“And hopefully you see me as more than just the manwhore next door.”
“Not quite yet.” I winked. “But we’re getting there.”
He chuckled. “Take care, Carys. And if you need anything from the outside world, just say the word.”
My brow lifted. “What’s the word?”
He scratched his chin. “That would have to be…monkey balls.”
I cackled. “Ah. The perfect choice.”
As he headed to his apartment, I called after him, “Thanks again for the diapers and coffee.”
He turned around to face me, walking backwards and flashing a gorgeous smile that made my heart ache a little. “Diapers and coffee. Can’t say I’ve ever been thanked for that combination before.” He winked. “My pleasure.”
After I closed the door, I leaned back against it, catching myself mid-swoon.
Really, Carys? You’re pathetic.
Don’t even go there. He wouldn’t touch this situation with a ten-foot pole. Leave it to my starving heart to take a man’s charitable gesture and turn it into the beginning of some unrealistic romance.
After I polished off the rest of my coffee, I opened up the bag of diapers he’d brought.
There was more than just the package of Luv’s inside.
He’d thrown in a little stuffed Peppa Pig.
And some earplugs.
CHAPTER 2
Carys
BABY WHISPERER
A couple of weeks later, Sunny had a pediatrician appointment downtown late in the afternoon. Since we were out and about anyway, I took her to meet my friend Simone for an early dinner at a restaurant near the doctor’s office.
“How did her appointment go?” Simone asked as she perused the laminated card that listed today’s specials.
“Six-month checkup went great. The doctor says her weight is right on target for her age.”
“I’m so glad.” She looked up from the menu. “And how are you?”
I paused, momentarily stumped as to how to answer that. “Good…good.”
There was no point in venting about my day-to-day problems. Simone and I were in two different places in life, and she likely wouldn’t understand. As one of the city’s top ballet dancers, Simone was where I would have been had I not been injured: an elite principal dancer, performing at night, sleeping in most mornings, and attending rehearsals in the afternoons, in addition to having an active social life. In many ways, I lived vicariously through her. So, instead of admitting that most days I felt lonely or worried about my finances, I just responded with good.
“Have you been taking care of yourself?” she asked.
“You mean like…self-care?”
“Yeah. Taking time for yourself.”
I looked over at Sunny, who was sitting up in the highchair. Her cheeks were flushed, likely from the vaccine she’d just received. The doctor had warned me she might get a bit feverish.
I placed my hand on her forehead. “I rest when she rests, but I haven’t had a chance to go out much or, you know, get a massage or some crap like that. There’s just no time.”
Our food arrived, and Simone’s questions stopped for a bit as we shoveled in our burgers and fries.
“Are you thinking of going back to work at some point?” she asked suddenly.
Wiping the ketchup off the side of my mouth, I answered. “If I can find someone I trust to watch Sunny. But then I’d have to weigh the cost versus benefit.”
“It’s too bad your mom isn’t closer.”
What a joke. “Well, not sure she’d be able to handle it anyway.”
I loved my mother, but she wasn’t capable of taking care of Sunny. She’d had my brother and me pretty young, and had told me she was done raising kids and now was her time to enjoy life. She’d moved from where I grew up in New Jersey to Florida a few years ago. She’d made her position clear to me the couple of times I’d hinted that I’d appreciate it if she visited more.
Simone jumped in her seat a little, looking like she’d had a lightbulb moment. “You know, Cynthia was telling me they’re looking to hire a new PR person. I wonder if she’d consider you for the job. I mean, you know the ins and outs of the ballet. You’re attractive—when you’re not in your mom uniform—and you’re personable. I bet you could do a lot of it from home, writing press releases and such. You’d probably only have to go into the office occasionally or show up for special events.”
Simone performed for a different ballet company than I had. While I’d never consider going back to work for my old company—since Sunny’s estranged father was still the director—a job at a competitor would be ideal.
I perked up at her suggestion. “Really? You think she’d consider me?”
“She’s always talking about how much she admires you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but we talk about how much of a shame it is that you were injured in the prime of your career. You’re legendary in many ways. Everyone wonders what could have been if Carys Kincaid hadn’t been taken out.”
I felt her words deep in my soul. The agony over never being able to perform professionally again was something I tried to suppress.
“I’d rather still be dancing than be a legend, but it’s nice to know I’m respected posthumously.”
“Posthumously? You’re not dead, Carys!”
“I know, but in the ballet world, I might as well be.”
“Look at it this way, if it weren’t for your accident, you’d still be dancing, but you might never have gotten close to Charles, and Sunny would never have come to be. As much as we hate Charles now, he brought you Sunny. Everything happens for a reason.”
“Well, I definitely don’t regret her, so you’re right about that.”
I looked over at my daughter. Sunny smiled as if she could understand we were talking about her. I loved her little pumpkin face so much. She had the Peppa Pig Deacon had gotten her from the store in her hand and waved it around.
“That’s such a cute toy,” Simone said.
“My neighbor bought it for her.”
“The old lady across the hall?”
“No. Not crazy Mrs. Winsbanger. The guy in 5B.”
Her eyes widened. “The hot one we saw leaving the last time I visited you?”
“Yeah. Deacon.”
“He bought her a toy?”
I nodded. “He ran to the store for me a couple of weeks ago and bought that as a surprise. And that was after I scolded him for fucking someone too loudly the night before.”
Simone covered her mouth. “Oh shit. You scolded him?”
“Yeah. Kind of an embarrassing conversation, but he was really cool when I asked him if he could please keep it down.”
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “I bet I know a way around that little problem.”
“What’s that?”
“He can keep you up in a different way—you know, on your side of the wall.” She winked. “You can’t complain if you’re the one getting the action.”
“Very funny.” I brushed off her joke, but I felt my insides heat up. It wasn’t like that hadn’t already occurred to me. Before I could explain why it wouldn’t be happening, she stood up.