Page 19 of My Addiction
Almost.
The building towers over the others around it, all glass and steel and clean, sharp lines. It stands out from the surrounding buildings with their brick fronts and older stonework. This place practically screams money. Power too.
The ground floor is lined with expensive-looking shops and a café with giant windows and people sitting outside drinking drinks that probably cost more than an entire meal should. Because apparently rich people can’t survive without their triple-foam, caramel, whatever-the-hell macchiatos.
Ronan pulls into a parking spot that is marked reserved. We are surrounded by cars worth more than I will ever make in two to three years working eighty hours a week. I suddenly become painfully aware of my worn jeans, my scuffed shoes, and the spit-up stain on Ollie’s shirt. I grab a couple of wet wipes from my bag before getting out of the car. I want to clean as much of Ollie’s mess as I can before it dries or gets ground into the leather seat seams.
When I open the rear door, it is worse than I thought. Ollie has decided that it is a good idea to dump the bag into his lap. Oh, the joys of a one-year-old. I start picking up what is left of the Goldfish and put them back into the bag.
“Just grab the baby and leave that to Chuck.” I look back over my shoulder at Ronan.
“Chuck?”
“Yeah, Chuck. That sort of thing is what he gets paid to do.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder to point at a guy behind him. He is pushing a cart toward us, loaded with cleaning supplies.
“You have a car cleaner on staff?” I ask, and Ronan just shrugs. How is this my life all of a sudden? I grab Ollie, who automatically reaches for Ronan. I try to shift him onto my other hip, farther away from Ronan. This only causes Ollie to squirm even more. Ronan looks at Ollie’s outstretched hands — his clean hands. The way he studies Ollie, you would think he is trying to solve quantum physics. Then he moves to take him from me.
“Oh, you don’t have to carry him.” Ollie settles against Ronan immediately, like he belongs there.
“Well, one of us does. Have you seen him walk? It would take all night to get inside. He has very short legs.”
Chapter 9
Ronan
Ollie drops his head onto my shoulder the second I take him from Colton. A moment later, I hear it. That wet sucking sound. He’s sucking his thumb again. I take a slow breath and start running code through my head to distract myself from the fact that there is definitely spit soaking into my jacket right now. How is there this much saliva in such a small person? And why can’t it stay inside his mouth where it belongs?
The elevator feels impossibly slow. I know I’m going to have to get used to this if I want to keep Colton. But dear God, the spit.
By the time the elevator finally opens into my penthouse, I’m almost relieved. Mom said she made sure most of the place was kid-friendly. When I stepped out earlier to arrange for Colton’s things to be brought over, I asked her why she turned the conference room into a playroom. Apparently, now that she’s getting older, she wants to be a grandmother. She thinks Ollie is the fastest route to that. Since I plan on keeping both Colton and Ollie, she’s not wrong.
“Damn, you have a really nice home. So many nice breakable and stainable things,” Colton says.
“Yes, there are,” I agree.
He whirls around to face me. “You know, if you are worried about your things, we could have just stayed put.” He is frowning at me. I don’t like it.
“I don’t give a shit about things.”
“But you just agreed with me.” Now he is not just frowning, but his eyebrows are furrowed.
“Yes, I did. Because many things can be broken or stained. Mom assured me, though, that it was safe for Ollie. He shouldn’t be able to get to the breakable stuff.” I’m confused. “Do you not like it?”
“Are you kidding? This place is gorgeous.” Colton seems to relax, or at least his face does. He still isn’t smiling. I need a glimpse of his dimples.
“Can you take Ollie? I want to get dinner ready. It’s 6:00, and we eat at 6:30.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he says as he takes Ollie from me. “You said you had my stuff brought here? I can put him in his pack and play.”
I have no idea what he is talking about, so I lead him to the guest room on the first floor. “I had them put everything in here. Mom said that until I get a gate for the stairs, Ollie needs to be on the main floor.”
“How long do you think it will be till the company apartment is ready for us? I don’t think you should buy anything or make any changes to your apartment. We won’t be here that long,” he says as he picks up a long, square thing from the floor.
I take it from him and return to the living room. “It’ll take as long as it takes.” As long as it takes for him to understand that he belongs here with me. I place the pack and whatever it is on the floor. “Now what?” I point at it.
“Now, we set it up. Undo the Velcro straps — that’s the base.”
I follow his instructions until a baby cage is formed.
