“It’s up to the parents, but if asked my opinion, I’d say I’m a strong proponent of it,” Sam answered. “My grandma used to say letting babies cry helped strengthen their lungs. I know it’s not medically proven, but I think some of the old-fashioned methods work wonders.”
Catherine’s spine went ramrod straight as he spoke, just as I’d expected. I had to hold back a smirk. Sam had just walked into a pile of shit and didn’t even know it.
After that, the interview wrapped up fairly quickly. I let Sam out of my house, and by his expression, he’d realized he wouldn’t be getting a call back.
Josephine was happily kicking around on her play mat when I returned, Catherine pacing the carpet around her.
“Strengthen their lungs?” She threw her arms out and groaned. “He seemed so perfect, then he started spouting baby advice from the fifties. If I had let him keep talking, he probably would have said car seats weren’t necessary since his grandma survived without one.”
“There’s still the option of letting Josephine sleep in my drawer.”
She pinned me with a hard glare. “How did you know he was going to answer like that?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Instinct. It’s my job to study people and discern who they are through their mannerisms and the subtext of what they’re saying. He didn’t strike me as a person who stayed up to date on the latest infant studies.”
She groaned again then walked straight into me, her head colliding with my chest. “If the next nanny is terrible, I won’t be able to come back. Daniel is going to have to stay on longer.”
Catherine was standing a breath away from me, her forehead on my collarbone, and I wasn’t sure what to do. This wasn’t like last week when instinct had driven me to hold her as she fell apart. She was keeping it together now, though frustration rose from her like heat waves off a summer sidewalk.
“Do you want me to hug you?”
“Yes, please.” She curled her arms around my middle. Mine circled around her shoulders, pulling her close. She molded against me, pressing her cheek over my thudding heart. Catherine was as soft as she looked and fit well in my arms.
My lines were firm. I never crossed them with employees, no matter who they were, and for most of Catherine’s tenure, I’d kept them fortified. But they’d crumbled months ago, probably when I’d felt Josephine moving inside her, and we kept moving farther and farther away from the rubble left behind.
This was uncharted territory, but there was no pulling back. Not for me. Not anymore. Whether I went forward or stayed where I was had yet to be seen. Once Catherine was back in the office next week, hopefully it would become clear.
“What’s the next nanny’s name?” I asked.
“Fredericka, but her résumé says she goes by Freddie.”
“Hmmm.” I stroked along her spine. “Freddie taking care of Joey. I don’t know, that’s auspicious. I have a good feeling about Freddie.”
She tilted her head back. Some of her panic had ebbed. “That’s a really good point.” She shoved my arm. “Have I been making you uncomfortable nursing without a cover all this time? You never said anything, but you seemed horrified when Sam was here.”
“No. If I’m uncomfortable, I rectify the situation.”
“Then what was your problem?”
“He was looking at you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “He wasn’t looking at me inappropriately. We were talking to each other—”
“Trust me, Catherine. I know when a man is interested, and Sam was. If you’d hired him, he would have been a problem.”
She pulled back, huffing. “I can’t even feed my child without men falling all over themselves? You don’t look.” When I didn’t reply, she leaned in, studying my expression. “Do you?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m human, not cyborg.”
Her mouth fell open, forming an O. “You’ve looked at my boobs, Elliot?”
“A glance here and there.”
This was the most embarrassing moment of my life. Even more than when my mother showed up at my high school in pajamas demanding I show her how to change the batteries in the remote.
I should have picked up the skill of lying somewhere along the way, but I was my father’s son. Dishonesty wasn’t in my wheelhouse, and I looked down on those who thought the truth was theirs to stretch and mold at their whim.
Catherine snickered at my admission. “I can’t deny it. I’d probably look too.” Then she shoved my arm again. “So why’d you blame Sam for looking?”