by Nicole Vidal
“What kind of understanding did you come to with a newborn?”
“She agreed to be an easy baby so I can pull off being her dad.”
I smile. “I hope you got that in writing. Either way, I have no doubt you will pull it off with grace.”
“Thank you, Savannah.” He grabs a water. The movement of this throat catches my attention. Never found that attractive before.
“I was on my way into the office. I’ll come back later for those. I understand you’re busy.”
“Thank you, Savannah. I appreciate your help.”
The office is literally four blocks away; it’s not a major inconvenience.
“It’s no problem. I’ll see you later.” I hurry around him, recalling the elevator car. As the doors close, I lean against the wall of the car and exhale sharply. As I exit, no questions come my way.
Waking my computer at the office, my brain flashes back to shirtless, sweaty Sam. Dear God, his chest is flawless. While his body is impeccable, it’s his dimples that hooked me. I push the memory away. He has made his position clear. He doesn’t want to date me right now. His focus is his daughter.
“Morgan Insurance. How may I direct your call?” I answer as the phone drags me out of my thoughts.
“Good morning, this is Billie Morgan. Is Sam available?”
“Hi, Billie. It’s Savannah. He’s working from home today. Would you like me to give him a message?”
“Hi, Savannah. How are you?”
“I’m well and you?”
“Peter and I are amid wedding planning. It’s coming up fast. Will you be accompanying Sam?”
“He hasn’t asked me to accompany him, Billie.” I would love to attend, but with his self-imposed dating moratorium, I highly doubt that’s a possibility anymore.
“I thought you two were dating. That was you at the jazz club in the photo, right?”
As did I. That night was simply magical.
“Yes, it was me. He asked for space when he learned about Marisol and her baby.”
“I see. My brother is back to putting everyone before himself without regard for his personal happiness.”
“It would appear so. It’s okay, Billie. I imagine he’s in an awkward position right now. I was upfront with him. If he wants me, he knows where to find me.”
“I’m sorry, Savannah. I thought he finally saw what was right in front of him. You’re smart, funny, don’t take his crap, and you’re gorgeous.”
I don’t know about all that, but I’ll take the compliment from his sister either way. “Thank you, Billie. I’ll let him know you called.”
“No need. I’ll call his cell. Bye, Savannah.”
I hope she doesn’t make this worse. Sam needs to realize he wants me even though he’s a father now. He doesn’t realize it yet, but he’ll need some help if his daughter breaks the deal brokered in the hospital nursery incredibly early this morning, despite his belief it’s a binding agreement.
I spend the next few hours handling my work and Sam’s. I sit in his chair and wake his computer to check for the online inquiries. Immediately I forward them to my desk and get them started.
A few hours later, I bundle today’s files and stroll back to Sam’s. A different group of paparazzi are there to greet me. I ignore them too. I’m floored by the condition of Sam’s home when I step off the elevator. The entrance and living room are filled with boxes, packages, and shopping bags. Did he buy half of Manhattan? I set down my stuff, shuck my shoes, and search for Sam.
If I thought the packages were a shot to my heart, Sam shirtless on a fluffy white area rug, staring at what appears to be instructions surrounded by the parts of a crib. For all that is holy, hot, single dad-to-be doesn’t begin to cover it.
Chapter 15
Samson
In less than a day, I’ll be solely responsible for a tiny human. After Savannah left this morning, I ordered everything my daughter could possibly need. Certainly I have purchased way too much, but I would rather have it and not use it than need it and not have it. After a whirlwind of shopping, I went to the hospital to spend time with her. She’s extraordinary. She’s a fighter.
After returning, I haul the stuff into the living room I purchased to decorate her nursery and fill her closet. Well, I have all the pieces scattered around my home. I have been working on assembling this crib for the last hour, and I haven’t made much progress. I hear my door open and know that she’s here. Savannah. I can’t believe it’s already the end of the day. I don’t have much time to finish this.
To protect my privacy and my daughter, Ms. Torcher agreed to meet with me extremely late this evening to transfer custody to me. I need to finish this and clean up.
“Hi. Thank you for coming back.”
“Of course. Would you prefer help with that or something to eat?”
“I need to get this done before I have to go to the hospital.”
“No problem. I’m pretty handy.” Even after working all day in the office, she looks beautiful. “Do you have shorts I can use? Building a crib in this skirt isn’t going to work.”
She’s absolutely right. The fitted pencil skirt hugs her hips perfectly. My attraction to her has never been an issue. I’m also sure she doesn’t care about my wealth. She’s secure in who she is and doesn’t need me to fix anything for her. The fact that she takes care of herself, Scarlett, and her tuition is sexy as hell. I can’t allow her to feel less important than she is to me. Yet pushing her away isn’t the right answer either.
“Sure, I’ll be right back.” I rise from the floor, hoping to discreetly mask her effect on me. That small smile and lip pulled between her teeth tells me I failed miserably. I can conjure up thoughts to decrease my arousal, but it won’t matter. The moment she and I are in the same room again, my efforts will be a waste.
When I return to my daughter’s nursery, I find Savannah jacketless, reorganizing the pieces on the floor and sorting the hardware. Like I said, painfully aroused yet again. Damn she’s gorgeous!
“Here you go,” I say, reaching the shorts in her direction purposefully in front of me. Her hand grazes mine as she takes the shorts. The warmth of her touch is too much. Grabbing her wrist, I draw her against me. She inhales sharply, unsure of what I will do next. Like every time before, her flush against me is perfection. Looking down into her eyes, I see it. Her feelings screaming at me. Impossible to miss. I’m sure mine are as well. I want her. “Cara mia.”
“Samson.” My name falling from her lips makes my heart pound harder.
“I want you.” That is an understatement of epic proportions.
“I want you, but you don’t believe you can handle me and your daughter.”
“You deserve all of me. I can’t give it to you while embarking on fatherhood alone. You deserve romantic dates, flowers, and most importantly, my undivided attention.”
“Don’t do it alone. I understand that you feel like it would be using me, I don’t. She’s part of you. It won’t be easy to do both, I know it won’t, but that doesn’t diminish my feelings for you. I want to see what we could have together.”
Before I can answer, Jimmy calls up from the lobby.
“Yes, Jimmy. Ms. Torcher is here. She says it’s urgent.”
“Thank you, please send her up.” I snatch my shirt from the floor and tug it over my head. Concern rockets through me. Savannah is close behind me, pulling her jacket back on.
As the door opens, my eyes pin to the tiny pink bundle in the carrier. We agreed to meet later.
“Mr. Morgan, I apologize for the departure from our plans. However hospital policy states that babies leave the nursery once cleared to do so.” Pamela sets my daughter on the island and begins to remove the harness.
“May I?”
“Of course.”
With shaky hands, I unclasp the buckles, lift her, and tuck her against me. Savannah ushers a bit closer, her fingers grazing mine in a show of support. I glance down at her and nod tightly.
/> “There are two forms to fill out.” Ms. Torcher sets them on the island and offers me a pen. I shift my daughter to the other side to take the pen in my left hand.
“This is the discharge paperwork from the hospital.” She points at the bottom, and I scribble my name. “This is her birth certificate. Please review it, fill out her name, and then sign.”
I have been considering options since I took the test. I fill in her name, Emerson Sarah Morgan, verify the remaining information, and sign at the bottom.
“Congratulations, Mr. Morgan.”
“Thank you. When did she eat last?”
“Here is her chart from today. Shelley sent along well wishes and added her number in case you have questions. Kyla as well.”
“Thank you for your assistance and discretion. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Have a nice evening.”
Once the door closes, I lean against the island holding Emerson. The fear is less, but not by much. Savannah is standing beside me, her eyes cast down at my daughter.
“Sam, she’s gorgeous.”
She is. I have spent my time with her examining her perfect fingers and toes. I’m amazed.
“Thank you.”
“What do you want to do now? I gather this wasn’t the plan.”
“No, I want to call my siblings. Then I need to finish her crib, so she has somewhere to sleep tonight.”
“I’ll make something to eat while you call them. Then we can tackle the crib.”
“Thank you.”
“Are these organized in any way?” She points toward the packages strewn in my living room.
“No, why?”
“Just wondering. Go, I’m sure the Morgan clan is dying to meet her.”
I press my lips to her forehead and linger longer than I should. In a matter of hours, it’ll be me and Emme. I have no right to ask Savannah to stay. Yet I want her here with me, with us. It’s unfair to even ask.
“I….” Clueless as to what to say next, I turn toward my office. This is a mess. I want Savannah. We have been interrupted every time with get close to choosing one another. Close to me choosing her and my daughter.
The mixture of joy and terror isn’t a pair of emotions I thought would mesh. Yet, here I am feeling both at the same time—joy that I have this perfect little girl, terror that I will fail her, that I don’t have what it takes to be her father.
Me: Ready to meet your niece?
Cash: Logging on now!
Billie: OMG! So excited.
Auggie: Give me two minutes to get into my office.
One by one, my siblings and their significant others join the call, all their voices fighting for supremacy through the speakers. Well wishes, statements of joy, and literal gawking at Emerson ensue. As if she senses my unease, she starts to squirm and cry in my arms.
“I need to feed her and finish her crib. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you bunches.” I close the screen and return to the kitchen. I’m floored not only by how much work Savannah has completed in the brief time I was talking with my family but also her in my shorts and a tank top she had under her blouse. True, the shorts are too big, but the tank molds to her frame, displaying her full breasts. I’m screwed.
She sorted and organized many of the items. The assembled pack and play is near the island, along with the changing area attachment. The carrier is open and ready for installation in my car. A few outfits are neatly folded. The far counter in the kitchen is set up with a drying rack, bottles, and formula.
“You didn’t have to do all of this.” Emme cries in my arms.
“I know, but she needs you to know where everything is. Once the crib is together, you can set up the rest of her nursery tomorrow. I’m sure there is one, but I couldn’t find a monitor.”
“There is. Where? No idea.” I set her on the changing area and attempt to change her diaper.
“Do you know how to do that?”
“I haven’t changed a diaper since boarding school when Suzette and I were parents of a doll for a long holiday weekend. That was comedy at its finest. Maria-Luisa was watching us like hawks as we slept in the living room with our baby. I need to call her.” Once I have the wet diaper away from her skin, Emme is back to quiet instead of crying. I set the dry one beneath her and successfully fasten it at her sides. “Why is the stripe yellow?”
“The stripe is yellow if the diaper is dry. Blue means she’s wet and needs to be changed.”
“Helpful. Although her cries kind of make that useless.”
Savannah giggles. It’s a sweet sound. “The food is ready if you want to eat before she needs to.”
“Sure.”
Savannah sets the plates on the table and starts to sit. As I fumble holding Emme in one hand and my fork in the other, she stands and reaches out for my little girl.
“May I?”
I give her a short nod. She scoops her from my arms. In a few steps, sets her down in the swing thing I bought, and buckles her in. I didn’t even notice she put that together too. Sitting back down, she starts to eat. Although it’s delicious, I shovel the food into my mouth. I don’t recall eating anything since after my workout this morning.
“Slow down, Sam. There’s plenty.”
“I haven’t eaten since this morning. It’s exceptionally good.”
She nods and finishes her plate.
After eating we assemble the crib with relative ease. It’s much easier to pull off with her help. Savannah shows me how to swaddle Emme and set her on the positioner in her crib after I feed her. I use a plain white sheet for tonight since her bedding is in the wash. Quietly, we set up much of her nursery while she sleeps. So many times, I think I can share my feelings with Savannah, each time I fail. Near ten Savannah leaves for the night.
As much as I want her to stay, I realize she has drawn a line—a line that delineates she’s simply my employee and friend despite our feelings for one another. That line exists because of me. It’s up to me to make it disappear.
Chapter 16
Savannah
As if Sam wasn’t perfect on his own. I don’t mean perfect as in flawless. Everyone has flaws, except Emerson. She’s simply angelic. I couldn’t sit around while he was sharing his daughter with his family. He has made his position clear. His focus is Emme. While I understand he’s overwhelmed and his belief—incorrect as it may be—that he can’t handle both, we aren’t a couple, which is precisely why I’m crawling into my cold bed alone. Not even Gray joins me tonight.
Sam: Are you still awake?
I consider whether to answer. I decide against answering now. My heart can’t take it.
Sam: I can’t thank you enough for your help both at the office and here.
Sam: I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, cara mia.
After a restless night’s sleep and zigzagging around photogs, I arrive at the office. I didn’t even stop by Sam’s this morning. I figure he hasn’t had time to sign those files. Clearing my inbox and his, I get to work. Midday I text Scar.
Me: How are things going? Classes? Do you need anything for the move?
Scarlett: Good. Classes are the same. No, I don’t think so. LY.
I have another stack of files, so I leave the office and walk to Sam’s. This time and going forward, I walk a block further and use the side entrance into the garage.
Quietly, I set the files on the side table and remove my shoes. Aside from the relief it provides my arches, the noise might wake up Emme. I note that the living area is empty of boxes save for a small pile in one corner. Either he bought duplicates or determined he bought too much. The latter is most likely. I search for Sam. He isn’t in his office, the living room, or the nursery.
The nursery is complete with pristine white furniture fit for a princess. The linens Sam chose are white with large pink peonies. The accent color is a light flax. It’s feminine but not overly so. The fluffy white area rug is a nice touch, along with the small chair in the corner. The only thing left to do
is hang the curtains.
Is there another room I missed? I pass three other guest rooms. I continue my search until I’m at the threshold of the only remaining possibility, the master bedroom.
I peek inside. Sam is sound asleep on a leather couch with Emme curled against his bare chest. My ovaries exploded. My heart squeezes in my chest, not only for him, but for her too. She doesn’t know it, but she hit the dad lottery. I’m not surprised. Sam gives everything his full attention. Sighing softly, I pad back to the kitchen.
After leaving a note on the stack of files, I ride to the garage. As I step out and turn right to exit the building, I ponder what to do with the rest of my day.
“Miss Clemons?” a deep voice behind me calls. A fit, older man is approaching the doors.
“Mr. Morgan. A pleasure to see you again.”
Strained is the best way to describe Sam’s relationship with his parents, especially with his mother.
“Is Samson home?”
“Yes. Have a wonderful visit.” I attempt to turn to leave, but he touches my arm to stop me.
“Savannah, I realize you don’t know me well nor do I have the greatest relationship with my children. I’m working to remedy that. However, I know without a doubt that my son cares for you deeply. I saw it at the gala. His daughter’s arrival and my wife’s role in the cover-up threw him. Please give him some time. Eventually, he’ll get out of his own way.”
“Have a wonderful visit with your son and granddaughter, Mr. Morgan.” I turn to leave. This time he doesn’t stop me. Wallowing in my emotions, I almost miss my stop on the subway. Thankfully, my stoop is clear of loiterers with cameras. I strip out of my work attire and pull on yoga pants, a tank top, and a thin open-back sweatshirt. Piling my hair on top of my head, I search through my menus.
After placing my order, I realize I ordered way too much. Huge order for one person. Well done, Savi. I throw in a load of laundry and flip through the local paper, looking for something to do this weekend since Scar doesn’t need my help. Before I finish, my doorbell rings. It’s too soon for the food; plus they don’t have access to the foyer.
