“He has the baby with him, you idiot,” she chided herself in the rearview mirror as she dabbed her eyes and powdered her nose. “He’s not there to work, so he won’t be there all day. You’re gonna lose this chance.” Her face scrunched up again. “Please don’t lose this chance.”
Somehow, she found the courage deep within her. The thought of missing out on seeing the baby was enough to make her dig deep and gather her strength. But she had to have a plan because she knew just the sight of him, or God forbid hearing him cry or giggle, would have her falling apart.
With a plan together finally, she drove back into the parking lot, relieved to see the truck still parked in the back. “You can do this,” she whispered to the pair of red swollen eyes in the rearview mirror. Taking one last very deep breath, she got out of the car, hoping she hadn’t wasted too much time. She was supposed to meet Ted and a few other friends for happy hour at five. It’s why she’d chosen today to do so. She figured, if she was going to go in there, she may as well do it on a day she was all done up. On a count of she was trying to make her best impression—that’s all. Only she was now regretting her choice of shoes. They were higher than what she was used to wearing and why she didn’t wear them often at all. But they were all kinds of sexy, and she was trying to leave an impression after all.
She glanced down at her phone. It wasn’t even four-thirty yet. Her brakes were fine, and it shouldn’t take too long for them to figure it out. She’d get that much needed glimpse of the baby and be on her way. To her disappointment, Orlando was nowhere around when she walked in. Good thing too, because she nearly went down when one of her ankles wobbled in the big shoes. The guy behind the counter, another tatted-up sight for sore eyes, smiled at her when he glanced up. “What can I do for you?”
She glanced down at the name embroidered on his shirt. Nine? That was odd, but she wiped her clammy hand on her pants and went back to concentrating on her plan “My uh . . . brakes are making this squeaky sound. I just wanted to have them checked to make sure I don’t need new ones.”
“When’s the last time you had your brake pads changed?”
“Few months ago?” She had no idea. Her mind was so befuddled with everything else she couldn’t even think straight, and she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Few months?” he asked, looking surprised. “And they’re squeaking already?”
“Could be longer,” she said, backpedaling and not sure why placing her hand on her hip would make her sound more believable, but it felt like the thing to do, so she did and lifted her chin a bit. “I don’t remember to tell the truth.”
Thankfully, they got through the technicalities about which was her car, where she parked, and she handed him her keys. He told her to take a seat. Danica took one and sat there for a few minutes as Nine walked outside. She was anxious to hear a baby. He had to be here, somewhere, right? She’d begun to think maybe the baby hadn’t actually been in the car seat. Maybe Orlando had dropped him off somewhere and was really here to work today. Then she heard someone upstairs. “Because I don’t want him in daycare all week. A few days maybe but not the whole week.”
There was no response, so she figured he was on the phone. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I got it. I’m interviewing a few nannies this coming week, and I have a very trustworthy friend who said she can help one day out of the week. Between the three of us and a nanny, I should be okay for now. But I’d prefer to eventually just get a full-time nanny.”
Her heart swelled when she saw him start down the stairs with the baby strapped in a holster against his chest. It was an amazing sight. The man was more perfect than she remembered, and she could already see and hear the love in his eyes and his voice when he spoke of the baby. Daycare wasn’t good enough for his boy. Panicked by the huge lump in her throat, Danica fished out her phone from her purse. Stick with the plan. Stick with the plan. Don’t blow this! She tapped a few things on her phone, already sniffling. When she finally felt in control enough, she glanced up. He was behind the counter now, still on his phone. The baby was asleep, which was a good thing. Danica had sorely underestimated how emotional it would be to see him again. It’d only just dawned on her as Orlando was coming down the stairs what might happen if the baby recognized her. What would she do if he cried out for her?
Glancing up from her phone, she took in long glimpses of the hefty bundle on his chest for as long as she could stand it before she felt herself choking up. One of the times she glanced up and met Orlando’s eyes, he seemed to peer at her but then started talking again. And thank God he did because for a moment there she’d been sucked into those mesmerizing eyes and lost all train of thought. “Alright, I’ll let you know. You just take care of Grandma and Grandpa and let me handle this little guy. I got it. Don’t worry.”
Danica took deep breaths. Thank God she’d made the right choice leaving the baby with Orlando. She hadn’t been sure if he’d be daddy material, but so far, her ovaries felt ready to burst. “You been helped?”
She glanced up at the question. “Uh, yeah, I’m just waiting on them to check my brakes.”
He tilted his head, peering at her again as he had earlier. Something about the way those intense eyes seemed to scrutinize her, did things to her she couldn’t even begin to understand. She couldn’t get over how much the baby resembled his father either. Angie had been right. The baby definitely got those beautiful eyes from his daddy. Angie, who’d been known to wear fake lashes because hers were so short and thin, had called it from day one. There was no way the baby had gotten his thick long lashes from her, and now Danica could see exactly where he’d gotten them. Focus, damn it! The door to the shop opened and Nine walked in. “Brakes look fine.”
Danica stood up, holding her phone tightly in her hand. “Really?” She did her best to sound genuinely surprised.
“But your transmission’s another story. Did you know it was leaking?”
“My transmission?”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the baby’s back as he walked by Orlando. “Has a crack on the bottom. You’ll probably need to replace it and soon.”
“Replace it?” Her eyes went from him to the baby and then Orlando, who was still peering at her oddly. “How much will that cost?”
Nine stretched his lips in a slow-motion wince then glanced at Orlando. “Two thousand seventeen Kia crossover? What do you think? Two? Three grand?”
“What?” She gasped, pulling out of the trance Orlando’s gaze put her in. “My car’s not that old. I’m the only owner and I take care of it. How can it need a new transmission?”
“You may’ve hit something that cracked it,” he explained as Orlando shushed the baby who’d begun to squirm. “I can get you a quote on getting it fixed, but it’d only be temporary. You’re gonna need it replaced eventually.”
“I . . .” She shook her head, distracted by the baby’s whimpering as the lump in her throat was instantly there. “I can’t afford three grand right now or even two for that matter.”
“Well, don’t cry,” Nine said, looking panicked. “It’s still running. I’m just giving you a heads-up that you’re gonna have to have it replaced soon.”