“Okay, good.” Tamara took the first easy breath she’d had since she’d stepped into Flint’s office. “I found out today why my mom and dad wanted me home so badly. Dad needs my help at Owens Investments. Someone’s stealing from him and he suspects it might be Flint Collins. I’m working as an efficiency expert for him as a cover so I can have access to all the company files and employees, to stick my nose anywhere I want, to see if I can find some kind of proof for Dad to take to the police.”
“Why doesn’t he hire a detective?”
“Because right now only his accountant knows. If word gets out that there’s something untrustworthy going on in the company, his investors will take off like birds flying south for the winter.”
“How sure is he that Collins is his guy?”
“The evidence is stacked against him at the moment. But it’s all hearsay and circumstantial.”
“And he’s a new dad?”
“I’ll let him fill you in on the details. But, Mal? Whatever he’s doing in his business life, this baby... She’s only three days old. If ever a baby needed you, it’s her. Even more so if it turns out her dad’s involved in criminal activity. I felt you had to know, in case something comes down and there’s some reflection on your business.”
Not too long ago, a woman had showed up at Mallory’s day care claiming that one of the kids was the woman’s two-year-old son, who’d been kidnapped. Things had been rough going there for several weeks. And then the woman’s story turned out to be true. That had all taken place before Tamara had returned from Boston, but she’d heard about it over the phone.
“No one can blame a newborn baby for anything. But I’ll be careful not to let him see the books,” she said with a chuckle.
Tamara smiled, too. An easy smile. One that felt natural. Her breath came more easily, too. She’d known she could count on Mallory.
And maybe, if Flint wasn’t the thief, he and Mallory could make a family for that precious baby—
No, he had a girlfriend. Some powerful lawyer.
Because he was hedging all his bets as a smart investor would? In case he needed a top-notch lawyer?
She couldn’t help wondering, as she ended her call with Mallory, what that rich girlfriend, who’d apparently been responsible for a change in Flint’s spending habits, or at least his driving and vacation habits, thought of having a convict’s baby to raise?
And then berated herself for being so catty.
The other woman was probably perfectly wonderful. She might already be making plans for the baby’s care and Flint had just taken Mallory’s contact information to give them options.
In any case, it was none of her business.
Yes, she thought again. Flint Collins and his new life were absolutely none of her business. She’d simply been the one to walk in on his intense day.
She looked back at her computer screen.
Focus. That was all it took. Focus.
Chapter Seven
“Bathing your newborn baby with the umbilical cord stump still attached is fine,” the pediatrician in the video confirmed. “There is no great risk that the stump will get infected. Take care to make sure that the area is thoroughly dried.”
Holding his sleeping sister in the crook of one arm, Flint paused his continued scouring of articles and videos on the internet—all from verified, legitimate pediatric sources and nationally recognized clinics and associations. He found this video particularly informative, considering his current dilemma.
“It is not necessary to bathe your baby every day,” she continued. “Up to three times a week, for the first year, is fine. As long as you’re quick and thorough with diaper changes and burp cloths, you’re cleaning the critical areas often enough. Daily bathing is not recommended, since it can dry out the baby’s skin.”
Okay. Good. He didn’t have to deal with a bath his first night. Her first night with him.
He could have hired a nurse to help out with this transition stage, but hadn’t really even considered doing so. He’d always taken care of himself—and his mother when he could. He’d take care of Diamond, too. The baby wasn’t going to be shoved off on strangers anytime that he was available to care for her. As he’d been so many times.
“Dodged a bullet on that one, Diamond Rose,” he said, glancing at the sleeping baby. He’d been doing that a lot, all day. Glancing at her. He’d even caught himself staring at her a time or two.
It was just so hard to believe she was there. His flesh and blood.
A rush of love he couldn’t have imagined swamped him. He acknowledged it. And moved on. He’d learned a long time ago to move on when it came to those kinds of emotions.
A guy had to cope, to push forward. To accomplish.