The Baby Contract. Barbara Dunlop

Troy. And she was determined to stick with Troy.

      She forced herself to keep from grimacing as she brought the baby’s gummy face to her shoulder. Her tank top would wash, and so would her skin. She patted him gently on the back, surprised by the warmth of his little body and by the softness. He felt as though he didn’t have a single bone or muscle.

      His cries changed to intermittent sobs.

      “Let’s get going,” the woman said anxiously. “This won’t last long.”

      Mila refused to make eye contact with Troy, knowing he had to be angry at her pushiness. Instead, she marched past him, heading down the short hall to the doors at the end.

Two

      Two women had invaded Troy’s apartment, for two completely different but equally frustrating reasons. Well, maybe not equally frustrating, since he could get rid of Mila Stern in short order, just as soon as she put the baby down. Though, for the moment, the baby was quiet in her arms, and he was hesitant to mess with that.

      Kassidy was bent over his sofa sorting through her shoulder bag, pulling out diapers, flannel blankets and tiny socks.

      “He likes you,” she said to Mila, straightening with a bottle in her hand.

      “He seems like a sweetheart,” said Mila.

      Something pinged on Troy’s radar. Mila’s expression was perfectly neutral, and there was no reason for her to lie about something as innocuous as a baby. But for some reason his suspicions were up again.

      “He can be a terror,” said Kassidy. “Especially at night. It’s going to take Troy a while to get used to all the crying.”

      “Hello?” Troy didn’t like the sound of that.

      The guest rooms were on the opposite side of the apartment from the master bedroom, but the kid seemed to have quite a set of lungs.

      “I’m Kassidy Keiser, by the way,” Kassidy said to Mila.

      Mila looked surprised. She glanced to Troy. “So, you two are...married?”

      “No,” they both barked out simultaneously.

      Drake let out a cry of surprise.

      “Kassidy is my sister,” said Troy.

      Mila’s glance went to Drake. “So the baby isn’t yours?”

      “No!” This time Troy beat Kassidy to the punch.

      “I live in Jersey City,” said Kassidy, taking Drake from Mila’s arms. “That is, I normally live in Jersey City. But I’ve relocated for a while. Me and Drake. We’ll be staying here with Troy until things calm down.” She sat down on the sofa and popped the bottle into Drake’s mouth.

      The baby dug into the meal, his little hands clasping and unclasping as he sucked and swallowed.

      Mila took an armchair, perching on the edge to watch. “What things need to calm down?” she asked Kassidy, concern evident in her voice.

      Troy started to protest. Mila wasn’t a guest. She had no business engaging his sister in chitchat while his lunch hour ticked away. He had a busy afternoon coming up, and he didn’t intend to spend it starving.

      “Or until I get used to it all, I suppose,” said Kassidy. “And used to him.” She smiled down at Drake, smoothing a lock of his dark hair. “Isn’t he adorable?”

      “You could have put him up for adoption,” said Troy.

      The baby was adorable. There had to be dozens if not hundreds of stable, loving couples who would want him. Kassidy was in absolutely no position to take on an infant. She could barely take care of herself.

      But her eyes flashed angrily at him. “I told you, I promised.”

      “What a thing to say,” Mila cut in, adding her own glare at Troy. “What kind of support is that? This is your nephew.”

      “He’s not my nephew,” said Troy.

      “He will be,” said Kassidy. “Legally, morally and in every other way there is. You better get used to it, Troy. Because little Drake here isn’t going anywhere. Not anywhere.”

      Now Mila just looked confused.

      “She’s adopting him,” said Troy, wondering why he bothered to explain. It was past time for Mila to leave.

      “Where are his birth parents?” Mila asked Kassidy.

      “His mother passed away,” said Kassidy, her tone going soft and her hand smoothing over Drake’s head for a second time. “She was a good friend.”

      The baby was blissfully oblivious to the discussion swirling around him. His hunger was being satiated, and that was all he cared about. Troy felt a pang of jealousy and then realized he could make that same decision for himself.

      “I need to get lunch,” he announced, checking the time on his wrist.

      He had less than thirty minutes before he had to be back downstairs. The Bulgarians had hired Pinion Security for an important upcoming UN reception, and he needed to get the team set up.

      “Help yourself to whatever you want,” he told Kassidy. He dug into his pocket for a key card. “This will get you into the exterior doors as well as this apartment. You should know there are cameras all over the building.” His gaze moved to Mila. “We can track anybody, anywhere, at any time.”

      She obviously understood. “You knew I was coming.”

      “We saw you hiding from Vegas on the elevator. We were curious.”

      “Sneaky,” she said.

      “Seriously? Me, sneaky?”

      “You could have said something.”

      “Why would I say something?”

      Kassidy’s gaze was ping-ponging back and forth between them.

      “I only wanted to talk to you,” said Mila.

      “And you did. And we’re done.” He gestured to the apartment’s front door. “The control room will be watching you all the way out. So don’t try anything.”

      “Who are you?” asked Kassidy.

      Mila looked at Kassidy, but obviously hesitated over her answer.

      “I thought you were his girlfriend,” Kassidy continued as she lifted Drake to her shoulder and began patting his back.

      “I’m applying for a job,” said Mila.

      “She means she’s stalking me,” said Troy.

      “Welcome to the club,” Kassidy said to Troy.

      “Someone’s stalking you?” Mila was quick to pick up on the inference.

      “I don’t know,” Kassidy answered. “Maybe. I have these fans.” She gave a little burst of laughter. “I guess if you’re not dating Troy—”

      “I’m not dating Troy.”

      “—then you wouldn’t know I was a singer. I’m a singer. And I have some fans. Not a whole bunch of fans, but enough. And some of them have been sending me emails. They’re a bit creepy.”

      Mila looked to Troy.

      He gave a shrug to indicate he wasn’t unduly alarmed. “I’ve forwarded copies to a profiler.”

      “Can I see them?” asked Mila.

      “Sure,” said Kassidy.

      “No, she can’t,” said Troy. “She doesn’t work here, and they’re none of her business.”

      “Why doesn’t she work here?” asked