Page 26 of The Surrogate Nanny

“Welcome to parenthood. You’re a fool if you think I escape this little shark unscathed.”

Anthony’s brilliant smile lit up the bathroom like the beam shooting out of the top of the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas. “Little Shark...that’s what I’ve been calling her,” he commented.

I shook my head and wrapped Nori in a towel. Seconds later, she sat on the counter and waited patiently for her next victim.

“It’s a two-step process,” I explained. “First, put on Ms. Rachel. Second, brush,” I said, wielding my phone out of my pocket, mesmerizing her instantly. I followed up with the toothbrush with a dot of toothpaste that I snuck under the phone. Anthony watched my technique from the toilet with a wince. I nodded at his knee. “Did you fall?”

He raised a brow. “I...was briefly horizontal, but I’m perfectly fine.”

I bit my bottom lip, attempting not to laugh. “You really are a businessman. Briefly horizontal is a cool way to say you fell.”

“It’s less cool when you explain it.” I caught him smirking with his scarred cheek resting in his palm. His eyes were fixed on Nori, a small smile lingering on his face. “She’s so good with you.”

I sighed. “I know her,” I admitted softly. “Babies are just tiny people with personalities, likes, and dislikes. It’s a learning curve. You’ll get there one day.” I side-eyed him playfully. “Or maybe not.”

He smirked ruefully. “It was arrogant of me to assume I’d know her so quickly.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Arrogant is one way to put it.”

“But you have a crueler word in mind?” he mused.

“I always do.”

He laughed. “I’m convinced you’ve tainted her personality. I’ve seen that very same smile right before she bites me.” I rolled my eyes and wiped Nori’s face with a washcloth before kissing it. She smiled up at me and went right back to the phone. “I love her anyway,” Anthony said softly beside me.

His confession was so tender. I couldn’t help but meet his eyes. “She’s just lovable like that,” I admitted, proud of my accomplishment. Nori was my greatest achievement—my purpose in life. Was my way of thinking unhealthy? Absolutely. Did I care? No. We all had something we couldn’t live without, and Nori was that something for me.

Anthony stood and rested on his cane as I lifted Nori from the sink. She yawned and rubbed her face on my shirt. “I’ll put her to bed,” I murmured, ignoring, once again, our proximity as he towered over me. Even slightly hunched over on his cane, I had to crane my neck back to make eye contact.

Just how tall is this man?

“Yes, it is bedtime for the little shark.”

I nodded. “Are you sure you’re okay? That sounded like some fall.”

“I’m fine. A semi-truck t-boned me. I think I’ll be all right.”

“Goodnight, Mr.—”

“Anthony. Please call me Anthony, Simone. It wouldn’t be proper for the mother of my child to be so formal with me.”

I ignored the fluttering in my stomach. It was true. I was the mother of his child, but that didn’t give me the right to feel some type of way about it.

“Goodnight, Anthony.”

“Goodnight, Simone.”

Chapter Fourteen

Anthony

I nursed a snifter of bourbon, attempting to kill three birds with one stone—numb the pain in my leg, ease my guilt, and forget about my feelings for Simone Livingston that increased with each month that her stomach grew. Soon after signing the contract, I found myself looking for every excuse to be in her presence. I even went as far as stopping by her apartment after work one day to make sure her smoke and carbon monoxide detector functioned properly. She had greeted me with a puzzled yet radiant smile, silently wondering what the hell I was there for, but too polite to turn me away. A two-minute detector check turned into a two-hour chat followed by dinner at her favorite Mexican restaurant. I gravitated towards Simone like the cliché moth to a flame, not because she was carrying my child, but because she was the first woman since my wife who could completely disarm me with a simple smile. My icy exterior that had built up after years of grief and mourning from losing my parents and subsequently my wife started to melt. With Simone around, I smiled a little wider, laughed a little harder, and cried a little less. She was beautiful, kind, funny, positive, rarely cursed, and could give it back to me just as good as I gave it.

At one point, I pictured what life could’ve been if my daughter had been born and Simone stuck around but had let go of that fantasy as soon as I remembered our contract. Simone was there for the money—nothing else. She dreamed of traveling and going to school to become a social worker—not being tied down with a baby and a sometimes emotionally unavailable man.

I was mid-sip when I heard feet padding down the stairs. I checked my watch and was surprised it had gotten so late. With Simone’s arrival, I should have had zero issues falling asleep; however, I was still restless, hence my glass of top-shelf bourbon.?

“Simone? Is that you?”