His Sweetest Sin

by Fiona Murphy

  “Thank, I appreciate it.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “It will be.” The minute I hang up I make another call, to Diego Valdez, the best security specialist in the country. His people can find out everything there is to know about a person, not all of it obtained legally. Right now it’s a perfect fit. I tell him what I need, and that I need it in less than a week. He assures me I’ll have it.

  Ending the call, I turn my attention back to Simone. She’s still quiet, yet there’s no peace to her. There’s a tension in her tiny body I don’t believe should ever be in a baby. Carefully, I undo the straps of the carrier then lift her up in my arms. She is incredibly light. I hold her close, but she doesn’t melt into me, she’s stiff as if she’s not used to being held. Tears fall as I wonder what it’s like as a baby to not used to being held. My nanny adored me, told me my parents ordered her not to hold me so often as a baby and she told them they could let her do what she was hired to do or she quit. I’m not sure how long I hold Simone before she gives in and lays her small head on my chest. A little sigh, a tiny whisper of sound comes out of her as she snuggles into me. Well fuck, it seems only right I’d fall for her as easily as I did her father.

  I’m not sure how long I hold her, it feels like hours. Gradually, I realize her bottom is wet. She’s soaked through the diaper she’s wearing. I know it’s not there, but I’m up checking the hallway. There’s no diaper bag. What the hell?

  As much as I want to call Chris, I don’t. If I do he’ll come rushing back, and as badly as I want him to, right now there are too many unknown variables that make him coming back and missing games a waste of time. The only thing I know for sure is no matter what, Triana or Theresa or whatever her name is isn’t getting this baby back. I don’t care what I have to do or how much money she wants, I will never hand over Simone to her. I wouldn’t hand over a feral rat to the woman’s keeping. I sure as hell won’t do it with my baby.

  Woah. I catch my breath. As I hold her tighter, though, it feels right, it’s true. My immediate connection to her makes no sense, but I am already completely and utterly in love with her. She is a part of the man I love, it makes total sense to love her as much as I love him.

  I pick up the phone and call the only person I can think of who can help me right now: Barbara, Holly’s mom. I’m having a hard time not blurting it out on the phone, but I just ask her to come over, I need help. She doesn’t ask any questions, telling me she’ll be right over. True to her word, she knocks on the door only fifteen minutes later.

  When I open the door she smiles. “Ah, what a cutie. Is this who you need help with?”

  “Yes, the birth mother just dropped her off with what she’s wearing and a carrier. She is Chris’s daughter, and from the math she’s about six months old. I don’t know anything about babies this little. I’m going to throw myself on your mercy and ask you to help me get everything she needs.”

  Barbara’s eyes go wide then she nods. “Okay. Get your credit card, sweetie, we’re about to do some damage.”

  We start at the closest Jewel for diapers, wipes, some bottles, formula, a new onesie, and a new diaper bag. Once the baby is changed, dressed, and offered a bottle, she takes it immediately but stops after only a few ounces as if she’s tired from eating. I’m wondering if it’s normal when I see Barbara with the same confused expression on her face.

  “Can I see her?” Barbara asks.

  I hand her over then am immediately struck by a sense of loss that she’s not in my arms. “What? It’s weird, right? How hungry she was then how quickly she stopped eating?”

  “Yes.” Barbara holds Simone’s hands, then runs her hand down the tiny body before taking ahold of a small foot. “I think you need to get her into the doctor. Her hands and feet are cold, which means her circulation isn’t very good. Which kind of explains why she got tired eating. Why her circulation is bad is what worries me.”

  A few minutes on my phone and I have the best pediatrician in the city on the line. They tell me they aren’t accepting patients, then I give them my name and Chris’s name and they have an opening tomorrow at eight when the office opens. With an appointment set, we bundle into an Uber to take us to Bloomingdales.

  “You know we can get everything just as good and inexpensively at Target.”

  “Barbara, if I don’t shop at Target for me, I’m not shopping there for my daughter.”

  She shrugs as she smiles, then checks on the baby. “You are going to be the most stylish baby on the block,” she whispers to Simone.

  You better believe it, I think as the car turns along Lakeshore Drive.

  Four hours later I’m putting Simone down in the Moses basket I couldn’t put back the moment I saw it. There’s an insanely expensive crib upstairs I paid a fortune to have put together. I know she should go in the crib, only I don’t want her out of my sight. There’s also a video monitor upstairs I got to enable me not to let her out of my sight, yet I still don’t want to put her up there.

  Heck, I have to learn not to curse around her. I’m not happy at the idea of her not in my arms. My stomach demands it, though. I need to make some dinner. I’m also going to take Barbara’s advice of putting some bottles together ahead of time. Simone frowns with a sad little sigh as I put her down. Me too, baby girl.

  “I know, sweetie, give me a few minutes. Okay? I have to get some food.” Her little head tilts as if she’s surprised I’m talking to her. I take a deep breath, no more crying. No, no way in heck is Simone going anywhere. She’s taken a bottle twice more, and each time her first sucks are as if she were starving. However, she only gets a few ounces before giving up.

  Barbara left only ten minutes ago after helping me buy everything Simone could possibly need for her first year. There’s a high chair in the corner of the kitchen. A baby bathtub drying, from when Barbara walked me through how to give Simone a bath. There are about twenty bottles in the cupboard, ten different pacifiers on the counter, six different types of formula and her own little section for sippy cups, baby plates, and silverware, and bibs in the drawer.

  I’m finishing my dinner and watching Simone settle into sleep when the doorbell sounds. It’s Ethan. His eyes widen when he sees me. “It’s true?”

  I nod, then walk him back to the kitchen. “Quiet, she’s sleeping.”

  Ethan stares down on her, and his face softens. “Fuck, she is his.”

  “Yeah, you should see her eyes. I know we’ll need to do DNA testing, but the woman knew we would. She told us without a worry it would come back showing him the father. I’m telling you right now, Ethan, I’ll fight till death, the woman isn’t getting her back.

  She left her baby in the doorway as if she was leaving trash behind for someone else to throw away. She said we can keep her but we have to pay. If we don’t keep her than she wants eighteen years of payments. I don’t care if she isn’t Chris’s, I’m not handing her back over to that woman.

  “Simone acts like she doesn’t know what it’s like to be held. Then—” I fight not to cry. “I went to touch her and she flinched, Ethan. She flinched as if I was going to hit her. She’s just a baby. How the hell does she even have that as a muscle memory?”

  He hugs me tight, rubbing my back soothingly. “It’s going to be all right. She’ll never know that fear again. I’ll make sure the bitch won’t ever get close to her.”

  I cling to him, believing every word. “I know. I’ll need your help, but this is my fight. Simone is mine and it’s up to me to keep her safe. I called Valdez, discovery. He’s on it.”

  Ethan nods then pulls out his pocket square, mopping me up. “Good, once we have it we’ll be better prepared. When is Chris due back? What did he say?”

  “He’ll be back the day after tomorrow. I haven’t told him yet.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut. “Fucking hell, you can’t keep this from him. He has a right to know what is going on.”

  “He will, just not yet. What exactly is there for him
to do except sit here and worry? Tomorrow, I take Simone to the doctor. Once we get there I’ll let them know she’ll need a DNA test. It will take a few days, and we still need to get the information back from Valdez. Until we do there’s nothing anyone can do.”

  “He will not thank you for keeping this from him.”

  “I know he won’t. It’s my decision to make.”

  Shaking his head, he sighs. “Holly is dying to see the baby. After the doctor’s appointment can you go visit her?”

  “Yes, I’ll be happy to.”

  With a kiss to my forehead and a last look at Simone, he’s gone. I check the clock, the game is about to start. I clean up the kitchen, pop some popcorn so I don’t have to come back down when the munchies start, then carry Simone upstairs to the third floor to watch the game.

  She’s alert after her small nap. I notice she only sleeps an hour or two at a time. Once we’re upstairs I keep a running commentary of the game while I hold her. She finds the game as interesting as I used to before there was Chris to focus on then falls asleep halfway through.

  When Chris calls I’ve just given in to putting Simone down in her crib for the night and am staring at the video monitor.

  I take a deep breath as I answer. “Hey, honey, good game.”

  “Was it? We lost, sugar, I’m not calling it a good game.” He snorts.

  “You played great, three more RBIs. I’m calling it a good game.”

  “If you say so. What did you do today?”

  Why do I remember the promise not to lie from all those months ago now? If I lie to him now, he might never forgive me. There’s no such thing as avoiding this answer. “I love you. Have I told you that? I tried not to. I knew you probably didn’t want to hear it when you were trying to talk me into fun and a fuck, but I knew it even then. Does it count as a lie if I never told you? You never asked if I did.”

  “You’re killing me, you know that. Why are you doing this to me when I can’t reach out and pull you into my arms? When I can’t show you how much I love you. Why?”

  “I need you to trust me and stay in St. Louis and do your job.”

  “What’s going on, Amelia?”

  “Promise me you’ll stay in St. Louis.”

  “No, I’m not promising you shit. Tell me what is going on.”

  Taking a deep breath, I clench my eyes tight. “The stripper who tried to set you up...she did. She dropped off a baby today, as if she were dropping off lost luggage. She’s beautiful, she has your eyes, your chin, a dimple in her cheek and your lips. Her name is Simone and I’m in love with her just as deeply as I’m in love with you. We’re keeping her, even if somehow, some way, she isn’t yours. That bitch who dropped her off is never getting her back.”

  Stunned silence. “I’ll be home soon,” he says, then he hangs up.

  23

  Chris

  Hearing Amelia tell me she loves me is a surreal moment. I know she does, I never doubted it for a second yet hearing her actually say it... My world shifts, everything is right, perfect. Until I realize there is something very wrong in her voice. Everything after that, until she tells me I have a daughter, that Amelia is in love with her and we’re keeping her, is lost in the buzzing around me. Of course, I’m keeping my daughter. It’s the Twilight Zone. Did time skip forward? I want a baby girl, with Amelia. How the hell do I have a daughter with someone else? Then I remember, that fucking bitch. I try to do the math and fail...five months, six months old maybe, and at the mercy of a poor, avaricious excuse for a human being.

  It hits me, six months. I go through my phone. The first call from the number in Maryland was six months ago, November tenth. It was her, she was calling me. I don’t understand. Why was she calling me without leaving messages? Why did she keep the baby for so long if she didn’t want it? Fuck, I’m not going to find the answers here.

  I throw stuff in my suitcase, not caring if it’s folded. I call my manager, I tell him family trouble, he yells somebody better be dying. He has no idea.

  Four hours after I hang up with Amelia I’m walking through the front door. She’s waiting, wearing one of my shirts and a silky robe. I hold her tight. It feels like weeks since I held her. “Did you mean it?”

  “Every word. I love you. Come meet your daughter.”

  I follow her up the stairs, and she pushes open the door next to our room. All the bedrooms were empty, with different paint colors for each room. This room is a creamy butter yellow. There’s a crib against the wall with a mobile of zebra, lions, tigers, and giraffes above it. A night-light glows in the corner. Amelia opens the door wide to let light in the room. The baby is on her back, and she turns her head to find me. She’s in a white onesie with a baseball on it. Her hair is thick, black in a baby mohawk. Aside from her skin tone, only a shade darker than my own, she could be a snapshot of me when I was about her age, down to the baseball onesie.

  Her small head tilts as she looks at me. I scoop her up out of the crib, holding her close, her head against my chest so I can look down at her. She’s tense for a moment before with a small sigh she goes limp against me. I capture a tiny hand. She’s so small. Is it normal for her to be this small?

  I didn’t realize I said it out loud until Amelia speaks. “I don’t think so. She also doesn’t eat very well. Even though she seems constantly hungry, she only gets a few ounces down before she seems to get tired. We have a doctor’s appointment first thing in the morning tomorrow.”

  Turning, I look down at her. It’s clear on her beautiful face. “You weren’t going to tell me.”

  She shakes her head. “I didn’t think you coming home would help when you need to be on the field tomorrow doing your job. You here worrying won’t help anything. I called an investigator, he’ll get us everything we need to know to fix this so she stays ours. All you can do here is worry.”

  “My job, my fucking purpose in this life is taking care of my family. You need me here because you’re worrying too, and you don’t need to feel alone on top of your worry. My daughter needs me here because she needs to know I’ll always be here to take care of her. This is all new to her. I want to be here from the beginning of it all.”

  Carefully, I tug her close. With a whimper she slides her arms around me. I have my daughter in one arm and my woman in the other, and nothing has ever felt so right. I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure they never leave my arms again.

  ***

  Chris

  The sun is coming up. I turn my attention back to the video monitor I’ve been staring at for the last few hours, since Amelia fell asleep. We talked all night long. She told me what she found out about Triana or Theresa or whoever the hell she was going to be this week. I told her about figuring out the unknown calls had to be from the woman. Amelia made a follow-up call to the investigator to give him the phone number.

  Then Amelia shared her fears about Simone’s health, how she was convinced Simone had been hurt in the past. With every new revelation my heart ached. It was bad enough thinking of all the things I missed out on, but to know Simone hadn’t been loved, taken care of...I understood Amelia’s vehemence about keeping Simone no matter what it took. It was a given for me to keep my daughter but it didn’t have to be for Amelia. She’d been presented with a baby by another woman from a random hookup. Most women would have run for the door, not her. Thank fucking god.

  After only a few hours Simone is awake. She wiggles a little but doesn’t cry out. She hasn’t cried at all. I know most people would be relieved, I can’t shake the concern it isn’t right. She isn’t crying because nothing’s wrong; she isn’t crying because she’s learned it doesn’t help her. She’s been trained no one will come if she cries. Fuck.

  Chest tight, I set down the monitor. I kiss Amelia’s forehead as I slowly roll her off me onto a pillow. Out of bed, I go into Simone’s room. When she sees me she wiggles a little in surprise, and almost hesitantly she puts out her arms. I lift her up and she cuddles right into me. Her warm little bod
y against me has me fighting not to tighten my hold on her. Whatever might have happened in the past isn’t going to happen again to her, ever.

  Amelia comes downstairs as I’m thinking it’s time to wake her up for her to get ready for the doctor appointment. Her concern is clear, her hand on her chest until she sees us. I’m drinking coffee while Simone is resting on my chest. I’m not quite ready to put her down yet.

  “Good morning, you need to get dressed to make our appointment. I got some egg muffins for you, coffee is hot.”

  Her head tilts. “You changed her and took care of her.”

  I laugh. “She is my daughter, I’m supposed to. She is pretty low-maintenance. You’re right about the feeding thing, she’s only had about four ounces. Guys love bringing their babies to the clubhouse then handing them off. I’ve only changed a few diapers before, but it wasn’t so hard, at least she’s not trying to get away like the other ones did. Go get ready, sugar.”

  “Damn, you are so sexy.” She pulls me down for a kiss. “Good morning, sweetie, I’ll be right back.” Simone had gotten excited at the sight of Amelia, and she lets out a happy sigh at the kiss on her forehead. Then a sad frown that tugs hard in my chest when Amelia walks away.

  I hug her close, kissing her little neck the way she seems to like. “It’s okay, baby girl, Mama will be right back.”

  As we wait for the Uber to pick us up from the doctor’s office we’re both quiet. There was a testing center for DNA in the same big building, we’ll have the tests back by tomorrow afternoon. It was a pain in the ass not to know anything about my daughter. I hated saying I didn’t know if she had her vaccines or what her fucking date of birth was. November tenth was a guess only. A week, a fucking week of not knowing. The Uber pulls up, and it takes a few minutes to put the car seat in.

  “Hey, do you mind not taking us home? Is there a dealership around here for Mercedes? Can you take us there?”