by Katy Evans
I need to call for backup. But who can I phone? Not my father. Not so soon either. I’d never hear the end of it. I guess the issue is that there’s no one else who would come to my aid. My friends are mostly male and workaholics like me. I could hire someone, but how do I know I can trust them?
Trust is why I’m here in this position in the first place. Rosie’s parents don’t trust anyone enough to hire them, so if I do, won’t I be betraying their wishes?
There’s one other person I could call. I know she’s reliable. She could help with my workload. She could be the other half of my parenting duo for a few weeks. She works harder than anyone I know, and is one of the few people whom I’d actually trust with anything. My company, my own personal needs, even her help in this. The trouble is getting her to agree.
Even though I know it’s a long shot, I search my cell phone for India’s number, exhaling when I find it. Readying for bed, I set my phone down on my nightstand, with her number on the screen. Ready to dial her tomorrow.
And refusing to dwell on the way my heart beats faster at the thought of her.
Seven
India
It’s Sunday morning and I’ve finished work already. How did this happen? I got up at my usual time. I made breakfast and had a writing session in the kitchen. Then, after receiving my assignment via email, which was to write an article on the top-paying stay-at-home jobs online, I research and draft my story. Now I’ve been sitting around for an hour, trying to fill my time with minor editing and trying to figure out my next steps. I felt so productive this morning, and now there’s nothing for me to do.
I sit back in my chair with a sigh. This isn’t how I imagined freelancing would be. I almost email, asking for more work, but I don’t want to appear as though I’ve rushed any of it. I scan through my writing again just to check that it’s perfect, but the words blur before my eyes. I’ve read the article so many times that I practically know it by heart. I then try writing more on my novel, but when inspiration eludes me, I may as well accept that I’m done for the day.
I decide to make myself a healthy lunch. I steal some of Montana’s salad ingredients from the fridge and construct a depressingly light chicken dish. It’s so bland that it takes me almost half an hour to eat, but it’s not nearly long enough. I still have the rest of the day, and if I don’t find something to do I’ll go crazy with boredom.
I’m reminded why I took an office job in the first place. I can’t stay cooped up in the same place all day, every day. It doesn’t allow my thoughts to breathe. I feel suffocated by the apartment. Desperate to escape the dullness of my first day, I grab my bag and head out the door without a second thought. I don’t know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here.
Now I understand why Montana loves running. As I race out into the street, I can feel the wind whipping at my hair. I cross the road to the park opposite my apartment building and jog over to a bench. I sit down, ever so slightly breathless, and allow fresh air to fill my lungs. But as I settle in my seat, I’m reminded that I can run where I want, but it won’t keep me moving forward.
I know what I’m craving. I want to progress. I want to prove that I’m going places in my career and my life. Right now, quitting the office job and starting a new gig with less pay is feeling like a step backward, but with so much time to myself to think, it’s impossible not to overthink it all. Now I’m stuck in a cycle of self-doubt, wondering when I’ll finally figure out what to do with myself.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I frown. I rarely get calls during the day. I come to the conclusion that it must be my mother and ignore it, but moments later the phone’s ringing again. I sigh, sliding it from my pocket and checking the screen. My heart freezes.
It’s William.
What the hell does he want?
My heart is suddenly beating a thousand beats a minute. I made it pretty clear that I don’t work for him anymore. Is he going to try to convince me to come back? Is he going to try to get revenge? I don’t know and I don’t care. I don’t want to speak to him. But the phone keeps ringing, and the more it rings, the more my heartbeat accelerates and the more I want to answer it. I want to hear what the idiot has to say.
I eventually give in and answer the phone. To my surprise, I can hear crying in the background. I frown. Surely William doesn’t have children? I can’t imagine anyone being crazy enough to do that with him.
“India? Finally. I’ve been calling for ages. Why didn’t you pick up?”
“Hello to you too, Mr. Walker. Consider yourself lucky. I was thinking of ignoring the call.”
William takes a deep breath, clearly trying to compose himself. I smile. I like that I can wind him up so much. I guess because he winds me up too.
“Look, I’m sorry to bother you,” he says. “I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t urgent. But I need you to come back and work for me.”
I laugh in surprise. “Are you kidding me? I thought I made myself perfectly clear on Friday. I feel like I’ve made a lucky escape.”
“I’m well aware of the conversation we had last week, but I have a situation on my hands.”
“Yeah, I can sense that. What’s with the wailing in the background?”
“I’m not in the office. I’m caring for my niece...for the next two weeks. Trust me, it was a last-minute deal and previously not on my plans. She’s ah...well, she’s a nightmare.”
I smile to myself, thinking it’s a little cute that he’s babysitting his niece. Not as cute when the crying gets louder, though. It doesn’t surprise me that William isn’t good with children. He’s not exactly the warm-and-inviting type. I imagine the poor child took one glance at him and hasn’t stopped crying since. “Look, Mr. Walker, I don’t really know what you expect me to do for you. I’m not a babysitter.”
“I know that. I’m asking you to come back as my assistant. I’m working from home, but between looking after the baby and trying to sleep and keeping on top of your assistant duties...well, there aren’t enough hours in the day. I can’t train a temp right now, and you know all the job details by heart.”
“So what you’re saying is that you want me to come back and do the job you practically fired me from?”
“You know that’s what I’m asking.” His voice is low, gruff. Almost pleading.
“Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Walker, but you’ll have to find someone else. I have a new job now.”
“Ah, yes. As a freelance writer, according to your LinkedIn. I bet they don’t pay as well as I did.”
I fold my arms and try not to let my annoyance come through in my tone of voice. “Yes, well. Some sacrifices are worth making.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But you could still continue with your work. I know that being my assistant can be demanding, but we’ll be working from my home rather than the office, and I’ll make sure you have some free time. Plus with the pay raise I’m offering... I think you’d do well to consider it.”
I chew my lip. “How much of a pay raise are we talking?”
“I’ll double your current pay. Plus I’ll cover travel expenses to and from work, since I live in the Gold Coast. In fact, I’ll send a car for you each morning.”
Of course. The Gold Coast, where all of the mansions are.
I’m glad he’s not here to see me roll my eyes. It’s so typical that he’d use money and perks to try to entice me. But I have to admit, the raise is tempting. Two weeks of double pay from William plus the pay from my freelance-writing assignments...that would be a blessing in anyone’s book. It would be good fallback money in case something goes wrong with my new job. There aren’t any downsides. Except, of course, spending two weeks with my nightmare ex-boss and a screaming baby.
But can I really afford to turn this down? I know what Montana would say—that no amount of money can pay off unhappiness. That it’s better to be short of cash
than controlled by a manipulative man. But I can’t help being tempted. William Walker has always tempted me, despite my resistance. Dammit. I take a deep breath.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
William sighs in relief. “India, thank you. You don’t know how much—”
“But I want three times my usual pay.”
“What?”
I smile to myself. “Well, it’s not like you can’t afford it, Mr. Billionaire.”
For a second I think I might have taken it too far. I hold my breath until he responds.
“Fine,” he says quietly. He’s clearly wound up, and suddenly I realize how desperate he must be. I guess juggling a billion-dollar business and caring for a child is a task and a half. I just hope he doesn’t decide he can do it alone, after the bartering we’ve done. “I’ll send a car for you tomorrow morning, India. Half past seven. My driver can take you home again at the usual time. You can dress business casual if you want, but I can’t stress this enough—we’ll maintain the same level of professionalism that we had at the office.”
“Does that mean you’ll be shouting at me constantly while I’m trying to get my work done?”
For the second time I wonder if I’ve taken it too far. There’s silence on the other end of the line. But after several moments I hear a chuckle.
“All right, India. I’ll let that one slip. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hangs up without saying goodbye. I slide my phone back into my pocket, releasing a breath I’ve been holding for some time. The call has left me exhilarated somehow. Maybe it’s because I stuck up for myself, made demands, worked the scenario in my favor...
Or maybe it’s because I was talking to William.
* * *
When Montana gets home, I’m thoroughly prepared to tell her about going back to work with William Walker. She senses something is off the second she sees me seated at the breakfast bar, with a smile on my face and a cup of tea ready for her. She takes it with a suspicious glare.
“I feel like you’re buttering me up for something. What have you done?”
I chuckle nervously. “Well, I’ve done something a little random. Don’t hate me.”
Montana’s glare intensifies. “Well, it depends what you’ve done, doesn’t it, missy?”
I sigh. “Okay, I’ll just say it. I’m going back to work for William Walker.”
Montana slams her mug on the table. “What? Are you insane? You’ve only just escaped him and you’re already crawling back to him?”
“Let me explain...”
“Well, this had better be a pretty darn good explanation, India.”
“I’ve got him in the palm of my hand. He’s in a predicament where he’s looking after his niece and trying to run his business from home. He can’t cope without an assistant, and it was too short notice to find someone new. I negotiated with him... He’s giving me three times my usual pay. Let that sink in, Mon. Imagine what I can do with that kind of money.”
Montana shakes her head. “Forget the money. I can’t believe you’d go back to him. You’re doing so well with your writing!”
“He said I can keep it up too. Which is even more income. Being his assistant is something I can do almost on automatic. I know that man and his rituals like the back of my hand. It’ll help me fill the hours of the day, get me out of the house—because I’m seriously getting bored to death all cooped up here—and I’ll be making a fortune. I know it’s not completely ideal, considering I’ll have to be around him, but otherwise it’s an opportunity I can’t pass up.”
Montana shakes her head. “Well, obviously that’s great. But what about your pride? Do you really want to be the kind of woman who will do anything for a mean boss like that?”
I shake my head. “Mon, it’s not about pride...and it’s not about the money either. It’s just...it feels like progress. Maybe I can afford to save up, take a trip, finally get my novel finished and move forward with my life. And all it costs me is two weeks of my time. Two weeks in bad company, perhaps, but who knows? Maybe William and I will work out our differences and part on better terms. Can’t you at least try to be happy for me?”
Montana looks worried. “I’m trying, but I’m not finding it easy. You know I just want what’s best for you, right?”
I nudge her arm. “Of course I know that. And I appreciate it. But I can take care of myself. Better than you think. You don’t need to baby me all the time. Hey, and maybe when this is over, we can take that girls’ trip we’ve always talked about. Sun, sea, cocktails. Sound good?”
Montana’s lips slowly form into a smile. “I mean, that does make this whole idea seem more appealing.”
I grin. “Exactly.”
“So, you start tomorrow?”
“That’s right.”
Montana chuckles quietly, but she’s still shaking her head. “Well, I certainly hope you know what you’re doing, honey.”
“I do.”
Montana sips her tea thoughtfully. “All right. But promise me one thing?”
“Sure.”
Montana looks me in the eye with devilish glee. “If he gives you a hard time, promise you’ll give him hell.”
I smile. “Always.”
Eight
William
A sleepless night will do bad things to a person.
Something I just discovered today.
Last night I fell asleep at 1:00 a.m., only to be woken up half an hour later by Rosie’s screaming. First she was hungry. Then she soiled her diaper. Then her teeth were bothering her and I spent an hour supervising while she chewed on a teething ring.
I feel like I’ve aged twenty years in the past twenty hours. Now that morning is here, I know I have to get up and work. At least Rosie is currently sleeping. My driver is already on his way to pick up India.
And that’s another thing. It’s as though the Devil himself has planned out my next two weeks. I can’t believe that I have to spend them with India. She has manipulated this to her advantage massively. Three times her usual pay? Ridiculous. Of course I can afford to pay it, but it’s just the principle. She’s a good assistant, but she’s not that good. Still... I had no other option, so I guess whatever she wants, she gets from now on. The thought actually makes me smile a bit. Her ruthless bargaining would make her a good businesswoman.
But I don’t like the idea of India’s having so much power over me. She’s a smart woman. I feel like she’s going to squeeze all she can from me. She knows I can’t refuse her demands, or she’ll be straight out the door.
The doorbell rings and Rosie immediately starts crying again. I sigh. I should make a note to have everyone knock quietly instead of using the bell. I wearily drag myself up from the sofa to let India in.
She looks gorgeous today. Her curls are pulled up into a ponytail. She’s wearing glasses with clear frames and her best suit. It takes me a moment to realize that she’s mocking me. Making a point of turning up in business attire and fake glasses so she looks the part, even though I’m making her work from my home. She nudges her glasses to the end of her nose, pointedly looking me up and down.
“What happened to professionalism? No suit today?” India asks me.
I glance down. I’m still wearing only a T-shirt and boxers. Oh, well. I guess my tired mind didn’t register something as menial as getting dressed. It occurs to me that I haven’t brushed my teeth or hair either. India smirks, pushing past me. She’s even carrying a new briefcase to complete her look.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” she says. “And please put some pants on. That attire is entirely inappropriate for the workplace.”
She’s already trying to wind me up. Fantastic. Just what I need. I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from saying anything. I don’t want to give in to her games.
“Come up to my office.
I’ve set up a phone for you, and a workstation.”
“Lucky me,” India says under her breath, flashing me a fake smile. I don’t rise to the bait, ushering her to follow me.
We head through the living room to the stairs. I can sense India’s holding back. At first I think she’s doing it to annoy me, but then I catch her taking in her surroundings in wonder. She looks like she wants to say something about the artwork on the walls, the expensive rugs and the crystal chandelier in the foyer at the base of the staircase, but she doesn’t. For once she manages to keep her mouth shut. But I can see the marvel in her eyes. It does something to me—something like making me want to impress her more.
Don’t be ridiculous, Walker.
We head down the long landing to where my office is. I point her in the right direction.
“I need to go and tend to Rosie. Get yourself set up. I’ll be there in a minute.”
India nods absentmindedly, still distracted by her surroundings.
I leave her to it, rushing to fetch Rosie. I find her red-faced, with tears streaming down her cheeks, and her features screwed up, seemingly in agony. I scoop her up, hold her close to my chest and try to hush her. She refuses to be consoled.
I pace the room, rubbing her back while she wails in my ear. Her cries wake me up a little more, but they’re also giving me a pretty bad headache.
I don’t know how long I’m in the room, but it must be a while because all of a sudden India appears in the doorway, trying to tell me something.
“I can’t hear you,” I shout over Rosie’s screams. India sighs, moving closer.
“I’ve got two clients on hold,” she says close to my ear. Her breath tickles my skin and I have to stop myself from shivering. India winces as Rosie lets out an almost-feral scream. “Are you sure you have this under control?”
“She won’t stop. She’s inconsolable.”
India sighs. “Here,” she says, reaching out for Rosie. “Let me try.”
