I pry myself from bed, go to the front door, and look through the peephole. It’s Lara from work. I have no clue why she’s here on her lunch break.
I open the door a few inches so she knows not to come in. “Hey, what’s up?” I say, faking a scratchy throat.
Lara looks like her usual cute self with her blonde hair up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a purple Grape Ranch cardigan and those snug khakis that show off her cute round ass. Not that I stare at it when we’re at work, because that’s what creepy assholes do, but it’s hard not to notice the nice shape when she’s walking away.
“I brought you soup, some chamomile tea, and lemon drops.” She holds up a grocery bag.
“Wow. That’s so nice.”
“I can set you up if you want?”
Meaning, she wants to come in and play nurse.
“Naw. I’m good. Wouldn’t want you to catch anything. This was really thoughtful, though.” I take the bag from her hand and slide it through the narrow opening.
“What’s that all over the front of your shirt?” She makes a sour face.
I look down at Fia’s handiwork. Baby puke. “Oh, uh, I spilled some cream of chicken down my shirt. Had an early lunch. But I’ll be sure to enjoy this soup for dinner.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you some tea or—”
A piercing cry explodes from inside my room.
“Is that a baby?” Lara asks.
I flick my thumb over my shoulder. “TV. I have the volume too loud. I’ll see you back at work—”
“Dean, that is not a TV. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Bullshit. You’re hiding something.” She pushes past me, following the sound.
“Wait. This is my place. You can’t just barge…” My voice trails off. It’s too late. Lara’s in my bedroom, pointing down at the baby.
“TV, huh?” Lara’s brown eyes narrow.
“Oh. That baby. I can explain.”
“Ohmygoodness, what a pair of lungs.” Lara tries to comfort a crying Fia by gently bouncing her. “I’m guessing she just has a little gas. Moving her around a little should help.”
The little toot sound from her butt confirms it. The baby’s butt, of course. Would be weird if Lara was just standing around my room passing gas.
“Wow. You really seem to know what you’re doing,” I say as I watch Fia settle right down like nothing happened.
“I babysat in high school a lot,” she explains. “So when’s your sister coming back?”
Yes, I told her the sister lie.
I shrug. “She said by Sunday.”
“And she just dumped her baby on you?”
“She’s my niece. I have to help.”
“So why did you lie to me?” Lara arches a light brown brow.
“Technically, I didn’t lie to you. I was leaving a message for Hector. And I wasn’t in the mood to explain every complicated detail about my family’s drama.”
“Technically, you lied to me twice. Once on the phone and just now when you said it was the TV making that noise. Why lie? And don’t use Hector as an excuse. We both know when it comes to compassion, he’s a saint. There was no reason to call in sick when he would give you time off to help your family. So if you’re not telling people the truth, there’s a reason.”
Yep, Lara is smart. And beautiful with blonde hair that sometimes looks golden in the light. Other times, the color comes off as a soft caramel. She’s also older than me by a few years. Totally has her act together, too—college degree in business, a good-paying job, plans to run her own winery someday. For now, she’s officially Hector’s admin, but in such a small operation, that job title comes with five other hats, which is why Lara took the position. She’s learning the operation. What I’m getting at is, she’s too intelligent to buy my stupid story. But also, if someone can give me advice, it’s her.
I clear my throat and gesture at the wiggly bundle in Lara’s arms. “She’s mine. I think.”
Lara’s face turns ghost white. “Sorry?”
“Her mother dropped her off when I wasn’t home and left a note, saying she’s my daughter. She asked me to take care of Fia for the week.”
“Did you know about her?” Lara sits on my bed, still holding Fia just as naturally as ever. I’m impressed.
“No. I met her mom last year. I was at a bar, having a rough night, and we…you know.”
“So no condom?” Lara snaps.
“I don’t need your judgment.”
“I’m only trying to establish that this baby could actually be yours.”
“She’s mine for the next six days. After that, who knows?”
“Okay, well.” Lara stands and hands Fia over.
I cradle her in my arms, securing her like a football I don’t want to drop.
She adds, “I hope it all works out for you.” Lara turns to leave. She seems annoyed. Or pissed. I’m not sure why.