me to get her cover.
Catherine had her breast out, in full view of the large, strange man making himself at home on my fucking furniture. I hoped he enjoyed it. It was the last time he’d be experiencing it.
I sat down next to Catherine, handing her the cover. She shook her head and tossed it aside.
“Thank you for getting it, but I really hate wearing it, and Sam’s fine with me nursing during the interview,” she said quietly.
“I’ll bet he’s comfortable,” I muttered. Who wouldn’t be comfortable with a pretty woman’s breast on display? Sure, nursing was beautiful and natural, but it was still a breast, and this one was attached to Catherine. I’d seen far more of her in the weeks she’d lived with me than I’d ever expected to, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking.
I doubted Sam was any more capable.
“What was that?” she whispered.
“Nothing.”
She patted my knee. “Don’t make it weird.”
I jerked my chin at the overgrown frat boy across from us. “Let’s get this over with.”
Joey kicked my arm like she was sending me a message. Grow up, asshole. I took her foot in my hand and rubbed her downy soft skin, conveying back, It isn’t my fault your mom drives me to distraction.
Catherine and Sam conducted the interview with little input from me. As far as I was concerned, he was out of the running. He could say he’d been trained by Supernanny herself and was the inventor of the Montessori method and still wouldn’t have been qualified.
That he was eyeing Catherine like he was interested in more than just a job didn’t help. As for her part, I couldn’t tell if this guy was her type or his nanny charm was working on her, but they kept making each other laugh while I failed to see what was so goddamn funny.
At least Jo wasn’t laughing. When she finished eating, Catherine held her in the crook of her arm, facing Sam, and Jo’s little brow puckered. She was a smiley girl. For her to frown at good-guy-Sam was surely a sign.
“How do you feel about sleep training?” I asked.
Yes, I’d interrupted, but them chatting about some beach in Costa Rica they’d both been to wasn’t getting us anywhere. It was time to shut Sam down.
“It’s up to the parents, but if asked my opinion, I’d say I’m a strong proponent of it,” Sam answered. “My grandma used to say letting babies cry helped strengthen their lungs. I know it’s not medically proven, but I think some of the old-fashioned methods work wonders.”
Catherine’s spine went ramrod straight as he spoke, just as I’d expected. I had to hold back a smirk. Sam had just walked into a pile of shit and didn’t even know it.
After that, the interview wrapped up fairly quickly. I let Sam out of my house, and by his expression, he’d realized he wouldn’t be getting a call back.
Josephine was happily kicking around on her play mat when I returned, Catherine pacing the carpet around her.
“Strengthen their lungs?” She threw her arms out and groaned. “He seemed so perfect, then he started spouting baby advice from the fifties. If I had let him keep talking, he probably would have said car seats weren’t necessary since his grandma survived without one.”
“There’s still the option of letting Josephine sleep in my drawer.”
She pinned me with a hard glare. “How did you know he was going to answer like that?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Instinct. It’s my job to study people and discern who they are through their mannerisms and the subtext of what they’re saying. He didn’t strike me as a person who stayed up to date on the latest infant studies.”
She groaned again then walked straight into me, her head colliding with my chest. “If the next nanny is terrible, I won’t be able to come back. Daniel is going to have to stay on longer.”
Catherine was standing a breath away from me, her forehead on my collarbone, and I wasn’t sure what to do. This wasn’t like last week when instinct had driven me to hold her as she fell apart. She was keeping it together now, though frustration rose from her like heat waves off a summer sidewalk.
“Do you want me to hug you?”
“Yes, please.” She curled her arms around my middle. Mine circled around her shoulders, pulling her close. She molded against me, pressing her cheek over my thudding heart. Catherine was as soft as she looked and fit well in my arms.
My lines were firm. I never crossed them with employees, no matter who they were, and for most of Catherine’s tenure, I’d kept them fortified. But they’d crumbled months ago, probably when I’d felt Josephine moving inside her, and we kept moving farther and farther away from the rubble left behind.
This was uncharted territory, but there was no pulling back. Not for me. Not anymore. Whether I went forward or stayed where I was had yet to be seen. Once Catherine was back in the office next week, hopefully it would become clear.
“What’s the next nanny’s name?” I asked.
“Fredericka, but her résumé says she goes by Freddie.”
“Hmmm.” I stroked along her spine. “Freddie taking care of Joey. I don’t know, that’s auspicious. I have a good feeling about Freddie.”
She tilted her head back. Some of her panic had ebbed. “That’s a really good point.” She shoved my arm. “Have I been making you uncomfortable nursing without a cover all this time? You never said anything, but you seemed horrified when Sam was here.”
“No. If I’m uncomfortable, I rectify the situation.”
“Then what was your problem?”
“He was looking at you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “He wasn’t looking at me inappropriately. We were talking to each other—”
“Trust me, Catherine. I know when a man is interested, and Sam was. If you’d hired him, he would have been a problem.”
She pulled back, huffing. “I can’t even feed my child without men falling all over themselves? You don’t look.” When I didn’t reply, she leaned in, studying my expression. “Do you?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m human, not cyborg.”
Her mouth fell open, forming an O. “You’ve looked at my boobs, Elliot?”
“A glance here and there.”
This was the most embarrassing moment of my life. Even more than when my mother showed up at my high school in pajamas demanding I show her how to change the batteries in the remote.
I should have picked up the skill of lying somewhere along the way, but I was my father’s son. Dishonesty wasn’t in my wheelhouse, and I looked down on those who thought the truth was theirs to stretch and mold at their whim.
Catherine snickered at my admission. “I can’t deny it. I’d probably look too.” Then she shoved my arm again. “So why’d you blame Sam for looking?”
I caught her hand before she could assault me again and held it between us. “I didn’t like his eyes on you.”
She sucked in a soft breath. “That simple?”
“For me, it is.” I stepped back from her because I had to. “I’m going to do some work until Freddie arrives.”
She held up her crossed fingers. “Let’s hope she’s awesome.”
If she wasn’t, I’d find someone who was.
Anything less than the best wasn’t acceptable for Josephine.
