“Fine.” She concedes, “I'll call Elaine and have the contracts drawn up and sent over but promise me that you'll sleep on it and wait until the morning to call her. You're tired so you might not be thinking straight.”
I nod in response, knowing that it's too late to call now anyway.
“I'm just going to say goodbye to Madison before I leave.” She stands triumphantly, probably counting on me changing my mind once I've had time to think and makes her way to the door. “Oh, and if you do hire her.” she hesitates, “Do not leave me picking up the pieces of a sexual harassment lawsuit.”
She's never been a good loser.
Finally alone, I take a deep breath, soaking in the scent of delicate honey with floral notes of apple blossom and red fruit rising up as I swill the remaining ten-year old single malt around my glass.
Does she honestly think I’m going to be chasing after the nanny? It’s only been two years since I lost Sam and I still haven’t brought myself to empty her things from our room. Sure, we weren’t in great place when she died but she was my wife and I loved her.
I’m not ready to move on yet — I don’t think I ever will be.
Basking in the silence, I look around the home that we built. Everything reminds me of her.
When we took on the huge renovation job, we purposely chose a location that was remote enough not to have strange people just wandering on to the property for an autograph (which did happen a couple of times at our previous home) but close enough to a good school and parks so it would be easy for Maddie to play with the friends she's made.
It took us three years to get the place how we wanted it. Samantha managed the project while I was busy training so other than the fully kitted out gym and training area, it's not really my style. The creaky hardwood floors, the shiny chrome appliances and the marble counters in the kitchen are nothing like I imagined my house to be.
It's a nice house but I'll take comfort over aesthetics any day of the week.
The pitter patter of tiny footsteps echo down the hall and an enormous smile creeps across my face as I sit up to greet my girl.
“Daddy.” She stands in front of me with her arms crossed, scowling. “Auntie Sarah said you would read me a bedtime story and it's been so long.”
The big bright smile, wide eyes as blue as a tropical ocean and a sassy personality to go with it. She might have my eyes but she's more and more like her mother with each passing day and my heart bursts with love every time I look at her.
She's my absolute world.
“I'm sorry Mads, daddy was just tired. I'm coming now.” Rising from the sofa, I take her tiny hand in mine, and we slowly make our way down the long corridor, up the stairs and into her ridiculously pink bedroom. She lets go of my hand and pulls herself on to her bed, staring at me in anticipation. “What are we reading tonight then? The Enchanted Wood. The Ickabog?”
“Can you tell me a story about mummy?” She pulls the covers over her princess pyjamas and snuggles into her pillow with tired eyes. I want her to remember her mum, but I really wish I didn't have to be the one telling her. “Please daddy.” she begs, and I feel my expression soften.
How can I say no to her?
“Okay, how about I tell you about when mummy and daddy found out you were coming.” I sit on the edge of her bed, letting her cuddle up to me with her favourite teddy bear and I begin.
Ethan Brooks. I've been thinking about him non-stop ever since I left his house an hour and a half ago. Precisely two bus journeys and a twenty-minute walk. Note to self, once you get a job, save up to buy a car.
Heat rises in my body as my mind returns to the awkward moment in the hallway. The moment, like an idiot, I thought he was going to kiss me. Yeah, like that would ever happen!
It's not like I wanted him to either, he's so not my type. I mean, yeah, of course I thought he was hot. I'm not made of stone, but I don't tend to go for thugs who are probably riddled with sexually transmitted diseases because they've been with so many different women. I'll take a gentleman over a smoking hot bad boy any day of the week.
Standing in front of the grubby grey door marked '39', I dig my keys out of my bag, unlock the door, and walk into the cramped one-bedroom apartment, switching the light on as I enter. The smell of my sister's perfume filling my nostrils is so strong, I can almost taste it.
The front door opens straight into the tiny living room which also doubles as a kitchen and dining area, it's only a few steps before I can flop down on the sofa exhausted from the day’s events.
Damn! I was hoping Lexi would be home, so I would have someone to vent to about my tragic interview, but she must be out with friends tonight.
As I play through the interview in my mind, I cringe at how nervous I was. I've never been so intimidated in my life. I'm not usually such a mess. In fact, I'm normally the one who has everything figured out but ever since the break-up, my confidence has taken a bit of a beating.
It's not a shocker to think that I'm never going to hear from him again. I'm pretty sure the interview can be classed as a
