I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at David, choosing to smile demurely instead.
“Fine, that’s settled,” Ashton said. To David, he instructed, “Now, get lost, before I change my mind about your employment status.”
David’s mouth plopped open, and he scuttled off to his corner office.
“Thank you,” I said. “And I am sorry about Levi, he’s usually so well-behaved; I don’t know what got into him.”
Ashton’s caramel eyes were unexpectedly warm, in complete contrast to the fiery, demanding tone he’d just used with David.
“Don’t apologize,” he replied. “In fact, I’m rather pleased you brought him in today.”
“Uh, why?” I asked, my eyebrows quirking with skepticism.
“He’s a beautiful little boy. Just the man we need for the job.”
“What job?”
“We’re doing a shoot today, for the new Kinderholler stroller. Our last baby actor, ah…fell through, so to speak.” He paused, licking his lips, and my eyes were compelled to notice their perfectness. “Would you mind if we used Levi for the shoot?”
I hesitated, unsure of what to say, and more than a little distracted by the fact that Ashton’s cheek bones and jawline were carved like the stone of a mountain.
“Of course, you’d be very generously compensated for your son’s time,” Ashton added. “And the shoot wouldn’t actually recommence until Friday.”
My mouth finally remembered how to form words. “But don’t you usually hire, like, an actor for that? A baby actor, I mean?” God, I sounded stupid. Was I always this rambling?
“Generally, yes. But, um…” Now, it was Ashton’s turn to trail off. “We’ve been having some…difficulties…with the other children.”
“Oh, really?”
Ashton looked around the room, and everyone’s eyes quickly moved from our exchange to their screens.
Without their prying gazes, he continued, “Honestly, the other babies seem to cry whenever I’m around. Levi’s the first one that seems not to despise me.”
Much to my surprise, I saw a pained look flit across his face, but it was gone before I could consider it more deeply.
I wanted to help him, and God knows I could’ve used the money, but a childhood acting career wasn’t exactly the most stable path in life. Besides, if all the other babies had been flipping out at the sight of Ashton, who was to say that they weren’t on to something? The prospect was tempting, but my reservations were numerous.
“Can I think about it?” I asked Ashton.
“Of course,” he replied quickly. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re not comfortable with.” He took out his phone and tapped something into it. “Here, I’ve just airdropped you my contact info. Just reach out when you’ve made a decision.”
“When do you need to know by?”
He pulled at his neatly hemmed suit cuffs, and replied, “Preferably by tonight.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “I can handle that.”
“I look forward to hearing from you.” Something about his tone of voice convinced me that the sentiment was a real one.
He returned Levi into my arms, and gave me a last once-over, my body sizzling at the feeling of his gaze roaming across every curve. Without further discussion, he turned on a well-shod heel and walked out of the office. I was left alone, with a newly quieted Levi, to mull over the offer.
The rest of the work day passed uneventfully—though, to be fair, not much would’ve ticked on my radar after the drama of the morning. After his mortifying outburst, and Ashton’s oddly paternal hold, Levi had immediately fallen into a slumber that he went in and out of peacefully for the next seven-odd hours, with a few feeds and diaper changes in between. I tapped away at my keyboard, dealing with sundry tasks; my brain was elsewhere. Or, to be specific, on the breadth of Ashton’s hands.
I was startled when I realized it was five o’clock already. Had I really been distracted for the entirety of the afternoon? I’d last fed Levi around three, I was sure of it, but nothing else seemed to register in my mind. Maybe mommy brain was a real thing.
Levi and I drove home in quiet, picking up takeout from my favorite Mexican place en route. Soon enough, we were back in the comfort of the apartment, and I was giving him his bath, kissing his forehead, and laying him into the crib. When the baby business was sorted, I wolfed down the burrito I’d picked up—somehow, in the day’s haze, I’d definitely missed lunch—then hopped into a steaming hot shower.
After the shower, it was back into the comfort of my robe, and after that, into the even more blissful comfort of my bed. I opened my laptop and turned on a sitcom from my childhood, more for comforting background noise than anything.
Leaning back against the pillows, I considered my options regarding the baby shoot. My penchant for lists reared its Type-A head, and I began to mentally sort the factors into columns.
So, for the pros…
One, the money. A big, big pro. Ashton hadn’t named a figure, but Swann Innovations was a massive company with cash to spare. Plus, they seemed to be in a serious bind, so that might bump the already generous pay.
Two, it would mean I could take Levi to work, and give my parents another day off without having to pay for a sitter. And, this time, David would have to treat Levi politely—after all, he’d be the star for the day.
And, three, could Ashton’s general hotness count as a pro? Especially since we’d definitely be working closely together…
At that last thought, my practical brain swung immediately over to the other side of the list—the cons.
The first was that the commercial would give Levi a lot of exposure, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for him to have that. Working in tech had convinced me that giving your child too much of an internet presence at too young an age could be a privacy vulnerability. Additionally, Levi would be complicit in accruing even more money for the already ludicrously wealthy Ashton and his board of directors. I get that we live in a capitalism-driven society, but did I really have to make my son a part of that economy?
And then, there was the man himself. Ashton. While his sculpted cheekbones were certainly a big pro, his reputation was an equally big con. What if he was as bad as people said? What if today had been a fluke, and the next time he held Levi, he freaked out? Would Ashton fly into one of his alleged rages?
The pros and cons flipped back and forth in my brain over the soundtrack of the sitcom audience laughing and clapping.
At last, I decided on a workable argument: I could justify the shoot if I promised myself to put the money into Levi’s college fund. I hadn’t been able to set aside a single cent for him ever since Kyle ran out, and the way tuition prices were climbing these days, I was already behind on the savings. Maybe this could help him avoid the student loans that had plagued me for years.
My mind was settled—Levi would take the job.
I grabbed my phone from the bedside nightstand, scrolled through my contacts to find Ashton’s information, and with a deep breath, made the call.
“Hello?” a deep voice answered. I recognized it as Ashton’s.
Wait, had he really given me his private number? A man like him had an army of secretaries to answer various business calls. Why did he want me to call him directly?
But I couldn’t ask him any of that, so instead, I replied, “Hey, it’s Harley. From earlier. The one with the baby.”
“I remember you, Harley With The Baby.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and a shiver ran from my eardrum down the back of my spine, stopping to pluck each vertebra, one by one.
“Um, right,” I mumbled, embarrassed at my total lack of cool. “I just wanted to call to say that, yes, I’ll let you use Levi in the shoot on Friday.”
“You’re a good woman. Thank you. Swann Innovations is in your debt.”
“Not literally though, right?” I joked.
“Of course not. I’ll discuss an appropriate fee with the a
dvertising department, and then, naturally, we’ll pay what reflects your flexibility with the situation.”
“Okay.” I paused, unsure of what else to say. Ashton was so confident, so smooth, that it left me feeling a bit woozy. “See you then.”
“Great. I look forward to it, Harley With The Baby.”
“You can just call me Harley.”
His voice dropped and rumbled in his chest. “Good night, Harley. Sleep well.”
He hung up with a click. Sleep? Not likely. The thought of his voice whispering low into my ear kept me awake well into the night.
Chapter 4
Harley
Friday came simultaneously slowly and quickly; anticipation makes time unsteady, the pacing hard to grasp. That morning, I voluntarily woke up early—a rarity in any new parent’s life—to prepare myself for set. Hollywood folks always looked perfect, right? I reasoned that I had to act the part, if only for Levi’s benefit.
I used the extra time to do something nice to my hair and apply careful makeup, making sure I didn’t forget mascara on one eye this time, and even dabbing on some red lip tint.
“Okay,” I said to my reflection, surveying myself with approval. “That’ll do.” Then, with a small smirk, I whispered to the girl in the mirror, “Mama’s still got it.”
But what to wear? I dressed more business-like than most people in the office; I preferred pencil skirts and button-downs to T-shirts and jeans. Should I try for that casual Cool-Girl vibe, and throw on a loose top and tight jeans, maybe a pair of booties? No, all of my “casual” clothes were in the hamper or left over from my maternity wear collection.
And, okay, part of the motive for the revamped routine was, maybe, Ashton. Ashton, based on his own office wear, preferred business attire, so if I was going by those predilections—which I definitely wasn’t, mostly—then I should be wearing my usual professional attire. Perhaps I’d pop open an extra button, just for fun.
I threw on a shimmery blouse made of a thin, turquoise fabric suited only to San Bravado’s beautiful weather and stepped into a gray pencil skirt that I used to wear to college business mixers, because what better place to find a man? Though, obviously, you’ve heard about Kyle—clearly that plan backfired.
It had been a while since I’d donned the Magic Butt-Lifting Skirt, and I was shocked and delighted to find that it still fit. Now…what shoes?
I gazed into my tiny closet, then crouched and reached a hand into the very back. I landed on a pair of patent leather black heels. They had a four-inch heel, but it was a chunky one, so I figured I’d be able to handle it.
Wait, what if I the shoes hurt like hell and I had to ask for a seat, or audibly complain? Not hot. Plus, I’d have to carry Levi in them, at least briefly. Sighing lightly, I resigned myself to a pair of practical nude flats which elongated my legs; the heels would have to be for another time.
Then, it was time to make Levi look his best. I brushed his light blond hair back on his head, dressed him in his nicest onesie…and that was pretty much the entirety of his “getting ready” routine. Lucky kid.
I fed and diapered him, made myself a smoothie, then gathered our stuff. The morning was turning out to be much more relaxing than the last time I’d taken him into work. Oh, what a difference an extra hour can make!
Soon enough, we’d loaded into the car, arrived at work, and traveled the thirty floors up to my office. Sure enough, heads turned when they saw Levi again; one particularly unsubtle intern even turned to look at David to clock his reaction. David didn’t give the intern the delight of a meltdown, though. Instead, he merely looked at me, quirked his upper lip in disgust, then strode off to his office.
With Levi in tow, I set my stuff down at my desk, then pulled out my phone and checked my reflection. Yup, still looked decent—good, even.
We made our way through a veritable warren of offices and hallways, twisting and turning and climbing and descending in our search for the studio. I knew where it was, but damn, was it a trek to get there. Moreover, the journey made me wonder…how ever did Ashton come from shooting on set and randomly stumble into the HR department, which was practically miles away?
At last, nearly out of breath—in my case at least—Levi and I arrived.
A red light that indicated whether or not the cameras were rolling hung over the entrance door, and seeing that it was off, I pushed my way in.
I found a hub of activity—stagehands running around frantically, the director framing a shot, cameramen grumbling about lighting. Logically, I’d understood that Swann had a real set, but having never seen it in action, I’d assumed it would be a much smaller affair. But no, this was a tiny, teeming village of people, all working to record the perfect commercial. The perfect commercial…featuring my son.
My breath caught in my throat as I suddenly understood just how many people were reliant on Levi being on his best behavior. Could he handle this, truly? I bent down to give him a kiss on the forehead, which reassured me more than him.
That’s when I saw Ashton striding towards us. A light powered on overhead just as I caught sight of him, such that he looked like Zeus activating a lightning bolt.
Rein it in, Harley, I thought fiercely. Stay cool. I shook my head at that last thought—I was never cool.
“Hey Ashton,” I said by way of greeting as he closed the gap between us. “How’s it going?”
“Better, now that you’re here.” I blushed, and as if remembering formality, he added, “You, and Levi, that is.”
“Right, of course.”
His brown hair, coiffed in the way that only confident men can style it, bobbed up and down as he nodded. I took the break in conversation to note that his eyebrows were thick but tamed, and arched smoothly at my every word. How annoyingly hot.
“So,” he said, interrupting my consideration of his various features. “Are you ready to begin?”
My breath hitched, but I managed to reply, “Yes.”
He grinned. “Excellent. In that case, ah, may I?” Ashton gestured to Levi.
Confused, I asked, “What?”
“The shots we’re doing today. I’m holding a baby—or, rather, your baby—for them.”
“Oh…I hadn’t understood that.”
“Is it a problem?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. After all, how do you say to your boss, “You seem decent, and you’re obviously gorgeous, but I’m not sure I really want you holding my baby for that long.” Then, I reconsidered. For one, I’d already agreed to this, and shame on me for not asking what it entailed. But, also, I’d already seen him successfully hold Levi without either of them having any glaring issues. That would have to be a strong enough reassurance.
At last, I replied, “No, it’s not a problem.”
With that, I unwrapped Levi from the carrier and gently, tentatively passed him over to Ashton. My boss took Levi with all the tenderness in the world, and my heart skipped a beat seeing how strong Ashton’s arms looked, wrapped around my child. They were the arms of a protector, a defender. They were arms that I wanted wrapped around me.
What can I say? Men who are good with kids are a turn-on. The daddy instinct is like catnip.
“Follow me,” Ashton instructed—and, as he had my baby in his arms, I couldn’t really say no.
Not that I would have, mind you; a worryingly strong part of me suspected I would follow Ashton wherever he asked me to follow him. Were my hormones getting a chokehold on me? Had it just been so long since I’d had sex that all men hiked up my blood pressure? Or, was it just Ashton, with his perfect hair and strong arms and dazzling smile?
“How old?” he asked as we at last arrived at the filming area itself, which was a clean white backdrop, a grid of overhead lights, and a single mounted camera.
“You’re not supposed to ask a woman her age,” I blushed. “But I’m twenty-five.”
“Actually…I meant your son,” he responded, and I could hear the amusement in his tone. “But twenty-fi
ve? My, that’s young.”
“What, did you think I was older?” I retorted, then immediately regretted it.
“No, not at all. You just seem more grounded than other women your age.”
“Oh. Thank you, I think.”
“It’s a compliment, Harley; take it.” His eyes lit up playfully, and their warm, brown depths seemed to see through me as if I were thinner than a sheet in the summer air.
“How old are you?” I was hoping to deflect attention from just how obviously off-balance his presence made me.
“Twenty-nine. But you already knew that.”
He was right; I did. All the papers covered the Business Boy Wonder with a borderline cult-like zeal. I couldn’t blame the press, though—it was fairly amusing that a 24-year-old without a child or partner had decided to found a baby-tech company. While other men his age had been starting video gaming franchises, or trying to make themselves social media stars, Ashton had been getting venture capital funding to launch Swann Innovations. And, here he was, only five years later, a billionaire.
“So, what now?” I inquired.
“Now, we shoot.”
With that, Ashton carried Levi over to the woman apparently running the show, exchanged a few words with her, then stepped in front of the white backdrop and faced the camera. I stared at my son, willing him fiercely via mother-son telepathy to be a good boy.
The director called, “Lights. Rolling. And…action!”
What transpired over the next hour was a picture-perfect shoot. Levi gurgled happily in Ashton’s arms, and Ashton in turn seemed delighted by Levi’s approval. The man and baby worked in easy harmony, and I could tell from the atmosphere around me that this was a vast change from the other day’s attempt. The crew even seemed to be sending grateful looks in my direction.
But I didn’t respond to their meaningful gazes; I was too busy enjoying Levi’s giddiness. Usually, by the time I got home from work and thanked my parents for watching him, it was almost Levi’s bedtime. Our hours together were limited and precious, so I was thrilled to watch him bubble with joy on set. The money from filming was nice, sure, but watching his face light up was priceless.
The Baby Bargain Page 3
