My face cracks into a grin so wide it almost hurts. “MaeLynn,” I yell, as I shoot up out of my chair and run out of my office before sliding to a stop in front of my receptionist’s desk. My heart is racing faster and expanding more than it ever has before. I need to share this news with someone I know will be as happy about it as I am.
I inherited MaeLynn when I took over the company last year, and one thing I’ll never understand is how a woman so kindhearted put up with my father as long as she did. She would have retired last year, but that was before she learned I was taking over for my father. She was his assistant for over twenty years and during that time, MaeLynn had always acted like a grandmother to me. I guess that makes her like a great-grandmother to Lincoln. Not that you’d ever catch her looking grandmotherly, at least not in the traditional sense. The woman prides herself on her outrageous appearance and flawless, albeit incredibly colorful, makeup.
“MaeLynn. I need your help.” I can’t stop smiling and I’m sure I look a little wild-eyed due to the abundance of delirious excitement coursing through my veins.
I’m a dad. I can’t fucking believe it.
When I first read the letter Phoebe gave me, I was afraid to admit, even to myself, that this is the outcome I wanted. But it really was. After all, I almost proposed to Annabelle, a woman I barely knew and hadn’t been seeing very long, because I thought I was ready to start a family. And I guess I really was, considering I unknowingly fathered a child that very night with Phoebe.
Of course, now that I have that child, I have no idea what to do with him. I cringe at the memory of Phoebe laughing at me when she passed me Lincoln earlier at the lab, and I panicked. I may not have held him perfectly, but I think for my first time, it wasn’t too bad. At least I didn’t drop him. Plus, hearing Phoebe laugh again was worth the embarrassment I felt.
I shake my head and face MaeLynn, who looks up, her expertly made-up lips pursed in concern.
“Archer, honey. What’s wrong? You look…unhinged.”
The smile on my face grows impossibly larger. “Nothing is wrong, MaeLynn. Nothing at all. I have fantastic news. I have a baby.”
She cocks a disapproving eyebrow. “That’s not funny, Archer. You know how much I love babies.” Her voice quavers. “Don’t even joke about having a baby.”
“I’m not joking, MaeLynn.” I smile and hold my arms out, anticipating the hug that’s sure to come. “I have a baby.”
MaeLynn hops out of her chair and speed walks around her desk, only stopping when she has me wrapped in a tight hug. “Oh, honey. Congratulations. I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. When can I meet her? When is she due? Oh, lord. I need to get to work knitting a baby blanket.” She pushes me away and reaches back across her desk for a notepad and pen. “Let’s see. What colors should I use?” She taps the pen on her lower lip, getting bright pink lipstick on the cap.
I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm as I reach out and grab her hand. “MaeLynn, stop. I said I have a baby. As in, he’s already born. That call you put through a minute ago? That was my friend at CellSearch calling with the results of the paternity test. The woman, Phoebe, tracked me down after the Christmas party this year. We, uh, we spent the night together after last year’s party.”
She blinks her dark, spidery eyelashes at me, once, twice, three times, and a final fourth time, before she opens her mouth. Even then, nothing comes out, not before she blinks a few more times.
“Oh. Well,” she says before cracking a grin large enough to rival my own. “That makes things easier. What’s his name? What colors do you think he would like?”
I chuckle and pull her in for another hug. When I release her, I press a kiss to her forehead. “MaeLynn, you’re wonderful, you know that?”
She scoffs. “Pssh. Enough about me, kid. Tell me about this son of yours.”
“Okay, okay,” I say with a chuckle. “His name is Lincoln. He’s five months old and ohmygodMaeLynnyougottahelpmeIknownothingaboutbabies.” Despite my best intentions, sudden panic makes forces my words from my mouth in a high-pitched rush and has me grabbing MaeLynn by the shoulders. I clear my throat. “I mean, I know nothing about babies,” I say in a normal voice. “What do I do now? Can you help me?”
She grabs my cheeks and drags me down to kiss my forehead. Her pink lipstick sticks in the wrinkles of my forehead when I grimace, and she laughs when I wipe it with the back of my hand. “Of course, you big dummy. Let me make some calls and we’ll get it all sorted out.” She hurries around the desk and has her phone in her hand before her ass hits the chair. “Call the boys,” she says without looking up. “Tell them to meet you at your apartment in two hours. You go home now and wait.”
“Two hours? What the heck do you think you can do in two hours? And you want me to wait? For what?”
“You’d be surprised what a person can do when they know the right people,” she says, shooing me away with a wave of her hand. She presses the screen of her phone and lifts it to her ear. “Lana? It’s MaeLynn. I need a huge favor.”
I’ve been at my place for a little over an hour, waiting for some unknown surprise when security calls up from the lobby.
“Mr. Fade, I have a bunch of…people here who say they have a delivery for you. They said to tell you that MaeLynn sent them and that you’d know what that meant. Should I send them up?”
“Thank you, William. That would be great.”
My penthouse has elevator access, but it opens into a private lobby instead of directly into my apartment. I like it because it seems a little more secure, even though nobody gets into the elevator without one of the security guards letting them in. I suppose I feel better knowing that if someone were to make it on, they’d be stuck in a small, windowless lobby instead of getting access to my home. I do think I look like a pretentious dick occasionally for living in the penthouse, though.
A secure lobby isn’t protection against me carelessly letting a bunch of strangers into my home, however, a problem I only grasp when I open the door to an eclectic group of almost ten people. Men and women of all ages, shapes, and sizes have gathered in my lobby, a mountain of boxes and furniture stacked on the floor behind them.
An older woman steps forward and holds out her hand. “You must be Archer,” she says warmly. “I’m Lana. MaeLynn is a dear friend of mine. She called and told me you recently found out you’re a father. Congratulations. That’s so exciting.”
A murmur of congratulations comes from a few of the people behind her.
“Thanks?” I say, and she must read the confusion on my face.
“I run a baby boutique downtown. MaeLynn said you needed everything for a baby and asked if I would get everything together and have my team deliver.”
