Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I pop to my feet. “I should probably get moving and let you enjoy the rest of the day.”
“Give me a moment and we’ll walk you back,” Laiken says, straightening from the bench.
“No, that’s not necessary—”
His gaze never deviates from mine. “I know, but we’ll still do it.”
As we continue to stare at one another, I realize there’s no arguing with that tone.
We gather up Elody, who insists on hugging the girl she befriended, all the while giggling and making plans to play the next day, before the three of us head back to the building. Laiken keeps a careful amount of distance between us, as if proximity itself is a risky situation.
Once we reach his lobby, he clears his throat. “I’ll text you the details tonight.”
“Okay.”
“And thank you. This really helps me out.”
The sincerity in his tone nearly undoes me.
With a final wave, Elody skips toward the elevator, her hand still tucked into her father’s larger one. It’s only when the doors slide shut that her laughter fades. I stand frozen for a beat, struck by how much has shifted in the span of an hour.
I now have a job.
A paycheck that can be deposited into a savings account.
It’s not a permanent situation, but it buys me a little bit of time.
And that’s exactly what I need right now.
8
Laiken
By eight-forty-five Sunday morning, the penthouse has been cleaned from top to bottom. If you asked why it felt necessary, I wouldn’t be able to give you a good answer. Kia is coming here to watch my kid, not run a white-glove inspection. But somewhere between getting Elody dressed, packing away the mountain of toys in the living room, and wiping the kitchen counters down twice, I realized I was moving with the same jittery focus I get before a playoff game.
Which doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.
I stack Elody’s crayons into a little plastic bin before sliding it onto the shelf. She sits cross-legged on the rug, humming under her breath as she plays with her dolls.
“Kia’s coming,” one doll says in a squeaky falsetto.
“Yeah, Kia’s coming,” the other echoes.
With a shake of my head, I bite back a smile. “You know, I’m not sure I heard you. Who’s coming today?”
She looks up at me with solemn eyes. “Kia. Did you forget, Daddy?”
“How could I? Pretty sure you reminded me a dozen times already.”
A grin spreads across her lips as she goes back to her dolls.
After the coffee machine finishes its cycle with a sputter, I pour a mug, trying to ignore the slight tremor in my hand. This is a practical solution to a very real problem.
I need reliable childcare and Kia needs a job.
That’s all there is to it.
Except, after returning from the park the other day and parting ways in the lobby, the penthouse felt too quiet. Her laugh kept echoing in my head, and I couldn’t stop picturing the steady way she’d rested her hand on Elody’s back.
I take a sip and immediately regret the decision before setting the mug down.
“Daddy?” Elody calls from the living room. “Is she almost here yet?”
“A few more minutes, bug.”
I check the clock on the microwave.
8:56.
Four more minutes.
But who’s counting?
When my phone buzzes on the counter with an incoming text, my shoulders tense expecting it to be Sarah’s parents or my lawyer.
Instead, it’s the front desk.
Carl:
Ms. Van Doren is here.
My stomach knots.
“Is it her?” Elody asks, running into the kitchen.
“Yup.” I clear my throat and type a quick message to send her up. “She’s here.”
Elody races toward the elevator.
“Walk, please,” I call after her. “You have feet. Use them normally.”
The request is ignored in her excitement.
I follow at a slower pace, forcing my expression into something neutral. Something that reflects our professional relationship. Like I didn’t just wipe down the counters for a third time because a stray crumb caught my eye.
The elevator chimes, announcing its arrival, as Elody skids to a halt and the metal doors slide open. Kia stands on the other side. Her cheeks are pink from the cold, and her blonde hair is pulled up in a messy bun. Much like the other day, she’s wearing jeans and sneakers along with a crossbody bag slung across her chest. There’s a reusable grocery bag held in one hand.
How is it possible she looks more dangerous than the polished women I meet at the Railers’ charity functions?
“Morning,” she says with a shy smile.
I lift a hand, trying to appear casual when I’m feeling anything but. “Hey.”
Elody flings herself at Kia’s legs. “You’re back!”
With a laugh, Kia leans down to hug her. “Told you I would be, silly.”
The simple way she says it burrows beneath my skin. As if she’s already become someone my little girl can count on.
“I brought a few things,” Kia adds, glancing up at me. “I hope that’s okay.”