She's My Baby

“I’m just saying, I probably would’ve freaked, too.”

“But you already have a kid,” he reasoned.

Tamara’s eyes widened as her nose flared. “So what?” she snapped. “Sleep deprivation, constant feedings, and an endless assembly line of diaper changes are not my idea of fun.”

Orlando looked stunned. “I thought we were going to try for a boy?”

“Not right now,” she said, folding her arms. “I want to go back to school and start my own business.”

“You want to become a career woman?” Garrick said, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Can’t you conquer the world after I have my son?” Orlando added.

Tamara ignored her husband and turned her attention back to Garrick. “And what’s wrong with a woman wanting a career? This is the twenty-first century. We don’t all want to be barefoot and pregnant or devote our entire lives to being housewives. At least I don’t.”

“I’m not saying you should,” Garrick defended. “I just think—”

“Ah.” Tamara set down her glass of Coke and pointed a finger at Garrick. “I know what this is about.”

“No. No.” Garrick quickly held up his hands and shook his head.

“Yes. Yes. This is about Miranda,” Tamara accused, and then rocked back with a hearty laugh. “That’s why you want to steer away from career women.”

Garrick and Orlando looked guiltily at each other.

“I don’t have a problem with career women,” he denied. At Tamara’s dubious stare, he added, “I just don’t want to marry another one.”

“Uh-huh.” Tamara crossed her arms. “Your neighbor is right. You are a sexist pig.”

“What?” Garrick glanced at his brother for help, but saw Orlando looking around as if he didn’t want any part of the conversation. “Okay, yes. There were some lessons learned from my marriage. The main one—I want a family, and people who want families should not marry those who don’t.”

“Women can have a career and a family.”

Garrick laughed. “That’s a myth.”

“What?”

He looked to his brother again.

“You’re on your own, bro,” Orlando laughed. “I live with her.”

Tamara smote her husband with a look and he quickly fell silent again.

“Fine. I’ll go it alone.” Garrick met Tamara’s gaze. “I don’t know who sold women on the idea they could have it all, but it’s not true. It’s impossible to run a business and a household harmoniously and successfully. Something has to give and Leila Owens is going to learn that real soon.”

“Okay, little Emma.” Leila drew a deep breath and slipped on a pair of yellow rubber gloves. “Let’s change your diaper.”

Emma squirmed on the sofa and rewarded her aunt with a gummy smile.

Leila’s heart squeezed and she grudgingly smiled back. However, her lips curled the other direction the moment she peeled back the diaper. “Good Lord, what was in that bottle?”

Emma giggled and kicked her legs.

“Oh, child. Please don’t do that.” She tried to catch the baby’s legs; but she wasn’t successful until after Emma had made a bigger mess. Success came after a half box of baby wipes and a mushroom cloud of baby powder. Other than that— “Perfect!”

Leila lifted Emma and then watched in dismay as her creation slid off the child’s heinie. Of course, her niece chose that moment to pee all over her white sofa.

“Goddamn it, Sam.”

Chapter 6

The first workday after Christmas, Atlanta Spice returned to its usual buzz of hectic calm where photographers were late, freelance writers were behind schedule, and the company’s CEO was still recovering from a mental breakdown.

“She’s adorable,” Ciara cooed, waving the stuffed frog in front of a giggling Emma. “How could you not love a face like this?” She leaned over and planted a kiss against the baby’s chubby cheeks.

“She’s only adorable in front of company, but not when she’s peeing on my couch.” Leila looked up from her desk. “Which cost me a pretty penny to have cleaned. Not to mention the cost of turning one of the guest rooms into a nursery.”

“You already hired someone to do that?”

“Had to. I’m not going to keep changing Ms. Thang on my expensive furniture. I’m paying a decorator double time to have the room done by the end of the day.”

Ciara continued to coo over the child. “Have you had any luck locating Sam?”

“None.” Leila removed her reading glasses and leaned back in her oversize office chair. “It’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth. Which might be a wise move on her part because if I ever get my hands on her—”

“A woman who can just walk away from her child has to be in a lot of pain,” Ciara sympathized. “That’s the only explanation I can come up with.”

Leila didn’t respond, but sat up and returned her attention to the stacks of paper on her desk.

“Of course, you look like hell.”

“I haven’t slept for more than two hours since Christmas Eve,” Leila complained, staring at her niece. “I don’t know how anybody does it. I feel like a walking zombie.”

“When is Roslyn returning from her vacation?”

“Five days.”

“Are you going to make it?”

“I’m a survivor.” Leila straightened in her chair. “I’ve had to get through a lot worse.”

“You’re going to hire a nanny, aren’t you?”

“Damn right.” Leila glanced at her watch. “I have an important meeting tonight and I have no intentions of dragging a screaming baby into a five-star restaurant. Hearst Communications has the distribution that can take this magazine to the next level. I simply can’t miss or reschedule this meeting.”

“What about that gorgeous hunk across the street from you?” Ciara smiled.

Leila regretted telling Ciara that part of the story. “Gorgeous doesn’t do him justice.” Dropping her elbows down on her desk, she sighed and indulged in a moment to reflect on the best butt she’d seen on a man.