Forbidden Desires

by Jenna Hartley

  When I finally right myself and look up, there stands Sam, eyes wide. Shit.

  “I must be so sleep-deprived I’m seeing things.” He walks toward their condo.

  “Sam,” I say sweetly, shooting my best pissed-off look at Enzo for seducing me in the elevator.

  Sam opens the condo door. “Honey, guess who I found while taking out the garbage?”

  We follow him in, and I slip off my shoes. Sure enough, if Sam’s nice jeans and non-stained shirt wasn’t a tip-off, my sister’s full face of makeup and curled hair is.

  She hands me Cecilia. “I just fed her. We’ll be back after dinner. The instructions are on the counter.” She points, and I turn to see a piece of paper on the counter.

  “Beth? We were supposed to be shadowing you guys.” I look at Enzo, who’s turning green.

  “You’re her aunt, you wouldn’t do anything to harm her.” She kisses my cheek then the top of Cecilia’s head. “I need this, Annie.”

  I give her a small nod, and they rush out the door before I can object anyway.

  “Why didn’t you stop them?” Enzo asks.

  “Because it all happened so fast.”

  The minute the door shuts, it’s like Cecilia knows, and she wails in my arms. I rock and sway and bounce. Nothing helps.

  “I’m going to change her.” This I can do.

  As I’m changing her diaper, I gain the self-confidence to get through tonight. What’s the difference between this and when I watch Cecilia while Beth’s sleeping most Saturdays? Nothing. Except she’s usually down the hall. But that’s okay. We can do this.

  I pick her back up and she cries again. Beth said she just ate, so I’ll try to burp her. Maybe she’s gassy.

  Enzo sits on a breakfast stool as though he’s about a minute away from fleeing and leaving me here by myself. I notice he hasn’t taken off his shoes yet.

  I bounce her, patting her lightly on the back as she rests on my shoulder.

  “She’s getting a weird look,” Enzo chimes in from his nosebleed seats.

  “Like what?”

  “Like Carm does when he’s about to throw up.”

  I stop all movement. A huge belch comes out of her, followed by a trickle of something warm down my back.

  “Oh fuck!” Enzo gags.

  I circle around to find her throw-up on the floor. Enzo runs to the sink, continuing to dry heave.

  “Man up, Enzo.”

  “I’m not made for this.” His shoulders still rise and fall.

  “You’re going to have to take her. I have to clean up.”

  He crosses his arms, resting his body by the sink just in case. “I don’t know how to hold a baby. Want me to call my ma?”

  “No. Come here and I’ll put her in your arms.”

  “I don’t want to break her. Your sister will definitely cut off my balls and put them in a blender if I break her baby.”

  My patience has grown thin. I get that this isn’t Enzo’s gig, but he needs to suck it up. “Please, Enzo?”

  “No. Don’t use those two words right now.” He shakes his head like a disappointed ten-year-old.

  “What is wrong with saying ‘please, Enzo’?”

  “You know I like that in the bedroom, and now the next time you say it to me, I’m going to be thinking about throw up all over your back instead of you begging to come.” He chokes again.

  For heaven’s sake. I spot her swing and figure she can sit in there while I clean up. When I place her down, she screams as I latch the straps.

  “Read the instructions Beth left.” I hear him pick up the paper. “It says don’t put her in the swing. She hates the swing.”

  I glare at him, and he points at the writing on the letter. Enzo’s worried about my sister, but it might be me cutting off his balls and putting them in the blender.

  “It says she likes the bouncy. What’s a bouncy?” he asks.

  “Why don’t you help me find it?”

  He walks around as though there’re bombs on the floor, tiptoeing around everything. I spot the bouncy chair and put her in it. She instantly calms.

  “Thank God,” I say, then head to the kitchen to grab the paper towels and cleaning supplies. I’m more annoyed by Enzo than anything Cecilia’s done. “Can you at least sit on the couch and watch her?”

  He sits on the edge of the sofa, staring at the baby. Her eyes are shut, but her face is still flushed from crying.

  “I have to go change. Want to strip this off me?” I joke.

  He chokes again.

  “What will you do when you have kids of your own?” I ask, shaking my head.

  “Easy, I don’t plan on having any.”

  I back-step from down the hall. “What?”

  “The way tonight’s going, I’m not sure kids are for me.”

  “Just watch her.” I point at Cecilia and head back down the hall.

  Digging through Beth’s drawers, I find a sweatshirt that says, “I just married him.” The woman needs to do laundry. I was stuck in Akron, Ohio, this past Saturday. Sam couldn’t have taken over for me?

  Cecilia cries again as I’m wetting my hair to try to get the throw-up out. I understand the whole mom ponytail now. I secure my hair up on top of my head with Beth’s holder then spray some perfume on me so I don’t smell like barf. After grabbing my shirt and a bunch of their clothes, I throw them into their small washer and start it.

  Cecilia continues to cry, and I growl out of frustration. “Pick her up!”

  “I don’t know how to do that.”

  I stomp down the hall, glare at him, and swiftly pick her up, but instead of holding her, I place her in his arms. “This is what we’re here for. I’m not doing all the work. We’re a team.”

  His eyes widen as one hand cradles her head and the other holds her butt.

  Not having time to deal with his immature attitude, I head to the kitchen and start cleaning all the bottles and dishes for Beth and Sam. A second later, I realize Cecilia isn’t crying.

  I finish the bottles, fill the dishwasher, and start it. When I walk over to the couch, Enzo’s holding Cecilia to his chest, but he still looks incredibly awkward. He’s staring at her as though she’s talking to him, but her eyes are shut.

  “Here.” I take her from him. “Slide onto the couch.”

  He does.

  “Open your arms. I’m going to cradle her in them.”

  He does. I place her in his arms and prop a pillow under the one that isn’t on the armrest. Beth showed me that trick after I thought my arm would fall off. I flip on the television.

  “Can you turn up the volume?” he asks.

  “Nope. This is the setting for when she’s in the room.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Nice sweatshirt by the way.”

  “Want me to sit next to you?”

  “Is that a trick question?” Just like that, the Enzo I know—the flirty and fun-loving one—returns.

  I go over the notes for tonight. Beth wrote down clear instructions about bath time, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified. A slippery and slimy baby sounds like a challenge.

  “She has to take a bath,” I say to Enzo.

  He tries to hand her to me.

  “There’s no Annie in team,” I say and put my hands up in front of me.

  He laughs. “She’s cute, you know. She scrunches up her nose right before she releases a deadly fart. And a second ago, her hand wrapped around my finger.”

  I slide closer to see her and lay my head on his shoulder, staring at my niece. “She’s the cutest baby ever born.”

  “I’m sure you were cute.”

  I fight a smile, but it escapes anyway. “Look at you sweet- talking me.”

  “I owe you after the asshole I was earlier.” He turns to me. “I’m sorry.”

  I nod. “Thanks for that. Are you ready for the bath?”

  He shakes his head and I laugh, picking her up. Immediately he stretches his arms over his head and to the side. “How much d
oes she weigh?”

  “Twelve pounds, I think.”

  “Why do my arms feel like Jell-O?” he asks, continuing to stretch them as he follows me to the bathroom.

  “Okay, we need that baby bath.” I point at the pink plastic thing in the tub of their second bathroom.

  He picks it up and puts it on the counter.

  “Grab the temperature thing.” I flip on the water. “Beth says it needs to be at one hundred degrees. I’m going to undress her.”

  “You’re leaving me responsible for the water?” His fearful look makes me laugh.

  “I trust you.”

  Once I undress Cecilia, I come back to the bathroom, place her in the baby bath, and she opens her eyes, smiling. She loves the water. Thank God. Using the washcloth, I try to bathe her the same way I witnessed Beth do.

  “I’m going to hold her up, and you’re going to get her back,” I say to Enzo, who’s watching from behind me, not really participating.

  “Thanks for taking one for the team. She’s slippery, and though I’m a pro at handling wet things, this is something entirely different.”

  “Okay, no sexual innuendos in front of the baby.”

  He takes the washcloth from my hands and washes her back and the back of her head.

  We finish quickly. Picking her up under her arms, I lift her out of the bath. Enzo holds his hands under mine in case she slips. God love him.

  I gently place her on the towel and wrap her up before carrying her into the bedroom.

  Enzo waltzes in moments later with our instructions. “We have to turn this on.” He flicks on this circle thing that projects stars and animals onto the ceiling. “We have to make sure everything is out of the crib.” He looks over the edge as I dress her in a pair of giraffe pajamas. “We have to turn on the monitor.” He flicks on another gadget that lights up.

  I kiss her forehead. “Time for bed,” I whisper.

  Her eyes are already shutting as I place her in the crib.

  “We’re done.”

  “According to this.”

  I lean into his chest as we watch Cecilia fall asleep, my own eyes drooping with exhaustion.

  A minute later, we tiptoe out of the room and Enzo falls onto the couch, so I join him. We lie there for five minutes before his hands slide under the hem of my sweatshirt. Just as he cops a feel, Cecilia screams.

  “So much for bedtime.” I look back at a spent Enzo. “Still gonna come all over my tits tonight?”

  He peeks one eye open . “Raincheck?”

  I laugh while walking back down the hall. Yeah, we’ve got lots of time to make that happen.

  Chapter 27

  Enzo

  * * *

  The Coddle bath time presentation goes smoother than the diaper one. Blair said she’s swamped and didn’t even ask us for an actual presentation, just to send over the video, which they loved.

  “Mr. Jacobson will see you now,” Mindy, his assistant, says.

  “Thanks.”

  I walk in and shut the door, hoping this is when he’ll give me the news about my partnership.

  “Enzo.” Mr. Jacobson pours himself a scotch, holding up his glass to offer me one.

  “Of course,” I say.

  Instead of sitting at his desk, he guides us to his couch and chair with a view of Manhattan that makes my view look like a back alley. “You know, I was the one who hired you. I saw your resume. Saw what you did as an apprentice. Benny said you were a hotshot and that your ego would get in your way.”

  Good thing poor Benny Earl passed. May he rest in peace.

  “But I told him your ego was what would make you great.” He smiles and sits in the chair across from me. “And years later, here we are, talking about a partnership.”

  I nod, sipping my scotch, and place the glass on the table. I need my A-plus game here. “I can’t thank you enough for every opportunity.”

  He nods. “You know I don’t listen to rumors. I hear them, but I learned a long time ago not to listen.”

  I shift in my seat in an attempt to ease some of my discomfort.

  “We’ve all had our indiscretions.” He sets his drink on the table between us and leans forward. “It’s hard when all these young women are walking around flaunting what they’ve got, fishing to find themselves a rich husband.”

  I slide to the back of the couch, any words lodged in my throat.

  “You and Annie Stewart are getting along well. After your long run of assistants, I’m curious what makes her so easy to work with.”

  Shit. He knows. I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t get the opportunity.

  “What I’m asking is are you going to bat to try to get her promoted because of a relationship the two of you have after hours?”

  “No.” I don’t stop to even think about it. She deserves the promotion whether or not she’s sleeping with me. “She’s good, Mr. Jacobson, one of the best I’ve worked with.”

  He takes a sip of his scotch and sets it down. “I see where the advantage might come in to have her on board to handle the female products. She saved our ass on the diaper thing. Motherly instincts, I suppose.” He chuckles.

  I don’t agree . I’m finally realizing that I’m working for a class-A asshole.

  “I think she’ll benefit Jacobson and Earl overall,” I say because I have nothing to add to his sexist talk.

  He mulls that over for a minute. “I guess we could promote her to junior ad exec. What could it hurt? It’ll make her happy and avoid a sexual discrimination issue for a while.”

  “Sir—”

  “But we’ll wait until after we’re done with Coddle. I heard you’re on to tampons. Good luck on that one. Why don’t you let her lead it? I want to see what she has without your input.”

  “You want to give her the tampon pitch all to herself?”

  “Well no, she’s too green to let her have at it with no oversight.”

  I could argue that she’s not, but I don’t say anything.

  “Guide her. Oversee it. Makes sure whatever she’s got lives up to the standard we’ve set here.”

  “Okay.” I sip my drink, wondering if there’s more to discuss, like, I don’t know, me becoming partner.

  He sips his drink for a second, staring off into space, and I wonder for a second if the old man died on me.

  “As far as you go…”

  I want to rub my hands together. Here’s the good part.

  “I know we’ve talked about the possibility of you making partner. As you can imagine, this is a hard decision for me to make. Benny and I were partners from the get-go. I’ve tried to keep things going with the same vision he and I originally had for the company, and I can’t deny that the idea of you as a partner scares me a bit.”

  “Why would I scare you?” I slide to the edge of my seat.

  “You’re young. You’re going to want change. Teddy Beardsman, now there’s a guy who understands the rules to play by.”

  I rewind his words, trying to bring clarity to them. Is he fucking kidding me? Beardsman? That hack?

  I inhale a deep breath to try to cage in my anger. “With all due respect, Mr. Jacobson, I bring in double the clients Teddy does. Not only in number but in revenue.”

  He holds his hand up in a placating gesture. “I know, I know, but you and this Annie Stewart thing has me wondering if…” He leans forward. “If Jacobson and Earl is eventually going to have a daycare for working mothers who will be out once a month ‘sick.’” He puts the word sick in air quotes.

  It doesn’t take a genius to read between the lines. He’s afraid I’ll promote women and change the culture of the office.

  “I’m getting older, and I don’t want to be here all day. But it’s a bigger decision than just making you partner because you bring in the most revenue. I have to pick someone Benny and I would’ve agreed on, and like I said, he always thought you were too cocky.”

  My arrogance is what makes me so great at my job. I don’t second-guess decis
ions. I trust my gut, get excited about my idea, which in turn makes clients believe in me and my vision for their campaigns. I’ve given this company my entire twenties and into my thirties. I have no life other than work and now he’s decided that maybe I’m not the right fit? “Mr. Jacobson—”

  He holds up his hand to stop me, and I clench my fists. “Just relax, Enzo. I’m not making any final decision right now. I just figured you were wondering where this is all going. I know you’re probably the best candidate. Teddy’s always off for some kid’s activity.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re my bachelor, no-strings kind of guy. You could very well bring Jacobson and Earl to the next level.”

  Finally he’s talking sense.

  “But I have to weed through it all. I really called you in here to talk about Annie Stewart. Like I said, rumors are flying because you’re finally getting along with a woman you work with, and in my experience, that usually has nothing to do with actual work.”

  If my ma had raised me differently, I’d punch him and not care if I broke every bone in his face. I don’t understand men like this. I know there’s a generation gap, but saying I’m only getting along with Annie because he thinks we’re having an affair? The fact that we are in a sexual relationship aside, I have respect for her work. That’s why we work well together. But that seems to be a foreign concept to him.

  “I assure you, sir, Annie Stewart has a bright future and you don’t want to pass her up. I say that based on her work performance alone.” I down the rest of my scotch and set the glass on the table a little harder than necessary.

  He nods. “Okay then. Well, good luck, and I’ll have an answer on the partnership at the same time as I do for Miss Stewart and the junior ad exec position. A couple weeks max.”

  I refrain from arguing that he said he’d promote her after we landed two more products for Coddle. I can’t be the prince who swoops in every time, no matter how much I want to be. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobson.”

  I shake his hand and leave his office feeling as if he just shoved a massive stick up my ass.

  “Have a nice day, Enzo,” Mindy says.