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This was sticky territory. If I explained why I couldn’t afford a nanny, I’d have to tell him about my contractor’s salary. And that would be a slippery slope to the whole truth about Liam and my résumé.
“All right. If you want to handle it on your own, I won’t interfere. Just know that I’ll do what I can to help.”
“Why?”
Joey made little sounds of discontent, so he lifted her to his shoulder and gently patted her back.
“Why?” he repeated.
“Why do you want to help me, Elliot?”
He cocked his head. “I would think it’s obvious, Catherine.”
I waited with bated breath for him to continue because it certainly wasn’t obvious to me.
He finally went on. “You’ve managed to make yourself vital to me. I want you back at work as soon as your leave is over, and I’d rather you not be worried about Josephine all day. If I can do anything to ease that path, I will.”
Ah, there it was. That made perfect sense.
And yet, I felt oddly disappointed by his answer for reasons I didn’t care to closely examine.
“I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He tipped his chin at my plate. “Eat up. Your daughter is trying to find milk on my shoulder, and I suspect she will soon run out of patience when she discovers the well is dry.”
He was letting me out of this conversation for now, but I knew it wasn’t over. He had more questions for me that I would have to answer.
But that was later. For now, I had a plate full of delicious Thai food to finish.
Chapter Seventeen
Elliot
Catherineappearedintheliving room, swinging a baby monitor from her index finger. I’d been doing work on my laptop, waiting for her to show, though I hadn’t been certain she would.
I clicked my computer shut and set it beside me. “She’s asleep?”
“Like a baby.”
She handed me the monitor and plopped down on the opposite side of the couch from me, tucking her legs beneath her.
The screen showed Jo swaddled in her bassinet, her head turned to the side, lips pursed like she was dreaming about milk. She probably was. Milk and her mom were all she knew. A simple, perfect little world.
“Do you spend a lot of time staring at this?” I asked, placing the monitor between us.
“Probably too much.” She wrinkled her nose. “When I brought her home, I had the bassinet right beside my bed, but every little noise she made had me popping up to check on her. I’m a bad sleeper as it is, but Ireallycouldn’t get any rest like that. My solution was to move her to the far side of my bedroom and set up the monitor.”
“Did it help?”
She shrugged. “A little. I’m still a shit sleeper, but I’ve always been like that.”
“Why are you a shit sleeper?”
“Don’t know. My dad used to say my mind was a dervish, always whipping up trouble.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
Her mouth curved. “Well, you didn’t know younger me. I was a major troublemaker.”
