Page 3 of Baby Contract

“No offense, Carr, but I wouldn’t trust your cousin with a pet hamster, let alone a child.” Ben squeezes my shoulder. “I think you’re stuck for the time being.”

“I don’t like this.” The baby gurgles. “Not you. I’m not talking about you,” I assure the kid.

“She can’t understand you,” Errol says.

“You don’t know that.” I shift away from Errol.

“Oh hell, you’re a goner.”

Chapter Two

ADDISON

You’d think by now I’d be used to being around wealthy people, having worked for the Conrads for three years, but it still makes me uncomfortable. I think it was more the Conrads. They were always more laid-back, and Claire hadn’t come from money. Both Claire and her husband were very successful in their own right. Her husband had grown up in a wealthy family, but not her. She fought to get where she was.

She was a lawyer, and her husband worked for some fancy company as a high-powered CEO. When Claire got pregnant with the twins, it had been a surprise for her. She was in over her head, I recall her saying. The woman could rip a man apart on the stand in court, but two crying babies sent her into a panic.

But in true Claire fashion, she was a natural and kicked ass at being a mom. I still helped where I could, and I loved the twins. Then her husband got a job offer in Europe he couldn’t turn down, and Claire was ready to leave the legal world behind, wanting to try motherhood full time.

It was hard to tell them goodbye. I’d grown so close to the kids at that point that I knew it was going to be a big adjustment for me not to have them around. I'd never really felt a part of a family before, but with them, I had for a few years. Of course I knew they weren’t really mine, but it was still nice to pretend.

Claire had begged me to go with them, but I couldn’t. At the time, I was wrapping up the last semester of college, which they had helped me pay for. Plus, Claire didn’t really need me anymore. I know they adored me, but I didn’t want a pity job.

“Can I help you, miss?” the security guard behind the counter asks.

“I have an appointment with the Remingtons,” I tell him.

All the positions I pursued were for live-in nannies. When I was with the Conrads, they’d given me their guesthouse, which was way better than the dorm I’d been living in. I’d moved back into the dorms for my last semester, but now that I’ve graduated, I’ve been living in a hotel. I was worried that if I got an apartment, I might have to break the lease, but now I’m going on almost two months of living out of a suitcase. Not that I have much stuff anyway, but still. It’s gotten old really quickly.

“Identification.” I pull it out of my purse and hand it over. I’m not so sure I’d want to live in a condo or penthouse. Perhaps I've grown accustomed to living in a guesthouse. It gave me a sense of my own space. Living in a building might feel like we’re on top of each other.

I shake the thought from my head. I don’t even have the job.

“Mr. Remington has cleared you to come up.” I take my ID back from him.

“Mr. Remington?” I follow the man over to the elevator. “I thought I was meeting his wife,” I ask as if this man would know. He's just the building's front-desk security.

Of course he doesn’t answer me; instead, he waves his arm for me to step inside the elevator. I have to admit, it’s the fanciest elevator I’ve ever been in. There aren’t even buttons to press. The security guy proceeds to follow me in. He keys in a number before stepping back off the elevator.

"The door will open into Mr. Remington's home," he tells me as the doors start to close. “He’s not married.”

“But—” It’s too late. The doors are closed. I get an uneasy feeling when I step off the elevator.

“Miss Parker.” A man in a suit greets me. I swear I know him from somewhere. He reminds me of one of the slimy stock brokers you see in movies.

“Mr. Remington.” I give him a smile and take his outstretched hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“Now, Addison. You’ll hurt my feelings.” He doesn’t let my hand go. That sense of unease grows. I hate the way he said my first name. “This isn’t the first time we’ve met.”

Then it clicks. Robert Remington. I met him once when the Conrads threw a holiday party last year. He’d hit on me. I turned him down. He’d been aggressive and handsy.

“Right.” I have to force myself to keep a smile on my lips. What I really want to do is hightail it the heck out of this place, but I remain professional. “I didn’t know you had children.”

“Not yet, but soon.” I pull harder on my hand, and he finally lets it go.

“Your wife is pregnant?” I hedge, trying to keep the conversation on the reason I’m here. The doorman said he wasn’t married, but there could be a girlfriend around here.

“No wife, I’m still single.” He winks at me.

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