Page 71 of Paging Dr. Douche

I stare in absolute awe at the small child writhing and crying against the chest of the woman I love.

"Oh, my sweet baby. I love you. I love you so much." Nyla says through her sniffles. The pain of her labor, already a distant memory.

I steady my shaking hands and cut the umbilical right as the nurses take the baby and start to clean him up.

"You did it, baby. Thank you. I love you. I'm so happy." I lean down and kiss Nyla everywhere I can reach. She’s so precious to me.

"I can't believe it. He's here, finally." She laughs, and more tears stream down her cheeks. "I love you too, Nic. You and that little boy, you're my everything." She says, and I fight not to break down.

Who knew joy could be this overwhelming.

Once baby Elias is clean and has nursed for a few minutes, I see Nyla starting to drift to sleep. Her body is tired and there are a mountain of people waiting for a peek at the little bundle. I wrap him up tightly and walk out into the nursery. More than two dozen people are there waiting at the glass. All of them waiting for him.

Nyla's father and her brothers. Ardi, Megan and the nurses from the hospital. Tripp. My father and surprisingly enough my mother. She and Nyla still aren't on the best of terms, but when she realized that I'd rather cut her out of my life than leave Nyla, she started to come around. It'll be a long time before they share recipes and stories, but not all hope is lost.

I can't hear them through the glass, but based on the tears and the wide smiles on their faces, I can tell they're excited. I glance at my father, who mouths the words, "Good job, son."

I didn't do this, Nyla did. That world wind of a woman came into my life and pulled my perfect rug from under me, and I'm grateful that she did.

Leaning down to kiss little Elias' head, I whisper in a soothing voice, "You see all those people out there, that's your family. When you get a little older, you're going to have so much fun with them. Whatever you do, don't play poker with your uncles, okay. I don't want to have to explain to your mother why you have tie-dyed hair."

Elias fusses a little and I return to the hospital room to see Nyla sitting up and waiting for us.

"There goes my boys." She puts her arms out, and I bring Elias to her. She grabs hold of me and kisses me, before she focuses on our son.

"Hey buddy, what's daddy been out there telling you, huh? I've got some good stories for you. It started on Halloween..." She goes on to tell my son the embarrassing story of her first prank, and I can do nothing but shake my head and laugh.

Oh, how I love this woman.

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1. percy

The drive back to the office is quick, probably because I’m on autopilot. That little slip of a woman is trying to blackmail me for an interview.

In all my years I’ve never heard of something like this. Sure newspapers offer to pay, others will send in spies—women trying to loosen my tongue. However, I’ve never had a reporter come up with threatening to blackmail me all on their own.

I walk into my large office and turn on the lights, illuminating the large area. I’m pent up. Frustrated that Ian has inadvertently gotten me into a situation where I have to give up my privacy or let my business take a hit.

I’m sure that those close to me would know that I’m not on drugs or funding some local drug dealer, but if that video did get out those that don’t know me well may get the wrong impression. In my line of business impression is everything. Sponsors would pull out and contracts would fall through the cracks, this could be a fucking catastrophe.

“God dammit!” I slam my hand down on my desk and try to take a few deep breaths. I can’t give in to her demands, but it feels like I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I’d rather her run a fucking biography than associate me with drugs.

How the hell did someone like her get the upper hand on me? My mind wanders back to the night's events and I can’t help but smile slightly. When I saw her walking into Keg Gardens I was drawn to her body. She’s small, but her curves are in all the right places. Her hips sway slightly and have a bit of a bounce to them. Her top wasn’t very revealing but from the way her breasts were pressed against the fabric I can tell she’s a nice size. She wears glasses and her brown doe eyes give away everything she’s thinking.

She can’t be much more than 5’3” and against my 6’2” it’s comical when she’d tried to intimidate me. I could just toss her over my shoulder and walk away. When she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to stare me down I nearly laughed in her face. If I pluck her hard enough she’d go flying.

Even if she’s a bit skittish there’s one thing that I can tell by just looking at her. That girl isn’t going to back down just because I tell her to. She’s going to be a pain in my fucking ass until I could figure out a way to get rid of her.

I’ve spent so long trying to make sure the public doesn’t see my family's dirty laundry and here this little brown eyed annoying woman is going to blow it all up. I can’t stand it. I won’t let it happen on my watch.

My eyes scan over my perfectly decorated office. The full wall bookshelf, the floor to ceiling windows, even the artwork that my father curated—all of it on the verge of being lost.

It would be fine.

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