Chapter 28 #2
of the TV next to the floor mop and broom. “I bounce on the ball and hold the sticks and it teaches me to keep my hands still,”
Ellie explained as she wriggled onto the ball and grabbed the mop and broom handles. “See?”
“That’s genius,” Olivia exclaimed as she watched Ellie go up and down. “And you look really good, those elbows are doing a
perfect hinge. Have you had a go with only one handle? See if you can keep the free hand steady without holding the stick.”
Smiling at their interaction, Connor retreated to the kitchen. He was about to start prepping the gnocchi with miso butter
prawns for Olivia—Ellie had eaten earlier—when he saw a message on his phone from Pat.
I need to beg a favor. Can you work tomorrow’s lunch shift?
Damn.
Just lunch? Livvy is here . . .
Immediately a message pinged back.
How did the chat with her work rival go?
He let a wry smile cross his lips.
Maybe I should have listened to you . . . but I think she’s forgiven me.
While he dumped the peeled potatoes into the pan—yes, he could have bought gnocchi, but cooking for Livvy made him happy—Pat’s
reply came back.
Only need you for lunch shift. I’ll be back for 3:00 p.m. You can leave at 3:05 p.m.—after giving me a full update.
He smiled and sent her a thumbs-up, then glanced over at the living room where Olivia was now riding the giant ball, her hips
moving in a way that reminded him of how she rode him . . .
Reluctantly he looked away. What was he going to do about tomorrow? Could he ask Olivia to look after Ellie? Was that fair
to either of them?
Figuring he could at least see if there was another option, he dialed his parents, then put the phone on speaker so he could
carry on prepping the miso sauce.
“Hi, Mum,” he called out when she picked up.
“Hello, Connor. How’s my granddaughter?”
“She’s good, thanks. And so am I,” he added dryly. “But I’ve agreed to work the lunch shift tomorrow. Are you around to look
after her?”
“Maybe you should have asked before you agreed to work it,” she replied tartly. “You’re twenty-eight, Connor. Time to stop relying on your parents to bail you
out of trouble.”
Frustration licked at his insides. Would his parents ever stop dragging up his history?
At the sound of a throat being cleared, he turned to find Olivia hovering on the edge of the kitchen. Fucking great.
Her eyes met his. “I can take care of Ellie tomorrow.”
This was what he’d been trying to avoid. He didn’t want her to feel she had to. Nor did he want to have this discussion with
his parents listening in.
“Who’s that?” His mother’s voice echoed into the kitchen from the phone on the worktop.
“Olivia. My girlfriend,” he added, because he liked the sound of it.
“And can we trust her with our precious grandchild?”
Christ. “I trust her with my daughter.”
He looked apologetically at Olivia, who nodded and walked toward the phone. “I appreciate your concern,” she said evenly into
the speaker, “but my sister trusts me with my nine-year-old niece. I’m sure I can manage a few hours with Ellie without her
coming to any harm.”
“Looks like the situation’s resolved, then. Thanks, Mum, speak to you later.” He jammed his finger on the Call End button
and turned to Olivia. “I have to work the lunch shift tomorrow.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I heard.”
She was pissed at him. He pried out her hands and clasped them in his. “I’m sorry, I know this is crap, but Pat doesn’t often
ask for a favor, and I kind of owe her.”
She nodded stiffly. “I understand.”
Okay, still pissed. “If you’re not cross that I have to work, what is it? And don’t tell me it’s nothing. I reckon I’ve got
a reasonable read on you now.”
Her hands shifted inside his. “Why didn’t you ask me to take care of Ellie instead of troubling your parents?”
That’s what she was upset about? “I was going to, but I wanted to see if they could do it first so you wouldn’t feel obligated.”
Her eyes locked with his. “So it’s not that you don’t trust me with her?”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, because if I had, it would make me question whether you really are as smart as I
thought you were.”
Her shoulders fell from where they’d been hunched near her ears. “Good answer.” Resting her head on his chest, she slid her
arms around his waist. “And now I’ve made such a big thing of it, would it be really pathetic of me to admit I’m panicked
at the thought of spending time alone with Ellie? What if she hates me?”
Connor tightened his arms around her. “Who have you spent the past fifteen minutes with? And I’ll give you a clue, it’s not
me.”
“I can’t talk horses for four hours.”
“She can.” When Olivia looked up at him with narrowed eyes, he kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re always telling me you’re
a smart, resourceful woman. And smart, resourceful women will have no problem entertaining an eight-year-old child for a few
hours.” He grinned. “I’ll give you one piece of advice: Don’t take her to the Tate.”
Olivia whacked his arm. “You’re meant to be reassuring me, not reminding me of how badly wrong I got it the last time I looked
after an eight-year-old.”
“Did Mia survive?”
“Of course.”
“Is she still talking to you?”
“She told me I’m her favorite aunt,” she replied smugly. “But I can’t tell Ashley or she’ll treat it as a competition and
plan evil ways of beating me.”
He smiled, reached for her ponytail, and eased off the black velvet scrunchie, allowing her hair to flow down her shoulders.
“Well, if you’re really worried about how to keep Ellie happy, you can always ask your favorite niece to help you.”
“I’d gain brownie points with both girls. I like it.” Her eyes scanned the worktop. “What are you making me?”
“Persuade Ellie it’s time she went to bed and you can find out.”
She set her shoulders and gave him a sharp nod. “I’ve got this, Chef.”