
“What?”
“You like this guy.”
I looked up to see Sasha grinning down at me. I shook my head. "You need to work on your active listening skills." I smirked, and she rolled her eyes.
“Are you going to his place tonight…to comfort his baby?” She waggled her eyebrows.
"If they need me." The cooler was now full, so I stood up, gathered the empty cartons, and started flattening them. "But not for long because he's going to hire a nanny, and it will be their job to comfort the baby." The words tasted sour as they left my mouth, and it didn't go unnoticed. "As a matter of fact," I said, recovering quickly. "I told him I would ask around here."
“Why don’t you do it?”
It was strange that the thought didn't occur to me. I could, but I needed the flexibility for auditions, and the money was too good here. There were also two huge reasons why it would be a bad idea, and they both had shiny dark hair and big blue eyes.
“And give up all this?” I laughed and gestured to the restaurant with a dramatic sweep of my arm. “Speaking of which, do you need to go to the cellar?” I patted the stack of boxes. Sasha shook her head.
"Too close to opening. Theresa?" she called, and one of the servers whipped around and raised her eyebrows.
"Do you need to go to the cellar?”
“Not right this second. Give me twenty minutes?”
I nodded and shoved the boxes between the ice machines where they would stay until I had an escort to the compactor downstairs when an idea hit me.
"Hey, Theresa, you're part-time, right?"
“Unfortunately, yes. It’s great for auditions, but I am so broke. I’ve been dying for more shifts. Why?”
I took a deep breath and blew it out. "My neighbor is looking for a nanny, and I told him I'd ask around." I tried to sound nonchalant, but suddenly my heart was racing.
“Oh, I love kids. How many? How old?”
"One. The baby is about eighteen months."
"Aww. Sounds perfect. Is your neighbor a single dad?"
“Um, something like that.”
"Is he cute?" She waggled her eyebrows playfully, and I felt my neck heat up. I'd just realized that Theresa was cute. She was beautiful with strawberry blonde hair that she kept tucked up in a messy bun. She had a sun-kissed complexion and huge green eyes.
"Yeah," crooned Sasha, "is he?" Her lips curled into a half-smile, and she was fluttering her eyelashes. I narrowed my eyes at her.
“I don’t know.” I hoped it didn’t sound as harsh as it felt. “I don’t really pay attention.”
"Well, sure. I'd love to meet with your neighbor to see if I'd be a good fit." Theresa's response was perfectly logical and innocent, but for some reason, I didn't like the sound of her being a good fit for Cole and CJ.
"Do you have any experience taking care of kids and babies?" I focused my attention on Theresa because I could feel Sasha's eyes burning a hole in the side of my face.
"Um, yeah, lots." Theresa shrugged. "My mom remarried when I was ten and had three more kids, so lots of experience there. Plus, I babysat all through high school."
“Are you CPR certified?”
She flicked a quick glance at Sasha before answering. "Yes, I was a lifeguard in high school, so I had to be, and I renew my certification every year…which includes infant CPR," she added quickly.
“Do you smoke?”
“No, I don’t smoke…anything. I won’t drink while I’m working, throw wild parties, or sneak my boyfriend in to make out on the couch while the baby sleeps.” She laughed and gave me a strange, inquiring look.
A hot flush crept up my neck and into my cheeks. "Well, I just wanted to ask. I told my neighbor I'd help him find someone so…"
"Great. I'll give you my number, and you can have him call me." She scribbled her name and number on a napkin and slid it across the bar. "Once I finish filling the condiment trays, we can head to the cellar."
I nodded and watched her walk into the dining room.
“What the hell was that?” Sasha asked me.
“What was what?” I grabbed a towel to wipe down the bar. She put her hand over mine.
“You already did that.” She snatched the rag from me. “And I’m talking about the Law & Order: SVU-style interrogation just now. I'm surprised you didn't ask for her references and fingerprint her. Do you want me to help you track down her third-grade teacher?"
"Shut up." I glared at her. She'd tucked her lips between her teeth, and eyes were twinkling. She was trying so hard not to laugh; I could see her chest jerking in tiny spasms. I rolled my eyes and burst out laughing. Sasha erupted, and we were both laughing.
"Hey, what's so funny, ladies." Mike sidled up to the bar, and today his father, Big Mike, joined him. He owned the place, and we all actually liked him.
Sasha laughed again, a little less genuine. "I was just telling Lisa about a bunch of restaurant workers in LA who won a big class-action sexual harassment suit against their boss." She laughed again, and I joined in, but the look on Mike's face meant I didn't have to pretend. He'd looked like he'd just seen a ghost.
"It's funny because he'd harassed them for years, but he didn't realize that they documented everything, including some recordings. Finally, they'd had enough and bam! He’s out of a job and millions of dollars.”
"Well," Big Mike said. "It sounds like that fella got what he deserved. We have a zero-tolerance policy for that kind of business. You ladies experience anything like that, you tell Mike here." He clapped his son on the back, and he jumped. "And we'll take care of it immediately. Right, son."
Mike bobbed his head, awkwardly.
"Sure thing." Sasha turned to Mike. "If we discover any creeps that work here harassing the staff, we will let you know." She smiled her half-smile and fluttered her eyelashes again.
The two men turned in the direction of the office and walked away. I turned to Sasha.
“If I ever change my mind about getting married again, would you do me the honor?”
"Hell no." She laughed. "You eat too much rabbit food and I'm already taken."
7
cole
Lisa just left. I watched her descend the steps from my living room window, and as she turned in the direction of her apartment, she gl
anced up and our eyes met.
Shit. Busted.
Slamming the curtains shut or ducking out of sight would have been tough to explain, so I raised my hand and gave her an awkward wave. The tiniest smile quirked the corners of her mouth as she returned the gesture. I had to get my shit together and remember what this was. Lisa was a neighbor, just helping another neighbor.
CJ has slept better in the last few days. He was finally getting used to me, and we, well, mostly Lisa, figured out the whole teething thing. She was also teaching me how to sleep train CJ, which I didn't know was a thing, but after a couple of rough nights, he was sleeping longer and longer in his crib.
Having Lisa around felt natural. I was so grateful for her help though I didn't understand her motives. She definitely wasn't trying to use my baby brother to get close to me—not that I would've minded, but we haven't come close to picking up where we left off the first night. And every time the conversation veered toward something personal, she shut it down, and as soon as CJ was asleep, she left.
If I said my ego wasn't a little bruised, I'd be lying. I was used to getting my share of attention from women, and having the world's tiniest wingman in tow only took things to the next level. Too bad I only ended up comparing them to Lisa, and the idea of any sort of romantic relationship with all of this shit I had going on made me even more exhausted than I already was.
I was due to go back to work next week. Technically, I was entitled to six weeks of paternity leave, but after I found out that HC had a daycare, I opted to go back after three weeks. CJ would be two floors down, and I couldn't miss too much more time at the office. A large part of being a first-year at a firm like HC is being around as much as possible. I have to know everything that's going on and grab every opportunity I could. I couldn't do any of those things from home, and to keep CJ flush with grapes, puffs, and lately, baby carrots, I had to have a job.
After I dragged myself away from the window, my attention shifted to the thick yellow envelope on the table in my foyer. It was from the coroner’s office in Missouri. I assumed it was Crystal’s death certificate, the accident report, and the results of her toxicology screenings.
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