href="#u9bcaa86d-6fce-5f3b-bf6d-700f2e03ada3">
Thirteen
The lobby of LangTel’s Manhattan headquarters was practically a shrine to order and quiet restraint. It was not the place to bring a fussy baby. Sarah Daltrey had done precisely that. Marble floors, towering ceilings and huge expanses of windows facing the street made any sound, especially baby Oliver’s errant cries, echo and reverberate like crazy.
Sarah kissed his forehead, bouncing him on her hip as she paced in the postage stamp waiting area. For such a massive building, taking up nearly an entire city block, LangTel had been distinctly stingy with the amenities for the uninvited. Two chairs and a ten-by-ten rug sat opposite a closely guarded bank of elevators. It was clear that no one occupying this space should stay for long.
Oliver whimpered and buried his head in her neck. Poor little guy—none of this was his fault. Oliver hadn’t asked to take a four-hour train ride that morning. He certainly hadn’t asked to come to an ice-cold office building in the middle of his nap time. More than anything, Oliver hadn’t asked to lose his mother three weeks ago, nor had he asked to have a father who refused to acknowledge his existence.
Sarah took her cell phone and dialed the number she’d memorized but wasn’t about to add to her contacts. As soon as she got Oliver’s dad to accept his paternal responsibility, she’d force herself to forget the string of digits that led to an office somewhere in this building, most likely the top floor. There would be no maintaining ties with Aiden Langford. Their connection was temporary, albeit of paramount importance. She had his son and he was going to take custody, even if it killed her.
“Yes. Hello. It’s Sarah Daltrey. I’m calling for Aiden Langford. Again.”
One of the two security guards manning the lobby gave her the side-eye. Meanwhile, the woman on the other end of the phone line expressed equal disdain with her snippy tone. “Mr. Langford has told me a dozen times. He does not know you. Please stop calling.”
“I can’t stop calling until he finally talks to me.”
“Perhaps I can help you.”
“No. You can’t. This is a personal matter and Mr. Langford should appreciate that I’m not sharing the details of this situation with his assistant. I outlined it all in the email I sent to him.” More like seven emails, but who’s counting? “If I can just have five minutes of his time, I can explain everything.” Five minutes was a lie. She’d need at least an hour to walk Mr. Langford through Oliver’s schedule, his likes and dislikes, and to make sure he was off to as good a start as possible.
“Mr. Langford is very busy. I can’t put through the call of every person who claims to need his time.”
“Look. I just spent four hours on a train from Boston to New York and I’m downstairs in the lobby, caring for a ten-month-old sorely in need of a nap. I’m not leaving until I speak to him. I’ll sleep here if I have to.”
“I can have security escort you from the building, Ms. Daltrey. Surely you don’t want that.”
“Does LangTel want the embarrassment of their security removing a kicking and screaming woman with a baby from their lobby?”
Mr. Langford’s assistant said everything with her momentary silence. “Can you hold, please? I’ll see if there’s anything I can do.”
Sarah had very little hope for this, but what other options did she have? “Sure. I’ll hold.”
Just then, a statuesque woman with glossy brown hair dressed in a tailored gray dress and black pumps came through the revolving door. Sarah might not have noticed her, but she had a baby bump that was impossible to miss. The security guard beelined to her, taking the stack of papers in her arms. “Good afternoon, Ms. Langford. I’ll get the elevator.”
Anna Langford. Sarah recognized her now, from the research she’d done on the Langford family while trying to find a way to get to Aiden. Anna was one of two LangTel CEOs, along with her brother Adam. She was also Aiden Langford’s younger sister.
Oliver dropped his favorite toy, a stuffed turtle, and unleashed a piercing wail. Sarah cringed, crouching down, scooting across the carpet in her wedge sandals, scrambling for Oliver’s toy while cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder. Anna came to a dead stop and turned her head, zeroing in on Sarah and Oliver.
Great. Now we really are going to get kicked out of the lobby.
Anna frowned and strode closer, but when she removed her sunglasses, there was only empathy in her eyes. “Oh no. Somebody’s unhappy.”
Certain that she’d been banished to the land of horrible hold music, Sarah ended her call and tucked her phone into the diaper bag. “Sorry about that. It’s nap time. He’s tired.” When she straightened to face Anna, she felt as if she needed a step stool. Anna was tall and in heels, while Sarah was height challenged even in her strappy sandals.
Anna shook her head. “Please don’t apologize. This is the highlight of my day. He’s adorable.” She reached for Oliver’s pudgy hand and smiled. He responded by gripping her finger, his head resting on Sarah’s shoulder. “I’m Anna Langford, by the way.”
“I’m Sarah. Daltrey. This is Oliver.” Sarah watched as Oliver smiled shyly at Anna. He was such a sweet and trusting boy. Saying goodbye to him was going to be heartbreaking, especially after three weeks of caring for him all on her own, but that was her charge and there was nothing to be done about that. She was done with being a nanny, and caring for a child that wasn’t her own, regardless of the circumstances, felt far too much like her old life.
Anna’s eyes didn’t stray from Oliver. “Nice to meet you both. I’m due to have my own little one in about six weeks. Middle of June. I have baby fever right now, big time.” She studied the baby’s face. “Your son’s eyes are incredible. Such a brilliant shade of blue.”
And exactly like your brother’s.
Sarah cleared her throat. “He’s not mine, technically. I’m his legal guardian. I’m in the process of connecting him with his father. That’s why I’m here.”
Confusion crossed Anna’s face. “At LangTel. The father works here?”
Sarah had committed herself to discretion for the sake
