The First Taste(3)

“Oh, God.” She rolls her eyes. “You sound like Nathan. You guys are so sappy. I don’t know what’s so joyous about having to use the ladies’ room every hour or craving things I wouldn’t normally touch with a pole.”

I smile. All that’ll leave her memory as soon as the nurse hands her the baby. It didn’t exactly happen that way for Shana, who never forgot how much she hated being pregnant, but I know a lot of moms. They start talking about the next one pretty quickly. “You need anything at all and Nathan’s not around, you call me. Seriously.”

“Count on it.”

“Speaking of the can,” I say, “I need to take a leak.”

“Charming.”

“It took us almost an hour to get here because of the time of day.” I slump Bell’s duffel on the ground. “Nature calls.”

“Go back the way you came,” she says, pointing behind me. “Bathroom’s right before reception.”

I head through the maze of desks until I find a corridor with one door, but there’s an out-of-order sign plastered to it.

I’m about to go in anyway when a woman speaks, her tone clear but edged with impatience. “Finally,” she says. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you?”

I turn around and meet a pair of dusk-blue eyes. My gaze instantly drifts south. She’s a leggy blonde in a colorful blouse and tight navy skirt that hugs her very slight curves. The cream parts of her top are sheer, so of course I notice the dark, lacy bra underneath.

She puts her hands on her hips, and I look up again. Her eyes sparkle like she’s happy to see me, but the way she’s frowning, I get the feeling that’s not the case.

I glance from side to side, but we’re alone in the hall. “If that was an attempt at a pick-up line, you need to work on your delivery.”

She purses her red lips, forming them into a near-perfect heart. “There are seven women on this floor, four men, and one bathroom. You said you’d be here hours ago. Did you flush your work ethic down the toilet at your last job?”

I reel back, crossing my arms over my chest. That’s a whole lot of attitude for so few words, and nobody but Bell gives me attitude. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I’m here to see my sister, not get yelled at.”

She furrows her brows with a tilt of her head. “Aren’t you with the plumbing company?”

My first instinct is to laugh, but I think she’s just insulted me. I could see why she’d assume that if I were still in my coveralls from the garage, but I’ve showered and changed since leaving work. In jeans and a clean t-shirt, I’m not exactly King of England, but it’s not like my ass crack is showing. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Then what’re you doing in my agency?” she asks. “And why are you wasting my time?”

Sadie saves me. “I’m sorry, Amelia,” she says, hurrying over. “This is my brother.”

The woman—Amelia—stares at me, but I give it right back to her. I hold out my hand. “Andrew Beckwith, brother, father, non-plumber.”

She looks at my hand, then at Sadie.

“He’s just dropping off my niece for the weekend,” Sadie explains.

The corners of Amelia’s mouth droop. “There’s a child in here?”

Sadie nods. “Yes, but I’m taking her home right now. She won’t even have time to make a mess.”

Spurned, I drop my hand back to my side and suck my front teeth. Typical New York City girl. Not a single blonde hair on her head is out of place. She’s tall and thin, with a small but defined nose and almond-shaped, stunningly blue eyes. My first thought is that she’s definitely not Shana. Black-haired, petite, tattooed and pierced ex-girlfriends used to be my type. Now, it’s a woman who’s anything but. This one may look like a sexy Barbie, but she’s arrogant as hell. I don’t think it’s any coincidence every entitled chick I’ve come across in my thirty-five years hails from or is heading to the city.

If I’m expecting an apology from this woman, it’s clear I’m not going to get one. But I still have to piss, and now that I’m aware of it, the situation’s getting serious.

“If the repairman isn’t here in the next ten minutes,” Amelia announces, “I’ll have to fix the toilet myself, and getting dirty in expensive clothes makes me very, very cranky.”

Pretty sure I’d like to see her in her stuffy outfit on the bathroom floor getting dirty.

A few people groan.

I open my mouth to ask how much crankier she can get, maybe even lighten the mood with a joke, but Sadie shakes her head quickly, warning me off.

Instead, I ask, “Didn’t you say there were four men on this floor?”

“Yes.”

“Why can’t one of them fix it?”

Amelia throws back her head and laughs, but it sounds more controlled than carefree. “Has hell frozen over? These boys wouldn’t know a wrench if I knocked them upside the head with one. And believe me, I’ve considered it.”

I check my watch, though I’m not sure why. I’ve got nowhere to be—except, hopefully, the toilet. “You got tools here? I’ll take a look.”

“Andrew’s extremely handy,” Sadie says.