The monitor beside him blew that thought away.
Diamond Rose was awake again. Desperate now, he picked her up, wasn’t even surprised when she quit crying the second he was holding her. With his free hand, he hauled her portable playpen into his room. It wasn’t what he’d planned, but it now seemed the only sensible choice.
The playpen went right next to the bed, He placed the baby inside while she was still awake, talking to her the whole time, then lay down beside her, keeping his hand on the netted side of the crib.
“I’m right here, Little One,” he said. “Right here. I’m always going to be right here. For as long as I live. That’s the one thing you can count on. And I’m going to give it to you straight, too. That’s what I do. Mom always said I was going to be someone.”
He paused, thinking that last statement highly inappropriate. Stupid, even. Diamond Rose’s eyes half blinked open.
“We’ll get better at this.” He started talking again immediately. “We’ll figure it out together. No—scratch that. You’re great. I’ll get better. I’ll figure it out. You go ahead and be a newborn. And then someday you’ll be a kid, and I’ll still be here, still figuring things out. You won’t need to start doing that until you’re at least ten. Maybe twenty. Yeah, twenty works. We’ll revisit it when you’re twenty and see where we’re at...”
The baby was zonked. But just for good measure, Flint kept right on telling her how it was going to be until he’d talked himself to sleep.
* * *
How could a woman accomplish the tasks before her if the people in her life insisted on pulling her into distractions she could ill afford?
Hating the thought, retracting it immediately, Tamara picked up the phone when she saw Flint Collins’s name pop up.
Yeah, she’d added him to her contacts. Because she’d given him her number and if he was calling, she wanted a warning before she picked up.
“Hello, this is Tamara,” she said in her most professional voice.
“I’m available to meet with you at your earliest convenience.”
“I’m sorry, who is this?”
“Flint. Collins. You asked me to phone to set up a meeting after I met with Howard Owens. I’m calling to let you know I’ve done that.”
His voice, all masculine confidence, didn’t sound like he was reporting anything—and shouldn’t be sending chills all the way through her.
“Yes, Mr. Collins. I’ve got meetings scheduled all day today. Let me see where I can fit you in.”
She hadn’t scheduled even one yet. She had people waiting to hear on times. She’d been waiting on him. Because, at the moment, her father didn’t give a damn about the efficiency of his staff.
“You’ve met with Mr. Owens already today?” she asked inanely, buying herself a moment to cool down. She knew he had, and not just because he’d told her so. She’d had a call from her father the minute Flint Collins had left his office.
Just as she’d had a call from Mallory earlier that morning, the second she’d had Diamond Rose in her care. For the first time ever Tamara had almost had to ask her friend to stop talking. The way Mallory had gushed over the baby, thanking her for the chance to help care for the motherless infant. And then stating again that she couldn’t believe the baby hadn’t worked her magic on Tamara.
That had been right about the time Tamara had begun second-guessing the wisdom of her decision in sending Flint to Mallory.
But she’d quickly recovered. She’d made the right choice for Diamond Rose, first. And for Mallory, too.
Flint Collins was still on the line, having told her that not only had he met with her father, but that Howard Owens had been completely decent about everything—about keeping him on and the fact that he suddenly had sole care of an infant.
There it was again. Sole care. Her father had told her the same thing, adding that he’d suggested Flint take a few weeks off to get acclimated to this major change in his life. Flint had demurred, saying he already had care plans in effect for the infant. Tamara had wanted to ask about the lawyer girlfriend her father had mentioned the day before—clarifying that “sole care” meant that Flint was the child’s only guardian, for now. But she hadn’t actually voiced the question.
She still didn’t know why she’d hesitated. Just that bringing up Collins’s girlfriend to her father had seemed...uncomfortable.
Which made no sense at all.
She looked around her small office. And pictured his, which would undoubtedly still have the baby smell. Or at least her memory of it. “Can you do lunch?” she finished.
Yes, a nice pu
blic meeting. Over food. Something to do while she questioned him about...she wasn’t sure what. So far, the figures that had put her to sleep the night before were all adding up, and all looked legitimate.
What she needed to see was his personal bank account.