A Baby, Quick!

by Layla Valentine

  We ate and chatted, though I had a hard time relaxing with the camera crew all over us. I sat on one end of the dining table, Justin at the other, Faye in her high chair next to me. Dinner was lobster and some delicious veggies, finished with a dessert of crème brûlée and some sparkling white wine.

  Through it all, however, I tried to ignore the fact that in only a few hours, Justin and I would be in bed together. I had no idea how to feel about it. Part of me looked forward to being next to him, remembering how good it had felt to be in his arms the other day. But another part of me was worried that it would be too much intimacy, especially with a man for who I still held lingering anger.

  “Now, are we ready to film the overnight scenes?” asked Craig.

  “About as ready as I’m going to be,” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Justin. “Let’s do it.”

  “We’re going to keep a small staff here, so don’t be surprised if you see a cameraman or two go in for some shots while you get up to see to Faye. It’s a little odd, I know, but it’ll only be for the one night. And I think we’ll be able to get some great footage, some really true-to-life stuff.”

  I wrung my hands together, feeling tenser by the moment. As if sensing this, Justin placed his hand on the small of my back. Something about his touch caused me to calm almost instantly.

  “Shall we?” he asked once I’d returned from putting Faye down for the night.

  He led me and the rest of the crew into the bedroom where a crew was finishing setting up some equipment. Once they were done, the crew hurried out of the room. The bedroom was as gorgeous and well-appointed as the rest of the penthouse—aside from the thick, black wires that tracked over the floor from the equipment.

  I wanted to relax, what with us alone and Faye sleeping peacefully. But knowing we were being recorded was too strange.

  “You can use the closet if you want to change in there,” he said. “There’s plenty of sleeping stuff you can use if you don’t want to get anything out of your bedroom. Plus, no cameras in there.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Sounds good.”

  I went into the closet and found the drawer with some of Justin’s sleep apparel inside. I took off my clothes and slipped into a pair of his pants and a fitted white shirt. Right away the scent of him that lingered on his clothes hit me, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly aroused.

  I tried to quickly put such thoughts out of my head, but what I saw when I left the closet only made matters worse. Justin was in nothing but a tight pair of boxer-briefs, the fabric clinging to his sculpted legs and round package. His ass looked absolutely perfect, and the rest of his body was as gorgeous as I remembered it, every muscle in his body tight and toned.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Um, yeah,” I shot out, pulling my eyes away from the display.

  “Good, because I’m tired.”

  Justin put on a pair of sleeping pants and a gray tank shirt before climbing into bed. I followed him in under the covers, the sheets soft and warm. Once we were settled in, Justin flicked out the lights.

  Then it was only the two of us, our bodies wrapped in sheets and silence.

  Chapter 15

  Heather

  “How you holding up over there?” Justin’s voice cut through the silence.

  “Um, good. I think. You?”

  “Not bad,” he said. “Still feeling a little weird, but I think that’s to be expected.”

  “No kidding,” I said. “But we’re almost done with this, right?”

  “Almost,” he said. “Just a couple more days and then it’s nothing but sweet, sweet residuals.”

  I laughed. “Like you need the money,” I said.

  “Not about the money, really.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked. “Then what is it about? The warm feeling you get from knowing that you’re providing the masses with top-notch entertainment?”

  He chuckled. “Not exactly. I just want this baby line to be a success.”

  “That’s a weird thing to say.”

  He turned toward me, a look of curiosity on his face. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Just that, well, you’re not a parent or anything. Not sure why you’d be so eager to get into the baby business.”

  “Because I saw a marketing opening and I went for it,” he said. “I can’t help myself. I love this business, love knowing my name’s on clothes that thousands, if not millions of people are wearing every day.”

  “So, it’s an ego thing?”

  “Possibly. Maybe. It’s more of a ‘success’ thing. Like with this thing we’re doing. Am I into reality TV? Of course not. But doing this project might be the thing that turns my baby clothes line into a success. And if that happens, I’ll know that I did whatever it took to win.”

  “And then what?”

  He crinkled his eyebrows, as if he hadn’t considered such a question. “And then onto the next thing. I do whatever it takes to make that a success, whatever it is, and then the next, then the next.”

  “Sounds…exhausting,” I said.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I can’t think of any other way to be. Until…”

  Now it was my turn to be curious.

  “Until?” I prompted.

  “Until I got to spend this time with you and Faye. It’s weird—at first, I was going into this with complete business professionalism. Get in, do the job, and get out. But I wasn’t expecting to like that little girl so much.”

  A warm tingle took hold of my heart.

  “She’s pretty awesome,” I said. “If I do say so myself.”

  “I’d never thought about kids before. At least, outside of these abstract things I could have my designers make clothes for. But spending time with Faye, holding her, being there for her whenever she needed it…it was satisfying, like working hard for my business, but different.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to put into words. It’s all so new to me.”

  I inched closer to Justin.

  “I get it,” I said. “When I found out that I was pregnant, it was the most surreal news I’d ever received in my life. I didn’t know how to process it.”

  “But once you did?”

  “Once I did, I was scared. Scared out of my mind. And this is still when Faye’s dad was in the picture—I had no idea how scary it was going to get. But I got over it, and soon I got more excited than I’d ever been in my life. Then…her dad left.”

  Justin shook his head. “Still can’t believe that bullshit,” he said. His jaw clenched as he spoke. “What kind of a man leaves the woman pregnant with his baby?”

  “A cowardly one,” I said. “One who wants to be a kid forever, to never have to deal with adult decisions.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about him, though. I’ll get too pissed off.”

  “Got it,” said Justin. “Totally understandable.”

  “It’s been over a year since he left,” I said. “But it’s still fresh.”

  I shook my head as if trying to banish away thoughts of Brad. “And it’s been hard being on my own,” I said. “But…amazing. I can’t put into words how much I love that little girl. It’s like my life was some dream that I’d finally woken up from that first time I held her in my arms.”

  “That sounds amazing,” he said.

  “Trying to describe it wouldn’t begin to do it justice. It’s like I’d finally found my purpose for being, and it’s her.” I felt the hot sting of tears in my eyes, and I quickly wiped them away. “Sorry,” I said. “Talking about her gets me all gushy.”

  He chuckled. “Get as gushy as you want. I like hearing you talk about her.”

  “Is that right?” I asked with a smile. “I’m always worried that I’m going to be one of those parents that never shuts up about their kid and annoys everyone around them.”

  “Nah,” he said. “Not with me. You get this look on your face when you talk about her. It warms my cold old heart to see.”

  H
e grinned, and I laughed again.

  “You’ve…never thought about being a dad?” I asked. Immediately I checked myself, feeling silly for asking the question. “Sorry,” I said. “That’s a really personal question, I know.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Justin said. “I haven’t. I mean, I’ve thought about the idea of being a parent, but I didn’t really have the happiest childhood.”

  “How you mean?” I asked, then again, checked myself. “Sorry, I keep asking these personal questions.”

  “It’s fine,” he said with another one of his winning smiles. “Well, normally I wouldn’t like to talk about these kinds of things, but something about you…I don’t know. Makes me feel like I can open up.”

  I said nothing, not sure what to make of his admission.

  “Anyway,” he went on. “I don’t like saying my childhood was unhappy. Plenty of kids would’ve killed to be in my position. My dad was a bank executive, and my mom was a big shot with this international electronics distribution company. So, I was taken care of.”

  “But you weren’t happy?” I prompted.

  “My parents were workaholics. Both of them liked to brag about the seventy-hour workweeks they pulled. This meant we had a huge mansion up in Westchester, but it also meant I was more-or-less raised by nannies. And when my parents did take their yearly vacation, I wasn’t allowed to come with them. Said they needed their ‘kid-free’ time.”

  He shook his head. “When I hit thirteen, they sent me off to this boarding school upstate. They said it was so I could get a good education and learn about life away from the city, but I had the suspicion that it was so they could put some distance between them and me. Sometimes I wonder if they ever even wanted kids, you know? Not like they had another besides me.”

  “Then what?” I asked.

  “Then after boarding school was a private college, then graduate school, then my dad died—a decade ago. I was twenty-four.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Really. It was the weirdest thing when he passed. I was sad, sure, but it almost felt more like a family friend died than my old man. After some time, I realized that it was because I barely knew the guy. Not only did he and I barely spend any quality time together, but he was also one of those ‘strong and silent’ types.”

  “And your mom?”

  “She retired, turned into one of those jet-setting widows zipping around from place to place. I might get a mass text with a picture of her in front of some waterfall or ancient monument, but other than that we don’t really talk.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m complaining.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I said. Inside, I felt grateful for the relationship I had with my parents. They were both good people, both of them always eager to hear about my life with Faye.

  Without thinking, I reached over and placed my hand on Justin’s arm.

  “The moral of the story is that I don’t really have the sunniest view of being a parent,” he said. “Or at least, I didn’t. Being with Faye was the first time I’d ever given parenting a shot, even if it was in a small way.”

  “And you like it?” I asked with a smile.

  “It’s nice, that’s all I’ll say. And having you here made it even better.”

  I glanced down to see that the distance between us had shrunk to mere inches. I opened my mouth in a wide yawn, not sure what to do with myself.

  “Anyway, I’ve yakked enough,” he said. “Ready for bed?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said.

  Justin turned over onto his back and closed his eyes.

  “Thanks for talking,” I said.

  He smirked and glanced over at me.

  “Thanks for listening.”

  We said our goodnights, and I rolled over onto my side. And as I lay there, all I could think about was how much I wanted his arm around me, holding me close and tight.

  Chapter 16

  Justin

  “And that’s a wrap!”

  As soon as Craig announced that filming was done, I fell back into the nearest chair and let out a long sigh.

  “That bad?” asked Craig as the crew began taking down their equipment.

  “Not bad, really,” I said. “Just really, really exhausting.”

  “And you only did this for a week,” he said.

  “No kidding,” I said. “I’m thinking I might stick to the clothing business.”

  Craig looked up and around at my penthouse.

  “Not a bad call,” he said with a smile. “Looks like it’s been working out well for you so far.”

  I chuckled, realizing I needed a drink. Right at that moment, as if she’d read my mind, Heather came into the living room with a champagne bottle in each hand.

  “I don’t know about you all,” she said, “but I could go for some celebrating.”

  The crew sounded their approval of this idea, and Heather passed out the bottles, leaving the room only to return with a few more.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you raiding my wine cellar?”

  “Hey,” she said, passing out glasses among the crew. “You just going to let all that perfectly good booze collect dust?”

  “That’s kind of the idea behind a wine cellar,” I said with a grin, letting her know I was only busting her chops.

  Soon, we had all the bottles cracked open and the glasses poured.

  “Hold on,” I said. “Where’s the star of the show?”

  “Sleeping,” Heather said. “I think she’s about as exhausted from this week as we are.”

  “Then let’s let the little lady get her beauty sleep,” said Craig.

  I nodded and raised my glass. “I want to thank you all for doing a hell of a job this week—for a bunch of home invaders, you’re all right.” Laughter sounded out among the crew. “But, I hope you all aren’t too hurt if I dedicate this toast to Heather.”

  Heather’s eyes went wide, as if she couldn’t believe that I was making her the center of attention. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, which I happened to find very attractive.

  “And not just to Heather,” I went on, “but to Faye, too. In my opinion, she and her mom made this whole thing work. So, let’s all raise our glasses to an amazing, beautiful mother and her adorable daughter.”

  The crew and I cheered, tapping our glasses and taking sips. They all went back to breaking down their equipment as they chatted and drank.

  “Hey,” I said to Heather once we were both out of the spotlight. “Sorry for putting you on the spot like that. I just didn’t think it’d be right not to give you the kudos you deserved.”

  “No, it’s okay,” she said. “My reaction was more out of surprise than anything else. Thanks—those were some kind words.”

  “And I meant every last one of them,” I said. “I knew you were an amazing person before all this, but now I know what a great mother you are.”

  She blushed and bit down on her lip, as if not sure what to say. I realized I loved how she looked when she became flustered—the spread of pink on her fair skin made a gorgeous contrast.

  “Thanks,” she said. “That’s nice of you to say.”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” I said.

  I took a sip of my wine as I glanced around at all the workers noisily taking down their equipment, chatting loudly, and otherwise carrying on. Thankfully the walls were good and thick, which meant that Faye wouldn’t be woken up by the noise.

  “Hey, I have an idea,” I said.

  “Oh?” Heather raised her eyebrows in anticipation.

  “I don’t know about you, but I think I’d rather be someplace else while these guys finish their work.”

  “Good call,” said Heather. “I could go for some quiet. But what about Faye?”

  I took out my phone and prepared to call the front desk. “One of the nice things about a building like this is they have nearly everything you could want—including last-minute childcare.”

  I m
ade the call, the staff at the front desk letting me know they’d be sending someone to keep an eye on Faye while she slept.

  “We’ll only be gone an hour or so,” I said. “And the staff here is top-notch—plenty of the tenants with kids swear by the on-call nannies.”

  Heather shook her head. “‘On-call nannies,’” she said. “You rich people really do live in another world.”

  I smiled, knowing she was right. And her comment gave me a little glimpse of her own life, one where she didn’t live in a building where all of her needs could be attended to by a trained staff.

  It wasn’t long before the nanny showed up. Heather took her to the room where Faye slept and let her know of any important information.

  “So,” said Heather. “What’s on the agenda?”

  “I thought we could go for a nice, quiet dinner,” I said. “Something no-fuss, but delicious all the same. And maybe somewhere we can grab a good bottle of wine, too.”

  “Sounds perfect,” said Heather.

  I let Craig and the rest of the crew know what was up, and Craig informed me that they’d likely be done by the time the two of us got back.

  Sounded great to me.

  The West Village street where I lived was about as picturesque as they came. The road was narrow and curved, Colonial-era brick buildings were here and there, the occasional super-modern, multi-story condo sprouting up between them. Centuries-old light posts cast the street in a warm, orange glow.

  “So peaceful,” said Heather as we walked slowly down the sidewalk. “Hard to believe we’re in the middle of Manhattan.”

  “Part of the reason why I picked this place,” I said. “I love the city, but if you can’t get away from the noise and the chaos, it has a way of making you a little crazy.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” said Heather. “Can’t count how many times I’ve gotten a wake-up call from a garbage truck banging down the street.”

  I winced, making a mental note to watch my words. Not everyone was lucky enough to live in the upper strata of the city like I did.