Chapter 3 #2
Her soft tone gives me pause. I look down into her hazel eyes, taking in the deep creases fanning from the edges.
A tendril of soft gray drapes loosely across them.
This woman has selflessly helped me throughout Nellie’s childhood, before and after Nellie’s mom, Jolene, died.
She guided me through my own. If she went behind my back to arrange help, she must be struggling but is too damn stubborn to say so.
My shoulders rise with a cleansing breath. “What else?”
“I have a love for chalk drawings and paint, and I love to play board games.”
“Those aren’t qualifications. What about CPR? First aid?”
“I’ll be trained by my first day,” she says brightly.
“And when is that exactly?”
She claps her hands together. “Monday!”
My molars snap together. “Let me guess. A weekend certification class down at the community center?”
“How convenient, right?” She bounces her brows.
Too convenient. A newcomer doesn’t just waltz into town and land an unpublished job inside a police officer’s house. Not without help.
Someone set me up. Someone close.
“Who’s the mastermind behind this plan?” I narrow my gaze at Mom at my side. “I know it wasn’t you.”
The back of her hand wallops my chest. “It was partially me. I love you and Nellie-Jo both dearly, but I’m getting old, son. I can’t stay up that late anymore. Not unless I’m gambling."
“You should have said something,” I murmur between us.
“If I thought you’d listen, I would have.”
I would have preferred her hiring a skywriter to tell me she’d had enough. Anything other than going along with this plan.
“The thing is, your schedule is hard on all of us.” Spencer slides his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders. “We’re happy to help you out when we can, but the late-night callouts require someone dedicated.”
“And as much as we can keep up on taking care of Nellie, the house is falling behind,” Cortney adds carefully.
Nellie’s dark hair is falling out of her braid. Without thinking, I tuck the loose strands behind her ear. When I look back up, Alice is watching me, the amusement usually present softening.
I clear my throat.
“So maybe there are dishes in the sink, and I have to do laundry between shifts, and Nellie’s clothes live in a clothing basket rather than a closet. It’s not the end of the world.”
Silas snorts.
“What?” I turn my irritation on my youngest brother.
“I’m sure you don’t remember the last time you ran through here with a duster or a mop.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if someone could help you keep up?” Whitney interjects before I can punch him. “Someone to keep Nellie on track and pick up the slack so when you have time off, you can just focus on your daughter and not have to clean up?”
The reality she describes would be nice. The guilt eats me alive when I can’t do as much as I’d like in our free time because my days off are filled with chores and prepping for the next time I’m gone.
Not that I’m ready to admit that out loud.
It’s just… her? Why did it have to be this woman, of all people?
“She’s my friend, Sutton,” Whitney continues gently as if reading my thoughts. I find her imploring gaze steady on me. “My best friend. She can be a little unserious at times, but her heart is in the right place, and she’s trustworthy.”
A little? I sink my teeth into my lower lip to bite back the mockery.
My instinct says I should cuff Ms. Thompson again and release her once she’s out of my house.
But my gut… My gut sees the people I trust most in this world demanding I give this a try and begins to back down.
Fuck.
“While I appreciate this extremely subtle ambush, I think I’d like some time to get to know Ms. Thompson alone and decide for myself.”
That sounds reasonable enough. I can ask her a few interview-style questions, let her do a trial on Monday, and after my shift, I’ll find some reason we’re not a good fit and let her go.
A reason that has nothing to do with the fact that my handcuffs were around her wrists this afternoon, and her sass is liable to drive me to madness.
“Enough of this Ms. Thompson. Call me Alice.” She winks at me, but I don’t miss the way she steals a glance over at Whitney when she thinks I’m not looking. Something passes between them. Gratitude? The brief message escapes my understanding.
“That’s fair,” Mom says, gathering her bag like her job is done. “Let’s give these three some time alone.”
I roll my eyes.
For her, this is a mission accomplished.
For me? It’s the beginning of a nightmare.
My family files out with brief goodbyes. Something I’m thankful for after the long day I’ve had and the conversation ahead.
Nellie kisses her grandma and skips off in the direction of her playroom.
I don’t miss the way Whitney, Cortney, and Alice exchange words before the two familiar women depart, drawing a conclusive arrow to the masterminds.
Alice squares up with her hips against my counter once the door bangs shut.
I step closer before I realize what I’m doing. Not close enough to touch but close enough to inhale her fruity perfume.
“I’m excellent with a mop.”
I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this.
“I work long hours.”
“I know.”
“Unfathomably long at times. Late nights. Early mornings. Unpredictable.”
Her head bobs. “I had a front-row seat this afternoon to what your job entails. I don’t have a problem with your schedule.”
“I can’t fathom why.”
She wets her lips with her tongue and tips her head. “Why what?”
“Why you want this job. I can be out the door as early as 5:30, and Nellie is in school 9:30-4 sharp Monday through Friday, no excuses. You’re cool to hang with her until I get home without knowing what time that actually is?
That means meals, appointments, taking her to dance.
You’ll have to get your car situation sorted immediately. ”
Her eyes move around my kitchen. She traces over the windows, the back door, and the hallway, almost as if she’s memorizing the exits.
A smirk settles on her lips, dragging my flighty attention to her mouth. I scold myself for even noticing.
“You don’t know this about me yet, but I was open to a live-in position.”
Over my dead body. This woman living under my roof would be like housing a wild animal. A rabid wild animal. Before I can verbally shut that shit down, she goes on.
“Your family thought you might need some time to ease into the arrangement first.”
“I’ll tell you right now, that’s never going to happen.”
“Fair enough, Officer Smiley.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“We’re going to make an excellent team, Officer Sunny.”
“And somehow that’s worse,” I mutter to no one in particular.
“What would you prefer?”
This isn’t going to last long enough to matter. “Sutton. Or Mr. Stone.”
She pulls a face. “Too formal. Sutton, it is. It’s getting late. Unless you want me to start right away and make you dinner, I’d like to get settled in my rental. Today’s been eventful.”
Exasperation tickles my jaw. “This isn’t going to work.”
“It already is.” She smiles, and my chest tightens. “See you Monday, Sutton.”
“I didn’t say you had the job.”
“You will.”
She brushes past me to grab her bag. I fix my glare at the ceiling as a shock of static zips up my arm. I don’t move until the front door bangs shut.
Only then do I cross the foyer to flip the lock and key in the code to the alarm.
Two things are abundantly clear.
Monday is going to be a disaster.
And somehow… she’s going to get the job.