Chapter Six
O kay, so I was an ass. But I wasn’t wrong. I was matching her energy. Sloane was the last person I expected to be the one to help me with Lily, so when Savannah rocked up with the idea, I was too stumped to say no.
Then, she gave me her history and her experience, and I would have been a fool to turn her away, but I may have done that anyway.
The visceral reaction to my words was jarring.
She paled so quickly, a look of absolute terror coming over her, and I spent a good minute trying to get her back.
I almost touched her, but then I remembered what it was like for me as a kid during episodes and how touch set me off even worse.
So, I didn’t touch her, but then she bolted before I even had a chance to ask her what had happened.
It’s not like she would have told me, and perhaps it’s stupid of me to be going to her place with the contract and NDA in the glove compartment.
Lily is strapped safely in a car seat in the passenger seat.
Even though it took me almost a fucking hour to get it installed.
Can hack computers, can’t install a car seat, and then I had to turn off all the airbags and barely made it above twenty miles an hour.
Fucking hopeless.
Coming to a stop outside the address I remember Savannah giving when she was staying here while her house was being renovated, I turn off the engine. Lily babbles at my side, staring with wide eyes up at the colorful display of shapes hanging from the handle of her car seat.
“Guess all she can do is tell me to fuck off, right, Lily flower?”
My daughter simply babbles.
I nod like she just gave me the wisest answer.
Getting the envelope from the glove compartment, I climb from the car and go around to the passenger door, unbuckling Lily from the seat and lifting her to support her in the crook of my arm.
I tug a blanket around her to save her from the chill and walk the short distance up the path before I lift a hand and knock on the door.
A few seconds tick by before I hear movement, and then locks begin to disengage, several of them, before the door cracks open, attached to a chain.
“Dean!?” She gasps my name in surprise.
I dip my chin in a greeting.
“Shit,” She hisses before she shuts the door and unlinks the chain so she can open it further. “What are you doing here!?” Her eyes dart from me to my daughter, softening a touch when she looks at her.
If I weren’t sure she was a good fit for the role, then that would have done it. Anyone who can look at my daughter the way she just did can have the job. You can’t fake that, especially not a woman who wears her every feeling on her face.
I offer her the envelope. “I only came to bring this.”
“The contract?” She takes it hesitantly.
“If you still want the job,” I nod.
“Even after…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but I know what she’s referring to.
“We all have a story, Sloane.” I sigh, tightening my hold on Lily. A twist on my story I didn’t see coming.
“Right,” She nods. “Well, I’ll have a read through and let you know, yeah?”
Her eyes bounce around my face, the color of them reminding me of the ocean, not the one that’s only a few miles from here, but the Caribbean Sea at midday, when the sun is at its highest point and the ocean looks like some kind of crystal, so clear and blue you can see all the way to the bottom.
There’s a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and dark lashes frame those gemstone eyes.
She pulls her plump bottom lip into her mouth, a nervous gesture as she waits for me to respond.
“Right,” I snap out of it, “Take my number so you can contact me when you decide.”
She hesitates before she tucks the envelope beneath her arm and pulls her cell from her back pocket, unlocking the screen. I call out my number, and she types it in, the tips of her nails clicking rhythmically on the screen.
“Well thanks,” She steps back into the house and closes the door. For a minute, I stand there, listening to each lock engage — and there are many — and though I shouldn’t, I really do wonder what her story could be.
The cold, indifferent woman I met in the club so many weeks back seems like a front, an armor she wears. I read people; I see them when they don’t want me to. A talent I picked up when I was younger, and I needed to read a room and a mood so I could predict how the night would end.
It’s almost midnight when my phone buzzes on the table. Placing the beer I’ve been nursing all night down, I pick it up and find a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Why do I need to sign an NDA?
I can only assume it’s Sloane.
I debate how to respond. I can’t very well tell her I work for an organization that hires out mercenaries and deals with very sensitive information.
Me: I work in security. There may be times where you see or hear me talking about a job.
The lie isn’t a new one. Security is the easiest and safest explanation.
Unknown: Right. The contract also states I’m expected to stay late when required. How often would that happen? Ideally, I’d like to have set hours.
Me: I will try to keep it minimal, though I cannot say it won’t happen. If necessary, we will set up the spare bedroom next to Lily’s for you.
Unknown: No overnights.
Me: And if my job requires me to stay away?
Unknown: You will need to find alternative childcare for Lily. It’s non-negotiable.
I pause before replying, wondering why this is off the table.
Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t know me, which I can understand, but my intuition tells me it’s more than that.
Maybe she has a man who wants her home every night.
The thought stirs something hot to churn in my stomach.
The fact that someone like Sloane, with her beautiful ocean eyes and ash-blonde hair, is already taken shouldn’t surprise me, even though I don’t like it all that much.
Me: Fine, I can adjust the contract. Anything else?
Unknown: No. Everything else is fine. I’ll sign after the change regarding the nights is implemented. When do you want me to start?
Me: Immediately. A new contract will be here in the morning. Please come by at nine a.m. to sign, and you can start tomorrow.
Three dots appear and then disappear as she types. Several minutes pass before a single word pops up on my screen.
Unknown: Okay.
Dropping the phone onto the cushion beside me, I lean my head back.
This will not be fucking easy. Having a person constantly in my space, especially a woman who’s colder than the frost covering the ground outside.
That’s probably a saving grace. I may know people, how to read them, how to anticipate their next move, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy being around them.
There was a reason I leaned hard toward the tech side of the business, and that was because it came with isolation.
My brother and my friends never question it when I claim I need quiet to work and disappear, but someone here, every single day, is going to push on that boundary I set up around myself.
Lily’s cries activate the baby monitor on the side table, its small light pulsing rhythmically as her wails increase in intensity.
She only went back down for the night thirty minutes ago, and I know she should be good until at least five now, so if Sloane can help me figure this shit out, then it’ll be worth it.
No matter how much I hate the idea.