His Sweetest Sin

“Theresa pulled it, she got twenty-five thousand. She tried it again, the guy wouldn’t pay, said he was happy to have another kid. Theresa didn’t want a kid, so she paid for the abortion on her own. She ended up talking to Candice, who told Theresa she would make more money in the long run by keeping the baby and getting paid for eighteen years instead of just one. After the thing with Chris didn’t work, Theresa left town, her parents paid to send her a ticket back home.”

“Thank, I appreciate it.”

“Everything okay?”

“It will be.” The minute I hang up I make another call, to Diego Valdez, the best security specialist in the country. His people can find out everything there is to know about a person, not all of it obtained legally. Right now it’s a perfect fit. I tell him what I need, and that I need it in less than a week. He assures me I’ll have it.

Ending the call, I turn my attention back to Simone. She’s still quiet, yet there’s no peace to her. There’s a tension in her tiny body I don’t believe should ever be in a baby. Carefully, I undo the straps of the carrier then lift her up in my arms. She is incredibly light. I hold her close, but she doesn’t melt into me, she’s stiff as if she’s not used to being held. Tears fall as I wonder what it’s like as a baby to not used to being held. My nanny adored me, told me my parents ordered her not to hold me so often as a baby and she told them they could let her do what she was hired to do or she quit. I’m not sure how long I hold Simone before she gives in and lays her small head on my chest. A little sigh, a tiny whisper of sound comes out of her as she snuggles into me. Well fuck, it seems only right I’d fall for her as easily as I did her father.

I’m not sure how long I hold her, it feels like hours. Gradually, I realize her bottom is wet. She’s soaked through the diaper she’s wearing. I know it’s not there, but I’m up checking the hallway. There’s no diaper bag. What the hell?

As much as I want to call Chris, I don’t. If I do he’ll come rushing back, and as badly as I want him to, right now there are too many unknown variables that make him coming back and missing games a waste of time. The only thing I know for sure is no matter what, Triana or Theresa or whatever her name is isn’t getting this baby back. I don’t care what I have to do or how much money she wants, I will never hand over Simone to her. I wouldn’t hand over a feral rat to the woman’s keeping. I sure as hell won’t do it with my baby.

Woah. I catch my breath. As I hold her tighter, though, it feels right, it’s true. My immediate connection to her makes no sense, but I am already completely and utterly in love with her. She is a part of the man I love, it makes total sense to love her as much as I love him.

I pick up the phone and call the only person I can think of who can help me right now: Barbara, Holly’s mom. I’m having a hard time not blurting it out on the phone, but I just ask her to come over, I need help. She doesn’t ask any questions, telling me she’ll be right over. True to her word, she knocks on the door only fifteen minutes later.

When I open the door she smiles. “Ah, what a cutie. Is this who you need help with?”

“Yes, the birth mother just dropped her off with what she’s wearing and a carrier. She is Chris’s daughter, and from the math she’s about six months old. I don’t know anything about babies this little. I’m going to throw myself on your mercy and ask you to help me get everything she needs.”

Barbara’s eyes go wide then she nods. “Okay. Get your credit card, sweetie, we’re about to do some damage.”

We start at the closest Jewel for diapers, wipes, some bottles, formula, a new onesie, and a new diaper bag. Once the baby is changed, dressed, and offered a bottle, she takes it immediately but stops after only a few ounces as if she’s tired from eating. I’m wondering if it’s normal when I see Barbara with the same confused expression on her face.

“Can I see her?” Barbara asks.

I hand her over then am immediately struck by a sense of loss that she’s not in my arms. “What? It’s weird, right? How hungry she was then how quickly she stopped eating?”

“Yes.” Barbara holds Simone’s hands, then runs her hand down the tiny body before taking ahold of a small foot. “I think you need to get her into the doctor. Her hands and feet are cold, which means her circulation isn’t very good. Which kind of explains why she got tired eating. Why her circulation is bad is what worries me.”

A few minutes on my phone and I have the best pediatrician in the city on the line. They tell me they aren’t accepting patients, then I give them my name and Chris’s name and they have an opening tomorrow at eight when the office opens. With an appointment set, we bundle into an Uber to take us to Bloomingdales.

“You know we can get everything just as good and inexpensively at Target.”

“Barbara, if I don’t shop at Target for me, I’m not shopping there for my daughter.”

She shrugs as she smiles, then checks on the baby. “You are going to be the most stylish baby on the block,” she whispers to Simone.

You better believe it, I think as the car turns along Lakeshore Drive.

Four hours later I’m putting Simone down in the Moses basket I couldn’t put back the moment I saw it. There’s an insanely expensive crib upstairs I paid a fortune to have put together. I know she should go in the crib, only I don’t want her out of my sight. There’s also a video monitor upstairs I got to enable me not to let her out of my sight, yet I still don’t want to put her up there.

Heck, I have to learn not to curse around her. I’m not happy at the idea of her not in my arms. My stomach demands it, though. I need to make some dinner. I’m also going to take Barbara’s advice of putting some bottles together ahead of time. Simone frowns with a sad little sigh as I put her down. Me too, baby girl.

“I know, sweetie, give me a few minutes. Okay? I have to get some food.” Her little head tilts as if she’s surprised I’m talking to her. I take a deep breath, no more crying. No, no way in heck is Simone going anywhere. She’s taken a bottle twice more, and each time her first sucks are as if she were starving. However, she only gets a few ounces before giving up.

Barbara left only ten minutes ago after helping me buy everything Simone could possibly need for her first year. There’s a high chair in the corner of the kitchen. A baby bathtub drying, from when Barbara walked me through how to give Simone a bath. There are about twenty bottles in the cupboard, ten different pacifiers on the counter, six different types of formula and her own little section for sippy cups, baby plates, and silverware, and bibs in the drawer.

I’m finishing my dinner and watching Simone settle into sleep when the doorbell sounds. It’s Ethan. His eyes widen when he sees me. “It’s true?”

I nod, then walk him back to the kitchen. “Quiet, she’s sleeping.”

Ethan stares down on her, and his face softens. “Fuck, she is his.”

“Yeah, you should see her eyes. I know we’ll need to do DNA testing, but the woman knew we would. She told us without a worry it would come back showing him the father. I’m telling you right now, Ethan, I’ll fight till death, the woman isn’t getting her back.

She left her baby in the doorway as if she was leaving trash behind for someone else to throw away. She said we can keep her but we have to pay. If we don’t keep her than she wants eighteen years of payments. I don’t care if she isn’t Chris’s, I’m not handing her back over to that woman.