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Whatever Frank wanted, he could go ask someone else.
I was tapped out.
I had no more fucks to give.
“You okay, Claudia?”
Rounding on the big guy, I snapped, “Do I look okay?”
“Um...”
“Go away, Frank.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Because I told Bailey I would help.”
“Great!” I snarked, handing him my crying baby. “You can figure out what’s wrong with him. I need a fucking drink.”
Marching off toward my kitchen, I threw open my refrigerator door. Eyeing my single serve bottles of wine, I figured why not and grabbed a bottle.
What?
They were right next to the baby bottles.
Easy access.
Charlie got his and I got mine.
Popping the cap off, I was just about to guzzle it when reality slapped me in the face with a dirty diaper.
Damn it! I was pregnant. I couldn’t drink.
Well, shit.
Putting my wine back in the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of water instead when something sounded off.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
What. The. Fuck?
Storming back into the living room, I stopped dead in my tracks to find Frank smiling at a cooing Charlie, who smiled lovingly up at the big man.
You’ve got to be kidding me!
Placing my bottle of water on the coffee table, I walked over to him and asked, “What in the hell did you do?”
“Nothing,” Frank whispered as Charlie yawned. “Guess the little man likes me.”
I huffed.
Glad he liked someone, ‘cause I was about to return him to the place I found him.
Hey, I was still within my thirty-day return policy!
