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Fuck.
Alone with my… daughter, I finally look down at her. She’s just as confused as I am. Or maybe that’s just the way a baby’s face is supposed to look? Hell if I know.
She tilts her head at me. I’m arrested by how green her eyes are—how identical to mine her gaze is.
The whole thing is awkward as fuck. Parts of my body I didn’t even know I had are clenching and cringing in discomfort.
“Alright. This is fine. This is all cool. This is…”
A disaster in the making.
Maneuvering with Violet in one arm like a sack of potatoes, I pull out my phone with my free hand and message Paula, my assistant.
REESE: Office. Now.
While I wait for her, I sit on the edge of my desk, trying to figure out how to situate Violet. She’s not being particularly helpful as I transition her from potato sack position to a puddle on my lap. What was that thing they say about the head? Right—it needs support. I awkwardly prop her up with my fingers.
It’s like she knows I’m making this shit up as I go, and she’s not afraid to inform me of how bad I’m dropping the ball. Violet’s chubby little face screws up in protest, right on the cusp of a wail.
“No, no,” I hiss, “don’t start that?—”
“Mr. Dalton?”
My office door opens and Paula steps in. She’s one woman I can honestly say I’ve never wanted to fuck. It’s not that she’s ugly—she’s attractive enough. She just doesn’t have that… spark. That thing that says, This human has sex. Dirty, nasty, wonderful sex.
It’s probably a good thing, though. She keeps my personal and professional life intact more often than not. Wouldn’t accomplish that if I spent my time bending her over my desk.
“Hey. I need you to, uh, take care of… this. While I find a nanny.” I hold Violet up, Lion King style.
Paula’s brow raises, but she doesn’t tell me to fuck off like a sensible person would. She just takes Violet, holding her aloft and away from her body, looking every bit as uncomfortable as I’m sure I did.
“Your grandmother is leaving, I assume?”
I nod. “She thinks me and Violet should get acquainted.” I chuckle, sheepish, and run my hand through my hair. “So yeah, listen, I just need you to watch her for a bit. Grams hooked me up with toys and a crib thing and one of those small rocking chairs. And formula. You just follow the directions, right?”
The look Paula gives me would wither a lesser man.
I give her the most dazzling grin I can. “Great. Christmas bonuses will be huge this year, I swear.”
If we make it that long.
5
REESE
How hard is it to find a competent nanny?
It’s been a week since Grams left and shit is going terribly. Normally, I like the attention that fame gives me. But it’s a royal pain in the ass right now. Damn near every woman I selected to interview is a puck bunny thirsting for a shot at the infamous Reese Dalton. That’d be great for my sex life, but I need someone to watch my daughter, not my dick.
God help me. I’m complaining about women wanting me to fuck them silly. Unexpected on my life’s Bingo card.
It would be easy to pick one of them. They have experience, sure. Credentials, recommendations, the whole nine yards. Plus, I’d get a steady supply of ass out of it.
I eye the girl on the screen now. Patricia, her name is. She’s all red hair and milky skin, nice round tits and the kind of hips made to be man-handled.
Then, with a mournful sigh, I drag her file to the trash can.
“Fuckable” isn’t what Violet needs. And while I’m not prepared to be a father, I’m not about to have her neglected by the person who can look after her. She needs the best of what I can find, and a woman more interested in handling my goods rather than handling her duties just ain’t it.
