Page 13 of Hidden Truths

“Maybe you can take advantage of her really hot and famous daddy,” she says and makes a bow-chica-wow-wow sound. I don’t hold back my pinch this time, and she yelps.

“He’s the biggest player and always has been,” I mutter, a bitterness to my tone I know she doesn’t miss.

“If you don’t like him, then there’s no conflict. We can deal with the NDA when and if we need to.”

Jo’s phone chimes, and she looks down at it with a frown. “Why do I have an email asking me to interview to be Maverick Wolfe’s personal assistant? Is this fake?”

“Oh shit. I gave Willa your information and told her you were looking for an assistant position. I didn’t know who it was for,” I say, jumping up from my bed so fast I got dizzy.

“Harlow! Now we can both spy!” she yells and does a weird little jig.

“Can you stop phrasing it like that? You’re making me feel guilty, and I haven’t even done anything yet,” I say, glaring at her with my hands on my hips so she knows I’m serious. “Plus, you don’t even know if you’ll get the job.”

Jo snorts. “Of course I’ll get the job. I’m the best.”

I roll my eyes at her but laugh. She’s probably right.

But I can’t help that lingering feeling of guilt that’s eating away at the back of my mind.

I’m on my second coffee of the day already as I pull into Cal’s driveway. I’m used to early mornings, but I didn’t get much sleep last night. A sudden case of nervousness kept me awake all night. I guess it’s good practice for being up with a teething baby.

As I’m taking in the large home and its beautiful yard, the front door swings open. Cal is standing there without a shirt, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. I’d spend more time taking in his abs and the light dusting of dark chest hair if it wasn’t for the panicked look on his face.

I quickly get out of my car and head towards him.

“Help,” he says before running back into the house.

I run after him, thinking the absolute worst. I’m holding my breath as I take in a red-faced and screaming Cora. Cal picks her up from the portable crib quickly, patting her back and trying to comfort her.

“What do I do? She didn’t sleep at all last night. She’s so angry, and her face is red, and I think she has a fever, but putting things up her butt seems wrong, but her face is hot, but that could be because of the screaming, and I read somewhere that a fever could be from the teething, but other places said that was a myth and —” I hold up my hand to stop him.

“Start from the top. She hasn’t slept?” I ask. He shakes his head. “When did she last eat?”

“I can only get her to eat maybe an ounce at a time, and she just threw up the last bottle.” His eyes are wide with complete panic. “I was going to call Belle or Willa, but honestly, they know about as much about babies as I do. My dad is out of town on a business trip until tomorrow.” He tries bouncing with Cora to calm her, but I reach out to stop him. If she threw up, bouncing isn’t going to help. “What do I do?” Cal’s eyes are pleading. He’s terrified.

I gently take Cora into my arms, a little surprised he lets me. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Let’s figure this out.” I ask him a few more questions, not really liking the answers. No wet diapers since last night. Can’t lay her down, and she only really relaxes while she’s on his shoulder.

“I’m not a doctor, but I think she has an ear infection. I’ll take her temp while you call her doctor.” I watch all the color drain from Cal’s face, but he nods. The best way to take a baby’s temperature is rectally. So I get his reaction. He’ll need to get over it, though.

I head up to the nursery and dig around the drawers until I find the thermometer. Once I get her temp, which she was very unhappy about me taking, I bring her back down to her dad. “102.6,” I tell him, and he relays that to the doctor he’s on the phone with.

“They can take her at eight when they open but said to go to the hospital if she gets worse,” he tells me once he ends the call. I check my watch and see it’s a little after six.

“I’m going to try to get her to slowly drink her formula. Can you get her stuff ready so we can leave when we need to?” I left out the part where I meant leave for the hospital if we need to, but I know it’s at the back of his mind, and I don’t need to send him over the edge by mentioning it.

I manage to get Cora to keep down about two ounces in the ninety minutes I spent feeding her slowly. Cal stays next to me the entire time, leg bouncing as he watches his daughter.

“You’re coming with us, right?” he asks while I put Cora in her seat. The little girl is not happy, and she’s screaming at the top of her lungs to let us know. If I’m right and her ears hurt, reclining like this will make the pain worse, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

“I can if you want me to.”

“Please,” he says, his hand grabbing mine. I squeeze his hand in return, it’s clear he needs the support if he’s seeking it out in someone who’s practically a stranger.

“Let’s go.” I grab the diaper bag that Cal put by the door as he grabs Cora in her car seat. None of the panic has left his eyes. I grab his arm and squeeze lightly as we make our way to his car. He gives me a small smile.

Cora screams the entire drive to the doctor, and I can tell Cal is about to lose it. He’s running on no sleep and one hundred percent panic. The moment he parks the car, I get out and take Cora from her seat, hoping having her in my arms in a more upright position will help her feel a little better.

“Go check her in. I’ll meet you in there,” I tell him as I rub Cora’s back and tell her she’s going to be okay. Cal nods and runs into the building.

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