“Ice cream?” I asked, holding my spoon out for him.
Maddox put his mouth over the spoon and took the huge bite of ice cream. He shook his head like a dog. “Whew. Good stuff. It’s like doing a shot of sugar.”
Then he got off the couch and scooped Sully off the floor and straight up over his head. “Come here, little man. No fussing during movie night.” He brought him to the couch and tucked him into the crook of his arm.
I held my hands out. “Can I have my baby?”
“No way. No work, no reward. I changed his last diaper too, so I get to sit with him.”
“That feels like a scam. I did give birth to him.”
He gave me a look. “You’re pulling that card? Fine. I can’t argue with that.” He passed Sully over to me.
I took my son and looked down at his little face as he gave me a gummy smile. He made a cooing sound.
Then he reached his arms back out for Maddox.
“Hey!” I protested. “Traitor,” I told Sully. I eyed Maddox. “You’ve turned my baby against me.”
“He just likes talking about football and motorcycles with me.”
I cuddled Sully in closer to my chest so he would forget that he wanted Maddox.
And so that I could forget I wanted Maddox.
I wondered if having him as a nanny and living with us was a mistake I never anticipated.
When he left I suspected it was going to break both Sully’s and my hearts.
Because all joking aside, he was a gift. To me.
Chapter 11
“What?” I stared at the producer of Rebel Ink, Mark, a guy in his fifties with a thick stomach and glasses. “Are you serious?”
“I’m serious. I’m sorry, but we really need to keep things interesting and draw in the viewers. You have the right look, but we need a storyline for you. Drama. If we can’t come up with something we’re going to have to replace you.”
I was in his office at three in the morning after a long shift working and filming and I guess I wasn’t totally surprised. Nor was I pissed. I was just… annoyed. You couldn’t just be a fucking functional human being and keep your job? You had to be a dick or crazy? Apparently on reality TV you did. There was no point in arguing about it.
“What kind of storyline?”
“The most honest moment you’ve had was when you were talking about your mother being fifteen when she had you. We need more personal angles, like that.” Mark was sitting on his desk, instead of behind it. He had his feet crossed at the ankle, arms over his chest, as he rubbed his chin.
“I don’t have a sob story. My mom worked hard, got married, has a nice life.”
“Then you need to be the flirt with clients or have a love triangle with Stella and Jana.”
That made me laugh. “With Jana and Stella? How does that work?”
“Jana was clearly jealous of your client tonight. You could ask the client out, stir things up.”
I wanted this job. More than I had realized. I really loved living in Brooklyn, working with other young tattoo artists. My thoughts had slowly been shifting from going back to Stroudsburg to staying. I sure in the hell didn’t want to get bounced now.
If I had to leave the show now, I had to leave Savannah. I didn’t want to give either one of them up. Not one minute sooner than I had to.
My thoughts churned, trying to find an angle. “I have an idea. Can I bring Jana in here so we can discuss it?”
“Sure. Call her in.” Mark looked on the verge of being bored.