Chapter 3
BEAU
The piercing cry of little Bastian rouses me immediately. There is something particularly shrill about the cry of a newborn. All part of evolution to get us moving quickly, but damn does it hurt the eardrums. It does its job though, and I roll out of bed to dart past the bathroom into the nursery.
This is the third time Bastian has woken me tonight, but at least third time’s the charm—meaning a glance at the clock tells me it is morning now and even an almost normal hour to start the day.
Having a live-in nanny is the smart play for a new parent who can afford it, because you get all the cute bits, and the help gets the insomnia and gross-out parts.
I don’t mind. I was always planning to go through this. It’s good practice.
For something that might never happen to me for real now, but… that meltdown is for another day.
I scoop Bastian into my arms to check first for the most likely culprit of his screaming—a dirty diaper. I change him, but since he is only wet for now, I don’t change his clothes yet. Baby’s first at-home bath can wait until after the day’s first poop.
Bastian is a little less squished and red in the face being on his second full day of life.
He is so tiny and cute. I’d guess six to seven pounds, like a small cat, but so much more delicate.
He has typical baby blues for now, but as he grows, I imagine he’ll keep a bright blue eye color just like his dad.
I don’t know anything about the mother, other than that she didn’t want custody.
I can’t imagine. If that little girl had been mine…
Nope. Not going there. I’m not the father, and nothing is going to change that. I hope I get the chance to be a father someday. For now, it’s not so bad living vicariously through this cute potato.
“Come on, little Bastian,” I coo as I take him into the kitchen. Although that impromptu nickname makes me snicker. Little Sebastian is the pony from Parks and Recreation. Arik really did not think this name through, but I love it.
Bastian is definitely hungry. He calmed after being picked up and changed, but he’s already fussing again by the time I place him in the kitchen bouncer.
One of my tasks yesterday was making sure that basinets, bouncers, and swings are in every room I think we’ll most frequent.
Arik bought enough of them. Besides the crib in the nursery, there is a smaller crib in his room, I assume preparing for times when I won’t be around, which is smart and really sweet that he isn’t just sticking to the idea of always being a floor away from his son.
There are also two smaller basinets, one I put in the living room and one in Arik’s office, and two bouncers and one swing. The kitchen was the obvious place for a bouncer, the swing is in the sitting room, and I put the last bouncer in my room.
I haven’t fully adjusted yet to it being my room.
It is way too nice, just like the rest of the penthouse.
It has a king-sized platform bed, a desk, a little sitting area with chair and ottoman beside the bookshelves, since my room is also a library, and yes, has those same floor-to-ceiling windows.
They have electronic black-out shades, but it’s still daunting whenever they’re open to look out and just see city like I could step right out into oblivion.
Arik smartly turned the bedroom with the least amount of windows into the nursery, though those have black-out shades too.
All the neutral stylishness of the rest of the penthouse fades into cozy cuteness in there.
It’s still neutral of anything gendered in a mix of lavender hues and sunny yellow, and mostly animal themed with, well, ponies, which makes me giggle again thinking of Little Sebastian, as well as cows, ducks, kitties, and puppies.
The wall the crib is against has a tree painted on it as if budding purple spring blossoms hang directly over Bastian when he's sleeping. It sort of does for real, since a mobile of flowers and stars hangs over the crib. It’s all very fairy-like and sweet, a totally charming and soothing room to be in.
Arik probably hired a decorator.
The spring feel of the nursery contrasts with how Bastian is a post-Halloween baby. I wonder when he’ll get to experience baby’s first snowfall.
“Almost ready.” I reach over to bounce the bouncer, hopefully staving off more of his screaming. It mostly works, keeping his impatient complaints to mild fussing. I want to make a big enough batch of formula to have extras in the fridge all day.
“Oh!” I hear the exclamation from the other entrance and look over to catch the briefest flash of skin before Arik closes his robe. I hardly saw more than a blur, but… it was a nice blur. “My apologies. I forgot my new living arrangement for a moment.”
I am really happy I wore my robe with a T-shirt and sweats beneath instead of going commando—like he is apparently. “Which part did you forget? Me living here or that you have a baby?”
“Both.” Arik sniffs the air in apparent appreciation that I already made coffee but heads for the bouncer first. Again, I am reminded that despite all evidence that could have pointed to the contrary, he didn’t hire me to get out of being a parent, just to have help.
“Good morning, Sebastian. I mean Bastian. Unless I want to redecorate that nursery as under the sea themed, and I worked so hard on the first iteration.” He bends to kiss Bastian’s forehead and bounces him a little like I had, which immediately halts any remaining fussing.
Wait, does that mean Arik decorated the nursery himself? I really need to stop assuming things with him.
Bastian shouldn’t be able to even see colors yet, but he does seem to look at Arik.
Maybe it’s the contrast of Arik’s hair, so much blacker than anything else in this kitchen.
He looks really good in a red silk robe with that black hair tousled.
He is impossibly handsome whether in sleek business attire or with a just out of bed look.
“—too often, did he?”
“Hm?” I have several bottles ready, one I was about to check the temperature of, but I seem to have frozen while staring at Arik’s calves. Thinking of the flash of thigh I’d seen and, um… other endowments is not helping my concentration.
“I said…” Arik speaks slow and deliberate with the tease of a smile on his lips. “I hope he didn’t wake you during the night too often, did he?”
“Oh. Twice before now, but it goes with the territory.”
“My insulation is doing its job then. I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Lucky you.”
Arik smirks.
“I’m not complaining! It’s my job. Given you’re the one going to board meetings all day, I can be the exhausted one. I’ll be napping a lot of the times when he is though.”
“I would expect no less.”
I finish checking the formula’s temperature, and since it is cool enough and Arik is here, I hold out the bottle to him. “Did you want to do the honors—”
“Late, late, late! Damn it, Arik, why do you always let me sleep—oh!” A gorgeous woman, like runway model with a flawless body and long auburn hair that she is trying to brush out with her fingers, appears from the same direction Arik entered from, barely dressed in what looks like hastily put on clothing from last night.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you had other company. ”
“Sandra, this is my nanny, Beau,” Arik explains with hardly any fluster. I’m flustered! This must be the woman he made plans with last night. He was home between work and a late dinner, but I didn’t notice what time he—they—came in afterward.
“Nanny?” She scrunches her nose before noticing the baby in the bouncer. “Right! This is it, huh? Cute. Naturally,” she adds with a bat of her eyes. “Gotta go, babe. Bye!” She kisses her fingers and offers Arik a wave—and me a quick smile—before hurrying past me toward the front door.
No kiss on the cheek or lips for Arik. No acknowledgement that “it” is actually his son. Just, well… the tail end of a booty call. Which is fine! Consenting adults can do what they want. I’m not jealous that it’s been half a year since I got any.
And Arik was getting said any right above my bed.
“My apologies again,” Arik addresses my slackened jaw. “I should have warned you we might have a guest. I hope this happening on occasion won’t be a problem?”
“Of course not! It’s your house.” He can bring home whatever floozies he wants.
That’s unfair. Casual sex is not a bad thing. I’m sex positive! I’ve just never been in the same house while someone was having sex that didn’t include me. I am aware my parents exist and all my siblings are older, but I prefer to not think about that.
It doesn’t have anything to do with the weird little gut wrench I’m experiencing. I’m just jealous of Arik getting some while I’m not and probably won’t be any time soon. I’m not jealous of the knockout.
Definitely not.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Arik says, having poured himself a half cup of black coffee that he downs impressively fast. “Then I can take Bastian off your hands for a while so you can do the same. I’ll be quick so I can help finish feeding him, but don’t make him wait on me.”
“Sure. Yeah! Sounds great.” I’m glad Arik is being proactive about bonding time. It’s important during these early days—or so all the baby books said that I read during the four months when I thought I was about to be a father.
Arik finishes his last gulp of coffee and leaves the mug by the coffee maker, I assume to have more later.
When he whirls around to head back upstairs, the flutter of his robe reveals a high-cut flash of thigh again.
If his calves are nice, then those thighs are like something from a Greek sculpture.