Page 29 of Sweet Thing

“Well, it’s hard to fuck up.” I winced at swearing in front of the kid. In front of Adeline, who was my teammate’s daughter. Not that it made her a child, but she occupied a weird place in my psyche.

“You’re going to get through this, Lars. And speaking of getting through it …” She consulted the clipboard on which she’d made a shit-ton of notes because she was diligent like that. “If I had to pick, I’d say Janet was the best candidate.”

That was the last one. While I hadn’t paid complete attention to the questioning, I’d picked up on a vibe from her. She’d spent much of the interview trying to meet my gaze, and when it happened a couple of times, she’d push out her chest. Like I needed to know she had tits or something.

“She seemed … forward.”

“You want someone who’s sure and certain around the baby. This isn’t a job for wilting violets.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be fighting off the nanny either.”

She looked like I’d slapped her. “What does that mean?”

“Didn’t you see how she was kind of making eyes at me?”

Her lips parted. “Well, yes. But they all were, even the grandmotherly one. Shona.”

“The one who asked about ‘extra duties’—”

“And winked. Yeah.” Adeline laughed softly. “That got your attention.”

I shook my head. “Sorry if it looked like I wasn’t completely present. I was listening out for Her Majesty. Worried she might choke or something.”

“So you’re going to have some admirers. As long as they’re professional.”

Sure, but if they couldn’t stay professional throughout the interview, I didn’t hold out much hope for ongoing boundaries.

The warmer beeped and I extracted the bottle like I was dismantling a nuclear bomb. Out it came, without touching the sides. I wiped my brow.

“Need a napkin there, Doctor?”

That made me chuckle. Adeline had a dry sense of humor, much more deadpan than her dad. More like Elle.

I placed the bottle on the counter. “Every little thing seems fraught with peril. I get one thing wrong, and it’ll all come crashing down.”

“Catastrophizing is your go-to, it seems.”

Maybe. As a kid, I lived in fear of doing the wrong thing, upsetting the great Sven. Mistakes led to verbal put-downs, slaps, and worse.

Now I’d made a huge unforced error, fathering the child of a married woman, and I could hear Sven’s voice, my constant critic.Loser screws up again. Why am I surprised?

“Let’s get this princess fed, then.” I picked her up, and once satisfied she was comfortable, I nudged her tiny pink lips with the teat of the bottle. She latched on like a barnacle, which made me laugh.

“She knows who’s got the goods.” Adeline’s voice was soft and empathetic.

“What do you think I should do, Adeline?”

“About?”

Everything. But one thing at a time. “The nanny. Which one would work the best?”

“Probably Janet. You’re going to be too tired to sleep with her, so I wouldn’t worry about her making advances. Unless you come home and find her in your bed, then I guess all bets are off.”

I couldn’t help my surprise at such direct teasing and when I looked up from Mabel’s fierce suckling, I found a blushing Adeline.

“That’s kind of specific.”

“I don’t know why I—forget I even went there.”

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