Page 13 of Baby Contract

“Yes, so start thinking of some good names. I’m going to go readMaster and Commanderto the little one. Also, cook Addison’s steak medium. I don’t think she likes the rare stuff.”

“How do you know?”

“Because a couple of mornings ago, you cooked steak and eggs for breakfast, and she didn’t eat the red parts of the meat. She likes it slightly pink inside.”

“You weren’t even here when I made steak for breakfast. You were down at your office working on that Osaka deal.”

“And when I came back, I saw the plate on the table.”

“You’re acting like the baby isn’t the only thing that’s yours.”

I walk out because it doesn’t feel like Errol needs a response.

Thirty minutes later, Errol sends us a text that the food is done. “We’ll read more about Captain Jack later,” I inform the baby. She gurgles happily. I’ll have to take her out on the yacht. Seems to me that she likes the water.

Addison appears at the dining room table freshly washed with her hair in a ponytail. She looks like someone’s teenage crush. Mine.

Fuck.

“Do you want me to hold her?” Addison says, innocently unaware of what’s going on in my head.

“No, I got her.” The baby is tiny, barely bigger than my hand. In the papers the nanny agency sent over, there was a section there about how hitting on your nanny is a prosecutable offense. I don’t think that’s true, but there’s a power dynamic here that I shouldn’t take advantage of. I shut off the spigot of caveman thoughts and snuggle the babe close. “You got some ideas for a name? How did your mom come up with yours?”

“Mom just liked it. I think it was off the list of popular girl names that were unusual. How about you? Is Carr short for something?”

“My dad’s side is Scottish. He wanted to name me Cameron. Mom didn’t like that, so they settled on Carr. I think the baby looks like a flower. What do you think of flower names? Violet, Peony, Rose, Lily?”

“Those are all pretty.”

“What would you name your little girl?”

“You can’t steal her name,” Errol squawks. He removes the salad plates and sets the steaks down.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that people have names in their heads for their future families, and asking them what those names are and giving them to your own children is breaking an unwritten social rule.”

“I’ve never heard of that rule before.” I hand the baby off to Addison so I can cut up the meat.

“It’s because you're a bachelor.” Errol sniffs.

“You’re a bachelor and twice my age.”

“I pay attention to things.”

“Is this from one of those dramas you watch all day?”

“Are you judging me?”

“Before you answer, remember he feeds us,” Addison warns.

I hold up my hands. “No judgment. How about Violet?”

“It’s pretty,” Addison agrees. “And it has strength.”

“Great. She can have my mom’s middle name.” I hold a fork full of steak in front of Addison’s mouth. Her lips part and accept the food. It’s damnably erotic. Errol coughs into his fist. I send him a glare.

“The steak is perfectly cooked,” Addison says.

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