It takes her a second to realise I’m not moving before she halts and turns around. “What do you mean?” Her brow is furrowed but her eyes show intrigue.
“I could give you a job. At the workshop.”
She grins then starts laughing. “Oh, I get it. Is this a sexy kind of job? Are you going to fit the upstairs apartment with a pole so I can dance for you? ’Cause, I’ve gotta tell you, buddy, I don’t possess that kind of coordination.”
A chuckle bounces out of my chest as I shake my head. “Of course not. I mean a legitimate paying job.”
“What kind of job?”
“You’ve been organising your family for years, right?”
“Ah, yeah?”
“OK. So, why don’t you transfer those skills to organising me?”
“Organise you, how?”
“This may surprise you, Darcy, but I’m shit at paperwork.”
“I’m listening.”
“I haven’t put anything in a filing cabinet for years. It all gets tossed in the back office and forgotten about. Whenever I need something, it’s a fucking nightmare. If you think you’re up to the task, I could do with the help. We’ll call you the office administrator and you can work school hours, so you’re home when the kids are. We’ll set it all up legitimately through my business manager and I won’t overpay you at all.”
She’s smiling now. “I like that you added that last part, because I’m going to hold you to it.” She holds a finger up, pointing at me with a stern look on her face.
“I will pay you whatever the going rate is. I won’t even control that part, my accountant will,” I promise, holding up my hands to show I’ll have no part in that decision.
Her hands move to her hips and she nods slowly. “That could work,” she says. “But no hanky-panky unless it’s our lunchbreak, all right? You don’t get to pay me to have sex with you.”
I grin. “I’ll be a total gentleman. I promise.” Most of the time.
She nods. “I’ll have to think about that some more. Can I think about it?”
“Of course. You say the word and the job is yours.”
“What happens if I say no?”
I shrug and rub my hand over the back of my head. “I find someone else to do it?”
“So you really do need someone?”
I laugh. “Yeah, it’s a disaster in there. I actually put an ad on SEEK last year, but quickly learnt that giving out my name brought out the crazies, not people actually looking for a job. I truly need help, and I believe your skills are what I’m missing.”
When we take to walking again, she asks questions about what I’ll need her to do and when I’d need her to start. We agree to three days a week at first to see how we go, and by the end of the conversation I’m feeling as though she’s seriously considering the offer. To me, it’s the perfect solution. She gets a job with the hours she wanted, and I get the assistance in the office I need while helping her. And it certainly doesn’t hurt that I’ll get to see her for a few hours each day. All she has to do is say yes. But, like with all our decisions, we have to take our kids into account. Niall won’t really give a fuck. He’d be weird if I suddenly had Darcy in the apartment all the time, but he’s not going to object to me working with her. Archer is the most accepting kid in the world and will probably want to come and see us working because he’ll consider it fun. Then there’s Abigail. And Abigail won’t like the idea at all…
THIRTY-TWO
DARCY
“Leo offered me a job today,” I tell Nana while we’re straightening up after the kids have gone to bed. She’s making us a pot of tea while I clear up the board games Archer and Abby have been playing all afternoon. A storm rolled in at about two o’clock and the rain hasn’t let up since. It was actually nice seeing them spend time playing together. I’ve missed seeing their interactions since we moved here. Hearing them giggle together—and even squabble—was like music to my ears.
“Oh?” Nana says as she fills the pot with hot water. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days? I’ve always preferred to go with the technical term, cunnilingus.”
“Very funny.” I slip the games into the storage drawers of her wall unit then return to the kitchen to fetch mugs. “It’s an admin job at his workshop. Doing all of the paperwork and filing for him.”
“Oh, well, that sounds like it could be a wonderful solution for you. And I suppose if it‘s a disaster, it’ll still give you something to put on your résumé.” She can put a positive spin on everything.
“I’m hoping it does work out. He said I can work school hours too. It’ll be win-win.”
“And you get more one-on-one time with your hunky beau.” There was never any hiding the fact Leo and I were together from Nana. I swear she smelled him on me the moment I walked in the door from spending the afternoon with him. She feels like the greatest matchmaker on earth. “That makes it all the more enticing.” She gives me a wink as she places the lid on the teapot and we both move to the table outside to enjoy the cool of the storm from our undercover vantage point.
“Do you think that makes it a bad idea, though? Being together and working together?”
She shrugs and pours our tea. “Lots of couples work together, sweetheart. And you and Leo don't really get to spend a lot of time together anyway. I say go for it, but I’m never one for caution, you know that. I’d prefer to burn hot for a short time over simmering slowly forever. What do you want? I think that's the only real question. What does your gut tell you?”
Lifting my mug, I blow on the steaming liquid. “It’s telling me to be careful because things are good with Abigail right now. I don't want to mess that up by taking a job that could set her off.”
“Pish, child. I understand your concern, but Abigail is a fourteen-year-old girl who needs to grow up. Her father turned out to be an arsehole and that’s upsetting, but life goes on. She has a good life here. And you’re already doing the right thing by the children keeping your romantic relationship with Leo out of their sight, but if you’re going to let Abby’s behaviour stop you from taking a job to support her and her brother, then that’s taking it a bit too far for me. You are your own woman, Darcy. If she kicks up a stink, well, I’ll have something to say about it. You take that job, pet. I’ll have nothing else.” She gives this nod of finality, resolution in her eyes as she stares into the dark rainy evening.
A smile curves my lips. This is the thing you should know about my nana: she’s an incredibly determined woman whose wealth did not come from family or male companionship. Every penny she’s made came by her own hands. Those kimonos she always wears? The patterned silk they’re made from is designed by her and sourced by some of the top fashion labels on the planet. In her life and in her business, she’s been scoffed at, joked about, put down and chided at every turn. And never has she allowed another human on this earth dictate their terms and sway her from her goals. Not her father, not her mother, not her husbands and certainly not her own son. She’d rather be alone than allow herself to be compromised. Which makes her pretty badarse in my opinion.
I think that’s a huge part of why I came straight to her when my life fell apart. While my sister—and even my mother—would have taken us in, Nana is the one person I know who would pick me up and force me to get my shit together in the best and most loving way possible. I think that’s what she’s trying to do here, and I hear her. Abigail is my daughter, so she doesn’t have the right to tell me how to run my life. She can be hurt that her father has left, but ultimately, she needs to trust in the person who stayed—me. And I need to trust myself to make the tough decisions whether they upset Abby’s balance or not. When the choice to support my children is between a casual waitressing job or a stable admin job, the logical and best decision is to choose stability. Nana is absolutely right.
“I’ll take the job,” I say, nodding along with my certainty. “It’s the right choice.”
“Of course it is, dear.” Nana touches my
arm then sits back, crossing her legs as she takes a sharp inhale. “I think I’m going to get a tricycle.” That is probably the last thing I expected to come out of her mouth.
“A what?”
“A tricycle,” she repeats. “Like a bicycle but with three wheels.”
“I know what they are. Why do you want one?” Aren’t they only made for small children?
“They have ones with motors on them nowadays so you don’t have to pedal as hard. I can use one to get around town, pick up the shopping, visit people. I bet I could get Betsy interested in one too. We could go riding together. Start a gang.” She grins, her eyes dancing as she meets mine.
The visual has me smiling. “And what would your gang be called?”
She thinks for a moment, her lips working together as her eyes narrow. “The Bayside Biddies. We could get T-shirts.”
I have to put my tea down so I don’t spill any as I laugh. “Oh Nana, I’d really like to see that.”
“Good,” she says. “Because I’m doing it.”
THE RAIN CONTINUES into the next morning, and I lie in bed, listening to the pitter-patter when my alarm goes off at five. “No romantic walk for me today.” I sigh, feeling put out because it’s my favourite part of every morning. It’s the only time of the day when Leo and I can be alone, touch each other openly, kiss… oh God, how am I supposed to get through today without it?
It sounds dramatic, I know. But if you’d been on the receiving end of one of Leo’s all-consuming kisses you’d feel the same. I suppose it’s going to be a great benefit of working with him, even if the weather is horrible I’ll still get to see him. And kiss him.
My phone buzzes on my bedside, an image of Leo lying in bed, his hair all scruffy, his jaw coated in stubble. The caption reads, raining
Love is a Beach: a romantic comedy Page 22
