by J. P. Comeau
I smiled as I interrupted her. “Actually, I do.”
She placed her hands on my shoulders. “This is going to be a good thing. I just know it.”
“I really hope you’re right, Guadalupe.”
Ginger came bursting into the office. “Did she say yes? Please tell me I can call Jorge now.”
Guadalupe gave her a thumbs up. “Call away!”
I narrowed my eyes. “This was a set-up?”
Guadalupe patted my cheek. “A set-up for your future, sweetheart. Just take it and be thankful.”
Ginger squealed and rushed down the hallway, yelling at someone to fetch her phone for her. Guadalupe raised up onto her tiptoes and gave me a kiss on my forehead, and for a split second, it seemed like everything was going to be just fine. Guadalupe had a way of pulling things out of her ass that benefitted all of us when we needed it most, and I hoped it was my time for that.
Because my first student loan installment was three weeks away, and I didn’t have the cash flow to pay for it.
“Oh, and by the way,” Guadalupe said as she started out of my office, “Mr. Lincoln’s already hired my niece for his daytime shift. We just wanted to make sure you were on board before we got your interview with him scheduled.”
I shook my head. “Three peas in a pod, you all are.”
Ginger poked her head above Guadalupe’s in the doorway. “How does dinner tonight sound? Seven? At Radcliffe’s?”
I shook my head and shrugged. “Sure?”
Ginger went back to talking on the phone. “She agreed. Yes, let’s get this set-up. You call Gavin and—”
Guadalupe shut my office door, closing off the rest of the conversation. And by the time I was done with my workday at the spa, Ginger had a time and place set up for Gavin and me to meet. My hands trembled as I made my way home. I spent over an hour trying to pick out the right outfit. I mean, it wasn’t a date, so it didn’t have to be sexy. But, I was about to meet up with an A-list Hollywood actor in one of the finest, most discreet restaurants in the city for a job interview.
“What the hell do I wear to something like this?” I whispered.
After finally settling on some high-waisted black pants, black heels, and a white ruffled blouse, I opted for some sparkling jewelry since the colors were pretty tame. I painted on some red lipstick before wiping it off, then chose a nice, cool shade. The rich purple made my eyes pop, but it didn’t make me look like I was hoping to get lucky by the end of this dinner.
And once the clock ticked over to six-thirty, I was out the door.
“Radcliffe’s. Radcliffe’s. Come on, where’s the sign?”
My GPS got me to the road it sat on, but I drove up and down it, trying to find the damned sign. At first, I thought I was going crazy. Then, I thought maybe I had punched in the address wrong. But, after driving back down the road a fifth time, I saw it.
Tucked down at the beginning of an alleyway, of all places.
“Oh, boy,” I murmured.
The only reason why I felt comfortable parking my car and getting out was that everyone knew of this place. If they hadn’t been there, they at least knew where it was and the kinds of food they served. It was easily the most upscale place downtown, and I felt sorely underdressed, just stepping into the restaurant.
But, the maître d’ must have noticed me because the second I walked inside, he appeared at my side. “This way, Miss Johnson.” His accent was thick, and I couldn’t place it.
“I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
He smiled kindly. “Mr. Lincoln is waiting for you upstairs. I have been told to escort you once you arrived.”
I nodded slowly. “Well, then, by all means, lead the way. And thank you.”
He bowed softly. “You’re quite welcome. It is an honor.”
As we made our way for the stairs, I couldn’t stop rubbernecking around. Everyone was dressed to the nines and decked out in their finest jewelry and fabrics. There was soft music playing from a live band in the corner that looked like they had come pre-programmed with the entire restaurant. The hand-carved crown moldings that adorned the upper portion of the walls were breathtaking. The fact that all of the tables and booths had these black marble tops with sparkling brown specks in them made me gawk every time we passed by one. Even as we ascended the steps, the mahogany banister ushered us all the way up to the top.
And when the maître d’ opened a door at the top of the steps, I found myself walking into a room that had only one table placed in the middle with a crackling fireplace off to the side—and a very handsome Hollywood man standing to his feet.
“Eva Johnson. It’s good to meet you again,” Gavin said.
I swallowed hard to pull myself out of my trance, and I moved just quickly enough to shake his hand without him having to stand there, waiting for me. “Likewise, Mr. Lincoln.”
He held his hand out toward the table. “Please, call me Gavin. Have a seat. There’s wine already poured, and I took the liberty of ordering us some soup for an appetizer. It’s their house recipe, and it’s outstanding. Everyone has to try it at least once.”
I smiled as I walked to my seat. “Sounds delightful, thank you.”
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! Look at what I found!”
I heard Gavin chuckle as I pivoted to find the source of the voice. “What is it, princess?”
“I found a pencil that Mr. Black had.”
I furrowed my brow. “Mr. Black?”
Gavin crouched down to the level of who I assumed was his daughter. “She means the maître d’, Giuseppe.”
Italian, of course.
“Would you like some paper to draw on? I keep a notebook in my purse.”
The shy little girl buried herself in her father’s arms, then peeked her eyes out over his muscles. “Please?”
I smiled. “Of course. Here, I’ll set it on your father’s chair.”
I dug around in my purse and made sure there wasn’t anything written in the notebook that couldn’t be ruined. And after pulling out a few pages worth of notes I had taken, I walked the notebook over and sat it on Gavin’s seat. I backed up and took my place at the table, watching as the hesitant girl pulled her father along while she crept toward the chair. Then, she swiped it up and burrowed beneath the table.
“She likes it under there, with the tablecloth and everything. Makes her feel like she’s in a fort,” Gavin said.
I nodded. “I used to do that all the time with my sheets as a little girl. My parents actually bought a second kitchen table so they’d have a place to eat and I’d have a place to play.”
The girl giggled underneath the table. “I’m gonna do this at home.”
Gavin sat down across the table from me. “So, I took a look at your resume, and it’s pretty impressive.”
I nodded. “I’m glad you think so.”
“It looks like you held a couple of nannying gigs while in college?”
“I did, yes. They were part-time, and then overnights on the weekends. I did a lot of babysitting when I was in high school as well. The references are at the bottom if you’d like to give anyone a call.”
He slid his napkin into his lap. “Oh, don’t worry. I already did. It’s why I felt comfortable scheduling this meeting.”
Keep it together, Eva. “Yes, yes. Of course, you would. This is a huge decision.”
His eyes met mine. “The biggest. I don’t entrust just anyone with my daughter.”
“And if I had children, it would be the exact same way.”
“Do you want children someday?”
An odd question for an interview, but it felt more like a conversation anyway, so I obliged. “One day, yes. Maybe two or three. I know one day I’ll be a mother, but the number itself doesn’t hold a lot of weight. I guess I’ll just have children until I feel like I can’t handle anymore.”
He smiled, and it lit up the entire room. “So, tell me about yourself. Other than the monetary necessities everyone else has on this p
lanet, why do you want to go back to nannying?
5
Gavin
I watched Eva contemplate my question, and watching her gave me a chance to really study her. Dammit, she was more beautiful than I even remembered—and those eyes. They looked more piercing with that lipstick on her full, lovely lips.
“To be honest? I hadn’t really considered it,” she said.
I blinked. “Really? Why’s that?”
She shrugged. “Well, as you can tell by the dates on my resume, I was recently fired from a job I had at a restaurant where I worked for years. And I’m in dire need of filling that financial void before some payments come due. A lot of the nannying and babysitting I did wasn’t for the money but just to help people out. They needed someone to watch their kids, and I was more than willing to give of my time.”
“That’s very virtuous of you.”
She reached for her wine glass. “Oh, I loved it. Children and I get along spectacularly. But, the girls at the spa caught wind of my losing my job, and then you hired Guadalupe’s niece to work for you during the day. I figured this could be a way I could help someone out in need and fill the financial void in the process.”
I reached for my wine glass as well. “I appreciate your honesty. And forgive how formal this all feels. Asia wanted to get dressed up and go out tonight, and who can say no to something like that?”
She giggled. “I think it’s really sweet.”
My heart warmed at her words. “Thank you, genuinely. And you’re right, I have hired Guadalupe’s niece for the day shift to help me out. But, I still need someone for a night shift. Possible overnights, too.”
I saw her turning over my words behind her eyes, and I knew she was hung up over the “overnight” issue. The truth of the matter was that sometimes I didn’t get home from a set until one or two in the morning. I couldn’t just leave my daughter at the house by herself to sleep. Someone needed to be there.
I sipped my wine. “This will be a lot easier if you simply spit out what you’re thinking.”
Eva sipped her own wine before she drew in a deep breath. “Well, Monday through Friday, I work at the spa. Every weekday, from six in the morning until two in the afternoon. And while I’m not sure where you live, I know that with this constant traffic, anywhere outside of a ten-block radius is going to take me at least forty minutes to get through with my car, versus just walking from my place.”
I leaned back in my seat. “And going home in the middle of the night would detract from the sleep you can get for your other job.”
“Exactly.”
I puffed out my cheeks with a sigh. “Well, I’ve got guest bedrooms and a guesthouse that you’re more than welcome to stay in. My home would be your home. Most of the bedrooms have attached bathrooms, so your privacy wouldn’t be an issue. And if you’re too tired to drive yourself to work, I don’t see why you can’t borrow Lucas to take you to work.”
She blinked. “Lucas?”
I nodded. “My driver. I know that doesn’t fix the whole ‘lack of sleep’ issue, but there are a ton of great coffee places he could take you to before getting you to the spa for your shift.”
I knew it was only a temporary solution, but I grew excited when she smiled. She sipped her wine, and I had to resist the urge to watch her lips as they wrapped around the edge of the crystal glass. What was that color? Black? Dark red? Navy?
Eva cleared her throat. “I could make that work, definitely.”
I chuckled. “Sounds like we have a promising future, then.”
I felt a tug on my pant leg before Asia’s voice sounded. “Is our food here yet?”
Our waiter’s voice rang out into the room. “Got your soup right here, actually.”
Asia climbed up into her chair. “Yay!”
Eva sniffed the air. “That smells amazing. What kind of soup is it?”
The waiter set our bowls in front of us. “A ginger and tomato bisque with parsnips. Our house special.”
Asia picked up her spoon. “Is there bread, too?”
The waiter put the basket of bread right in front of her. “As much of it as you want.”
“Yay!”
Eva reached for a piece of bread. “I’m with her. Soup with bread is the perfect start to any meal.”
For a little while, the table fell silent as we all dipped our bread into the soup and ate our fill. Asia abandoned her spoon in order to tip the bowl up to her lips. I shook my head as she started gulping it down.
“Asia, you know your table manners,” I said.
Then, Eva’s beautiful voice sounded. “Actually, in some cultures, they tip their bowls up just like that to drink their soup.”
Ava put her bowl down long enough to stick out her tongue, and I tickled her side.
“Better watch where you point that thing because my fingers are quicker than your legs,” I said.
Eva giggled. “Here, I’ll join you, Asia. If that’s all right?”
My daughter peeked over at her, and I watched as Eva scooped her bowl into her hands. She held it up, refusing to drink even one drop until she got the okay from my daughter. I watched the two of them like a hawk as my little girl studied her. And the truth of the matter was that if Eva couldn’t bond with my daughter, no amount of schedule finagling would benefit us.
But then, my daughter nodded and went back to slurping her soup, followed by Eva with her own slurping sounds.
“Hell, why not?” I asked.
Asia giggled. “You said a yucky word.”
I took my bowl in my hands. “And don’t you forget that it’s yucky, either.”
Eva nodded. “Yep. Some words make people happy, and some words make people sad. And we shouldn’t make people sad with our words.”
Asia shook her head. “Nope. Only happy faces.”
Eva smiled. “Exactly. Only happy faces for us.”
The exchange warmed my heart as the three of us resumed the slurping of our soups. I felt relieved, more than anything, that this was going so well. So, I decided to sit back for a little while and watch the two girls interact. At first, there was silence after we ordered entrees. I settled on the surf and turf while my daughter ordered a big bowl of noodles, and Eva, ironically enough, ordered the same thing I did.
I wasn’t sure if she could put away that kind of food, but it was nice to be in the presence of a woman who ate something other than a bare salad.
“Whatcha drawing there?” Eva asked.
Asia hid the notebook from her. “It’s a secret. Can’t see until it’s done.”
Eva gasped playfully. “Am I gonna love it?”
Asia nodded. “I hope so.”
“Will we get to color it together afterward?”
Asia’s eyes lit up. “You like to color?”
Eva giggled. “I love to color. I use markers because they’re my favorite. What’s your favorite?”
Asia loosened her grip on the notepad. “Well, I kind of like paint. But, if we have to use pencil-like things, I really like colored pencils. Or gel pens!”
Eva started digging around in her purse. “A girl after my own heart. Here, I have a stack of gel pens at the bottom of my purse.”
Asia squealed. “You do? Do you have pink? Please say you have pink.”
Eva barked with laughter. “I’ve got various shades of pink in here. It’s my favorite color. I’ll pull them out and—”
Crash!
Something broke in the kitchen, and the sound ricocheted off the corners of the room we all sat in. Asia jumped so high out of her chair that I thought she’d fall onto the floor, so I reached out to steady her. But, when I heard that tell-tale wheezing, my heart stopped in my chest.
“Dadd-ddy,” she wheezed.
I stood up. “I’ve got your inhaler in my pocket. I just have to…”
I started feeling around for her inhaler, but I couldn’t locate it. I jammed my hand into my inside suit pockets and turned my hip pockets inside out. I looked around,
wondering if it had fallen onto the floor when I had sat down.
But then, Eva’s soothing voice caught my ears. “Come here. Let me help, Asia. We’re going to do something fun, okay?”
Asia started panting. “I need—I can’t—”
Eva took her hands. “Yes, you can. You got spooked, and your body locked up. You don’t need your inhaler, I promise. You just need to relax.”
I watched with pointed eyes as Asia began to cry.
“Please. Daddy—I just—”
Eva cupped her cheek. “Trust me, okay? Can you do that? Just this once?”
And when Asia nodded, I slowly sat back down.
“All right, think of your favorite place in the whole world, Asia. Mine is the ocean. I love the feeling of the sand between my toes and water sloshing over my skin. What’s yours?”
My daughter continued wheezing, and I started growing worried. But nonetheless, she answered the question.
“Chuck—Chuck E. Cheese.”
Eva sat down and carried my daughter with her. “Oh, that’s a great place. Pizza’s my favorite food. What kind of toppings do you like?”
My daughter clung to Eva. “Cheese—and…and pineapple.”
“Oh, that sounds yummy. I’m a ham, bacon, and mushroom person myself. And, I like dipping it in ranch.”
Asia attempted to laugh. “That’s gross.”
Eva shrugged. “Eh, not for everyone. But it’s my favorite. What’s your favorite game to play at Chuck E. Cheese? I like the ones that flash and give you lots of tickets.”
And to my surprise, Asia’s wheezing finally started dying down. “The, uh—the—uh… the pinball? No, the uh, skyball?”
“Skeeball?”
Asia smiled. “That’s the one.”
“Oh, I’m terrible at skeeball. The last time I tried it, I threw the ball so hard that it came flying right back at me! Hit me in the shins and everything.”
When I heard Asia draw in a near-lungful of air to laugh, I relaxed fully against my chair. I didn’t know how the hell Eva had managed to do it, but she had calmed my daughter down and thwarted the attack without her inhaler. I felt something pressing against my ankle, and I looked down, only to groan when I saw Asia’s inhaler beneath my fucking seat.
