by Tara Brent
“Hey, Max.” I tuck my shirt into my white jeans. “Could you drop Lucas off at daycare?”
He doesn’t look up. “Yeah, sure, later.”
I frown. “Are you listening?”
He keeps typing while staring at the screen. “Yeah, sure, it’s okay.”
I sigh. My comfy bed felt too good this morning after I was up late last night with Lucas. I’m tempted to call in sick, but I may need a day off some other time when I’m really suffering. I walk over to Max and tap his shoulder. Finally, we have eye contact.
I repeat myself. “Please take Lucas to daycare after I leave.”
“I heard you, Maya,” he huffs. “Why the attitude?”
“I don’t have an attitude.” My hands are stuck to my waist, and I lower my hands slowly. “Thank you,” I shout as I walk out of his room. Oh no, Lucas is crying. Again. We woke him with our shouting. Or rather I did. I walk toward his room and pick him up, holding him tight in my arms.
His little pink face is scrunched up, and tears cover his apple size cheeks. “Oh, my poor baby, I know how you feel,” I whisper. “Mommy wants to fall out on the floor and cry alongside you.”
I hum softly, rocking him in my arms, not giving a fuck if I’m late to work now. I hear voices in the hallway approaching, and Jackson walks in, followed by a smiling Max.
“Jackson’s going to take Lucas to daycare,” Max announces proudly. They walk into the room looking far too pleased with their decision. Jackson is dressed in a gray suit with a blue T-shirt. Lucas is panting against my shoulder. I don’t even want to imagine spit up on his expensive clothes.
My cheeks are heating up, and my nose feels like I just inhaled salty water. Fucking hormones. And I haven’t had sex since forever. And what the fuck is going on? Why is Jackson still in LA? I know why. There was a time when this would’ve been my dream but right now, I’m about to go off. And why should I be upset? I shouldn’t be upset. I should be telling him that’s he’s the father. I should hold Lucas out to him and say, “Good, you take over. I’m getting a mani-pedi.”
I hold Lucas out to Jackson. He and Max look shocked, and I know why. They thought I’d give them a fight but I’m not. “Good,” I tell him, “and thank you for helping out.”
I chicken out at the last minute. I watch from my car window as Jackson and Max put the car seat into Jackson’s car. The two of them together look like they’re trying to put together a chair from Ikea without the funny tool. Fuck. I jump out of my car and swoop down on them. More shocked expressions as I grab Lucas in his car seat, and walk over to my car.
“Maya, it’s okay. We can handle this,” Jackson calls out as he quickly follows me.
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I have this. Just get the car door.”
Jackson has to know. And if he doesn’t know, this is fucking cruel. It tortures me to see Jackson so attentive toward a baby that I didn’t think he’d ever want. My resolve is cracking, and I have to remind myself of that disaster of a date at the Marina. I can’t tell him. Not until I know what that was about. I’ll give Vince a call tonight and ask about Derrick Harrison.
So instead of twenty minutes late, I’m almost late by an hour and have baby spit on my new blouse. Whitney is sitting at her desk typing on her keyboard as she stares intently at her screen. This is an old brain fuck move. Whitney stares at the screen while watching me from the corner of her eye. She doesn’t speak, just watches me like a vulture waiting for roadkill. Her red-painted talons tap the keyboard as she bides her time to swoop in and take a peck out of me. Don’t do it, girl. Not today.
“Maya, do you have anything to work on today?”
I close my eyes and center my brain as I sit down. “Yes, I do.” She shouldn’t be asking me about my work unless she has a good reason. We’re co-workers. “Why do you ask?”
Whitney doesn’t answer at first. She continues to tap and study the screen. “There’s a project we need to get caught up on.”
“Which one?” I ask as I turn on my laptop.
“The helping clients with their profiles,” she replies casually.
My gut sinks. Foxtrot is miles away from being a legit dating site. It’s nothing like CuteMeet. On my app, real people actually connected. But on this site, it’s a rare occurrence. “Helping a client with a profile” is code for scamming the customer out of their subscription fee. Management supervises as an intern messages customers whose accounts are about to expire. Foxtrot has generic pictures of attractive people with generic messages that they send out to give the customer a nudge. The promise of meeting up usually results in the customer renewing their account. And then, the intern ghosts the poor sod.
I can’t believe I sold my hard work to this company.
“Is that my project or yours?” I ask her.
Whitney frowns and refuses to look at me. “I thought we could work on it together.”
I shake my head. “Since I came in late, which I’m sure you noticed, I have to get caught up on my own project first.”
“What are you working on?” she asks.
“I have to delete old profiles since it seems that eighty percent of our users are inactive. And have been for a decade.”
Whitney scoffs. “It would make more sense if you worked on retaining users than deleting them.”
“What are you working on then,” I demand.
“Deleting dick pics, would you prefer to do that instead?”
Touché, Bitch. No wonder her eyes never leave her screen. I decide to maybe talk to the intern in the common room just to get out of my office. My harsh opinion of Whitney starts to falter. Maybe it’s not her personally, and I’m just disappointed with the job. But Whitney is no Tiffany. Don’t be so easy to fool. I moan, startling the clueless intern. This is my problem. I’m constantly making excuses for people who I know aren’t acting right.
I have to give Vince a call tonight about Jackson.
After a long day at work, compiling metadata on people that only swipe left. I head over to Bailey’s daycare to pick up Lucas. Seeing his sweet face will put a smile on mine. I pull my Honda into a parking spot by the double door, and bounce out onto the sidewalk running. I have our evening planned including cuddle time while we watch a Hallmark movie together. He’ll nap, and I’ll watch.
I hurry into the room and stop when I see the empty crib. “Bailey, where’s Lucas?”
Bailey walks over, carrying a bucket of soft blocks in one hand and a play mat in the other. She shakes her head. “Your brother stopped by to pick him up. He had his friend with him. Jackson? His eyes are the same gray as your son’s. Did you know that?”
I ran out of there like I was being chased by my worst nightmare. Staring out the large window, Bailey watches me but I’ll talk to her later. Of course, Max has permission to pick up Lucas, but I hadn’t expected Jackson to make a public appearance. Did I know his eyes were the same color as my son’s? Of course. Who doesn’t know by now? For a long moment, I sit in my car then dial Vince.
“Maya, how are you doing?” he asks.
I remember my manners. “Good, Vince, and how you?” We talk a bit but eventually I launch into the reason why I’m calling. “Derrick Harrison is in LA. And he spoke to Jackson. Why did he speak to Jackson?”
Vince replies in a clear voice. “We have a real estate deal in LA—a one-off. Have you seen Derrick again?”
“No, but Jackson has been coming by a lot.”
I wait, but Vince doesn’t let off a verbal bomb of warnings. In fact, the conversation continues in an even tone. He asks about my job and other unimportant adult issues. I didn’t get the answer I wanted. And try again.
“They looked pretty heated when they were talking to one another,” I continue. “They definitely aren’t friends.”
Vince pauses but keeps his voice in check. “You should probably stay away from Derrick. Tell Jackson if he bothers you. I’ll talk to Derrick when he returns.”
I’m shocked that Vince s
uggests I talk to Jackson. “Vince, should I be concerned?”
“No,” he replies. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I sigh. “Things have gotten complicated.”
“You want to tell me about it?” he asks.
I didn’t, and Vince knew it. If he knew about the baby, he wasn’t talking. This wasn’t my overprotective brother on the phone. Not knowing what was going on worried me even more now. Bailey taps on the car window, and I use her interruption to end the conversation. I tell Vince to take care, and he hangs up before I can. I roll down the window, and Bailey pokes her head in.
“I’m sorry Maya,” she says, “you know I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the kids in my care.”
“Bailey it’s okay.” My voice is reassuring. “It’s just something I’m going through right now with Max. He was supposed to drop Lucas off this morning and instead he picks him up. He could’ve called to tell me he was picking Lucas up.”
Bailey smiles with relief. “Max could’ve but he’s trying to be a good uncle. You have to teach him how to do it right.”
I laugh as I start my car. “He needs uncle training.”
Bailey sticks her hands in her pockets and her grin tilts to the side. “Let me know if Max needs any help with that.”
That’s interesting but I don’t have time to dwell on Bailey hinting about Max. I force myself to drive the speed limit and spend the whole ride wondering how those two men got the baby home without a car seat. When I walk into the apartment, my question is answered. My mouth drops when I see the stroller from the store and a new car seat. I look at Max, and he points his thumb at Jackson.
“This is really overboard,” I comment, “especially for someone else’s baby.”
Jackson gives me a long quiet look, and I start to squirm under his scrutiny. I bite my lip wondering if I should just give up and tell the truth. It couldn’t be any worse than the paranoia. But Jackson speaks first.
“Maya, can we talk?”
My shoulders sag in a guilty slump. Max hurries off into his bedroom, shutting his door. Jackson waits for me to move over to the couch, but I stand rooted to the spot. He reaches out and takes hold of my hand, pulling me gently toward the couch. I sit beside him and brace myself for the worst. He has to know Lucas is his baby. The man isn’t that bad at math.
“Maya,” he asks, “do you really have a boyfriend?”
I deflate against the couch. My body melts into the couch like ice cream on a hot sidewalk. Instantly, I’m a hot mess. “What do you mean?” I reply, “Why do you ask?”
Jackson sighs deeply, leaning back on the couch. I can’t help but think about the difference when I would sit on his couch in his penthouse and we would have sexy times. On my couch, all we have are difficult talks.
He continues, “Because you told me once that there was someone else, but I haven’t seen anyone else.”
It wasn’t the question I had expected, and a sense of relief floods over my body and cools my skin. Maybe it was my opportunity to have a serious conversation. But my day had been so hard and tiring that I just couldn’t face it right now, so once again, I lied.
“We broke up.” I look away from his gray eyes. “And I lied about the baby. Lucas is mine.”
“I sort of figured that out.” His shoulders slump, and I’ve never seen Jackson react like that before.
“I had a one night stand when I first came to LA,” I reply. “And I was too ashamed to tell anyone about it. That I got myself pregnant by a guy, I barely knew.”
“And he left you high and dry?” asks Jackson.
I nod my head as my eyes fill with tears. “He’s not in the picture.”
Jackson pulls me into his arms and holds me as I cry on his shoulder. I had a chance to tell him the truth, but still, I’m lying. Maybe he won’t lie to me, and it will inspire me to admit the truth. I pull away from him.
“Why are you still in LA?” I ask, “Does it have something to do with Derrick Harrison?”
Jackson glances away, and I know instantly that he’s about to lie too.
“I’m thinking I might do more business out here. But not with Derrick. He’s out of the picture.”
I scoff. “Like my one night stand?”
Jackson grimaces and says, “Yeah, like your one nightstand. Maya, I’d like to get back together.”
I lose my breath, but I answer him. “You don’t mind the baby?”
He laughs. “No, Lucas is a part of you, and I have strong feelings for you.”
I want to hear the words he’s still holding back. “Then I need to know the truth about what you and Vince do.”
Jackson stands up and moves away from me. “You don’t need to worry about that; it’s in the past, and it wasn’t important anyway.”
“I think it is important,” I reply. “I know you’re not telling me something.”
He rubs his hand across his face. “Maya, it has nothing to do with us.”
I’m not convinced, and he can tell by the expression on my face. It’s a shame that we’re being kept apart by lies. One of Lucas’ tiny socks is on the side table. I pick it up and turn it over in my fingers. My baby is so small, but big enough to keep us apart. It’s time to talk to Max about Vince and Jackson.
“So,” he says, “am I getting an answer?”
I stand up and face him. “I have to think about it.”
Jackson nods, kisses me gently on the forehead, and then leaves the apartment without looking back. I check on Lucas, who’s asleep in his crib. And take the monitor before stepping out of the room. I knock on Max’s door.
“We need to talk,” we say in unison.
“You go first,” he tells me, moving over on his bed to give me room. As sloppy as he can be, his bedsheets smell like they’ve just come out of the dryer. I nuzzle my nose into the soft covers and find solace sitting by my twin.
“It’s so complicated. I told Jackson it’s my baby.”
Max nods as he leans against the headboard. “He guessed that on the first day. I covered for you. He thinks Lucas is older than four months. Did you tell him it was his?”
I shake my head. “I told him it was a one night stand after I moved out here.”
“Oh, Maya,” Max sighs. “What are you afraid of?”
I meet his stern gaze with my own. “What do Jackson and Vince do? I told you I saw Derrick Harrison, and Jackson was pissed off. I thought he was going to punch him. He was pissing him off so bad.”
Max is quiet as he studies his uneven fingernails.
“Please, Max. I know you know. You must know.”
Max tugs at his hair as if he’s forcing the memories out of his head. “When they were kids, they use to run money for Derrick’s dad. And then as they got older, they use to deliver packages.”
“Drugs?” I ask.
He nods. “Anything that needed to be delivered. They never looked in the packages, and they never asked. Vince did it to keep us all in that house. Bridgetown might be rundown, but Mom needed money to support us.”
“Are they still doing it?” I whisper.
“I guess so,” replies Max, “but now I’m not quite sure what they do precisely. Real estate is a legit business, but Derrick Harrison is still hanging around. “
I sigh, “Jackson’s dad has a lot of gambling debts.”
“Jackson should’ve been able to pay them off by now,” replies Max.
I sit up on the bed so I can look Max in the eye. I’m serious about what I have to say next. “Max, if Jackson is involved in something shady, I don’t want him around my baby.”
Max shakes his head. “Maya, you have to talk to him.”
Losing my patience, I snap at Max. “No, he needs to tell me the truth first.” The next thing I hear is Lucas crying in his room. I hurry to him and walk back into Max’s room, holding my son. Softly, I hum and bounce him in my arms. I close my eyes and run the tip of my nose along his fuzzy scalp. I’m so in love with this little boy, I’d do an
ything for him. Even letting Jackson go.
“You are never to tell Jackson the truth, Max.”
Max watches me intently. His easygoing manner slides into a grim frown. “Maya.”
I shake my head, determined not to hear any more excuses. “I don’t want people like Derrick Harrison and his father near my son. I have to convince Jackson that it won’t work out between us.”
“Do what you say,” says Max coldly. “But you don’t look too happy about it.”
I bring Lucas into my bedroom, and we lay down. I’ll never love another man as much as I love Jackson except for my sweet son.
In the morning, I rush out the door, looking behind my shoulder for Jackson to appear. I’m a little disappointed when he doesn’t leap out from behind my car and pull Lucas out of my arms. I must be stupid. I feel a sharp pain in my heart, thinking about what I’m doing. I know it’s wrong to keep Lucas away from his father. But Jackson is lying to me as much as I’m lying to him.
***
On the whole ride to Bailey’s daycare, I’m trying to rationalize my actions. Trying to think of a scenario in which it would be all right. My head is working hard thinking of excuses, but my heart shoots each one down with perfect aim. I still love Jackson, and I can’t do this. I can’t lie. I will tell the truth and that I can’t see him again. There’s no reason why I can’t call the shots and make demands.
I walk into work on time and slow down as I approach my office. There are two voices, and I’m caught off guard when I see Tina Adams in the office I share with Whitney. Tina is the executive who hired me after Foxtrot bought my app. They wooed me like a bride before the wedding, but the honeymoon ended abruptly after the deal was signed.
Tina smiles. “Hello, Maya, come in.”
That’s odd. It’s my office, but I keep my attitude tapped down. Tina gets up from my chair and lets me sit down while Whitney smirks at me. Something is definitely up. Things looked a little too cozy when I walked in.