Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,121

the backseat. “You stay. Maybe a friend can watch the baby?”

“I’ll figure it out. Shoot me a text when you know he’s okay.”

“I will.”

I stood on the sidewalk with Olivia patting the top of my head and giggling as they drove away.

The prospects of making my meeting vanished down the street along with that car, and I wondered if I’d blown my chance at the clerkship. Roger Harris, the other candidate was probably camped outside Judge Miller’s chambers with a box of cigars at that moment, the little ass-kisser.

My mind scrolled through a mental rolodex of people I could call, last minute, but even if one were available, getting to me in time was impossible.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“Shih,” Olivia said.

“Is that Sesame Street’s word of the day?” asked a voice behind me.

I turned and blinked. Darlene was practically glowing under the blazing afternoon sun in her white spa uniform.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where was Elena running off to?”

“Hector broke his elbow,” I said.

Darlene put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, no, the poor little guy. I hope he’s okay.” She bent toward Olivia. “And what are you doing, sweet pea? Just hanging with Daddy?”

Olivia cooed laughter, and Darlene started to touch her hand but pulled it back and straightened quickly.

“Sorry,” she said. “I know you’d prefer I…not. But I can’t help it. She’s too cute for words.” She cocked her head at me. “Are you usually home this early?”

“No, I’m not,” I said, carving a hand through my hair. “I came home to change for a meeting with Judge Miller. I’m a clerkship candidate. If I miss it, I could be sincerely screwed.”

“Scrooo,” Olivia said and kicked her foot for emphasis.

“And I’ve just taught my one-year-old daughter two curse words in the space of a minute.”

Darlene laughed. “You won’t miss your meeting. I got her.” She gave me a look when I hesitated. “Really?”

“Darlene…”

“Look, I know the score, but you need help and I just happened to have a cancellation that brought me home early.” She grinned. “I’ll teach her the word ‘babysitter’, I promise.”

I rubbed my chin. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Happy to.” Her eyebrows rose. “Are you sure?”

No, I was not sure. Not by any stretch. Darlene was a natural with Olivia—I didn’t doubt her babysitting abilities. But already, I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off of her and my thoughts in line around her. It was only going to get worse the more we came in contact.

My inner alarms blared.

Judge Miller! Because of Darlene, you aren’t going to miss this meeting after all. Do not fuck this up!

I shook my head. “Yeah, yes, of course. Thanks.” A sigh of relief that began in my feet gusted out of me. “Yeah, thank you.”

In the Victorian, Darlene ran up to her place to change out of her uniform, while I put Olivia in her playpen and threw on gray suit pants and white dress shirt. Darlene knocked, then peeked her head in while I was tying my tie in the living room mirror.

“You decent?”

“Yeah, come in.” I glanced at her through the mirror, then quickly away.

Darlene had changed into leggings and an oversize white shirt that came down to mid-thigh. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it draped over her lithe body, somehow highlighting her elegant lines and soft curves just as perfectly as if she were wearing skin-tight clothing.

You haven’t been laid in ten months. She could be wearing a bag and you’d get hard.

I cleared my throat and sought sanctuary behind my desk. “So…emergency numbers are on the fridge,” I said, pawing through papers and throwing those I needed into my briefcase. “But honestly, if anything happens, call 911 first, me second.”

“Got it,” she said. Olivia was squawking to be picked up. Darlene lifted her and set her on her hip. “Oh, but I don’t have your phone number.”

I scribbled my number on a piece of paper and moved to hand it to her. “Write yours down,” I said, and shrugged into my suit coat I’d set out on the desk chair.

Darlene put pen to paper as Olivia played with her hair, then she frowned. “Wait. You can’t take my number with you; I need to keep your number. Let me get my cell; I’ll punch yours in.”

“No need,” I said. I picked up the paper and took a mental snapshot of Darlene’s phone number, then handed it back. “Got it.”

Darlene’s smile was ridiculously beautiful. “Mega-mind strikes again.”

I leaned in to kiss Olivia on the cheek,