The Baby (The Boss 5)

“So they tell me,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I don’t know what your plans were for the rest of day,” I said, nibbling my bottom lip anxiously. Suggesting that we hang out more today could either sound like a sleazy come on, or like I was desperately lonely. I wasn’t sure which would be worse.

“Well, I’m covered in lube and Sophie. I could really use a shower.” she said with a saucy smile that curled my toes. “What did you have in mind?”

I want to listen to Lana Del Rey and smoke a joint naked with you. God, I still wanted her. It wasn’t just because I’d needed human touch for a long time. She had some kind of hormonal leash on me. “Did you…need anybody to make out with you in that shower?”

She tapped the corner of her mouth as she pretended to consider. “Now that you mention it…”

I said the only thing that sounded like an appropriate response. “I volunteer as tribute.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Gena’s visit put me in a good mood for the entire next week. An obnoxiously good mood, Deja informed me as I flitted around the office like a hummingbird on meth. Though I missed Neil and still worried about him, having just that little bit of intimate human contact had healed some of my sadness. I made it through the week without crying even once.

The very best part of the week was that Olivia finally came home. I greeted her and Valerie at the airport, practically snatching the baby from her grandmother’s arms. Olivia squealed as I hugged her, and my heart melted.

“How was she?” I asked Valerie without looking at her, because I was too enraptured looking at Olivia. “I think she grew while she was away.”

“It’s very possible. She ate like a tiny horse.” Valerie paused, then asked, “How are you?”

I glanced up. I felt too much joy to bring everything down talking about my absent husband. I settled for a simple, “Fine. And Neil’s doing fine.”

“Still in hospital?” she asked sympathetically.

“Yeah, but I’m getting used to it.” I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so I bounced Olivia in my arms and cooed, “Things are much better now that you’re back.”

When I looked up, a sad, wistful expression crossed Valerie’s face. She forced it away with a fake smile. “Well, I’m knackered. Let me give this wonderful girl a kiss.”

She leaned in to kiss Olivia’s head, then hugged me, probably because our close proximity seemed weird without it. “Grandma will come see you, soon,” she promised Olivia.

I carried Olivia to the car, where Tony, freshly tanned from the Cabo vacation, loaded the last of Olivia’s luggage into the trunk of the Maybach. He opened the door for us, and I leaned in to strap Olivia into her car seat. Then, I remembered the very important day that had passed only a few days earlier.

“Happy birthday, my sweet girl!” I exclaimed, and she grinned up at me. I assumed Valerie had spoiled the bejeezus out of her, and I trusted that Olivia already associated the word “birthday” with “mounds of new toys”.

I wasn’t about to teach the kid a lesson in moderation. I looked over my shoulder at Tony. “You know what, cancel that ride home.” I turned back to Olivia. “We’re having a Sophie and Olivia big-girl birthday-shopping day!”

* * * *

The beginning of June came and went, and so did my first wedding anniversary. The day was brutal. I should have been spending a romantic dinner with Neil, maybe a weekend trip to Paris or even the Venice apartment I’d yet to see. Instead, I’d thawed out our wedding cake top and eaten it with Mom while I’d cried and she’d done her best to comfort me.

I’d just climbed into bed with all of my pathetic adult lonely bedtime supplies—box of kleenex, tablet, phone, extra blanket, bottle of water, remotes—and clicked on the television when my phone rang. The screen showed “Arbor Rest”.

My hands shook as I answered. It was late. Why would he call so late? Before I could even say hello, I’d thought of myriad ways this could be bad news. I expected a nurse to get on the line to tell me that Neil had somehow harmed himself.

Instead, I heard the best person possible.

“Sophie.” There was an audible hitch in his tone. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear yours, too, baby,” I said, biting my lip to keep from bursting into tears.

“I’ve missed you terribly today,” he said. “I’m sorry that I’m not there to celebrate with you. Happy anniversary.”

He hadn’t forgotten. But he’d certainly taken his time.

“Happy anniversary.” If we couldn’t be physically together for the day, at least we could talk. His calls were few and far between. It hurt, even though I knew the reason for it, now. “How are things going?”

“Remarkably well, as it so happens.” He cleared his throat. “I’m ready.”