24. Fia
Fia
Idon’t have much time to think about the way Caden looked at me, like he was on the cusp of something more.
I don’t have time to think about how water beaded across his broad chest as he stood mere inches from me.
Or how our discussion rode the line, inching towards something personal, something intimate.
All of it was cut short by a cry that pulled me right back to my reality.
I have a little girl who needs me. Who needs me to not get derailed by confusing feelings over a man who continually keeps saving the day. Eventually he’ll tire of it.
When I spring through the bedroom door, Daisy’s standing in her travel crib, with fat, hot tears streaming down her face, waiting for me.
I switch on the lamp in the corner of the small bedroom and check her gums. They are red and agitated.
“Shit,” I murmur, looking around the room like a First-Time Mom Manual will suddenly appear out of thin air.
Daisy was sleep trained at a young age. It was the only choice I had because if she didn’t sleep, I wouldn’t either, and my opportunity at a full-time job would be out the window. We’ve slept apart for almost a year now, but tonight I break my own rules.
I draw the curtains to darken the living room and make a nest in the corner of the sectional. With her little warm body against my chest, I recline in the cocoon of pillows, and we stay like that until one in the morning when I wake to the sound of Hamburger darting around the space.
I place Daisy back in her crib and collapse into my own bed, too tired to even wash my face. Hamburger joins me, purring as he curls up near my shoulder.
Twenty minutes later, I flinch awake to my cat choking up a hair ball. Directly beside my face onto the pillow.
“You’ve got to be kidding me right now,” I moan groggily, fighting back tears as I roll away from the crime scene. Reaching for my phone, I squint in the dark, nervous to see the time.
1:30 AM.
I have to be up for work in less than six hours.
All I want to do is pull the luxurious bedding up around my head and close my eyes, but instead I shuffle to the kitchen, grabbing paper towels and cleaner so Hamburger’s hair ball doesn’t stain the expensive silk bedding.
At least what I said to Caden wasn’t a lie . . . One minute in my life, and any man would be running out the door.
“Are you okay?” Halle asks, stopping in front of me as I hunch over the table in the back corner, fiddling with the employee schedule.
“Yeah,” I grumble, my hand in my uncombed hair. “Schedules just suck. They remind me that people have fun lives outside of this place. I know I’m being unnecessarily negative, but seriously, I haven’t been on vacation since high school. And that was with Brett’s family, so it doesn’t count.”
Halle drops down into the chair across from me, arms folded over her chest. She smells like the peach Danishes she just finished lining the pastry cabinet with. It makes my stomach growl—I forgot to bring my lunch today.
It’s almost time for me to go home for the day, and thank god, because my head is pounding from lack of sleep . . . and food.
“How about this.” Halle bumps her knee with mine.
“When the house situation is all over, and I have my teaching job, we will plan a trip together. Even just a weekend trip. Maybe Penny can watch Daisy, and you and I can go away. We could finally go to the Biltmore together.” She raises her eyebrows, clearly excited by the idea. “It would be a celebration!”
“I love you, Hal.” I smile despite feeling like a zombie. “That sounds great.”
Her easy smile remains. “How’re the repairs going, by the way?”
I shrug, letting the screen go black on the tablet, temporarily giving up on the employee schedule.
“They’re good.” I hold up my hand, pausing to yawn. “Caden’s been the main contact, and he hasn’t had any updates for me for a few days, so I guess no news is good news.”
Halle taps the top of my hand. “See—told ya things would all work out.”
“Yeah, Caden’s been really helpful through this all.”
Halle leans on the table, resting her chin on her forearms, batting her lashes at me. “Hmm. So Daddy Brooks actually has a heart under that hard exterior?”
I fight back a tiny grin. “He’s different outside of this place.” I glance up, looking around the cafe. “He’s really sweet with Daisy,” I add softly.
“And with you?”
I roll my eyes. “He’s been a good boss.”
Halle lifts her brows. “I feel like at this point you could call him your friend.
I snort, pushing my chair back dramatically.
“Friends?” I laugh, but then my thoughts come to a screeching halt.
Are we friends? By definition, yes. But . . .
“He doesn’t mix business and pleasure,” I add too fast. “And I think friends would fall under the pleasure category.”
Halle tilts her head, a mischievous smirk blooming across her lips. “There are a lot of things that fall under the pleasure category . . .”
“Halle!” I shush her, frantically looking over my shoulder. “Remember, you’re not supposed to know about this.”
She sits back, though she’s still smiling. “Sorry, my life is just dull. Between work and summer classes, and striking out on the dating apps for months, I need something to cling on to. A beacon of hope.”
I shake my head, pointedly grabbing the tablet and opening the schedule again. “Well, sorry to break it to you, babe, you’re going to have to find that beacon somewhere else. There’s no story here,” I reply with a sigh.
But there’s a lump in my throat thinking about Caden’s lingering eyes in the pool last night.
“Fine.” Halle stands, stretching her arms. “Just take that tablet with you and finish the schedule at home. It’s quiet today.” She nods towards the cafe with its single student sitting behind a laptop, napping with her chin in her palm. “Go get some sleep.”
I happily oblige.
Though the promise of sleep goes right out the window when I show up at Luanne’s to find a toddler who is more than just fussy, but burning up, pulling on her little ears.
I want to cry along with her as I plug urgent care into my maps app and accept that this is my fate for tonight.