Page 9

9

ANDI

Luckily, Ford finds a nanny quickly.

I guess when you’re desperate you can make things happen.

Also, he has money, which probably helps.

So I only have to help out with Matilda for a few days.

I admit that I’m nervous around her.

I don’t know what her sounds mean.

I don’t know what the crying means.

I don’t know what to do with her.

She is kind of cute, though.

Those intelligent eyes just like Ford’s watch my every move.

When she tries to talk, her little mouth forms into the cutest shapes and it’s adorable.

And when she smiles…

oh dear God, that melts my insides into slush.

Her smiles are getting more frequent, especially with Ford, but also with me.

When I hand her a toy and her eyes light up and she beams a smile and reaches for it with both hands, I get weird sensations in my chest.

But there are times I’m frustrated and her cuteness doesn’t help.

The day training camp starts, I obviously have to look after her.

Ford can’t miss that.

He’s skipped taekwondo classes, workouts, meditations, and has started carrying Matilda around in a baby sling on his chest so he can get his cleaning done.

But I have a virtual meeting today so this could be tricky.

I bring her to my apartment so I can hold my meeting.

She’s really good and happy as I play with her, although I’m anxiously checking the clock, watching the time pass.

I have to get her to sleep before my meeting starts.

So even though she’s still bright-eyed and energetic, I try rocking her to sleep then laying her in her bed.

Her eyes close and she’s quiet.

Yay!

Just in time for my meeting.

But as I present to my clients, she starts wailing.

I have the baby monitor on, so the sound is loud.

Crap.

I see the startled looks on my clients’ faces.

I don’t know what to do.

I can’t mute myself because I’m the one presenting.

I reach over and turn off the baby monitor.

I can still hear Matilda in the other room, but I’m not sure if others can.

I continue talking, but fuck!

I can’t concentrate with the baby crying like that.

Maybe she’s dying!

“I’m so sorry,” I say with as much apology in my tone as I can muster.

“Can we break for just a moment? I have something I need to attend to.”

They agree and I mute and jump up to run to the living room where Matilda’s in her little bed.

She lifts her arms to me pleadingly, her face contorted.

What can I do but pick her up?

“What do you need, sweetheart?” I gather her into my arms, only slightly more comfortable holding her than I was a few days ago.

“Are you hungry? Wet?” I feel her little padded butt.

The diaper seems dry.

I’ll try a bottle, but dammit, I need to get back to my meeting.

Maybe I can feed her with my camera off?

That’s really going to impress a client.

Shit.

I thought I could handle this today.

I make a bottle of formula as quickly as I can then carry Matilda back to the office.

She grabs the bottle with both hands and eagerly chows down.

As I approach my computer, I realize I left my camera on…

and I’m not wearing pants.

I was running out of time before the meeting, so I just grabbed a suit jacket and threw it on over my T-shirt.

They must have had quite the view when I ran out of my office.

Fire climbs from my chest up into my face as I quickly take my seat, turn off the camera and turn on the mic.

“I’m so sorry. I’m helping out a friend today and this little one isn’t cooperating.” I laugh lightly.

“I’ll just keep my camera off while we talk for now. So back to where we were.” Where were we?

I fumble with one hand for my notes.

Okay.

“Pay-per-click advertising lets us reach audiences on news and other websites and digital platforms through paid ads. We can set up PPC campaigns on Google, Bing, LinkedIn, X, Pinterest, and Facebook. These campaigns segment users based on their demographics or their particular interests or location, which is hugely powerful.”

“Which platforms would you recommend for us?” Joe Edison asks.

“Definitely Google and Facebook,” I reply, and launch into more details about click-through rates, conversion rates, and social media traffic.

Meanwhile, Matilda is happily sucking down her formula and I’m relaxing a little.

When she finishes, I manage to sit her up on my lap and pat her back as I talk.

I’m pretty proud of myself…

until she lets out the biggest belch I’ve ever heard from her.

Right in the middle of a pause in my presentation.

Luckily they can’t see my face, but I can see theirs.

Joe looks startled, and Hugo bursts out laughing.

I guess laughter is good?

“I am so sorry,” I say again.

I can’t help thinking how proud of her Ford would be.

He’s unreasonably obsessed with her bodily noises.

I almost want to laugh, but I rein it in.

“Let’s move on!”

Somehow, we get through the rest of the meeting and as I end it, I can only hope that the unprofessional interruptions don’t lose me this client.

I blow out a breath and look at Matilda, who is holding a toy to her mouth and sucking on both it and her fingers.

She gazes back at me placidly.

“You better not have cost me that job.” But I say it in a gentle tone so she knows I don’t mean it.

I mean, she probably doesn’t understand, but I don’t want her to think I’m really angry at her.

I may be a little frustrated.

I stand.

“I hope your dad is killing it at training camp.” I carry her to the living room.

“Today is medicals. I remember spring training for Trevor. You don’t know him. He’s my ex. He’s a…” I pause, mindful of language.

“He’s a jerk.” I remember how important training camp is.

It’s when players compete for places on the roster.

I remember all the time Trevor spent working out—weightlifting, agility drills, core-strengthening, not to mention the on-field training—and I remember all the disappointing years he was assigned to extended spring training because he wasn’t ready for a full season in the majors or the minors.

I don’t think the NHL is like that and I don’t think Ford is at risk of not making the team, but I know he wants to do well.

“Hopefully your dad…” I pause.

Ford is her dad.

We may have been doubtful, but he already got the results from the DNA test he did.

The results were 99.

999 percent certain that he’s Matilda’s father.

“Hopefully your dad is passing with flying colors. When are you going to sleep? I have work to do, Tilly.” I’ve started shortening her name.

Ford doesn’t like it.

I think it’s cute.

The new nanny starts Monday, so after tomorrow I’m in the clear.

I just have to make it through one more day, entertaining a baby with toys and goofy games and changing diapers.

I can handle this.

“I fired her.”

I gape at Ford.

“What?”

It’s a week later.

I just got back from volunteering at Bright Side Animal Shelter.

I had to miss a couple of days I was supposed to go in because of looking after Tilly, and I was happy to be there today with the animals.

I love animals, especially dogs.

There’s a new guy, a lab mix named Draco, who I took for a walk today.

He’s so sweet.

I’ve been blessedly baby free as the nanny cared for Matilda while Ford was at training camp, even in the evenings when he had exhibition games.

Hanna’s been very flexible and accommodating, thank goodness.

I met her briefly one day and she seemed nice and has a lot of experience with babies, although she is very young.

I got a little uneasy at the way she looked at Ford, but I shook that off.

Ford and I are just friends, so I don’t know why I felt weirded out.

Now he’s fired her.

“Why?” I demand.

“She wasn’t working out. She wasn’t adhering to the schedule I came up with for Matilda.”

Yes, it wasn’t long before Ford had a strict schedule for the baby.

And I know babies do need routine and stability, but he got so upset when she wouldn’t go to sleep at the time he thought she should, or wasn’t hungry when he wanted to feed her.

I don’t know how realistic his schedule was or how he came up with it.

“Oh. But is that really that important?”

“Of course it is! Also… she…” He stops.

“What?”

He looks away and rubs the back of neck, his face etched with discomfort.

“I caught her snooping in my bedroom.”

“What!” My mouth drops open.

“Yeah.” His sigh could knock over a Zamboni.

“She’s a big hockey fan. Like, a crazy fan.”

“No!”

“Yeah. I was worried that she wasn’t really looking out for Matilda. She was just trying to steal my underwear.”

“Jesus!” I know I’m swearing in front of the baby, but I can’t help it.

“That’s insane!”

“I know. Fuck.”

Our eyes meet.

We both make a “yikes” face and shrug.

“This kid’s gonna have a mouth like a sailor,” Ford says.

I wave my hands.

“You have time to get used to it and adjust your habits before she starts talking.” When do babies start talking, anyway?

I need to do some research.

Or not.

She’s not my baby.

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

“I’ve talked to a few others from the agency.” He shakes his head.

“None of them sound any better.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Nobody?”

He shrugs.

“Nobody is good enough to look after your baby girl.”

He shrugs again.

To be honest…

that’s kind of hot.

No.

I mean, I like it.

He didn’t want this.

But…

it seems like he does care about his baby.

“Does that include me?” Oh, shit.

Why did I ask that?

I’m not going to help.

I can’t .

He blinks at me, lips parting.

“No. Of course not.”

Well.

I’m glad he trusts me.

Although I’m probably the least qualified person.

I open my mouth, then snap it shut.

We stare at each other, the air thickening around us.

“Help me, Andi,” he eventually says, his voice low and rough.

Shit.

I know how hard it is for him to ask for help.

Not that he often needs it.

But…

he’s always been there to help me.

I turn and walk away from him in his condo, over to the window overlooking the street.

I can’t do this.

I just can’t.

This business is everything to me.

After losing my husband, my work friend, and my job…

this is all I have left.

I have to be a success at this.

How can I do that and look after a baby?

We’ve already had one Zoom fail.

I can’t keep doing that.

Thoughts roll through my head.

I hate seeing Ford so dejected.

He cares about that baby and obviously wants her to be safe and looked after.

But he’s also dedicated to his career.

I get that, too.

This season is important to him in breaking out as the team’s number one goalie.

He’s clearly conflicted about those two competing interests.

He’s always been there for me—after my marriage ended, he made sure I was eating and not drowning my sorrows in boxed wine and popcorn, making sure I got dressed some days by taking me out for lunch, and making me laugh with proposals like Let’s play carpenter.

First we’ll get hammered, then I’ll nail you .

He helped me with so many things—repairs around the condo, killing spiders, watching movies with me when I didn’t want to be alone.

I feel an unreasonable obligation to him.

Maybe it’s not unreasonable.

We’re friends.

That’s what friends do, right?

Help each other.

Support each other.

Make each other laugh.

Maybe I’m not being a good enough friend to him.

It’s about give and take, right?

Yes, I’m busy.

Yes, my new business is important to me.

And yes, it’s important to me to succeed.

But Ford’s important, too.

And okay…

so is Matilda, the little scamp.

Think positive.

That’s always my motto.

Like my mom always says, nobody ever damaged their eyesight by looking at the bright side.

I can look after a baby.

It’s natural!

How hard can it be?

I turn to face Ford.

“I’ll help. We’ll get through this together. But we need some rules.”

He smiles.

“I like rules.”