Chapter 4 #2
“You are such a drama queen. I did not phrase it like that.” I roll my eyes.
“I just maybe, casually brought it up with Principal Morrison during a recent meeting. Purely hypothetically, of course, I asked about policies regarding relationships with parents, and she said as long as it’s not affecting my job or creating conflicts of interest, it’s technically fine. ”
She gives me an impressed look. “Wow, Em. I gotta hand it to you. You’ve always had balls.”
“I hate that saying. There’s a Betty White quote about it. Balls are weak and sensitive. You should say I have a vagina because those things can take a pounding.”
Sophie nearly chokes on her Manhattan, sputtering into her napkin. “Oh I forgot about that quote.” She dabs at her mouth, still recovering. “Okay, so what’s stopping you if you’re in the clear?”
“Nothing.” I lean back and let myself smile. “That’s the thing. I want to ask him out. I’m going to ask him out. I just need to figure out the right approach.”
“The right approach.” Sophie shakes her head, clearly entertained. “How much older is he, anyway?” She leans forward on her elbows, fully invested now.
“Ten years. I found his old Facebook page and it says he’s thirty-four.” I try to sound casual, like I’m definitely not a stalker. “He doesn’t really post anything.”
Sophie raises an eyebrow. “Ten years isn’t that bad, though you’ve never dated someone more than a few years older. Especially not a guy with an actual business and a whole seven-year-old kid.”
“Ugh, I’m so done with guys our age.” I set my glass down with emphasis. “Remember the last guy I dated, Travis? He played video games for six hours a day and thought doing his own laundry was an achievement worth celebrating.”
“I remember him vividly. Mostly because of the smell.” She makes a gagging gesture.
“Exactly.” I shudder at the memory. “Before that was Louis—remember, he went to Columbia and seemed so ambitious at first, but then ghosted me because I ‘intimidated’ him. God forbid a woman be well educated and have opinions. He wanted someone who’d smile and nod and make him feel like the smartest person in the room. “
“You dodged a bullet with Louis,” Sophie says, raising her glass in solidarity.
I nod, gaining momentum. “And before him, the guy who asked me to Venmo him for half the appetizer on our first date because I ate more of the baked clams than he did.”
“Half an appetizer!” Sophie’s voice rises, drawing looks from nearby tables.
“Right?!” I shake my head. “I want someone who has their life together. Someone mature. Who can hold a conversation and show up when he says he will and handle his own shit without needing a trophy for basic adult functioning. I’m sick of men who do the bare minimum and expect a standing ovation for it.
Like congratulations, you paid your rent on time and remembered my birthday—do you want a medal?
The bar is literally on the ground and they still trip over it. ”
“Go off,” Sophie says. “I love fired-up Emma.”
I glance back as subtly as I can manage, catching sight of Theo chatting with a family at a nearby table.
The dad says something and Theo laughs, genuine and warm, then crouches down to talk to their little boy at eye level.
The kid lights up, showing him something on his placemat, and Theo nods along like it’s the most interesting thing he’s seen all day.
“A man,” I say, turning back to Sophie. “That’s what I’m looking for. Not a boy. No more boys. And Theo Midnight checks every single box.”
“So go for it,” Sophie says simply. “He’s got you completely down bad.”
“I’m going to.” I take a breath, feeling that familiar spark of determination that’s gotten me through every challenge I’ve ever faced. “I just need the right opening. Something that doesn’t scream ‘I’ve been fantasizing about you since you showed me how to work a radiator.’”
“An opening like the fact that he’s currently walking toward our table?” She’s looking past me now, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth.
“What?” My spine straightens, and I fight the urge to check my reflection in my wine glass.
I turn slightly, and sure enough, Theo is heading our way. He looks a bit flushed from the hustle of the evening, but he’s smiling as he approaches, and my whole body responds to it in a way that’s embarrassing.
“Emma, hey, nice to see you,” he says when he reaches our table. “I didn’t realize you’d be in tonight or I would have stopped by to say hi sooner.”
I smile, hoping it doesn’t come across as giddy as I feel.
“I considered texting you, but I called for a reservation first, and apparently the hostess said she was told by you that the name Emma Hayes could get a seat at your reserved family table anytime.” I gesture to the prime corner spot we’re occupying. “Thank you, by the way.”
He waves his hand, and the warmth in those brown eyes makes my pulse pick up. “We keep this one open for when any of our family members come in. And with how good you’ve been with Chloe, it’s the least I can do.”
He turns to Sophie, who’s watching this interaction with a delighted smirk I desperately want to wipe off her face. I know that look. That’s her “I’m about to cause chaos” look.
“This is my sister, Sophie,” I say quickly, hoping to cut her off at the pass. “She’s visiting from Seattle for the weekend.”
Sophie extends her hand with way too much enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you. Emma’s told me so much about you. And I mean so much.”
I could die on the spot. Just sink right through the floor and disappear forever. But Theo just laughs and shakes her hand, seemingly unbothered.
“All good things, I hope,” he says easily.
“Oh, very good things,” Sophie says with a grin that makes me want to crawl under the table. “She particularly emphasized how great you are with your daughter. And how nice your studio is. Really painted a picture for me.”
I am going to murder her. Creatively. Maybe with a fork. I haven’t decided yet.
Theo’s eyes flicker to me for a second, a hint of surprise mixed with what might be pleasure crossing his face, before he turns back to Sophie. “Well, I’m glad the apartment’s working out. How are you liking your visit to Dark River so far?”
“It’s charming,” Sophie says, wisely not looking in my direction since I’m shooting daggers at her with enough force to leave marks. “Not really my scene since I need a bit more nightlife and chaos, but I can see why Emma likes it here.”
Theo nods. “Fair enough. Though there’s a surprisingly decent music venue called The Blue Room about thirty minutes from here. I hear it gets pretty wild on Saturday nights.”
Sophie perks up. “Wait, really?”
“Don’t encourage her,” I say, finally finding my voice and some semblance of composure. “She’ll take that as a challenge and end up getting us both kicked out of somewhere.”
Theo laughs, and the sound makes warmth spread through my chest like I’ve just taken a shot of something strong.
“Noted. Well, I should let you two get back to your dinner.” He turns those brown eyes back to me, and for a second it feels like Sophie and the whole restaurant have faded into background noise.
“And Emma, if you need anything with the apartment, just let me know.”
“I will. Thank you.”
He holds my gaze for a moment longer than necessary—or maybe I’m imagining that—then gives us both a nod and heads back toward the kitchen, stopping at another table on his way. I watch him go. I watch him longer than I should.
The second he’s out of earshot, I turn to Sophie. “I’m going to end you.”
She’s beaming like she just won the lottery. “Oh my god, Em. You were eye-fucking him the entire time he was standing here.”
“I was not.” I can feel heat creeping up my neck, and I take a long sip of wine to cover it.
“You absolutely were.” She points her fork at me accusingly. “You practically had cartoon hearts floating around your head.”
“He’s nice to look at.” I don’t bother to deny it at this point. “What was I supposed to do, not look? That would be rude. Wasteful, even. A disservice to the universe.”
Sophie laughs. “You should ask him out tonight. Like right now. Go back there and just do it.”
“I’m not going to ambush him while he’s working.” I take another fortifying sip of wine. “Besides, I have a plan.”
“A plan.” Sophie shakes her head fondly, reaching for another crostini. “Of course you do. Emma Hayes always has a plan.”
“It’s one of my best qualities.” I point at her.
“And what the hell was that, by the way? Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook.
I had it handled. I was going to start planting seeds slowly, build up to things naturally.
I have a whole strategy mapped out and you just came in hot with the ‘she talks about you so much’ routine. ”
She waves dismissively. “Please. Now he knows you’re interested.
And did you see the way he looked at you?
” She leans forward, eyes bright with mischief.
“Plus, if he’s as hesitant about dating as you say, you need to be more obvious.
Subtle isn’t going to cut it. Especially since he doesn’t know that you won’t get fired if you date him.
Or maybe he’s worried about what it would mean for his daughter. ”
I trace the rim of my wine glass, thinking about Chloe. About how much I genuinely adore that kid, independent of any feelings for her father. “Yeah, that’s a thing, but I’ll only be her teacher for the rest of this school year. After that, she moves on with a different teacher.”
“Wow.” Sophie sits back, eyes widening. “You’re planning for the long haul here. Should I start shopping for your something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue already?”
I roll my eyes. “You are ridiculous. No. I’m just saying, Chloe is genuinely one of my favorites in class. She’s a really special kid.”
“I remember. You mentioned her way before you ever met him.” She picks up her Manhattan, swirling the ice. “The one who wants to be a NASCAR driver and marine biologist at the same time?”
“Formula 1 driver,” I correct automatically.
“She says there’s a big difference, and she’s very passionate about it.
But yeah, she’s sweet and smart and so curious about everything.
” I pause. “And I’m not trying to replace her mom or anything.
I’m just saying I love kids and have always wanted a family. You know that.”
Sophie nods, her expression softening. “I do know that.”
And it’s true. I’ve always been ambitious—I graduated college several years early, worked hard to build independence, left my family’s company to start fresh somewhere new.
But at the same time, I’ve wanted a family for as long as I can remember.
I was the kid who volunteered to babysit every chance I got, who spent summers as a camp counselor, who chose elementary education because I wanted to be around kids every single day.
The career ambition and the desire for a family have always existed side by side for me, neither one less important than the other.
“Anyway,” I continue, “a single parent isn’t a deal breaker for me. Far from it. The fact that he’s such a good dad makes him more attractive.”
Sophie raises her glass. “To Emma Hayes, who never backs down from a challenge.”
I clink my glass against hers, and the sound feels like a starting gun.
It’s Sunday afternoon in my apartment, and I’m supposed to be lesson planning. Sophie left for Seattle this morning, and I have a stack of worksheets spread across my bed that need attention before Monday. But my mind keeps drifting back to Theo.
I’d half hoped he’d make it easy on me and reach out after Friday night, but my phone has stayed stubbornly silent. Which means if I want something to happen, I have to make the first move.
I look around the studio, taking stock. The place really is in great shape.
Everything is updated and well-maintained, with no issues to speak of.
The windows open and close fine. The bathroom faucet doesn’t leak.
Radiators work perfectly. It’s the kind of rental where you can go months without needing to contact your landlord, which is the problem.
Wait. The cabinet.
The one next to the stove that sticks slightly when you open it.
I noticed it my first week here, made a mental note and then forgot about it because it’s barely even an inconvenience.
You just have to pull a little harder. I walk over to it and crouch down to examine the hinge.
It’s a simple fix—probably just needs to be tightened.
I pull the door open and closed a few times, testing the resistance.
It opens just fine enough, but there’s a small creak coming from the top hinge.
Perfect.
Now that’s something I can call a landlord about.