No jumping on the bed. That’s the rule.
“Momma, I’m hungry,” I say.
“Jesus, Paige!” she screams. “I told you to play outside!”
The man lifts her off his lap. “No, don’t go,” Momma says.
“Feed your kid,” he says, throwing some money down on top of a stack of bills already on the nightstand.
Smiling, she leans over and kisses him. “Be right back.”
Then she turns to me, pointing out the door. “I’m hungry,” I say again.
She picks me up, holding me away from her body, and marches into the other room. “I’m working,” she says, her teeth showing. She tosses me down on the sofa, my wet clothes making a squishy sound. Then she picks up the TV remote, flicks it on, and goes back to work.
I turn my head to the TV. The man on the show is making biscuits.
CHAPTER FIVE
PAIGE
It’s the first day of my new job, so I’m up early, dressed, and ready to go. Finn is up, dressed, and fed, so it’s time to get started. Despite what I told Slade yesterday, this isn’t going to be easy with a baby. Unlike my tiny apartment, this house is huge. I can’t see or hear Finn from one side of the house to the other without the monitor. Plus, I’m not used to him being that far away from me. It’s not in my nature to leave him to play in his crib while I go do something in another room. I worry too much about him and get nothing done anyway, so it’s best to keep him close.
Perhaps I need to invest in one of those baby carriers I can attach to myself. Or maybe a playpen would be better. I don’t want to clutter Slade’s house up with baby stuff, but I could take it down and move it to my room, out of the way, when I’m not using it. I hate to start spending money already, but I’m going to need something. Maybe a consignment store would have one.
With Finn on my hip, I head into the kitchen to clean up from last night’s midnight snack, not wanting anyone to wake up to my mess. Plus, I want to be ready to go and prove I’m up to the job. Unfortunately, the kitchen is already cleaned, and Catrine is already here working on the island. It’s not even seven in the morning. There goes my good impression.
She flashes me a smile. “Morning.”
“I’m sorry if I’m late,” I say.
“You’re fine,” she says. “Slade needed to go back to the city. He left early.”
“Oh,” I say, looking down at Finn, knowing we’ll be all alone tonight. We’ve been alone in that crappy apartment almost every night of his life, so why does this feel so strange?
“Want to go over the schedule?” she asks, and I nod. “This is just how I do things. You’ll find what works for you. With you staying here, you’ll have more flexibility than I do.”
We spend the next couple of hours going over stuff, everything from the computer, which is in Slade’s office, to where the cleaning supplies are stored and how to work the sprinkler system. We walk the property, and I meet a few men who work with the horses. Her phone constantly dings with texts. The first few times, she smiles and answers. The next series of times, she ignores them. When they start to come faster, she picks up her phone and sticks her tongue out at it.
“He usually doesn’t blow up my phone like this,” she says, taking a seat at the kitchen island, clearly uncomfortable in her state of pregnancy. “He’s a good boss. Low key.”
“Those are all from Slade?” I ask, fixing a bottle for Finn.
She nods, typing out a message. “Well, one was from Jon checking on me.”
“Anything I can help with?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’d say no since every message is about you.”
“Me?”
She flips her phone around, showing me the messages, all asking if she told me this or that. Reminding her to show me how to use everything from the garage door opener to the coffee pot.
“He must think I’m an idiot,” I mumble.
“More likely, he just can’t stop thinking about you,” she says, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh no,” I say, shaking my head vehemently. “It’s not like that. We aren’t together. I’m nobody to him. Just an employee, like you.”
She smirks at me. “If you say so, but I don’t know a man alive who goes shopping for cribs and changing tables for a woman who’s nobody.”
“You didn’t do that? I just assumed it was you,” I say, taking a seat and giving Finn his bottle.
“Not me,” she says, patting her belly. “He didn’t even ask for my help.”
I think about how perfect the room is and how he covered every detail. What thirty-year-old single man has a clue about diaper rash creams? Why would he bother? Go to all that trouble? No man does that, not even for nookie. No vagina in the world is magical enough to make a man do all that. There’s always another woman to move along to, one with less baggage.
“Still, I know he’s not interested in me like that,” I say.
“Because you’re friends with his dad?” she asks.
My armor goes on at record speed. Slade told her? I never asked him not to tell anyone I was “working” that night, but I didn’t expect him to blab it all over, either. “You know how we met?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, Jon told me you met at a party. That you are a friend of his father’s. Slade hates his father, so I was surprised he’d hire a friend of his dad’s.” She looks me up and down, smiling. “That is, until I saw you.”
Breathing a sigh of relief that she doesn’t know everything, I feel my skin warm. “Standing next to you, I look like a servant girl next to some goddess.”
“A whale of a goddess.” She laughs, patting her baby bump. “What did you do before this?”
“Odd jobs,” I say, which is the truth. “I was in college before I had Finn, so I’m hoping to go back and take some classes.”
Finn starts babbling, causing milk to bubble up all around his mouth and ooze down into the fat rolls of his neck. Placing the bottle down, I prop him up on my shoulder, and before I can even pat his back, he burps, laughing at the same time.
“Can I hold him?” Catrine asks. Finn hasn’t been held by many people. His doctor, nurses, the occasional babysitter, but for the most part, it’s just been him and me. Still, he’s a friendly baby, and Catrine is the sweetest person I’ve met in a long time. After wiping Finn down, I hand him over to her, then start to clean up his bottle. “He’s five months?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“You lost your pregnancy weight already. I hope I’m that lucky.”
“You look great. I’m sure you won’t have a problem,” I say.
“I’m going to breastfeed. I hear that helps. Did you try breastfeeding him?”
Glancing over my shoulder at her loving on him, I say, “He’s always been on formula.”
“And he seems to like it,” she says, tickling his chunky baby belly.
“His pediatrician says he’s almost off the charts for his weight,” I say with a proud smile.
“Who’s his doctor?” Catrine asks. “We are interviewing pediatricians now.”