‘Very impressive,’ she said.
He shrugged. ‘It’s basic data management—and it’s only as good as the data you feed in. That’s why the requirements and spec side is important. What the client thinks they want might not be what they actually want, so you have to grill them.’
‘I can see you’d be good at that,’ she said, then winced. ‘Sorry, that was rude. I’m not trying hard enough.’
He should’ve been annoyed and wanting to snipe back; but he liked the fact that she was being honest. Plus he was beginning to suspect that she had quite a sharp wit, something he appreciated. ‘It’s OK. We’ve never really got on before, so we’re not exactly going to be best friends, are we?’
‘No, but we don’t have to be rude to each other, either.’
‘I guess not.’ He paused. ‘So do you use a computer system?’
‘Sort of. I do my accounts on a spreadsheet because I’m a sole trader and don’t need anything more complicated, but I did have my website designed so I could showcase my work and people could buy what they wanted online from me direct. It shows whether the piece they want is in stock or if they need to order it and how long it’ll take—but, yes, I have to update that manually.’
Dylan made a mental note to look up her website. Maybe there was something he could add to it to make her life easier. Which didn’t mean he was going soft; making things run smoothly for her meant that he wouldn’t have to prop up their roster for more than his fair share of effort.
‘So what’s your big plan?’ she asked. ‘Expansion?’
‘Pretty much keep doing what I do now,’ he said. ‘I have a good team. They’re reliable and they’re prepared to put in the hours to get the projects in on time.’
‘And you like your job?’
‘It’s like breathing, for me,’ he said honestly. Something that Nadine had never really quite understood. His job was who he was.
‘Same here,’ she said, surprising him. It was something else they had in common.
When they’d finished the meal, she said, ‘It’s my turn to do the dishes, and I’m not weaselling out of it—but there’s something I need to share with you. Back in a tick.’
She returned with a book and handed it to him.
He read the title. ‘The Baby Bible. What’s this?’
‘You asked me how come I know so much about babies. It’s because of this. I bought it when Ty was born, so I’d know what to do when Ally asked me to babysit. It tells you everything you need to know—how to do things, what all the milestones are.’ She spread her hands. ‘And if that doesn’t work then I’ll bring in my other secret weapon.’
‘Which is?’
She looked slightly shame-faced. ‘Ring my mum and ask her advice.’
He thought about what would happen if he rang his mother and asked for help with a baby. No, it wasn’t going to happen. He was pretty sure his mother hadn’t been able to cope with having a baby or a child, which was why she’d dumped him on her parents so many times. The only person he could’ve asked about babies was his grandmother, but she’d died a year ago now. After he’d married Nadine, but before the final split. And, although she’d never judged, never actually said anything about it, Dylan knew his grandmother had thought the wedding was a huge mistake.
How right she’d been.
What would she think about this set-up?
What would she have thought about Emmy?
He shook himself. ‘Do you need it back soon?’
‘I’ve read it through cover-to-cover once. But if you could leave it in Tyler’s room or the kitchen when it’s my shift, so I can refer to it if I need to, that’d be really helpful.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Do you mind if I go back to work now and do the washing up later?’
‘Sure—and I’m on nights tonight.’
‘I would say sleep well, but...’ She shrugged. ‘That’s entirely up to Tyler.’
‘Yes.’ And Dylan wasn’t so sure he’d sleep well anyway. He still had to get his head round a lot of things. New responsibilities, having to share his space with someone else when he’d just got used to his bachelor lifestyle, and having a totally new routine for starters. Not to mention that getting to know Emmy was unsettling, because all his preconceptions about her were starting to look wrong. ‘Sleep well,’ he said, and went to settle down with his new reading material.
THE BABY WOKE at half past three, and the wails coming through the baby listener seemed incredibly loud.
Dylan surfaced from some weird dream, switched off the baby listener and staggered out into Tyler’s nursery.
According to what Emmy had told him—and what he’d read last night—screaming meant the baby was dirty, hungry, tired or wanted a cuddle. He picked the baby up and sniffed him. Nothing like yesterday’s appalling whiff, so Tyler didn’t need a nappy change. It was the middle of the night, so he could be tired—but then again, he wouldn’t have woken if he was tired. So was he hungry, or did he just want a cuddle?
He probably wanted his mum. Though, Tyler was way too little to understand that Ally couldn’t be there for him anymore. Not like Dylan’s mother, who hadn’t been there because she hadn’t wanted to; Tyler had been very much loved by both his parents. And it was wrong, wrong, wrong that they’d died so young.
The baby nuzzled him.
Hadn’t Emmy said that was a sign of hunger?
‘OK, Ty, food it is,’ he whispered. He took the baby down to the kitchen, managed to switch on the kettle and get the milk out of the fridge, and walked up and down with the baby, stroking his back to sooth him and jiggling him.
Dear God, why had nobody told him that babies were so loud? If Tyler carried on much longer, Emmy was bound to wake. And that wasn’t fair because this was his shift, not hers, and he should be able to deal with this.
It seemed to take forever to heat the milk, and Tyler’s wails grew louder and louder. Eventually Dylan managed it and tested the milk against his wrist. It wasn’t as warm as yesterday, but hopefully it would be warm enough to keep the baby happy.
He sat in the dark while the baby guzzled his milk.
‘Better now?’ he asked softly. Not that he was going to get an answer.
Then he remembered about the burping thing. The last thing he wanted was for the baby to wake again, crying because his tummy hurt. Dylan felt like a zombie as it was. He held Tyler on his shoulder and rubbed the baby’s back, then nearly dropped the baby when he heard a loud burp and felt an immediate gush of liquid over his bare shoulder. What? Why hadn’t Emmy warned him about this? It hadn’t happened last time. Had he done something wrong?
The baby began to cry again. Oh, hell—the burped-up milk had probably soaked his clothes, too, and he’d be cold. He needed a change of clothes; Dylan couldn’t possibly put him back into his cot in this state.
Luckily the overhead light in the nursery was on a dimmer switch. Dylan kept it as low as possible, and hunted for clean clothes. Tyler seemed to have grown four extra arms and six extra legs, all of which were invisible, but eventually Dylan managed to get him out of the Babygro.
The nappy felt heavy; clearly that needed changing, too, before Dylan put clean clothes on the baby. But when he settled Tyler on the changing unit and opened the nappy, the baby promptly peed over him. Dylan jumped back in shock, then dashed forward in horror. This was his first night