“Yes. After you left, I asked my intern to start searching.” He glanced across at Yvonne, who was quietly observing Sasha’s play. “Luckily, the agency had someone who could start right away.”
“I…wow, Maxwell.” She cleared her throat. “I’m glad you were thinking ahead.”
“It’s just how I am. Speaking of which, will you be able to cover the costs of Ines’s care when she comes home?”
Bianca hesitated. “I…probably not. She’s covered for home care under her health plan, but there’s a pretty sizable deductible we have to pay, and I—”
He stopped her. “When you find out how much it is, call me. I’ll do what I can to help you out.”
“You don’t have to do that, Max.”
“I know. But Ines is Sasha’s grandmother, and I want them to have as much time together as possible.” He smiled at the memory of his own grandmother, with her tight hugs and country cooking. “It’s been fifteen years since I lost mine, and I still remember how much fun we had together.”
Bianca was silent for a few moments. When she spoke again, her voice was laced with emotion. “Thank you, Max. Thank you so, so much.”
“It’s no problem. Juliana and I may not be together anymore, but through Sasha, we’ll always be family.” After exchanging goodbyes with Bianca, he ended the call. When he looked Yvonne’s way, he found her watching him intently. “Is there something you need?”
She blinked a few times, her long, dark lashes fluttering. “Hmm?”
“You were staring at me.”
“My apologies.” Her cheeks reddened, and she looked down for a moment. “Why don’t you tell me a little about Sasha?” Yvonne shifted to face him, folding her hands in her lap.
For some reason, the demure gesture fired his blood. Pushing that line of thought aside, he cleared his throat. “Sasha loves squash and sweet potatoes—you know, the sweeter veggies. She won’t touch green veggies or peaches though. She’s got a little kitchen playset upstairs that she loves to play with. You know the kind. Little plastic pots and pans, a pretend stove, all that.”
“Okay. It’s good to hear that she’s getting some pretend play. That’s great for her development. What else?”
“My baby’s a big music lover. She’s especially fond of Luther Vandross…particularly his recordings from the ‘big Luther’ era.”
Yvonne laughed. “So she’s got great taste in music, then.”
“Yes, thanks to her daddy. She hates wearing shoes and isn’t a fan of pets. She has a little giraffe she loves—” He stood and retrieved the slightly damp stuffed toy from the baby’s bag, handing it to Yvonne. “And she won’t go to sleep at night without the little butterfly projector nightlight running.”
“That’s all very good information for me. Thanks.” She swiveled her head again, her gaze following Sasha, who was now scooting back in their direction with the keys still hanging out of her mouth.
When she was within range, he scooped the baby into his arms and kissed her on the forehead. “I remember the day this little butterbean was born.”
Yvonne turned toward him, resting her elbows on her thighs and her chin on her hands. “I’d love to hear about it.”
“Well, Juliana and I weren’t on the best terms then, but I wouldn’t have missed Sasha’s birth for anything in the world. So I was present for the pregnancy, as much as Juliana allowed, and for the entire twenty-six-hour labor. She progressed pretty well, just slowly. Then, during the pushing phase, we discovered the umbilical cord was wrapped around Sasha’s neck.”
Yvonne frowned. “Oh no.”
“They ended up performing an emergency C-section,” he recalled, releasing Sasha as she began to squirm in his lap. “I was terrified, because for a while there, I thought we might lose her. But she pulled through. She’s got her great-grandmother’s warrior spirit, that’s for sure.”
“Tell me about her. I’d love to hear the origins of Sasha’s fierceness.”
He smiled, gratified that she wanted to hear about his grandmother. “Willa Mae, my mother’s mother, raised six kids in a house no bigger than a postage stamp. She was a librarian and raised her children to love knowledge. She worked hard, baked the world’s best homemade coconut cakes, and somehow managed to send all her kids to college. She saw a lot of pain after my grandfather died…but she only grew stronger in adversity. I don’t know of anyone else I admire more.”
“Sounds like an amazing legacy, and one your daughter is going to carry on.”
“Thank you.” He could count on one hand the number of people he’d told about his grandmother, because he didn’t typically get involved in such deep conversations. Yet Yvonne had proven so easy to talk to, he’d told her without hesitation.
If he’d met her under different circumstances, he’d be planning how to make a move on her.
He pushed the thought away.
After all, this isn’t about me.
This is about Sasha.
Chapter 4
Just after eight the next morning, Maxwell dropped into the leather executive chair behind his desk with a sigh. He’d been pacing his office for the past fifteen minutes, and he knew that if he didn’t sit down, he’d wear a trench in his floor.
“I’m back with your usual Tuesday coffee and croissant.” Carson walked through the open door then, carrying a paper cup and a small paper sack. Setting the items on the desk, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“What makes you ask that?”
Carson tilted his head. “The door’s been open this whole time. I could hear you pacing.”
Maxwell groaned, reaching for his coffee. After a long draw, he spoke again. “First of all, thanks for the coffee. And to answer your question, it’s going to be a bit of a day.”
Carson’s face folded into a grimace. “I guess that means we won’t be working on Mrs. Carmichael’s blueprints today, then?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, Carson. I know you’re excited about learning the finer points of drafting blueprints, but my head just isn’t in the game today. Besides, I’m leaving pretty early, so even if I could focus, we wouldn’t have time.”
“Understood. I’ll keep working on the middle school remodel plans in the meantime.” In typical fashion, Carson accepted his words without pressing for more information. That was a large part of the reason Maxwell enjoyed working with him.
After his intern slipped back out into the outer office, Maxwell grabbed his phone from the desk and swiped the screen. A few moments later, he dialed Orion’s number.
“Yo, what’s up?” Orion yawned. “You don’t normally call me this early.”
“Sorry about that, but I had something to tell you. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“Nah. The boys have a photo shoot today for an album cover, so we’re already at the studio.” Orion’s job at Fresh2Deff records kept him quite busy, especially when it came to his flagship act, the rap duo Young-n-Wild. “What’s up?”
Maxwell took a deep breath. Out of all his fraternity brothers, he was closest with Orion. Despite their three-year age difference, their personalities had clicked right away when they met in college. “It’s been a crazy couple of days, man.”
“It has?” Orion yawned again. “How so?”
“First of all, Ines had a stroke.”
Orion inhaled sharply. “Sorry to hear that, man. Is she going to be okay?”
“Yes. But with the level of care she’ll need for herself, she won’t be able to take care of Sasha anymore. And since Bianca already has a house full of kids…”
“You’re gonna be taking Sasha on full time.” Orion paused as if the root of the conversation had finally become clear. “Oh, wow. This is gonna take some serious adjustment.”
Maxwell chuckled. “You’re telling me.”
Orion whistled. “Wow. I mean, how are you doi
ng, man? Are you okay with this?”
Massaging his temples, Maxwell said, “It’s not as if I have a choice. But yes, I’m okay with it. I’ve accepted my responsibility to Sasha, and I’m going to do right by her.”
“You’re a stand-up dude, Max. Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from my frat brother. Enjoy this extra time with her, man. I hear they grow up fast.”
His friend’s vote of confidence brought a smile to Maxwell’s face. “Thanks, man. The timing isn’t the greatest, but we’ll make it work.”
“Bet.” Orion’s tone of voice changed. “Bro, how is this going to affect your work? I mean, who’s going to watch my li’l niece while you conquer the world of architecture?”
“I hired a nanny.”
“Dang, Max. When did you do that?”
“Yesterday, as soon as Bianca dropped her off. I wanted to have someone in place in case things took a turn for the worse.”
“Good thinking.” Orion’s tone communicated his approval. “So what’s this new nanny like? Did you hire some older lady, a grandmotherly type who’ll knit while the baby naps?”
“Far from it, O. Her name is Yvonne, and she’s pretty close to my age.” Or at least Maxwell assumed so. He hadn’t thought to ask her age, because he’d been far more concerned with her skills when it came to looking after his daughter.
“Oh, really?” Orion’s voice took on a mischievous tone. “Since you put it that way…is she fine?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“The kind you should expect from me after knowing me all these years.”
Maxwell shook his head, knowing his friend was right. “Orion, I’m not going to do this with you right now.”
“I sense you have more to say on this particular topic,” Orion teased. “But I won’t press you during your work hours.”
Maxwell rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I hired her to do a job. She’s professional, knowledgeable, experienced…”
“I still wanna know what she looks like.”
“Orion—”
“Okay, man. Let me stop aggravating you.” Orion cleared his throat. “Anyway, are you still going to pursue the Crown Center project?”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I? You know a job this big could really put Devers Architectural in a great position.”
“I know. All I’m saying is this job is going to be very involved, and that’s if you can survive the bidding process to even get it.”
Brow furrowed, Maxwell groused, “Watch it, O.”
“Of course, that’s no reflection on your talents. I know you’ve got what it takes. But full-time parenting is going to take a lot out of you in terms of time and energy.”
Maxwell scratched his chin. “I’ve considered that. Why do you think I hired Yvonne? She can take care of Sasha during the day so I can focus on my actual work.”
Orion laughed. “Looks like you’ve got it covered, Max.”
“I think so. Either way, I’m going to move forward with things as they are. I have plenty of faith in Yvonne’s abilities.”
“She sounds like a winner.” Orion cleared his throat. “So what does she look like?”
“Really, O?”
“How long have you known me, Max? You knew I was gonna ask.”
Maxwell pictured her in his mind’s eye and tried to give an accurate, unbiased description. “She’s a sistah. Probably about five eight, slender but curvy. Curly brown hair, brown eyes. Nice smile.” He stopped himself, knowing that if he went on, he’d start talking about the way she smelled or the way she walked or some other thing that might make Orion start jumping to conclusions.
“Mm-hmm.”
“What?”
“After that dry-ass description you just gave, I know two things about her. She’s finer than you want to admit to me, and she’s single.”
Maxwell didn’t respond. There were times when Orion was just a little too perceptive for his tastes. This was one of those times.
“Yeah, I know I’m right.”
“Fine. You’ll meet her eventually, and then you can judge for yourself how she looks.”
“Fair enough, I guess.” Something clattered, then crashed in the background. “Sorry, Max. I gotta go. These kids are into some shenanigans. Keep me posted.”
“I will, O.” Maxwell disconnected the call, leaving his friend to deal with the fallout from whatever his young charges had just done in some unlucky photographer’s studio.
He checked the time on the screen of his phone. Eight twenty. She should be here with the baby any minute. Yvonne had offered to take the baby for a post-breakfast walk so she could get some fresh air. If he were honest with himself, he had to admit he was looking forward to seeing her again. They’d spent the better part of yesterday together, and he could already tell he was going to enjoy being in her company.
Chill out. Remember, she’s here for Sasha, not for you.
He stood then, needing to release some of the tension building in his body. Instead of pacing again, he moved to the window behind his desk, looking out on the rest of the office park that extended behind his building. All around him, folks were going about their business. Deals were being brokered, documents getting filed, conference calls taking place.
For them, it’s just another weekday.
But my life has been changed in a major way, and there will be no going back to the way things were before.
He’d always considered himself a thoughtful person, one who didn’t rush into things or make decisions without careful consideration. But he couldn’t remember ever having spent so much time locked inside his own mind, wrestling with his own thoughts. The nature of this whole situation left him with so many uncertainties. And as much as he hated to admit it, his new reality also left him with many doubts.
She seemed to know how I feel. Yvonne’s perceptiveness was both impressive and off-putting. How could someone he’d just met be so in tune with him? He told himself she was simply a professional, drawing from her experience working with parents in the past. But something told him there was more to it.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned toward the sound.
Yvonne smiled while she walked toward him, her delicate hands clasped firmly around the handle of Sasha’s stroller. “Hello, again.”
He let his gaze sweep over her. She’d pulled her hair back into a bun, revealing the elegant lines of her face. She wore a blue button-down shirt, the collar visible beneath her black wool peacoat, and fitted black slacks with low-heeled black pumps and a black purse slung over her shoulder. Her uniform, while professional, could not conceal the feminine curves of her figure. Where she’d looked somewhat hesitant yesterday, her expression today was open and confident. “Hi, Yvonne.”
“Sasha was fussy, so I decided to bring her in. She seemed pretty desperate to get out of the car seat.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. She’s not a fan of the car seat, at least not for long periods.” He stooped to his daughter’s eye level, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Hello there, sunshine.”
Sasha, fully engaged in drinking formula from her sippy cup, emitted a happy gurgle around the spout.
“So I see you have a reflection place, too,” Yvonne commented.
He gave her a sidelong glance, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”
“In the last childcare center I worked at, the three- and four-year-old classes had what was called the reflection place. When they did something they shouldn’t have, they’d be sent there to think things over.”
He blinked a few times as he thought about what she’d said. “Oh, I see.” He didn’t think she was commenting on his choices or the events that had led to his falling-out with his daughter’s mother, but he couldn’t help drawing that parallel. Both he and Juliana played a role in this, however. “I have been thinki
ng things over quite a bit lately.”
She pressed her lips together, dropping her gaze. “Sorry, I hope that didn’t come across as judgmental. That’s not how I meant it.”
He shook his head. “It’s fine. That’s not how I took it.”
“Maxwell, I’m not here to pass judgment on you.”
He shrugged, not wanting her to know how much her words had affected him. “It is what it is.” That was the truth. Everything happened for a reason, and obviously, a force greater than he had seen fit to increase the role he played in Sasha’s life. So he’d roll with it, do the best he could, and forget about the missteps and regrets of the past.
She shifted her weight slightly, then asked, “Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
He grabbed his heavy wool-blend trench coat from the coatrack in the corner of the room, slipping into it. They moved through the outer office, passing Carson as he stood at the reception desk, talking to Mary Alice. “Hold my calls. I’ll be back in a few hours. And see what you can come up with for the middle school plans while I’m out. I’ll look over it when I get back.”
Carson gave him a crisp salute. “You’ve got it, Mr. D.”
Sliding on his leather gloves, he held the door open for Yvonne, then walked with her out of the building and into the early morning cold.
* * *
Yvonne rode across town in relative silence, preferring to keep her own counsel from her spot in the plush leather passenger seat of Maxwell’s SUV. He hadn’t said much, either, and she supposed they were both too busy thinking to talk. As excited and nervous as she felt about getting to take care of little Sasha, she imagined his emotions were a hundred times as high. Life had thrown him quite a curveball, and she could understand why he’d be a bit off-balance because of it. Being a man, though, she didn’t expect him to admit to his feelings. She didn’t have any brothers, but her interactions with her father, male cousins, and male friends told her that men would do just about anything to avoid talking about their feelings. In a way, she felt sorry for them. Society praised machismo, anger, and bluster as good qualities in men while heralding docility, peacemaking, and cooperation as good qualities only in women. No wonder men are so screwed up.
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