Alcohol You Later (45)

I purse my lips, widening my eyes.

“It’s not rocket science, Nicholas.” The snooty brunette snatches it from my hand. “You just open it up like this,” she says arranging a diaper on the floor. “Lay him on top of it like so…” she pats the diaper trying to urge the little boy to do his part without having to engage more than absolutely necessary. “Come on Alex. Lay down.” She nods, shifting it around under him. “That’s a good boy.”

“I goo boy,” Alex repeats, beaming beneath her praise.

“That’s right,” she says folding the diaper over his front. “Then you just tape it on the sides like this!”

Call me impressed. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

Anika glares at me. “I was a child once upon a time, you know. I had a baby doll.”

She says it like that point should be painfully obvious, when she grew up just as poor as the rest of us. I picture a dirty little girl with knobby knees lugging around an even dirtier baby. And suddenly I’m hit with the urge to buy Ava every fancy baby doll in existence.

I’ll have to arrange support payments with the grandparents to ensure they never want for anything. They’ll have a good life. Far better than I had. And better still for me not being a part of it.

“Well, thanks…this is all way out of my comfort zone.”

She shrugs. “What happened to the nanny?” Her voice turns porny at the end and she gives her brows a suggestive little waggle.

I sigh, not wanting to get into it with Anika of all people. “I fucked up.”

“Nooo,” she gasps bringing a hand to her chest in feigned shock.

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

She crosses one stiletto clad foot over the other, resting her head on her hand, eyes locked in my direction. “Oh, I’m all ears.”

“Anyway,” I say, popping Alex’s head through a fresh shirt. “After my little freak out on her and Lyle yesterday, and last night’s unfortunate events, she will only be coming around during rehearsals and performances from now on.”

She sucks air through her teeth. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

“We could always find another nanny. Raven’s refusing payment, anyway.”

“No. It seems really important to her that I do this myself.”

A singular brow darts for the ceiling. “And you care what Raven wants all of a sudden?”

“Yes.” I meet her stare. “Very much.”

“Well, then.” She pats my knee. “Good luck with all of…this.” She swirls a few fingers in the general area of the children, biting back a laugh.

Goddamnit.

“Come on, guys.” I snatch the now empty box of wet wipes from Ava’s hand and start picking them up off the floor and shoving them back inside. “Can we try not to get into anything for like five minutes?”

“A melon?” Ava asks, bringing me the remote.

“Of course.” I smack myself on the forehead before turning the TV to that Cocomelon show. As if compelled by a higher power, they both drop down in the center of the rug and zone out.

Anika gives me a nod of respect.

“It’s baby crack.”

“I can see that.”

“All right, while they’re occupied, let me have it.” As fun as this has been, I know she didn’t pop in to assist with the twins.

She grins, retrieving her iPad from her messenger bag and unlocking the screen to an article on TMB Celebrity News Blog. “Nicholas Potter, heartthrob and drummer for the Rhett Taylor Band has reportedly skipped out on a sold-out show in favor of a night on the town.”

“Not too bad.” I honestly expected a lot worse.

“But wait…” She holds up a finger. “There’s more.” Anika shimmies in her seat, clearing her throat before continuing. “We have it on good authority that he and longtime gal pal, Raven Winters, had a fight that sent Nicholas on a mission to drown his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. This leads us to wonder if there’s more to these two than they’ve let on. A secret romance, perhaps? If our source is to be believed, the elusive Ms. Winters threw a woman from his bus late last night. Sounds like more of a lover’s quarrel than an argument among friends to us! Let us know what you think below in the comments!”

I scrub a hand over my face. “Vault, my ass.”

“What?”

“Nothin’. Okay, so what do we do? Do we even need to say anything?”

“You’re going to issue an apology to your fans, namely those who attended last night’s performance. The public needs some reassurance that this won’t happen again. If it looks like the band is anything less than completely stable, ticket sales will decline. None of us wants that.”

“Okay,” I say, taking a moment to ponder how best to play this. “Write this down.”

“I’m ready.” She clicks her pen a few times.

“I would like to extend my sincerest apologies to my fans for my actions last night, especially to those of you who attended our show at Red Stick Stadium in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I could spin a dozen tales that would shine a better light on my character, but that’s not my style.”

“Uhhh,” Anika hedges.