Nine

FORD WENT STRAIGHT to Victoria’s place from the parking garage—still carrying his messenger bag—thinking his sister and niece would need to be rescued as fast as possible from the clutches of his cranky, meddlesome neighbor.

Victoria opened the door, looking every inch the high-powered lawyer in her sleek black suit. “Mr. Dixon. How nice of you to grace us with your presence,” she said faux-politely.

“I hear you’re harboring my sister. More of your apparent quest to be all up in my business, I take it?” His smile was as pleasant as hers, his words just as dry.

“Something like that.” She stepped back, giving him room to come inside.

He saw Nicole sitting on a couch in the living room, feeding Zoe, and could tell that she’d been crying.

Surprised, he shot Victoria a quick glance, and then headed over. “Nic. What happened?”

“Oh, you could say it’s been a bit of a rough day. But luckily, your neighbor here is a saint.”

Ford stole another look at Victoria, who had moved into the kitchen to give them space. Her rich, dark brown hair fell forward as she typed something on her cell phone.

A saint? Clearly, he was missing something.

First things first. “Are you and Zoe okay?” he asked Nicole.

“Why don’t we go to your place and talk?” she suggested. “I think we’ve intruded on Victoria for long enough.”

His big brother protective instincts went on high alert, hearing this reference to some “talk” he and Nicole needed to have. Still, she was right—they should wait until they were alone. “Sure. I can push the stroller, since you have Zoe.” He looked over at his niece, who gripped the bottle between her two tiny hands. Her head was turned as she drank, and she stared right at him with those big brown eyes.

Reaching over, he tickled her chest, getting her to smile and kick out her legs. “There’s my smile.”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “Of course she smiles for you. Is there any member of the female species who doesn’t adore you?”

From the kitchen, Victoria cleared her throat loudly. She looked over and gestured vaguely with an innocent smile. “Sorry. Must be dry in here.”

Ford threw her a look. Ha, ha.

Carrying Zoe, Nicole walked over to Victoria. “Thanks so much for letting us hang out while we waited.” She lowered her voice. “I’ll call you tomorrow, then, about the thing.”

His ears perked up. What thing? Something obviously was going on with his sister, and he didn’t like being out of the loop. But he stayed silent, holding back his questions until he and Nicole were alone.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.” Victoria brushed her finger against the back of Zoe’s hand. “Later, kiddo.”

Perhaps by reflex, the baby grabbed her finger.

“Aw, look at that. I think she likes you,” Nicole said.

“Of course she does. She’s obviously a very smart girl.” Victoria wagged her finger, comically shaking Zoe’s hand in good-bye. Then she caught Ford watching and blushed. Gently, she extricated her finger from the baby’s grip and walked in the direction of the front door.

He took that as his cue to leave.

Victoria held open the door for Nicole and Zoe, nodding in good-bye. Ford followed behind, pushing the stroller. He paused in the doorway and raised an eyebrow. “A saint?”

She gave him a sweet smile. “I believe the words you’re looking for are, ‘Thank you, Victoria.’”

Always with the sarcasm.

But on this occasion—as much as it killed him to admit it—she happened to be right. He had no idea what had transpired here between her and Nicole, but nevertheless, she’d taken in his sister and niece and for that . . . he owed her his gratitude.

Most unfortunately.

“Thank you, Victoria.”

She raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for the punch line, and then looked surprised when none came. Shifting uncomfortably in the doorway, she gave him a dismissive wave. “Whatever, you’re welcome.”

It was a funny thing, he thought. When she wasn’t being snarky or throwing barbs at him, there wasn’t anything to deflect his attention away from the fact that she was a beautiful woman. Like right then, the way her full lips curved upward as she peered up at him with those warm, chocolate-brown eyes.

“So, we’re just . . . hanging out here in the doorway, I guess?” she said.

Yep, so much for that moment.

*   *   *

ONCE INSIDE HIS place, Nicole took a seat on the couch and settled in to finish feeding Zoe. Ford bided his time, changing out of his work clothes and throwing on a T-shirt and jeans. When he came out of the bedroom, he found Zoe lying on a blanket in the middle of his living room while Nicole rinsed out the baby bottle in his sink.

He got down on the floor next to Zoe, shaking the giraffe toy above her chest. Her eyes widened and she reached for it, trying to grip it with her hands.

“You should’ve seen the meltdown she had at Victoria’s. It was pretty epic,” Nicole said from the kitchen.

Ford could easily believe it. The last time he’d been over at Nicole’s apartment she’d been trying something called “sleep training”—which, if all the crying and hollering was any indication, Zoe had been none too thrilled about. “Mom would probably tell you it’s payback. You weren’t exactly an easygoing baby, either.”

Nicole put the clean bottle into the diaper bag and sat down on the floor next to Ford and Zoe. “Have you talked to Mom this week?”

“I drove out and saw her yesterday afternoon.”

“How’s she doing?”

“You know Mom. Keeping herself busy. She gave me a box of Dad’s things that she thought I might like to have. She has one for you, too.” Ford had stashed his box in the closet, but hadn’t looked at it yet.

Wanting to get down to the business at hand, he nodded in the direction of Victoria’s place. “So? Want to tell me what was going on in there? Mom’s worried about you. We both are. I’ve been trying to reach you ever since the funeral.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Things are always so crazy, I feel like I never get a chance to catch my breath. Between balancing work and Zoe, I just . . .” Nicole swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I think I’m doing a terrible job at everything. Especially being a mom.”

Ford’s voice softened, seeing his sister cry. “Nic . . . that’s not true. Why didn’t you come to me earlier about this? You don’t have to stretch yourself so thin with work. I can help you out with money until things settle down.” He wasn’t rich, but he certainly made enough to help out his niece and sister.

“I know. But a temporary fix isn’t the solution. It’s not like you’re going to support Zoe forever—nor would I want you to. And it’s not just about the money, anyway.” She looked at him. “Obviously, I’ve been thinking a lot about Dad ever since the funeral. The things you said in your eulogy . . . it really hit me hard, hearing those stories. I spent so much time being angry with Dad, or fighting with him, or being resentful that he just couldn’t get his shit together, that I’d forgotten about a lot of those good moments. Like, remember how great he was with Zoe that first day he and Mom came to see her in the hospital? He held her practically the whole time, just talking to her and telling her stories about the days you and I were born. But instead of simply enjoying the moment, the whole time I kept thinking, ‘Why can’t he be this way all the time?’”

“I know.” The truth was, Ford had been thinking exactly the same thing that day at the hospital. He’d spent nearly his whole life only partly able to enjoy good moments like that with his dad, because he’d always been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Nicole looked down at her daughter, who was happily gumming the giraffe toy. “Zoe has a father out there. Maybe he’d be a good father, maybe he wouldn’t. But after losing Dad, I feel like I owe it to her to at least give her the chance to have some nice moments like that.”

Ford was all for making his sister’s ex-boyfriend accept financial responsibility for Zoe. Hell, he’d been pushing Nicole to sue the jerk for child support since the day Zoe had been born. But beyond that, for both his sister’s and Zoe’s sakes, he needed to be a voice of reason here. “He fled the state when you told him you were pregnant, Nic,” he said gently. “As good as your intentions are in wanting Zoe to have a relationship with him, it doesn’t sound like he’s exactly a stand-up guy. Financial responsibility is one thing, but you can’t make a man be a father.”

Nicole took a deep breath. “Okay. So, you have to promise that you won’t get all big brother judge-y when I tell you something about me and Zoe’s dad.”

He was a little offended by whatever she was implying. “Hey, give me some credit here. My best friend is a woman—I think I’m pretty damn enlightened when it comes to relationships and the female of the species. I promise you, nothing you say will be something I haven’t heard come out of Brooke’s mouth.”

“I got pregnant after a one-night stand, and I have no clue who my baby’s father is.”

Except that.

Nicole folded her arms across her chest, practically daring him to be shocked and appalled.

Ford exhaled—yes, fine, he didn’t deny that he needed at least a moment to process this information. “All right. Tell me everything.” He chucked her under the chin. “And this time, you dope, make it the truth.”

She went misty-eyed again and pointed to her tears. “My God, it never stops.” Then she told him about going out with her girlfriends to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday, meeting Peter Sutter, and bringing him back to her place.

“He was gone when I woke up the next morning. And I have no idea how to track him down.” She paused when she saw Ford glowering. “Remember, you promised. No judgment.”

“I said I wouldn’t judge you. But I’m thinking that the asshole who slept with my sister, got her pregnant, and then sneaked off without so much as a good-bye is entirely fair game.”

“Not defending the guy, but in fairness, it’s not like he had a reason to think he got me pregnant. I know for a fact we used at least one condom, because I found it—”

Ford held up a hand, cutting her off. “Really don’t need to know that. Ever.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “I thought, with your Trib resources, that maybe you’d be able to help me? Find Zoe’s father, I mean.”

As if she even needed to ask. “Of course I’ll help you. That’s kind of what big brothers—and supercool uncles—do. But there’s one thing I need to ask first.” He looked her right in the eyes. “How concerned should I be that you were obviously pretty drunk the night you met Zoe’s father?”

“It’s not like Dad. Promise. I just partied a little too hard on my birthday.”

He studied her for a moment. “Okay.” Satisfied, he got up to grab a small notebook he kept in the kitchen, ready to get down to business. “Now, anything you remember about this Peter Sutter can help me find him. Age, hair color, even the name of the bar you met him in.”

Nicole nodded. “Sure. Okay.”

When Ford sat back down, he suddenly remembered something. “By the way, what’s the mysterious ‘thing’ that you need to talk to Victoria about tomorrow?”

“Oh! That.” Nicole spoke excitedly. “Did you know that she’s a family lawyer?”

According to his research, she was a big-time divorce lawyer with a client list that read like the Who’s Who of Chicago. “I may have heard something to that effect.”

“Well, guess what? She offered to take my case. She said that I need a good lawyer to handle all the child support details and also any custody and visitation issues that might arise. And, how awesome is this—she suggested that she’ll cut me a break on her rates.”

Ford sat back. “Really.”

Nicole cocked her head. “Why do you say it like that? What’s going on with you and Victoria, anyway?”

“I assure you, nothing is going on with me and Victoria.” The woman was far too smug for his tastes. Judgmental. Not to mention, snarky. He could go on and on, except, really, it wasn’t worth his time.

Oh—and prickly, too.

Presumably, Nicole caught his dry tone. “Ford, you will play nice with the smart, kind-hearted lawyer who offered to take on my case.”

He snorted. “Kind-hearted? Are we talking about the same neighbor?”

“Uh-huh. The very pretty one living about ten feet away.”

“Is she pretty? I hadn’t noticed,” he said vaguely.

His sister smiled. “Oh, you noticed.”

*   *   *

A HALF HOUR later, he walked Nicole and Zoe to the door.

“I have one condition for tracking down this guy for you: that you talk to your doctor about all the stress you’ve been under.” He knew jack-squat about post-partum depression and “baby blues”—maybe Nicole was simply going through the same stress all new moms experienced. Still, he’d feel better if she talked to someone.

She pulled him in for a hug, her voice thick. “You never could resist telling me what to do.”

He watched as she and Zoe strolled down the hallway to the elevator, and then his eyes fell on the door next to his.

She offered to take on my case. And, how awesome is this—she suggested that she’ll cut me a break on her rates.

Perhaps it was time that he and Ms. Victoria Slade, Esquire, had a little chat.