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anything for her, including pay a slimeball like Guy to do nothing.
    Delilah made a face. She didn’t want to pay Guy. Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of letting someone like Guy extort money from her. She had more backbone than that.
    She wouldn’t do it. She absolutely wouldn’t do it.
    If she hadn’t promised Howard.
    By the end of the day, Delilah’s head was pounding. She made a mental plan for her evening as she drove through the vestiges of rush-hour traffic. Chinese food, a soothing CD, a bath, a couple of cocktails and if the sleep gods were kind, she would dissolve into her mattress for eight hours with no eggs in sight.
    She placed her order for Chinese and sank into the tub, listening warily for sounds of Armageddon from her neighbor, but she heard nothing. After a long soak, she reluctantly left the tub and wrapped herself in a white terry-cloth robe. Her doorbell rang and she grabbed the money for her Chinese dinner.
    She opened the door to a frazzled teenage girl and a screaming baby.
    Not her Chinese dinner. The poor girl must have the wrong address.
    “Are you Delilah Montague?” the girl asked.
    Delilah paused, getting an unsettling feeling in her stomach. “Who wants to know?”
    “I do,” the woman said and cocked her head toward the baby. “And Willy, here.”
    Willy . Delilah looked at the red-faced baby and felt a spurt of apprehension. “I’m Delilah Montague, but—”
    “Good,” the woman said with relief. “I’m Nicky. Nicky Conde. Howard said he told you about me and Willy.”
    “Howard?” Delilah echoed.
    The woman gave a loud sniff and stared at Delilah with sadness in her dark eyes. “He promised!” she wailed.
    “He promised what?” Delilah asked, not at all sure she wanted to know.
    “He promised he would tell you about me and Willy. I told him I couldn’t handle the baby. I mean, I love ’im, but he’s just too much for me to handle. I’m too young. I have my whole future in front of me,” she wailed, sobbing. “Howard gave me money, but I can’t keep Willy anymore. You have to.”
    “Me?” Delilah echoed in horror. “Why me?”
    “Howard promised you would keep him if I couldn’t. He promised. There are papers in the diaper bag and everything.”
    Delilah held up her hands. “No, no, no. I didn’t hear anything about this baby until now. And I can’t see any reason why I should take on the responsibility of your baby.”
    “But Willie is Howard’s son,” Nicky argued.
    Delilah felt the hallway tilt. She shook her head. “He can’t be Howard’s son. Howard couldn’t—” She broke off, reluctant to disclose Howard’s problem even though this woman may have helped cure him.
    “He used this little blue pill—”
    “Oh, absolutely not. Howard’s doctor strictly forbade him to use Viagra.”
    Nicky shrugged. “He used the pill and when I showed up pregnant, he told me he wasn’t using it anymore because it made his chest hurt.”
    Delilah’s headache returned with a vengeance. “How old are you, Nicky?”
    “I’m nineteen and I wanna be a model. I’m leaving Willy with you and going to Paris. Howard said you would take care of Willy.”
    Delilah’s breath locked in her chest. This couldn’t be happening. “For how long?” she asked, dread locking around her feet like twin anchors.
    Nicky tossed the diaper bag at Delilah’s bare feet. “He’ll be your son.”
    Benjamin couldn’t ignore the commotion in the hallway any longer. He opened his door to the sight of Delilah standing in her robe, holding a screaming baby while a teenager turned and ran for the elevator.
    “Wait! You can’t leave. You can’t—” Delilah stared at the baby as if it were the anti-christ. “Omigod.”
    “Delilah?” Benjamin said.
    “What in hell am I going to do with a baby?”
    “Delilah?” Benjamin repeated.
    “What in hell am I going to do with a baby?” she muttered, not appearing to hear him.
    “Let me help you get this stuff