Corporate Daddy. Arlene JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
up a few interviews with prospective nannies, so you’ll want to bring Amanda Sue into the office with you. I thought that was preferable to doing the interviews here, all things considered. But take your time in the morning. I know how hard it is to get a baby changed, fed, dressed, packed and out of the house. First appointment is at ten.”
“Ten,” he echoed numbly, wondering how in blue blazes he was going to get through this.
“I moved the safety seat to your car earlier while you were putting up the crib,” she said. “Just be sure the restraining belt is clipped before you leave. She’ll fight you, of course, but she won’t win unless you let her.”
He nodded, but he didn’t mean it. He wouldn’t tell her that the curly headed little moppet upstairs had already won the battle of wills between them a dozen times that day. He’d never been so exasperated as when driving her to and from the ranch. It was like trying to travel with a caged tiger, one smarter than him. He’d groveled all he intended to for one day, however. If Emily was determined to go, well, that was that.
When she moved toward the foyer, he almost let her go without another word, but then he thought of all she’d done for them that day and knew he couldn’t. Gritting his teeth, he hurried after her. “Emily.”
She paused and turned, obviously expecting more entreaties. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to thank you for everything.”
She smiled wearily. “No problem. I realize you were desperate. Glad I could help.”
“I still don’t know what half the stuff you bought is for, but I’m sure I’ll need it,” he told her. “I—I just wish I could handle her as well as you do.”
“You’ll learn,” Emily promised. “Now, if you don’t mind, I just want to go home and soak in a hot tub before I fall into bed.”
Logan suddenly found himself assailed by an unexpected vision that left him struggling for composure: Emily, naked and soaking in a tub of bubbles, her long hair piled loosely on top of her head. He shook himself. What was wrong with him? The Emily he’d always known was buttoned down and bunned, totally efficient, all business. He’d never wondered before what her hair looked like down or if she wore stockings or how she might pile up her hair for a bath.
“By the way,” she said briskly, bringing him back to the moment, “you’d better sleep upstairs until you hire a nanny. Otherwise you’re going to be running up and down all night long, and she’s going to work herself into a real temper by the time you get to her. Just thought I’d better mention that. See you tomorrow.”
She walked out the door and closed it behind her. Logan collapsed against the wall, groaning. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d been looking forward to collapsing into his own bed. No doubt about it, his first day of fatherhood had been a day of hell, and now he was reduced to the position of a guest in his own home, while fantasizing about his personal assistant! He couldn’t help wondering if anything about his life would ever be the same again.
Emily heard the wails the instant she got off the elevator. Turning right, she walked swiftly past the reception/clerical area and down the long hall to the spacious corner office suite belonging to the Executive V.P. of Fortune Tx, Ltd. The wails had subsided, which hopefully bode well for her employer’s developing relationship with his newly found daughter—and Emily’s own day.
She pushed through the glass door into the outer office and stowed her things in the corner cabinet. The boss’s door was open, allowing his irritable voice to be clearly heard. “Amanda Sue, no! Don’t bend… Damn!”
Huffs of protest quickly became screams of outrage. Emily took off the jacket of her navy-blue suit and folded it over the back of her chair. Steeling herself for what she might find inside, she strolled into the inner office.
Logan Fortune sat at his desk in jeans and a rumpled T-shirt, a day-old beard darkening his lower face. He wrestled with the little body in his lap, trying desperately to clean ink-stained fingers with a wad of Baby Wipes from an open container on the desk. Papers, some in shreds, others splattered with indigo ink and still others covered with huge scribblings, were scattered across the blotter. Amanda Sue fought him tooth and nail, kicking, twisting, bucking, screaming. To his credit, Logan tried mightily to stay calm while holding her tiny wrists in one hand and dabbing and swiping at her fingertips with the other.
“Amanda Sue, please. Just let me clean your fingers. Be still just a minute, baby. If I let go you’ll get ink on your pretty face. You don’t want ink on your pretty face, do you? Amanda Sue, for pity’s sake!”
“Rough morning?” Emily asked.
Both Logan and Amanda Sue froze. Logan’s head snapped up. “Emily!” The relief in his voice was both touching and disturbing.
“Mimy!” Amanda Sue cried, struggling upright. Logan quickly took advantage of her momentary calm to finish cleaning her fingers. The pale stains that remained would eventually wear off without transferring noticeable traces to other objects. Quickly, Emily moved across the room and around the desk.
“Did she just say my name?”
“Believe me, it’s not the first time,” he confirmed. The instant he let go of the child’s wrists, she reached for Emily, who hoisted her into her arms, heartstrings singing. The baby was dressed only in a red T-shirt, lopsided diaper and pink socks.
“At first I thought she was asking for her you-know-who,” Logan said. “Then I realized she was asking for you.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “I guess I don’t do things as well as you do. I don’t rock as well. I don’t do breakfast as well. I sure don’t diaper as well.” He sighed and laid his head back against his chair. “We’ve been up since 4:00 a.m.”
“And in all that time you didn’t get a chance to shave—”
“Or shower,” he finished for her. “Or eat or brush my teeth or anything else except cover my butt with the first thing that came to hand.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “At least we have that much in common, my daughter and I.”
Emily laughed. She couldn’t help it. Amanda Sue, meanwhile, was bending herself into a pretzel trying to reach the papers on the desk.
“Someone’s been drawing pictures,” Emily said, dipping down so Amanda Sue could snag one. The child immediately crumpled one corner of the paper in her fist and carried it to her mouth. “Don’t eat it, sweetheart. Let Emily see it.” She gently pulled the paper from the baby’s hand and shook it out. It contained nothing but wiggly, curving lines and one small rip. It was, nevertheless, a treasure. She handed it to Logan, while speaking to Amanda Sue. “Did you draw a picture for Daddy? How sweet. Daddy’s first picture from Amanda Sue.”
Logan looked at the scribblings and chuckled. “I had no idea she even knew what to do when I pulled out the paper and pens. I was just desperate to keep her happy for a little while. But she sat right down and got busy. She even holds the pen pretty well, considering her fingers are about an inch and a half long.”
Emily smiled, wondering if he knew that he was beginning to sound like a proud papa. “You should tuck that away somewhere for safekeeping,” she advised. He continued to stare at the scribbles a moment longer, then opened a drawer and dropped the paper inside. When he looked up, she knew he wasn’t even going to mention the “picture” again.
“I brought as many of her things as I could grab. Would you mind dressing her? She puts up a terrific fight when I try.”
Emily nodded. “Why don’t you run home and change? If you hurry you can be back before the first nanny applicant arrives.”
He didn’t argue, just pushed back his chair and got up. Emily hid a smile when she saw that he’d put on his athletic shoes without socks and hadn’t even tied the laces. “I won’t be long,” he said, heading for the door.
“Oh, by the way,” she called, following him. He paused,