I swallow down the lump in my throat that comes to me every single time I think of the words I never said to her. Ari decides it’s not the time to just chill until we get home, and she wails the whole time. I try talking to her and telling her we’re almost home, but she doesn’t give a shit.
When I finally pull into the driveway, she is having a full-blown crying fit. I open the back door to see her face red and stained with tears. The big headband had slipped down on her face, so I move it up, expecting her to stop crying, but she doesn’t. When I pick her up, she cries even harder than she was.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” I say softly, grabbing her bag and making my way inside. Dumping the bag on the counter, I head to make her a bottle. Maybe she’s hungry again, so I start the bottle while bouncing her, and nothing stops her from crying. I walk into her room, undressing her, and change her diaper. She kicks her feet harder than before.
“Baby girl,” I say, and she just screams. When I get back into the kitchen, I grab the bottle and my iPad and walk over to the couch. Placing her on her side of my chest, I give her the bottle. She takes the bottle for a couple of seconds and then wails as she chokes on her milk. I put the bottle down and grab a rag to wipe her chin.
“Hey,” I say softly, holding her head in one hand as I move her softly side to side. “What is going on?” I say, and she blinks now as her chest trembles from the cries she just did. “There she is,” I say to her and she blinks now looking at me. “Do you want your bottle?” I ask. Picking up her bottle, I then put it next to her lips, but she turns her head, arching her back. “Okay, so no to the bottle,” I say. I get up and walk around with her in my arms as she settles down and her crying stops. “There is my girl,” I say, and she smiles. “The attitude,” I say as my phone beeps in my pocket. I walk over to the bag, grabbing the Babybjorn one. I slip her into it, facing out, and decide to go walk on the treadmill with her. I grab the iPad, putting it onto Baby Einstein as I start walking slowing as her feet kick my legs as I walk.
I take my phone out and see a text from Nico
Nico: Just spoke with Candace, and she said to give her a call. You’re welcome. Here is her number. She’s waiting for your phone call.
“Fuck,” I say, trying to forget about being a fucking idiot to her, and not sure of what to say when I call her. Instead of stewing on it and making it worse by not calling, I call her number, and she answers after two rings.
“Hello,” she says, and I wonder if she’s home. I wonder if she’s in her office or sitting at the island with her calendar in front of her. Or does she take the weekends off?
“Hey, Candace, it’s Ralph,” I say, closing my eyes and hoping she doesn’t hang up on me.
“Hey,” she says, her voice staying the same. I can’t tell if she’s pissed or not, and that gets me even more nervous.
“Listen, about before,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
She stays quiet for a minute. “What are you sorry for?”
“Well,” I say. “For one, being an ass.”
“That’s a start,” she says.
“Can I come over to you, or maybe you can come over here?” I say the words before I can stop myself. “We can maybe talk.”
“Now?” she asks, and I should say no. I should tell her that tomorrow would be better.
“Yeah, now works. I just got home, and Ari has been fit to be tied, but I’m on the treadmill, and she’s fine.”
“Wait, you’re on the treadmill right now?” she asks, and I smile.
“Yeah, she’s in the Babybjorn,” I say, looking into the mirror and seeing that she’s sleeping now. Her head to the side.
“Take a picture,” she says, and I wonder why. “Trust me.”
“Okay,” I say. “Does that mean you don’t want to come over?”
“I guess we might as well talk about the next step,” she says, and I want to ask her what next step. I want to tell her that I can’t go there with her, that I don’t want to go there with her, but that isn’t true. I don’t deserve to go there with her, is what I need to tell her.
“Send me your address, and I’ll be over in thirty minutes,” she says.
“Oh, and, Ralph,” she says, “that was strike two.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer her before she hangs up. Looking down at my phone, I open the messages and send her my address.
I get off the treadmill and place Ari in her crib then rush to my bedroom and slip on jeans and a T-shirt. I look at myself in the mirror. “Don’t fuck this up,” I say to myself, but deep in the back of my head, I know there is no way not to fuck this up.
Chapter 9
Candace
As soon as I hang up my phone, I’m wondering if Ralph will call to rescind his invitation to go to his house. Not going to lie, I was pissed and taken aback when he said he didn’t want any favors. I wasn’t doing him any favors. I was being a decent human. I walked away from him before I made a scene, grabbing my bag and slipping out of the backyard. I tried not to think about him the whole time I drove home, but I was so mad I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Then just when I took a nice deep breath and changed into my yoga pants, my phone rang. When I looked to see who was calling, I never expected to see Nico’s name.
Getting off the stool, I close my agenda, getting ready to pack it to go. When the phone rings in my hand, I look down to see that it’s Layla. “Hey, hooker,” I say, answering the phone with her nickname.
“Hey, hooker yourself,” she says, and I hear covers rustling.
“Are you still in bed?” I ask and then look over and see that it’s almost four in the afternoon. “I hope it’s because you’re napping and not because you’ve just woken up.”
“Hey, this is a nonjudgmental phone call,” she says, laughing out. “I got home this morning.”
“Oh, good God,” I say. “Do I want to know?” I ask. That is one of the things we are opposite about. I’m very conservative in the number of people I sleep with. I’m not saying that I’m a virgin or anything like that, but Layla is more of a “wham bam thank you for the Os” type of girl.
“His name was Chad,” she says. “I think.” She laughs. “Anyway, the man could eat.”
“Oh my God.” I shake my head. “Do I even want to be invested in this?”
“I mean, I gave him not my number.” She laughs. “At first, I was going to give him my real number, but then I knew he would probably be a clinger, so I changed the last two numbers.”
“You know one of these days that trick won’t work, right?” I say, laughing as I pack my bag and grab a bottle of water.
“Listen, if he’s going to go through all the numbers and actually find me,” she says, and now I hear her walking. “Well, I’m going to have to marry the man.” Now both of us laugh out loud. “I mean, maybe I’ll just throw him a bone.”
“Or you’ll ride his bone,” I say, and she laughs.
“Okay, enough of that,” she says. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “It’s always sad when Zoey leaves.”
“God, I swear the minute you get off birth control, your eggs are going to be fighting to be penetrated,” she says, and I hear her stir her coffee.
“That just made my uterus cringe,” I say. “Anyway, I’m on my way to do Nico a favor.”
“What?” she asks, shocked. I walk out of the house and get into the car, connecting the Bluetooth. “I mean if you are going to have a favor owed to you, Nico would be a good one.”
“I know,” I say, putting the address in the GPS and then buckling my seat belt. “But Nico called in a favor.”
She whistles now and then takes a sip of her coffee. “Not a bad favor to have. Who is it for?”
“Ralph Weber.” I don’t know why I think she won’t know his name, considering this is what she does.
“Shit, the one who lost his wife in childbirth,” she says. “Dude, that was fucking heartbreaking. I still remember they posted a picture of him at the gravesite with h
is daughter in his arms.” I close my eyes and try not to think about the hurt he must have felt. I also don’t want to look it up online and break his trust in me.
“What do you know about him?” I ask, and I want to kick myself, knowing she is going to know something is up.
“Wait,” she says. “What do you want to know about him?”
“Ugh, okay, fine, I met him a couple of days ago when Evan was down and threw a barbecue at my house,” I say.
“Sick invite,” she throws in, laughing. “Proceed.”
“He came over, and there’s something about him,” I say, and then I shake my head. “And his daughter has to be the cutest kid I’ve seen after my Zoey.”
“Jesus, you’re already smitten with him,” she points out. “If we were in high school, you would be doodling his name with hearts.”
“I’m not smitten. He’s a jerk,” I say. “Well, he’s a jerk and then not a jerk. I don’t know. It’s confusing.”
“Well, raising a kid that looks exactly like your dead spouse would put you in the fucked-up category.”
“Did you ever meet her?” I ask. I don’t know why it’s bothering me.
“Never,” she says. “He usually came to things solo.”
“What?” I ask, almost shocked. “Why?”
“No clue. I also know that he never really answered any personal questions. It was about the game. He did thank everyone all the time for everything. But he’s Canadian, and they are always saying either sorry or thank you.” She chuckles. “You know how it is, Canuck.” She makes fun of me.
“Those Canadians.” I shake my head. “Anyway, I’m on my way to his house to hash out details.”
“Oooohhh, making a service call.” She whistles.
“Why is it that everything you say sounds provocative?” I ask as I pull up to his house.
“I have no idea,” she says. “But there has to be a reason that I have a mostly male audience.”
“That’s because you think you have a dick in your pants,” I remind her, and she laughs.
“I’m the Alpha,” she says, and I can see her with a huge smile on her face. “Anyway, I’m coming over one day this week after work. We can talk then.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say. “Also, bring back my black heels.”
“Oh,” she says. “Um . . .”
“You owe me five hundred and eighty-five dollars,” I say.
“Why would you buy such expensive shoes?” she shrieks.
“Why would you lose such expensive shoes?” I counter.
“I was making a getaway,” she says. “I guess I could call and ask him.”
“Do you even know his name?” I ask, and she doesn’t answer. “Or where he lives?”
“Fine, I’ll buy you another pair. God, next time tell me no,” she says to me.
“Next time, stay out of my closet,” I counter. “Okay, I’m here. Wish me luck.”
“Don’t fall for him,” she says. After I hang up the phone, I get out of the car and grab my bag. I ignore the way my stomach flutters, and I ignore the way my palms are getting clammy. I ignore it all until I ring the doorbell, and he answers the door.
He’s changed clothes. I don’t know why I’m surprised since I did, too. He stands there, his white shirt pulling across his chest. “Hey,” he says with a smile. “Thanks for coming.” He moves away from the door to welcome me inside, and I smile and step in. “Welcome, keep your shoes on,” he says. I see he’s not even wearing socks.
Following him into his house, I pass the dining room on the way. “Where do you want to do this?” he asks me over his shoulder, and right before I’m about to answer him, we hear Ariella screaming. “And she’s up.” We stop in the middle of the family room that leads to a dining table. This one looks more used than the other one with Ariella’s toys on it. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home,” he says, pointing at the three massive couches that all face each other and look at the fireplace and television in front of it. I put my bag on the big glass table in the middle of the family room and walk over to the windows overlooking his backyard. If I thought mine was an oasis, this one has me beat.
The massive pool in the middle of the yard has a rock wall to the side. A replica of the house is in the back and has Ariella’s name written over the door, and I have no doubt it is filled with things for her to use when she is older. I turn and try not to invade the space, but my eyes fly to the picture hanging on the wall. My feet move on their own almost as if someone is pushing me to it. There is a picture of Ralph and a woman. He’s standing behind her looking down at her stomach, and she is wearing a white top and a long white skirt with her belly sticking out. Her hair is dark exactly like Ariella, but she looks down at her belly so I can’t see her eyes, but something about the picture isn’t right. There is no smile on their face, nothing but a stern look. I am about to look at another picture when I hear his voice. “We have a visitor,” he says as he walks into the room, and I see that Ari’s eyes are still sleepy. My heart speeds up even faster, and the smiles just comes naturally.
“Well, hello there, little girl,” I say softly. Walking to them, I rub her back as she lays her head on Ralph’s shoulder, her pacifier in her mouth moving as she sucks on it. “Did you have a good nap?” I ask, and she just blinks.
“She’s always slow to wake up,” he says. “She definitely got that from me.” He puts his cheek down on top of her head. “Do you want to sit on the couch or at the table?”
“Wherever is going to be most comfortable for her,” I say and wait to follow his lead. He picks one of the long couches, and I see her bottle on the table next to a blanket. I grab my bag and take out a blank book that I have packed for notes and the calendar with it. “Okay, then,” I say, sitting on the couch in front of him. “I think before we get this started there should be a couple of things said.”
“You’re right,” he says. Sitting there with a baby on his chest, he taps her bum softly as she watches me from his chest. I try to not let it get to me. “I need your help. I’m not even going to lie. Every single time I ask someone about hiring someone, everyone brings up your name.”
“Well, I think that’s a good thing. But I am full. I can’t possible take you on as a client and give you exactly the help that you need,” I say and see his face fall. “But I will help you as much as I can. We can sit down and go over things, and I can help you plan things.”
“At this point, I’ll take it,” he says, smiling at me. “I need all the help you can give me.”
“If we are going to do this, two things have to happen,” I say and wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t, so I speak for him. “One, I’m over your hot and cold moods.” I put up my finger. “If you’re pissed or crabby, then I suggest getting a therapist or some of them squishy balls, but I am not going to be that person.” I wait for any reaction from him. “Two, you have to be one hundred percent honest with me. I am not one to judge if you like to play bongos naked while a harem of women fan you or feed you grapes. That’s a you problem.” I see his lips roll. “But if this makes it a me problem, I need you to tell me about it.” I take a deep breath in. “Now, if you can agree to those two things, we can continue. If you can’t, then no harm, no foul, and I can recommend someone else.” I set my hands on the two books on my lap as I wait for him to give me his answer. My heart beating just a touch faster than it should.
“Deal,” he says and then looks down at Ari. “Just one more thing,” he says. “I don’t play bongos nor will I have a harem around. It’s me and my girl,” he says, admiring his daughter. “Just the two of us.”
Chapter 10
Ralph
I look at my daughter, thinking of the words she just said to me. Or better yet, her demands. I listened to her and held my breath at the same time. When I opened my door before I told myself it’s just a girl, I already had her picture in my head, but it was nothing like seeing her. She had changed from her dress to a pair of blac
k pants that molded her legs. A loose white T-shirt dips into a vee over her perfect tits. My cock started to rise, and I called him a traitor. It’s a good thing my shirt was a bit loose and fell over to cover it. Now sitting with her facing me on the couch, I had to tell her I wasn’t interested in her, just in case I sent the wrong message. Or was it the right message?
“Well, now that it’s settled you don’t have a harem.” She smirks and then opens one of the notebooks she has sitting on her lap. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?” she says, and it’s Ari’s turn to wake up and spit her pacifier out and squeal. “Well, then, princess, why don’t I add that to the list.” She looks at her and smiles, scrunching her nose. The way she is with Ari is honestly the hardest thing to watch. Seeing Ari smile at her and play with her just pushes the knife in my heart deeper, letting the blood slowly seep out. Candace reaches over and grabs a pen from her purse and then writes something in the book, and I suddenly want to sit beside her and see what she’s writing. “So, what and who does Ralph Weber stand for?”
“What does that mean?” I ask her while Ari pitches herself forward. I catch her and stand her on my legs, looking at Candace. “That is a loaded question.” I’m about to say something else when Ari squeals.
“What that means is pick five things that define Ralph,” she says and then gets up and comes over to me. Even better, she sits next to me, and for one second, I forget that guard I have up and smile over at her.
If this were a different situation, and we were in a different time, I would sit back and take her in my arms along with Ari. The minute I think it, though, a picture of Cassie flashes in my head. I try not to break Candace’s rule number one as she looks at me, waiting for it. Instead of saying anything, I get up and walk over to the corner where I keep all of Ari’s stuff and sit on the floor with her. I set her between my legs and bring the toys close to us as she reaches out to grab the first thing she can and brings it straight to her mouth.
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