Chapter 5
Five
JOSEPHINE
Unknown Number: Can we meet somewhere to speak?
Unknown Number: Please return my call when you get the chance.
Unknown Number: I’m available any time, just let me know. Your mother offered me the week off to prepare.
Unknown Number: I’ve left you several messages. Are you getting them?
Unknown Number: Josephine, we leave in two days. I’d really like to discuss the situation with you before we board an international flight.
As I lay flat on my bedroom floor, staring at the five texts I’ve ignored, it occurs to me that I might be being petty. Or a coward. Or both. Whatever the case, it’s not a good look—but, come on . I went into what I thought was a meet and greet with a prospective employer for a job I really wanted to get, and instead found myself in the most awkward situations of my life.
Maybe there are some women out there who would have handled it with dignity and come up with some brilliant evasive maneuver to get out of the whole thing. Not me. I sat there, nodding mutely while my mother went on and on about what a good opportunity it is for both of us and how the stars aligned .
Yeah, they aligned alright. A little too well. Because now, I will be living with and working as a nanny for my one night stand.
The one night stand, who I haven’t been able to bring myself to face yet. Partially because the shock hasn’t quite worn off, and partially because the hurt hasn’t either.
It was probably stupid of me, or na?ve, but I really thought he would call. I haven’t been on a ton of first dates, but there’s been enough to know they’re generally pretty awkward. Lots of silence and obligatory introductory questions, all while wondering if my hair is starting to get all frizzy in the back.
They’re hard , but being with Ellis was easy . Sleeping with him didn’t feel like a one night stand, or even sex after the first date. I went home feeling happier than I can remember being in a really long time, forgetting the reason I’d fled the party in the first place until my mother knocked on my bedroom door to apologize. We talked, and while she still isn’t on board with me taking time off, she did admit she trusted my judgement and thought she had an idea of something for me to do.
It’s pretty embarrassing that my heart sank a little at the possibility of spending half a year in another country when I’d met a guy I really liked. After all, I hadn’t imagined the way he was looking at me, or the way he’d held on just a little longer when he dropped me off. Men don’t want to steal a few more seconds of intimacy with one night stands, do they ?
Then, one day passed. Then two. Then three… and I still stubbornly believed he was going to call, probably with a really good excuse about why he hadn’t earlier.
He liked me, I was so sure of it, and I liked him back. Whenever I picked up my phone this past week, hoping to see a call or text from him and being disappointed each time, it hurt. Or I hurt myself by hoping this was the start of a love story. It isn’t one. This is real life, and sometimes you lose your virginity to a guy in the backseat of a car, and he doesn’t call.
Oof. When did I become a bad stereotype?
In Mom’s office, as the horrible, awkward star alignment settled over us, I’m pretty sure Ellis and I both lost the ability to speak. Or, more likely, we were each trying to find a reason this arrangement wouldn’t work, when my mother (who comes equipped with a genius level IQ and excellent deductive reasoning skills) listed off the reasons it would .
I told her I needed a change. Ellis needed a nanny comfortable caring for and teaching autistic children, and I’m qualified.
What could I say?
What could he say?
We were backed into a corner, and the only thing to do was agree.
My stomach twists every time I remember his set expression, or the way he stared at me with none of the warmth or familiarity we shared during our one and only night together. He couldn’t do or say anything in front of my mom— his boss —but still, it stung, and it’s yet another reason why I’ve been avoiding this meeting with him. What if he pretends nothing happened, or, worse, tells me it was a mistake? The jury’s still out on whether I think it was, but I’m not sure my ego could stand the hit if he did.
Strangely, the whole thing hasn’t turned me off dating as much as I expected. In an uncharacteristic show of defiance, it’s only made me more determined to find someone who will call. Before I do that, though, I need to get through an eight-hour international flight and six months in a foreign country with the first guy who didn’t .
While nobody seems quite sure of what the late, eccentric Weston alumni left behind, the consensus seems to be he was an avid collector of rare books, and his library is massive. Apparently, the school has allocated funds for Ellis to spend six months sorting the whole mess out. It could take less time, or more, depending on what he finds when he gets there. When we get there.
Six months in the French countryside.
It sounds like a dream come true. I should be excitedly looking up mini trips to take on the weekends and listening to “learn French fast” podcasts. Most people my age would fight me for this opportunity, but I haven’t even started packing. My mother has been at a conference most of the week, and my father wouldn’t notice if the house caught fire, so there wasn’t anyone to ask questions about why I’m not over the moon. After all, I told them I wanted to take time off, to travel, and now I am.
Maybe.
Everything has happened so fast. The last few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster, and everything seems to hinge on the talk with Ellis I’ve been avoiding.
Now it’s Wednesday night and I’m lying on the floor of my not packed bedroom, knowing I’ve officially run out of time. Either I tell my parents I’ve changed my mind and want to stay the course with my degree, or I go to France. It’s time to put on my big girl pants and do the thing. Reluctantly. Wearing waterproof mascara, just in case.
My heart is lodged in my throat as I pick up my phone and type out a text, pressing send before I can second guess the decision.
Josephine: Hi. I can meet you tomorrow.
He responds within thirty seconds.
Ellis: Hi! Great! I’m taking Zoe to Monkey Do at 1pm. We have a membership, so if you let them know at the desk they won’t charge you. Do you want to meet us there, or come to the house later? I don’t have a sitter, or I would meet you somewhere else.
His friendly tone disarms me. Was I expecting him to be rude? No. Frosty seemed likely, though, or at least cool and professional as he’d been in Mom’s office. As I stare at the screen, considering my options, little bubbles to indicate he’s typing appear then disappear twice.
Josephine: 1pm at Monkey Do. Sounds good.
Monkey Do turns out to be one of those big, indoor play places.
As soon as I walk through the front doors, I’m almost bowled over by a harassed-looking mother who is carrying a sobbing toddler, and holding the hand of an older child who is whining loudly about having to go.
She shoots me an apologetic look as I double back to hold the door for her, and I offer an understanding smile in response. Her day is clearly way more stressful than mine. Almost being run into seems tame by comparison.
Once they’ve passed and I’ve stepped back inside, I pause, scanning the space. I’m standing in the small lobby area of a big, open room, all centered on a massive padded play structure. Brightly colored booths surround it, all occupied by parents or grandparents, watching their kids play while chatting with each other, scrolling on their phones or just staring off into the distance.
Fighting back the overwhelming instinct to run right back to my car, I blow out a long breath and stride forward, approaching the teenage desk attendant. “Hi,” I begin, smiling tentatively. “I’m here to meet Ellis Delvaux? He said they have a membership and—” She buzzes me through the little gate without a word, and returns to staring at her phone.
I wipe my damp palms on the skirt of my summer dress and step through into the play area. Even while I’m practically vibrating with nerves, my heart lifts a little as I make my way past kids zooming in every direction. It’s adorable in here. They’ve clearly gone to some lengths to make the space accessible to everyone, and it’s kind of amazing to see differently abled children all happily playing together.
As I round the far corner of the play structure, dodging kids as I go, my throat tightens at the sight of a silver-haired man sitting alone at a booth twenty yards away. I stop dead. There he is. Ellis Delvaux. Librarian, single father, and the man responsible for my bruised heart.
Gone is the crisp white shirt, the vest and the neatly combed hair I saw the night of the party, and again in Mom’s office. In their place is a faded Weston Alumni t-shirt bearing a red stain, disheveled hair, and dark bags beneath his eyes.
He’s leaning back in the booth, looking off into the play area, both hands cradling a cardboard coffee cup. As I watch, his eyes close and he takes a long drink from it, allowing himself a brief moment of respite before returning to readiness. As if he senses he’s being watched, Ellis turns, meeting my gaze from twenty feet away.
A shiver of awareness runs through me, and it takes some effort to drag my feet off the ground and move forward. When I finally do, Ellis hurries to stand. “Josephine. Hi,” he says, pale eyes searching my face. “Thank you for coming.”
“Hi, Ellis.” I manage a polite smile.
Clearing his throat, Ellis gestures to the booth in wordless invitation and we both sit. There’s a Cheerio stuck to the shoulder of his t-shirt. “Ah, how are you?”
God, how did I forget how attractive his accent was? Every word flows like honey, smooth and sweet. He might have been reading poetry rather than making awkward small talk. Judging by the interested looks he’s getting from the moms in the booth behind him, I’m not the only one affected by it.
“Fine.” I set my bag on the bench beside me and lean back, trying my best to look confident and unruffled. “You wanted to talk?”
His throat bobs. “I thought we should clear the air.” I’m not going to make this easy on him, so I wait, watching as he grapples with what to say. “I apologize if I led you on, if I’ve hurt you.” His voice is strained, desperate even, but I refuse to read into it or wonder why. I already knew he wasn’t interested, so why does this final confirmation sting so badly?
“Okay. Um. That’s fine,” I tell him at last, letting my gaze fall to the scuffed tabletop. Damn it. That’s fine? Why did I say that?
I was so determined to show up here and show him he hasn’t hurt me, but I can’t get it together. There’s no way to pretend I didn’t like him. I really freaking liked him, and now he knows it. As if this situation wasn’t mortifying enough to begin with.
Steeling myself, I look up again and my eyes catch on a few of the moms sitting together at the table behind Ellis. They’re eyeing me speculatively, but look away when they see I’ve noticed them, pretending to be engrossed in conversation.
My heart sinks. Maybe he’s slept with them, too. Maybe he does this all the time, and I was na?ve enough to fall for the sweet, bashful librarian act. Or—my stomach twists—maybe he just had a bad time.
Oh god, am I bad at sex?
“I handled it poorly,” Ellis tries again, speaking in a low rush. “I hope, given the circumstances, we can set it aside. Start fresh? I’d very much like us to be friends.”
My heart sinks. Right. The circumstances. “To be honest, I’m not sure this, me going to France, I mean, is such a good idea,” I tell him tightly. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with someone you don’t have this kind of history with? Maybe there’s another?—”
“I looked at your resume,” he interjects, eyes bright. “You’re more than qualified. Zoe would be lucky to have you and...” His expression twists. “Frankly, I’m desperately in need of help, and not above begging. We wouldn’t have to mention the way we met ever again if you’d rather forget it. You have my word. I’ll be nothing but professional.”
As we study each other, something hot and restless shifts beneath my skin. There’s no earthly reason for me to believe him, but I do. Just like the night we met, there is something about this man that strips away all my second-guessing and reservations.
It’s hard to accept that maybe Ellis isn’t the villain in all this. He isn’t the guy who didn’t call, he’s the guy who really couldn’t call. Not because he got into a car accident or had a family member die, or any of the other excuses that ran through my head as the days passed without hearing from him. No, Ellis is just a tired, stressed single dad who is already so overwhelmed by life that he couldn’t take me on too.
Maybe, just maybe, all my instincts about him were right. There might have been a genuine connection between us, but—no, I know there was. I feel it now, even as we sit stiffly on opposite benches of a bright yellow booth, a world away from our one and only night together .
It would be a lot easier if I wasn’t attracted to him, or at least feel enough rejection and anger to lie to myself about it. It’s no use, though. He’s so handsome, even with a Cheerio on his shoulder and what looks like a smear of ketchup on his shirt. The sexy, surreal veil has been lifted, and now we can see each other in broad daylight. He knows who I am, I know who he is, and all the ugliness of our lives that we glossed over for one almost perfect night is laid out on the table between us.
I still want him.
God, that stings.
A horrible possibility occurs to me. “You’re not just doing this because you’re afraid of me being upset with you and telling my mother, are you?”
Ellis grimaces. “I would like to think my first impression of you was correct, and you’re not the sort of person to be vengeful. Surely if you were so angry with me that you wanted to ruin my life, you’d have done so the day we met in your mother’s office.”
He’s right, I’m not. Especially knowing he has a daughter to take care of.
Reluctantly, I nod. “So if I did come—” My sentence breaks off, though, because someone has appeared at the edge of the table.
The little girl is unquestionably Ellis’s daughter. She has his eyes, his skin tone, and beneath a layer of baby fat, I can see a hint of the sharp cheekbones that got me into this mess to begin with. Her dark brown hair is pulled into two neat braids, and while Ellis looks more than a little worse for wear, his little girl is clean and obviously well cared for.
She bounces on the balls of her feet beside the table, hands flapping indignantly, and Ellis is instantly at attention. I watch as he reaches into the bag at his side to produce a pink, sparkly water bottle. Zoe snatches it and brings it to her lips. As she drinks, she looks over at me for the first time.
“Hello, Zoe.” There’s no need for me to pretend to smile at her. “My name is Jo. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Zoe pauses for all of half a second before thrusting the bottle back into her father’s waiting hands and racing off to the row of silk sensory swings.
“She’s adorable,” I say as I turn back to Ellis, finding a composure in his expression that wasn’t there previously.
“Thank you.” He smiles gently. “She’s made a lot of progress with her speech in the past year. I’ve arranged for her occupational and speech therapy to continue remotely, but getting her to cooperate might be an uphill battle.”
Something about his tone, which sounds as though he’s practiced being strong even when he’s so clearly exhausted, makes my heart twist with sympathy. His hands are resting on the table before him, and for just a second, I wish I could reach out and take one. Does this guy have anyone in his corner? Who does he lean on when things get hard?
It doesn’t matter. That’s not what Ellis Delvaux needs from me. He needs a nanny, and I need to break out of my bland, lonely life now, before I get stuck in it forever.
Going to France with him might be a bad idea, but good ideas haven’t gotten me anywhere. I’ve spent years doing the logical, responsible thing, and all I have to show for it is mild-to-moderate depression and a life about as interesting as drying paint. Agreeing to this is risky, probably stupid, and there are about fifty ways it could go wrong, but it feels right.
Something defiant and bold seems to rise inside me, and before I can second guess the decision, I nod. “We’ll figure it out.”
Ellis’s entire demeanor changes. “ We? You’re coming?” he asks hopefully, eyebrows high.
“Yeah.” I hadn’t made up my mind, not fully anyway, until coming here, but now… Well, now I just need to focus on keeping myself from catching feelings for the man before me. That is one bad idea I refuse to give into.
It seems to take a moment for this to sink in before Ellis sags with relief, smiling at me gratefully. “Thank you. Really, Josephine. It’s very good of you to agree.” He glances at Zoe again, then back to me, serious again. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable around me?”
His question takes me off guard, and it takes me a moment to piece together why I’m so confused. I am comfortable around him. Which is weird. I shouldn’t be, right? Even he seems to think so.
I shake my head and reach blindly beside me to grab my bag. “I’m okay. Really. I’ll see you in a few days.”
As I go to stand, however, Ellis’s hand flashes out to catch my wrist. We both freeze and he drops it immediately, grimacing in apology. “I’m sorry. I know I said we could pretend it never happened, but before we do… I just—I wanted to explain properly. At least once.”
He lowers his voice and, behind him, one of the moms who was eyeing him when I came in leans forward, trying to be subtle in her eavesdropping. “I should have made it clear before we… before anything happened, that I’m not in a place where I can even consider dating or a relationship. It wasn’t a commentary on you, or the night we had together, or anything other than not having space in my life.” His eyes search my face, as though the way to make this all go away is written there. “Zoe needs to be my first priority.”
“I get it.” It’s not just me saying that, either. I really do understand, but that doesn’t take away the sting of rejection, or the self-doubt I’ve carried around for the last few weeks. “I probably shouldn’t have assumed you would. Nothing personal, right?” Embarrassment clogs my throat as I smile tightly at him, fighting the urge to look away. “Lesson learned.”
God, he must think I’m so clingy for getting so bent out of shape over having sex one time. If he wasn’t already, now he’s probably pretty relieved he didn’t call.
At my words, Ellis’s shoulders drop slightly. “When I look back at that night… I likely would have assumed otherwise too, if our positions were reversed. I’m entirely in the wrong, Josephine. There’s no excuse for my behavior, and I’m sorry.”
I smile weakly. “You already said that.”
He grimaces. “Once wasn’t enough. Truly, I feel terrible.”
“Don’t. We’re good.” I scoot to the end of the bench, preparing to leave again, but something in his crestfallen expression makes me pause. “I’m not angry at you, Ellis. Really. You’re a really good father for putting her first.”
He lets out a hard laugh, and turns toward the play yard, rubbing absentmindedly at the stubble on his jaw. “I appreciate that. Some days I don’t feel like one. Most days, actually, I think anyone could do this better than me.”
I follow his gaze, spotting Zoe playing some sort of twirling game with another little girl, their giggles carrying back to us. Something deep inside me pulls taught. “I think you being so hard on yourself means you care very much. We don’t hurt ourselves for things that don’t matter.”
It would be easier if I were still mad at him, but I’m not. Sometimes, there isn’t a bad guy. There’s just a stressed out single dad, who is doing his best. Ellis isn’t a villain here.
When I tear my eyes away from Zoe, I find Ellis already looking at me. The corners of his lips lift in a halfhearted smile. “Would you like to meet her? Properly?”
I don’t hesitate to agree.
It takes some persuading to get Zoe to leave Monkey Do , but Ellis manages it without tears. She eyes me skeptically as the three of us walk across the street to a small, quiet park and sit down in the grass at the foot of a big tree.
“ Mon coeur , you remember I told you were are going on an airplane, don’t you?” Ellis asks, and Zoe’s head bobs up and down dutifully. “Josephine will be coming with us. She is going to teach you all the things Mrs. Burns does now, and spend time with you when I am busy working.”
Zoe doesn’t look at me, choosing instead to watch cars zooming by us on the street, but I smile at her, anyway. “Hi Zoe. My name is Josephine, but most people call me Jo. You’re welcome to as well. I’m very excited to go on this trip with you and your dad.”
“ Papa .” She corrects me with the tiniest hint of an accent.
Beside her, Ellis laughs softly. “ Oui, mon coeur. Papa .”
Holy cuteness. I’m doomed.
“I’m very sorry. I’ll know better in the future.” I glance up at Ellis, biting back a smile. “If it’s okay with you, I saw an i-c-e c-r-e-a-m shop a few doors down from Monkey Do . I’d love to take her and shamelessly buy some cool nanny points while we get to know each other a little better.”
He looks at me for so long, his expression flat, I start to think I’ve done something wrong. Before I can even begin to imagine what, though, Ellis nods. “Of course. I can answer some emails while I wait for you two. My car is over there, the blue one…” His words falter, and a dull flush rises on his high cheekbones, obviously remembering I have been in his car before.
I’m determined not to find it charming.
My attention turns to Zoe, who is watching me closely now, her lips pursed. “I was going to get some ice cream after meeting you guys, but I think it would be way more fun if you came with me, Zoe. If you’d like to. Do you like rainbow sprinkles?”
Unsurprisingly, Zoe is a big fan of rainbow sprinkles. She has no qualms about abandoning Ellis, clutching my hand and humming merrily to herself as we head back toward the street. “I’ve seen pictures of this place online, actually,” I tell her. “They have all sorts of really cool sundaes. There’s one that even has an entire slice of birthday cake on top. Do you want to split that with me?” As I look to check Zoe’s reaction, movement in the corner of my eye makes me glance back.
Ellis is watching us, the same carefully blank look on his face as he had when I proposed the ice cream, and I look back around hurriedly, my heart suddenly beating much harder than it was before.
Crap.