Maybe Baby Read Free Page B

people?”
    “They find me. They need me. I help them, and you help me.”
    Nick shook his head. “Not anymore. I’m out of the favor game. I already told you. Whatever sticky situation your little society friends get into is not your problem, and it’s sure as hell not mine.”
    “Come on, Nick,” she said, leaning forward and giving him puppy dog eyes. “It’ll be fun. You’ll be helping someone too crazy to help herself, and I’ll have something to do. I’m bored, Nick.”
    “Take up knitting.”
    “Oh, please. Old ladies knit.” She took a sip of her espresso, then daintily set the tiny cup back on the saucer and smiled up at Nick. “So, midnight then?”
    “I said no, Babs. I have stuff to do.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like…” He searched his mind for an excuse. “Work. I have my shift tonight.”
    “It’s your last day Surely you can leave early. That nice Grady is all trained and ready to take over for you.”
    “I have to pack.”
    “You have five days to pack.”
    “Babs,” he said, leaning over the bar and looking her direct in the face so she’d know he meant it. “No.”
    “How can you say no?”
    “Easy. I think it, then I say it. No. See? Like that.”
    “Oh, fine. Killjoy.” She picked up the piece of paper and glanced at it. “I’ll just have to do it myself then.”
    Nick eyed her as she played innocent, reading the information on the paper.
    “I know what you’re doing, Babs,” Nick said, “and it’s not going to work.”
    “Oh?” She blinked at him innocently. “What am I doing?”
    “Trying to manipulate me into stealing that bird.”
    “Not steal. Pick up.”
    “Semantics. And I revisit my no.” Nick watched her for a moment suspiciously. “Why are you so insistent about this, anyway?”
    “Because I’m so bored I could spit. Do you know I spent an entire evening last night watching reality television? It’s insupportable. And that stupid bachelor chose the absolute wrong girl.” Babs looked at him and sighed. “They’re fun, these favors. I like helping people solve their problems.”
    “Babs…” Nick began, but she held up her hand.
    “Nick, there are only so many charity benefit luncheons one can organize before one wants to chop off one’s own hand and stick it in a centerpiece. Now I came up with a solution for Vivian, but I need your help. It’ll just be this one last time.”
    She reached over and patted his hand. “Vivian is going to make a substantial donation to St. Jude’s for this.”
    Nick closed his eyes. Here it comes.
    “All those sick little children,” Babs said, her voice plaintive. “This donation will get them teddy bears, and Nintendos, and crucial medication—”
    “Enough,” Nick said, holding up his hand. He tapped his fingers roughly on the bar. Babs had been suckering him into doing these whacked-out favors for years, and he always caved when she brought up the sick kids. The woman had absolutely no shame. He let out a rough exhale.
    “What kind of bird is it?”
    Babs straightened up in her seat. “I’m sorry?”
    “Is it big? Little? What color is it?”
    “It’s a Kakapo,” she said, her words flowing fast in her excitement, “that’s all I know, and I don’t know exactly what that means. It’s from New Zealand, I think. But it’ll be the only bird in the room.”
    “Fine.” He nodded toward the paper in her hand. “One more, but that’s it. Saturday I get on that plane, and it’s over. I mean it.”
    He held his hand out. She happily tucked the piece of paper into his palm. He opened it and stared at the address, then turned back to face Babs.
    “So, that’s it? I just get the bird and… what?”
    Babs waved her hand vaguely. “Vivian will give you the check for St. Jude’s, you bring it to me in the morning, then you can do whatever you want with the bird. It might be nice for you to have a pet, don’t you think? I don’t think it’s good for you to live alone. It makes you