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This was sounding more complicated by the minute.
“I’ve never taken care of a newborn.”
“Why, she’s not a newborn. She’s eight whole months now, aren’t you, dandelion?” Bess reached down to tug on Lily’s wiggling purple-socked feet. More purple. “She’s not a fussy one either. Snug got damn lucky. She’s basically an angel. Other than her diaper situation.” She winked at me and I let out a weak laugh, lurching forward as Latte decided to chase a butterfly.
And I really thought I was capable of taking care of a baby? This dog was a handful.
“Are you an only child?” Bess asked before I had a chance to say anything.
If I even had a reply.
I was starting to feel like a mute, my few words retreating into the lockbox in my head. Bess was the kind of forceful person who made me reel back and evaluate. I knew how to stand my ground, but at first, I seemed like a pushover.
Wrong.
“No,” I said after a moment. “I have two younger sisters. Twins.”
Bess’s eyes gleamed. “How much younger?”
“They’re nineteen and away at college. Bess, I’m really not certain I—”
“Do you have a criminal past?”
“Huh? Of course not.”
“Are you apt to ignore a crawling baby? Because this one is starting to scoot around pretty good.”
Latte stopped dead on the sidewalk a few feet ahead of me and I came to a halt right behind him.
“Nope, you’re paying attention. So, I have no fear you’d let my great-granddaughter get into mischief.”
“Um, thanks. But I still don’t know if I want the job. I didn’t even interview for it.”
“What do you think this is?” she demanded, making me blink.
“You aren’t the one responsible for hiring for the position, are you?”
“Not officially, but if Snug can’t get things done, then someone else has to. He’ll drag his feet on this until Lily’s in college if I let him.”
“Isn’t she his baby? That’s up for him to decide, I’d say.”
Bess stopped pushing the stroller and cocked her hip, her gaze penetrating mine. For a second, I was sure I’d finally driven her back with the pointy tip of my verbal sword.
“You’ve got fire. I like you. A lot. What are your salary requirements? We’ll meet them.”
So much for driving her back. Looked like I’d need a cavalry for that.
“I don’t have salary requirements. I’m just walking this dog. Latte,” I called out in exasperation as he headed for a small family coming toward us on the walkway, their young son in front. Then he leaped in the air just high enough to snag the string of the kid’s balloon.
The kid was not amused. He started to bawl.
“Hang on just a second. I’ll get your balloon back for you. Latte, come here.” I wrangled the dog into submission, gently prying his mouth open until I could fish out the balloon’s string.
While I performed this operation, Lily banged her hands on the stroller behind us. Bess murmured soothing words, yet Lily would not be deterred. Soon, she started to cry too, just like the kid.
Yay.
She quieted the moment I freed the balloon from between Latte’s teeth. Then she stuck out her hand and made a distressed sound that any woman could recognize—although we usually made that noise at the sight of hot shoes, not balloons, but same difference.
