6. Chapter 6 #3
I only realise my mistake when both Nigel and little Theo turn to face me, and I cover my mouth. Nigel glares at me, an indicator that my little outburst was going to play a part in my interview process; as for little Theo, he stares at me with wide eyes, face flushed and stares down at the floor.
It’s safe to say he had no idea I was in here until the sound I made acknowledged my presence, turning him shy with slumped shoulders and his attention now on his little night up Mario Kart themed shoes.
This little boy does get cuter by the second. This has only really happened once before, but I could feel myself getting broody the more I looked at this perfect little guy.
“Theo, I can’t play with you right now. I’m in the middle of an interview; once I’m done here, I promise to come over and play with you until Oliver comes back.” Nigel negotiates, breaking this attention away from me to give Theo his counteroffer.
Little Theo stands there as he ponders it. Anyone could see he felt anxious being in the room with a stranger, but he had mustered a lot of courage to come in here and ask for what he wanted.
When all of a sudden, he looked at me.
“Will you play with me?” he kindly asked. Just the mere sound of his little voice made my heart want to burst. Maybe I shouldn’t take this job, cause how was I supposed to tell off this little cutie?
Nigel and I share a glance, then I look back at Theo, who slowly shuffles towards me,
“Theo, I don’t think that’s-” Nigel starts, but I end up speaking before my brain could tell me to say no.
“Sure, Theo! I’m Luna. What game do you wanna play?” I respond with a kind smile as Theo is standing in front of me now. Hearing that I accepted his invitation actually made my heart stop for a split second.
Because it’s the exact moment the tips of his mouth broke upwards and the biggest, brightest smile that made my ovaries ache, and it was directed at me.
I don’t think I’ve ever blushed in a six-year-old’s presence before, but I am now.
Then he carefully scoots past me to take apart the controllers, prop the switch on Nigel’s desk…who I forgot was here for a moment, then Theo plops himself in the seat next to me and offers me the pink controller, while he has the green one.
I glance at Nigel; the poor man is too stunned to speak at what’s playing out. I’m definitely an interview red flag right now, but since it can’t get any worse, once Theo picks the stakes, I look towards the screen and the race counts down.
3…2…1…GO!
And off we went, me as Princess Rosalina and Theo as the obvious choice, Baby Mario.
Racing around the track of Baby Park. One of the easiest tracks to play, as you just have to drift and drive around and around five times.
I turn now and again to see Theo’s eyes light up when he watches me drift around a corner to help give me extra speed.
As if he had no idea that ability had existed until now, he tries his hardest to catch up to me, twisting and turning his little body in the process.
I’m practically in love with the child, yes.
But if I did become his nanny, I wasn’t going to treat him as if he’ll always win just because he’s smaller. Failure was a part of life, and it’s not a great aspect to instil into a child.
That never worked, and I’m talking from experience. Seriously, there was no fun in bragging to all my friends in school that I beat my brother at Mario Kart or Just Dance when, in fact, he’d just let me win every time, because Gran told him to.
There’s such a sense of pride in earning a real win.
Though, to be fair, I was a little too naive as a child. I thought I was winning because I was a good dancer, trying my hardest while my brother sat on the sofa, pulling off one or two moves now and again to create the illusion.
For the third time in the past few minutes, I remember Nigel and temporarily take my eyes off the little screen to see him leaning on his desk, deeply massaging his temples as if he needs to prepare himself for what’s coming next.
I then look back at the screen just in time to finish first across the finish line with Theo right behind. Despite losing, he cheers so earnestly for me, you’d have thought he was the one who won.
He’s jumping in place, clapping so vigorously, he drops the controller on the floor. I just have to share his excitement and join him in clapping, adding an overly excited “Yay!”, pumping my fist in the air, when suddenly I feel the atmosphere in the room shift drastically.
“What the hell is going on here?!” The words that boom their way into the room, bringing the cheering to a choking halt.
I copy Nigel, springing to my feet at another presence in the room, and little Theo, still in his chair, froze in mid-clap.
The subtle sound of Mario Kart music is the only sound in the room.
There is so much tension in the room now, you can choke on it; the urge to laugh haunts me, and I blame the upbeat celebratory video game music.
“Oliver,” Nigel squeaks, and I turn towards the owner of the deep yet incredibly smooth voice.
Sweet Baby Buddha.
There he was, as I live and breathe.
Oliver James Walters.
Okay, so I may have looked at a few more pictures of him and stalked him a little more last night until I found an interview where he accidentally mentioned his middle name, but…What I was witnessing right now was nothing compared to the photos.
Broad shoulders, clean-shaven, the same yet much fuller pair of lips I may or may not have been staring at last night before bed… and those eyes.
Those deep, alluring yet intimidating eyes were now attempting to burn through my skull. That, combined with his knotted yet well-kept brows and the permanent scowl I’d heard endlessly about, was directed at me.
The only difference was that the look he gave me didn’t want me to wet myself, but something very wet was happening down south in this moment.
Leaving me both aroused and incredibly confused.
Up until now, being instantly attracted to someone has never happened to me, so the sight of this man really threw me off. I had never felt like this before, not with my ex nor my first love.
The emotional component that came with being someone always had to be there first before I was able to fantasise about being sexual with that person. Then again, the mini orgasm I had last night while picturing his face now made sense.
But my sudden urge to fangirl over this man wasn’t important right now; what was important was the fact that I was still in a job interview, and this six-foot-two giant of a man was potentially my boss. Which helped snap me back into professional mode.
“Hi, I’m Luna Jackson, here to interview for th-”
But I’m not even able to finish my introduction.
“What the hell is going on here, Nigel? Why is Theo in here?! Why-” He then pauses to pinch the bridge of his nose, drawing my attention to his straining biceps underneath his suit jacket.
“Sir, I was just about to-” Nigel starts, but for the third time today, he is interrupted.
“Bud, I thought I told you to wait in my office; to only come in here to see Uncle Nigel was only for emergencies.” Oliver Hot-Pants, aka Surly Bastard, declares as gently as he can, working through frustration. In that moment, I look at Theo.
His slumped shoulders return, and the fear of getting in trouble trembles in his eyes. I can handle this little guy talking, smiling, laughing, even, but the last thing I wanted to see was him cry.
So out of my instinct to protect, I step in.
“I-it wasn’t Theo’s fault. The poor thing got bored an-”
“And who the hell are you?” he growls so harshly, it puts a stop to my words.
Suddenly, the daydream I was in broke and the attraction I’d felt for this man shattered.
“Excuse me? I tried to introduce myself before, but y-”
“Don’t care. Theo, go back into my office, please. It’s lunchtime,” cutting me off for the third and final time, ignoring me, his eyes only on Theo.
“I’m sorry, who the hell do you think you are talking to me l-” I then quickly hold my hand up to stop him when he aims to speak again.
“Interrupt me one more time, and you and I are gonna have a problem, buddy. I understand you’re angry for whatever reason, but that is no excuse for you to be bas-” I quickly glance at Theo, then back at his dad.
“A butt head.” I correct myself, pointing at him. I had no idea where the sudden extra tang of attitude just came from. I wasn’t usually much of a hothead, but people did always say I take after my Gran when it counts, and this grumpy son of bitch clearly brought that side of me out.
Once I finished speaking, the room went silent for a few seconds, and Mr Walters - that’s right, he doesn’t deserve to be addressed as Oliver or Surly Bastard with his poorly mannered behaviour right now. Entered a death staring match with me for several moments; surprisingly, he caves first.