Emma giggled and then attempted to set the bowl on top of her head.
“Give me that.”
“Leila? What happened?” Ciara’s concern filtered through the phone.
“Nothing. My darling niece is just showing me her love for abstract art.” Leila pulled globs of oatmeal from her hair.
“You’re wearing her food, aren’t you?”
“Every bit of it.” She laughed. “I have to go. It’s time to open another box of baby wipes.”
“But what are you going to do about a baby-sitter?”
Leila stopped cleaning. “Do I hear an offer?”
“Oh, Leila, I would love to…if Elmo and I didn’t already have plans.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course you would.”
“But I think I do have a solution for you,” Ciara added cheerfully.
“Oh?” Hope pricked Leila’s heart.
“My niece, Alison, mentioned to me last night that she was looking to make some extra money. I can ask if she wants to babysit.”
“Really?” Leila looked down at Emma, who now tried to shove the plops of oatmeal from the high-chair tray into her mouth. “Does she have any experience?”
“Being the oldest child, she’s had to babysit her four brothers from time to time. Since she turned sixteen, I know she’s been hired in her neighborhood for babysitting jobs.”
“Sixteen?” Leila was more than twice the teenager’s age and she could hardly keep up. “I don’t know.”
“Trust me, Leila,” Ciara coaxed. “She’s a very mature sixteen—and who else are you going to find on such short notice?”
Garrick popped to mind, but she quickly dispelled the notion. She’d already made a nuisance of herself.
“Leila?”
“All right. Ask Alison if she can be here by seven-thirty.”
“You got it.”
“Vanessa is not a transvestite!” Tamara thundered, horror-struck.
“I thought she/he looked a little masculine.” Orlando grabbed two beers out of the refrigerator and tossed one across the kitchen to his brother.
“And you didn’t warn me?” Garrick waited until Orlando was close enough and then popped him on the back of the head.
“Ouch. Tamara said the girl was having some kind of hormone issue,” he said, defensively rubbing his head.
“More like testosterone issues.”
“Hey!” Tamara popped both of them on the back of the head. “You’re talking about my friend.”
Garrick moved out of the line of fire. “Tamara, the girl has an Adam’s apple larger than mine and Orlando’s put together. She’s a he.”
She jabbed her hands to her hips.
“A very nice he, but a he nonetheless,” he added.
“Garrick—!”
“Tamara, how can you be so sure? Have you seen the girl naked?” he asked.
“Have you?” Orlando butted in.
“No.” Garrick moved back toward his brother and took another swing.
“Ow. You two are going to give me a concussion.”
“Fine.” Tamara tossed up her hands. “You’re on your own. Find your own dates.”
“Now there’s a novel idea.”
The men tapped their longneck bottles together in a private toast.
“Fine. I can tell when I’m not needed.” Tamara shrugged with her bottom lip out. “Why should I care if you die a lonely old man?”
“Uh-oh,” Orlando mumbled under his breath. “She’s not through.”
Garrick sighed. “I’m not going to die a lonely old man.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it.” She leaned forward and pinched his cheek. “Keira is going to the Baldwins’ New Year’s Eve party tonight.”
“Who?” Orlando and Garrick asked in unison.
“She’s another friend of mine. Well, more like an associate. Omara and her daughter attend the same preschool.”
Garrick didn’t like the direction of this conversation. “And how did I become the subject of conversation at a preschool?”
Tamara’s smile widened. “It was all pretty innocent. She was telling me about her rat of an ex-husband and how the only good thing she got out of her marriage was her daughter. Then the conversation went from how even though her first marriage didn’t work out, she would love to marry again and have more children. Quite naturally I thought about you and how much you wanted to start a family.”
“Quite naturally.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“No.”
Tamara’s face scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean? You said things didn’t work out with you and Vanessa—so that means you’re still on the market. You can’t give up just because you had one bad date.”
“It didn’t work out because I don’t date men.”
“She’s not a man!” Tamara glanced guiltily around. “At least I don’t think she is.”
Garrick shook his head. “My answer is still no.”
“What’s the big deal? Keira is going to the party and you’re going to be at the party. You two can just—”
“I’m not going.”
“What? Of course you are.”
“I went to one party this season. I met my quota.” When his sister-in-law opened her mouth, he continued, “I have a million things to do with work and at the house.”
“But—”
“Please.” He met her gaze. “Let me do things at my own pace—in my own time.”
Tamara stared at him, and then slowly nodded. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
Omara stomped her way into the kitchen. “Mommy, you said you were going to come play tea party with me.”
An instant smile sprang to Tamara’s lips as she grabbed the plastic tea tray from the kitchen counter. “Sorry, sweetheart. Here I come.”
Orlando watched his wife and his daughter stroll out of the room before he turned back toward his brother. “Sorry about Vanessa.”
“Forget about it.” Garrick shrugged and took a swig of his beer.
“And you know Tamara doesn’t mean any harm—”
“Yeah, I know.”
Orlando bobbed his head. “So what’s the real reason you’re not going to the party?”
“Work.”
“Liar.”
Garrick struggled not to smile.
“Maybe I should be asking who’s the real reason you’re not coming to the party tonight?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Garrick turned up his bottle.
Orlando stared. “Yeah. I just bet you don’t.”
Leila had second thoughts the moment Alison showed up at her door. Ciara’s very mature sixteen-year-old niece had six piercings in each ear and one in her nose. The teenager wore a low-riding hippie skirt and matching tank top. The outfit didn’t inspire trust.
“Hello, Ms. Owens.” The girl jutted a hand in greeting. “I’m Alison. I’m going to be your babysitter for this evening.”
Leila blinked, startled that the young girl had an even younger voice—one more appropriate for a seven-year-old. “I think there’s been a mistake.”
The girl’s shoulders deflated. “I know I’m young, but I assure you that your daughter will be in safe, capable hands.”
Leila hedged as she looked down into Alison’s eager eyes, and then quickly realized she was overreacting. “Please. Come in.” She stepped back and allowed the teenager to enter. “How did you get here?” She glanced out into the driveway.
“A friend dropped me off. Ms. Owens. You look beautiful,” Alison exclaimed, changing the subject.
Leila fluttered a hand against her vibrant red dress. “Oh, this old thing?” She winked and closed the door. She quickly ran over her dos and don’ts and disclosed all emergency numbers.
When the limousine arrived, Leila experienced a final flutter of anxiety but then banished it with the affirmation that Ciara wouldn’t have sent her niece if she didn’t trust the girl herself.
/> “Good night, Ms. Owens. Enjoy the party.” Alison waved from the door.
Leila took a deep breath and fought the urge to run back into the house and perform another double check on the child. She pulled her fur coat close to her body and approached the chauffeur and the limo’s open door.
“Good evening, Ms. Owens.”
“Good evening.” She smiled and then glanced up across the street. When she recognized the figure illuminated in the second-floor window, she waved with a smile and then eased into the car.
Chapter 13
Rooted in front of his bedroom window, Garrick watched in disappointment as the black limousine pulled away from Leila’s driveway. In hindsight, it was presumptuous to assume his neighbor didn’t have plans for the evening.
He turned and glanced at the tuxedo he’d laid across the bed. “Looks like I won’t be needing you.” He sighed and left the bedroom to return downstairs.
The heavenly scent of fresh mint and honey wafted throughout the house and churned Garrick’s stomach. Once in the kitchen, he opened the oven and removed his signature dish of mint-rubbed leg of lamb and steamed vegetables.
“So much for wowing her with my great culinary skills,” he droned. He removed the bottle of champagne he’d set on ice and placed it in the fridge.
A magnet from the local pizza joint caught his attention and he gave serious thoughts to calling them up, but then decided not to waste a perfectly good meal. As he fixed his plate, he couldn’t help but remember the number of times he’d cooked or planned an evening with Miranda only to be told at the last minute that she couldn’t make it or she’d forgotten about it.
No doubt a magazine founder would have the same hectic schedule. Why was he always attracted to the wrong women?
Garrick shook his head, grabbed a beer, and took his meal up to his home office. In truth, he did have a lot of work to do; but as the minutes ticked on, he discovered that his heart wasn’t into it.
After two hours, he pushed back from his draft table and glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten o’clock. Maybe if he hurried, he could make it to the Baldwins’ party before eleven.
There was no sense in bringing in the New Year alone. Of course, there was the horrible thought of meeting that Keira character. He returned the dishes to the kitchen while he weighed his options; even then his thoughts centered on Leila.
Undoubtedly, in the red number peeking out from beneath her coat, the men would be flocking all over her—wherever it was she’d gone for the evening. If she was out having a good time, why shouldn’t he?
He bobbed his head in agreement to his own argument and went upstairs to change into his tux. As calculated, he rushed out of the front door at a quarter to eleven; but he’d only made it as far as his car door, when a loud blast of music from across the street caught his ear.
Is that coming from Leila’s place?
He glanced around and noticed a crowd of cars at a few of his neighbors’—maybe the music was coming from there. He frowned when he noticed something else: a black Mustang.
That wasn’t there earlier, was it?
Garrick stared at the car—wondering.
Finally, he shrugged it off and slid into his car. When he placed his key into the ignition, he stopped. “It wouldn’t hurt to just go check things out.”
Stepping out of the car, he told himself he was overreacting; yet, it didn’t stop him from strolling across the street. The blaring music was coming from Leila’s and it didn’t sit right. Wasn’t Emma there, and shouldn’t she be asleep by now?
He rang the doorbell and waited. After a few minutes, Garrick tried the door, relieved and troubled to find it unlocked.
“Hello,” he called, entering the house. The music seemed ten times louder inside and he followed its sound. “Hello.” He rounded into the living room.
A girl jerked her head up from the couch and screamed.
He jumped as the girl scrambled for her shirt. Before he could say anything, a teenage boy also sat up with a deer-in-headlights expression on his face. Suddenly, everything made sense.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” the teenage girl asked.
Garrick clenched his jaw as he headed over to the stereo and turned it off. When he did so, Emma’s cries and a ringing phone filled the house.
“I’m Garrick Grayson, Ms. Owens’s neighbor. And I think it’s time you two went home.”
Leila flipped her cell phone closed and tried to control her anxiety. Something had to be wrong. Why else would Alison not answer the phone? “I knew this was a bad idea,” she mumbled under her breath and exited the ladies’ room.
Returning to the main ballroom, she pasted on a broad smile while she navigated around the room to search for her host, Christian Williams.
“Are you sure you have to leave?” Christian, a beautiful woman and cancer survivor, graciously drew Leila aside. “We were going to do the presentations next.”
“I know and I’m sorry. But I’ve been trying to call the babysitter—”
“Oh, Leila.” Christian bounced excitedly. “I didn’t know you had a baby! Congratulations. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What—?”
Christian turned and called her husband, Jordan, the president of Opulence jewelry, to her side. “Leila had a baby,” she announced, clutching her husband.
“No, no.” Leila laughed at the misunderstanding and at the idea. “I didn’t have a baby.”
“But you said—”
“My sister, Samantha, had a baby. I’m just taking care of her daughter—my niece—for a little while.”
Christian laughed as her face colored with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” She glanced up at her husband and apologized again. “I misunderstood.”
“It’s okay. The misunderstanding has been happening a lot.”
“Well at least that makes more sense. I can hardly imagine you having a baby.” Christian laughed.
Leila maintained her smile despite how the comment felt like a kick to the gut. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Christian blinked. “It’s just that you’ve always claimed that motherhood was not for you—remember?” A few inches shaved off Christian’s smile as she suddenly looked uncertain. “I didn’t mean to imply that you wouldn’t make a good mother.”
“No, that’s not what she meant.” Jordan jumped in to defend his wife.
“You’re right,” Leila proclaimed, letting her friend off the hook. “Motherhood is definitely…not for me.” Judging by their faces, she didn’t convince them.
Christian cleared her throat and looked nervously at Jordan. A moment of awkward silence hung between the threesome.
“Anyway, I better get going,” Leila said.
“No. There’s just an hour left to the new year,” Jordan protested. “Don’t you want to bring it in with us?”
“I would love to—but I need to get home and check on Emma.”
“Ten minutes,” Christian coerced. “We’ll go ahead and do the presentation to the American Cancer Association and then you can go. Deal?”
Leila’s bubble of anxiety swelled, but Christian’s pleading look worked wonders on her guilt. “Ten minutes,” Leila agreed. “Then I’m going home to bring the new year in with my niece.”
“Mr. Grayson, are you sure you have to tell Ms. Owens about this? If you do, she’ll tell my aunt, and then she will tell my mom—”
Garrick held Emma in his arms as he walked the teenagers to the door. “I’m not unsympathetic to your problem, Alison. But this is about bad decisions, consequences, and taking responsibility for your actions.”
Alison’s bottom lip sagged. “You’re going to tell her.”
“I’m going to tell her.” He nodded.
“Come on, George. We better go. It’s probably going to be the last time you see me until my thirty-fifth birthday.”
Garrick smirked as he closed the door behind the teenagers. “Looks like it’s you and me, kid.”
> Emma smiled and made a grab for his tie.
At the sudden constriction of his air supply, Garrick quickly pried her finger loose. “That’s a mighty powerful grip you have there, Miss Owens. I’m assuming it’s Owens.”
She clapped her hands and attempted to speak—or sing—or something.
Garrick laughed. “Come on, let’s see if we can at least catch the countdown.”
It was close to midnight when Leila’s limousine pulled up to her house. At least Alison hadn’t burned down the house. Now that Leila was back home, it felt ridiculous to have spent all night worrying.
She tipped and thanked the chauffeur for his services and then braced herself before she entered the house. Another wave of relief washed through her at the house’s silence.
“Hello…Alison?” Leila strolled through the house still pleased to find nothing was out of place. “Looks like she is responsible,” she surmised at seeing the kitchen clean. She glanced again at her watch. The young girl was probably asleep. When she rounded the kitchen’s corner, she heard the television in the living room.
The lights were out, a low fire burned in the fire-place, and the ball was dropping on the flat screen; but she still didn’t see Alison. She approached the back of the sofa and gasped in surprise.
“Garrick?”
At the sound of his name, Garrick opened his eyes and smiled lazily up at her. “Good evening, beautiful.”
Leila made another glance around the room. “What are you doing here?”
“Babysitting,” he said simply.
When it was clear that he wasn’t going to say more, she tried again. “Why are you babysitting? Where is Alison?”
“I sent her and her boyfriend home.” He held on to Emma while he sat up.
“Boyfriend?”
He climbed to his feet. “I’m afraid so. Seems I walked in on them…playing doctor.”
A vibrant color of red flashed before Leila’s eyes. “I’m going to kill her,” she growled.
“That’s probably not going to be necessary. She seems to be under the impression that when you talk to her aunt that she’s going to be grounded for the next couple of decades.”
“Are you kidding? I want the girl in pain.” Leila slapped her purse down on the end table and snatched the cordless phone.
She’s My Baby Page 8