Falling For Her Manny: A Sweet Workplace Romance (Single In the City Book 2)

by Tia Souders

  Blake swallowed. He had no response to that. He had told Jen about some of those things. How Mel had three kids and they all shared a bedroom. How she was a single mom, and he suspected she was struggling, that money was an issue. Because that’s what boyfriends do—share the details of their lives, their day, with their significant other. But he meant nothing by it. And maybe it was wrong, but as he stared at the pain in Mel’s expression, it felt like a betrayal. To her. Which was crazy. He had no allegiance to Mel.

  “She must’ve just assumed,” he said by way of explanation.

  Mel sighed. “Assumed that I must be poor because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth? She does realize I’m how the majority of people live, right? Just getting by?”

  “She’s just . . . naive.”

  Mel arched a brow, and with a smirk, said, “But she means well, right?”

  Blake’s throat went dry as she threw the very words he said about Mr. Garwood back at him.

  He nodded in confirmation. What more could he say?

  “Just because someone means well,” Mel said, her voice soft, “doesn’t make them right.” And with that, she left.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MEL

  Mel waited until the kids were asleep to call her parents. Not that she planned on recounting her afternoon for them, but still, she needed the kind of comfort only they could provide. If it had been a weekday, she might just spill to the girls and call it a day. But it was only Saturday night, and now that her parents no longer lived close by, she couldn’t exactly call an emergency meeting and haul Marti and Caroline to the freebie closet just so she could purge.

  She grabbed her phone off the kitchen counter, then dropped herself down onto the couch, wishing she had a bottle of wine to open.

  She exhaled and let her head fall back into the soft cushions. No matter how much she tried, the emotion swelling in her chest like a seed wouldn’t go away. Did Blake really think she was that bad off that she needed to attend a charity event? Or maybe he didn’t think those things, and it really had been all Jen’s personal assumptions. And what did it say about her pride that she was so offended that he had? There was no shame in needing help. But Mel didn’t. She was fine. Just fine.

  Either way, it hurt in a way Mel wished it didn’t. It stung in a way it shouldn’t. Maybe because Blake, too, came from nothing. She didn’t know the details of his upbringing, but as a foster child, there was no way he had much growing up.

  She shook her head and straightened. It didn’t matter. She shouldn’t care what he thought. Just like she shouldn’t be ashamed of their apartment, but all those old sticky feelings of inadequacy crept back to her like they’d never left. She wasn’t good enough for Craig to stick around. What if, no matter how hard she worked, it’d never be enough? What if she never got out of this apartment? With three teenagers, she’d drown.

  Unless . . .

  Right now, she was stuck in a rat wheel. Her job was decent, but three kids and New York rent, plus living expenses, left little room for savings at the end of the month. Yet moving meant the chance of lower cost of living, but she might struggle to find a job or make even less than she is now. After all, writing wasn’t always the most prolific of careers.

  But still, maybe moving away from New York altogether was her best option.

  Mel bit her lip.

  When her parents announced her father’s retirement and subsequent relocation, they mentioned her relocating with them. At the time, Mel wouldn’t think of it. But maybe Florida was her best option. Promotion or not, staying afloat was manageable, but would she ever really have all the things she dreamed of for the kids? A house with a yard and bedrooms for each of them, a dog, a better school, a savings account for college, summer vacations, no matter how small. If Craig hadn’t left her with so much debt, maybe . . . But she was still paying down those credit card bills on top of everything.

  If she moved near her parents, she’d have the advantage of interviewing before she made the plunge because she could stay with him. She’d only need to pay traveling expenses. Next year, the triplets would be in Kindergarten, but she’d have the help of her parents if she needed it. It would be easier to start fresh. To wipe the slate clean.

  She had said no before, claiming she loved her job and that her friends were there—in New York—and while that was all true, it wasn’t the only reason. If she dug deep enough, to the darkest parts of herself, she’d acknowledge that a small part of her didn’t want to leave because she was afraid Craig would never find her if he came looking. That the part of her she submerged in her subconscious still held out for the day he came back. In some of Mel’s wildest fantasies, he got kidnapped or hit by a car and lost his memory—he hadn’t just chosen to leave; he had no choice. But those were nothing more than silly dreams. After all, he had returned to retrieve his stuff, hadn’t he? In his usual cowardly fashion, he did it while she was at work. A month later, she received divorce papers in the mail, along with one of the few support checks she’d ever receive. He must’ve thought the money would soften the blow. He was wrong.

  She inhaled and glanced down at her phone. Mel loved her job, but maybe it was time for a change.

  She picked up her phone and dialed her mother because her father never had his on or couldn’t find it. After a minute, her mother answered, and the FaceTime image appeared on the screen. Only it wasn’t her mother’s face, but her neck, which was par for the course.

  “Oh, Jer, it’s Mel,” her mother yelled as the camera whirled. “She’s on that face thing.”

  “It’s FaceTime, Mom,” Mel said, speaking louder than normal because they could never hear her.

  Finally, her mother righted the phone, but like always, she focused at the bottom corner of the phone, at her own picture to make sure she was doing it right, instead of directly at Mel.

  Mel’s spirits instantly lifted. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, honey.” Her mother blinked, fluffing her hair as she looked at her image. “Your dad’s coming.” As soon as the words left her mouth, he appeared from behind her and scooted a chair next to her mother and joined her half on the screen. “Oh, here she is,” she said.

  Her father smiled, a thick mustache a new addition.

  “Dad, what’s up with the stache?” Mel asked, raising a brow.

  “Do you like it? I think it makes me look kind of sophisticated.” He stroked the end of his mustache while Mel stifled a laugh.

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “It looks like a caterpillar, and he’ll have an awful tan line when he goes to shave.”

  At her father’s indignant glare, Mel laughed. “It’s nice. Very debonair.”

  “So, how’s everything going? How are my peanuts?” her mother asked.

  “Good. Better, actually. They love the new nanny,” Mel said with a sad smile. “You’ll never believe it, but we’ve got them picking up their toys and putting clothes in the hamper.”

  “Ah, so they’re like well-trained monkeys now, huh?” Her dad smiled.

  “You could say that.”

  “That’s the male nanny?” Her mother squinted into the phone. It was her tell when she didn’t like something but wouldn’t come right out and say it, like she was hoping she heard wrong or something, and by squinting, she might hear right. Mel didn’t have the heart to remind her that her ears were not connected to her eyes.

  “Yeah. He’s great though.”

  “But he’s temporary, right?”

  “Yeah. He’s helping me find a replacement though for when he’s through.”

  “Oh, good. Good.” Her mother nodded. “Anything else new? Did you meet anybody new? Any new friends?” her mom asked in that trademark tone of hers that signaled she was trying to be subtle but wasn’t. “Friends” for her mother was usually code for “men.”

  “Not really,” Mel said, but an image of Blake flashed in her head.

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” Her mom frowned like she always did when she got
this answer. “I pray every day—”

  “I know, Mom. You pray every day that I’ll meet a nice man, and we’ll live happily ever after.” Mel rolled her eyes, forgetting they could see her.

  “I just want to see you happy.”

  “I know. But I am happy.” Why did she think calling them would make her feel better again?

  Her father turned to her mother now. “Don’t bug her, Pat. Leave her be. She’s living her life, happy as a single gal. It’s the way now.”

  “It’s the way now? I didn’t know you were “in”—her mother made air quotes, looking at her father—“with young kids these days and what they were doing?”

  “Everybody knows. I don’t live under a rock. It’s all dating and no commitment because you’re independent and free.”

  Her mother huffed. “She needs someone. Do you want her to be all alone forever?”

  “Well, no, of course not.”

  “Well, alright, then—”

  “Hello?” Mel said, interrupting their bickering. “I’m still here, and I can still hear both of you.”

  “Oh, sorry, dear,” her mother said. “Now, where were we?”

  “I was about to tell you that I might—might—consider seeing if I could find a job in Florida. If I can, and the offer’s good, I might consider moving out there.”

  Silence.

  Um, did she not just say that out loud?

  “Oh,” her mother rubbed her hands together, “that’s wonderful. I’m sure you’d be able to find something. But are you sure? Didn’t you just get that promotion?”

  Well, this wasn’t exactly the warm response she expected. She had thought they wanted her to move South with them, but they certainly weren’t acting like it.

  Mel’s hopes deflated like a balloon.

  “I did, and it’s amazing. I’m thrilled about it. But, even with the promotion, when am I going to be able to afford to buy a nice place? Even outside the city, the houses aren’t exactly in my price range. It’s not impossible, but I’d need to save first, and that could take a few years.” And Mel couldn’t imagine having three nine-year-olds sharing her bedroom with her still.

  “Well, whatever you decide, we’ll support you. You know that,” her father said, while her mother nodded.

  “Okay. Well, it’s just something to think about. I haven’t decided anything. Maybe once I start getting my increase in pay regularly, I’ll see where I’m at.”

  Somewhere in the background, an alarm sounded. Her mother was forever setting alarms to remind her of things. Sometimes, she set them, then forgot what they were supposed to remind her of. But this time, she blinked down at the phone and said, “Oh, that’s our alarm to remind us about Bingo at the church.”

  Great. So her parents had a better social life than she did.

  “Okay, I’ll let you go,” Mel said.

  “Love you. Give the kids hugs and kisses,” her mother said and then dropped her phone, right there on the table, forgetting to hit End first.

  Mel clicked off the call and tossed her phone onto the couch beside her. Strange that they seemed so weird about the prospect of her looking for a job near them. She thought they had wanted her to move close by. Now she didn’t know what to think.

  Regardless, she’d file the idea away. It was there and viable. A real possibility. But, for now, she’d take things one day at a time and see where things took her. Maybe they’d decide she was so amazing as managing editor, they’d give her an even larger raise than promised.

  Ha! One can dream.

  BLAKE

  BLAKE’S STOMACH TWISTED in knots as he knocked on Mel’s door Monday morning. He’d tried calling Sunday to apologize and smooth the waters, but no matter how many times he dialed her, she never answered. He had no idea what her silence meant. Maybe she was busy or just wanted the rest of the weekend to decompress. Or maybe she was so angry with him that she’d call the deal off and he’d be out of a gig.

  Before he was ready, she answered in a flurry of movement, waving him inside. He took in her flustered expression and asked, “Running late?” At least he hoped she was running late. It was either that or she was still angry.

  “Yeah. Majorly late. Kinsley was up half the night with a bad cough, so I got zero sleep, and I must’ve slept through my alarm.” Mel ran her hands through her tangled dark hair, mussing her bedhead further.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” With any luck, she was in such a hurry, Saturday was far from her mind.

  “Coffee. I need coffee.” She bit her lip, stress creasing her forehead. “But I have no time.”

  The leggings and t-shirt she must’ve worn to sleep clung to her every curve, and Blake tried his best not to stare. “I need to shower, then bolt,” she added, then started to turn away from him, and he realized that if he wanted to say something about the weekend, now was his chance.

  He caught her arm as she turned. “Wait. Mel . . .”

  She glanced back at him, eyes wide, as if startled.

  “About Saturday, I’m really sorry. I meant it when I said I had no idea. I would never—”

  “I believe you,” she said.

  He exhaled in relief but kept hold of her wrist a moment, reading her eyes. The warmth of her skin soaked through his bones. No trace of anger remained in her expression, so he had no choice but to take her word for it and hope he hadn’t truly hurt her feelings.

  “Are you sure? Because—”

  “I’m positive.” She tried for a smile, which fell a little flat. But then she offered him a little shrug. “It was . . .” She chewed her lip for a moment, her eyes darting to the left as she chose her words. “. . . embarrassing, I guess? And I might’ve let my pride get the best of me, so I’m sorry if it caused any tension for you and Jen. I probably overreacted. It’s kind of a sensitive subject for me, but you’ve never treated me like anything but a mother and a woman, the same as anyone else. And I don’t see you as being the type to judge the haves and have nots, so I believe you.” She nodded in affirmation. “No harm done.”

  Blake exhaled with relief. “Good. Good,” he repeated, though he still felt kind of crappy about it. Maybe it was because he had expected more of an effort in smoothing the waters.

  “Um . . . My arm?” Mel lifted it slightly, and Blake realized he still had a hold of her. “I might need it to shower.”

  “Oh!” Blake dropped her arm and offered a nervous laugh. “Sorry.”

  Mel glanced at the clock. “Looks like I have five minutes. I better hurry,” she said, hustling toward the bathroom.

  “No worries. I’ll get the kids as they get up,” he said to her back. “You just get ready. I’ll make coffee, and . . .”

  Why did it seem like he was rambling? And why was he staring after her like some kind of creep.

  She waved him on as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

  He shook his head at himself, then headed into the kitchen to make coffee, wondering what his problem was. He was being weird, and he needed to snap out of it.

  After the coffee started brewing, he headed toward the bedroom to see if the kids were awake. The last thing Mel needed was them getting in her way in her haste to leave since she had zero time to spare. He poked his head in her bedroom to find the kids mostly asleep, although Kinsley was stirring, so it was hard to tell.

  He crept further inside to get a closer look when a few moments later, the door opposite him burst open. His head whipped in the direction of the sound, and his jaw dropped.

  He froze. His heart stopped beating. The world stopped spinning as a naked Mel stood in front of him. Water glistened off her milky-white skin and dripped from the dark ropes of her hair onto the floor. When her eyes met his, her hands flew to her ample chest and to the spot between her legs as she screamed. “What are you doing? Get out!”

  Oh, crap. Blake squeezed his eyes closed until he saw red spots.

  He totally just stood there, staring like a perv. But it wasn’t his fault. S
he caught him off-guard. He was unprepared.

  “I didn’t see anything,” he answered quickly—the understatement of a lifetime. He saw everything. It was as if time slowed down for those blissful seconds to allow him to get an eye-full. And he wasn’t gonna lie, he hadn’t minded. Not one bit.

  “Out!” Mel screamed again as Blake—hand over his eyes—fumbled for the door opening.

  By this time, he heard a rustling sound, followed by the soft voices of Brady and Peter asking what was happening.

  Blake turned, eyes squeezed tight, arms out, trying to feel his way for the doorknob. His head smacked something hard—the doorframe he thought—and he groaned.

  Once he cleared the bedroom and was back in the living room, the door slammed behind him.

  Removing his hand from his eyes, he bent forward, forearms on his thighs as he tried to wipe the image of a nude Mel from his brain. The last thing these kids needed was their manny fantasizing about his boss. And the last thing he needed was to fantasize about anyone, let alone the woman who entrusted the care of her children with him every day.

  His boss. With a body like that. Holy crap, just the thought was sexy.

  “Erase, erase, erase,” he growled, rubbing his temples.

  The coffee pot sputtered, signaling the end of its cycle and interrupting his thoughts, so he did the only thing he could do in this situation—distract himself.

  He headed into the kitchen and poured himself a cup first, then found a travel mug for Mel and filled it as well. The least he could do after totally invading her privacy and seeing her naked was offer her some coffee to-go.

  When he heard the door open, he headed into the living room and sheepishly held the travel mug out to her—a peace offering. He didn’t dare meet her eye when she snatched it from his hand, a trio of rug rats trailing her groggily.

  Blake greeted the kids who announced they wanted to watch cartoons before breakfast, then waited as Mel grabbed her briefcase and jacket. When he stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the door, he said, “I’m sorr—”