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He nodded toward a hallway off the great-room side of the kitchen. “Down there.”
“And does she stay in the living room when you’re ‘down there’?” She mimicked him with a grin.
No response, which she’d expected. The question had been rhetorical. Of course he didn’t keep his baby in other rooms when he was there alone.
With a fancy remote that had a small phone-size keyboard on the back, he was searching for the movie. On his account.
Stood to reason that he already owned it and she’d wasted the three dollars she’d spent. Oh, well.
“You can bring her in here, Flint.” She wasn’t going to be the cause of any child being on the outside of any gathering ever. “I’m not so fragile that I can’t be in the same room as a baby. I fly on a regular basis, and you don’t get to choose who you’re seated by on a plane. I’ll be fine.”
She wasn’t convinced she would be. But at least she knew how to keep up appearances. As long as she didn’t pay attention to the baby, didn’t let Diamond’s presence pull at her. As long as she didn’t even think about picking her up.
Or doing any nurturing in a hands-on way.
“If you’re sure, I’ll bring her in. But only if you’re completely sure that’s what you want. It’s not like she’s going to know the difference. She’s out for at least another hour.”
“Like she didn’t know the difference the night you tried to get her to sleep in the nursery?”
“She’s used to me now. We’re doing much better.” His grin did things to her in inappropriate places. Probably because she was so tense about getting information for her father. And being around a newborn.
She was challenging herself personally and professionally. So it made sense that her emotions would be off-kilter.
And she might’ve been fighting off a flu bug the previous week, too. Her system could be in recuperation mode. Busy rebuilding antibodies.
That thought was total bunk and she knew it. She didn’t have the flu. Hadn’t had it the week before, either. The man was attractive. She noticed. Not a big deal.
“I want you to go get her, please,” she said as he cued up the movie. “Please.”
She wouldn’t be able to focus on her real reason for being there if she was busy feeling bad about being the reason that baby was in the other room all alone. She was a grown woman who could take accountability for her issues, her problems. Diamond Rose was a helpless newborn who had to rely on everyone around her to fill every single one of her needs.
Besides, Tamara needed Flint relaxed if she hoped to get information that could help her father one way or the other. She’d spent most of Saturday going through files and meeting with employees who’d come in on their own time to see her, in addition to the hours with Maria in and out of the office. Her father had told her someone was trading on various computers. He knew which ones, so now she did, too. She’d wanted to find out when they were in use most often, as part of her efficiency check, so she could give her father an idea of when or why they might have been freed up for other uses. She had dates now. Other specifics.
And she was slowly making her way through expense reports and comparing them to the provided receipts, examining dates, times, employee credit card numbers, clients. Looking for...anything in the past year. Flint’s records had come first. She’d finished them very late Friday night.
He’d had a lot of fancy dinners, gone to shows, on cruises, to games, with a lot of important and wealthy people. And every single dime he’d claimed checked out to the penny.
She’d told herself not to let hope grow. She’d learned the hard way that hoping led to greater heartache. Still, she’d wished she could call and tell her father that things were looking good. So far.
But, of course, she couldn’t.
* * *
Just when Tamara was hooked to the point of forgetting almost everything else, a little cough jarred her. Then a tiny wail, followed by another.
She looked at Flint, who was already headed over to the playpen. “She’s got another hour and a half,” he said as though babies watched the clock and knew they were supposed to be hungry at certain times. Focusing on the movie, which he’d paused on the screen—about the young man learning the Wall Street ropes from someone who was at the top of his game, but had gotten there by unethical means—she waited.
“What’s the matter, Little One?” Flint crooned softly. The wails grew louder. He rubbed her arm. Felt her cheek. Continued to talk. Tried to get her to take a pacifier. She continued to cry.
Pick her up. Pick her up.
After a few more tries with the pacifier, he picked her up.
The crying didn’t stop.
For another ten minutes.
He walked with her. Talked to her about her eating schedule, explaining that it wasn’t time yet. He changed her, which only made her angrier.
