Chapter 13 – We Came to Eat
Rosalie
“Sit by me, Dad.” Wyatt has saved him a seat right between us. Liam glances at me for just a second with that team-meeting look, and I have a feeling it has nothing to do with my job and everything to do with what he and Andrew were talking about that made them late for dinner.
If he knows I overheard Andrew’s question, he’ll want to explain and clear the air, for which I’m eternally grateful. I’m dying to know why Maggie would mention me at all.
“Of course, Wy.” He sits down and leans toward Wyatt, asking him about the video game he’d been playing. Paxton leans in from the other side, not able to sit out on a video game conversation when he’s the expert.
Marisol has a round table so everyone can see each other, but to make it fit in her rectangular kitchen, it’s tucked into her breakfast nook, leaving little space to walk around.
I know she and Andrew have talked about remodeling, but it’s always something they’ll decide on next year.
Having lived through my family’s kitchen remodel, I understand the hesitation.
We ate out of a crockpot for six months.
Our first course is a salad. Marisol warns Callie and Paxton not to try the salad dressing on top unless they plan to take a bite of lettuce.
Paxton immediately dips his fork in and thoughtfully tries the dressing.
He’ll show her. Marisol hides a smile. It’s tangy and sweet with a hint of heat but, knowing her, also full of healthy ingredients they’ll never know about.
My salad is gone within a few bites. The portions are kept tiny so that nobody feels pressured. It’s a kind gesture for the picky-picks, but sad for those who came to EAT, like me and Wyatt. His plate’s empty too, and he’s already craning his neck around looking for more food.
Liam catches me taking an indelicate swipe at my plate. “You gonna lick the plate, next?” he asks with one eyebrow raised.
“Maybe.”
When our eyes meet, he quickly looks away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t tease you.”
Yes, what a crime. I hate it when he’s funny and interested in what I’m doing.
He goes back to politely eating, and it makes me so irritated that I reach out and steal a curly piece of carrot from his plate and pop it into my mouth.
He ignores me, but we’ve caught the attention of Callie from across the table.
“Ro’s eating with her fingers and stealing food,” she announces.
Bea, sitting next to her, pounds the table. “Off with her head!”
“Bea,” Marisol warns.
“What? We deserve justice.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “They caught me. I’ll wash my hands and use my fork from now on. When I steal.” I wink at Bea.
I’m sitting on the far side by the window, and Liam has to scoot in to let me by.
On my way back to my seat, I don’t bother asking him to move in again since he’s talking.
Instead, I brush up against him in order to fit and apologize with a hand on his shoulder.
Except, he loses his train of thought mid-sentence.
In that moment of awkward silence, I feel Marisol’s gaze on me, but I studiously avoid looking at her or anyone. Real embarrassment settles in, the kind that makes my face and neck hot. I quickly sit back down.
Marisol told me years ago that when Liam first looked for a nanny, a couple of the applicants were totally inappropriate with him, knowing he was freshly divorced. And hot, my mind adds.
I was different. I was focused on the kids and earning money to pay off my student loans, and he needed that. It’s a big part of why he hired me.
We might be friends now, but friends don’t make each other uncomfortable if they accidentally touch. I don’t want to think about it too much. I just won’t do that again. Even if it was unintentional, I should have been more careful.
“So,” Liam continues finally. “After I merged onto the I-10, the truck brake-checked me, not knowing there was an undercover cop to our left.”
“Did the cop pull him over?” Marisol asks. She’s given up staring at me, but I’ll be getting interrogated later, probably over the phone after the kids go to bed with Andrew half listening in. That’s how most of our conversations go.
“Sure did.”
I’m the best-behaved dinner guest for the rest of the meal. Even when Bea licks the salt off of her peas and then stealthily rolls them across the table to land under my plate while staring me down. She really is a little terrorist. I love her.
After dessert, a cake with zucchini and summer squash baked into it, I’m ready to say my goodbyes and drive home.
I give the kids within my reach a squeeze and thank Marisol for dinner. She tries to give me leftovers, but Kambryn is a fridge-cleaning nut on Saturday mornings. She’ll throw them out before I can eat them. Plus, if they end up at Liam’s, I’m all set anyway. I’m more likely to eat them there.
“I’ll call you later, okay?” Marisol whispers.
“Do I have a choice?”
She glances behind me to where Liam and Andrew are busy working on the dishes. “No.”
“Fabulous.”
“Am I driving home with you?” Callie asks, wrapping her arms around my waist. “I want to stay a few more minutes. Bea is going to feed her scorpion.”
I’m definitely not staying for that. “You’re gonna drive home with your dad. Have fun, and I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”
“Okay.” She lets me go and takes off down the hall that leads to the bedrooms.
Outside, the stars are starting to appear as the sky grows dark. There’s only a sliver of a moon. Kambryn probably has plans tonight. She’ll drag Aubrey along with her. That means I can go home and take a bubble bath with a book. A quick check at my messages confirms it.
Kambryn: Hey, lady. Gavin wants Thai food. We’re gonna try that new place on Third. Don’t watch the new episode without me! Aubrey says she’ll wait on us, too. She’s at her brother’s house tonight.
Kambryn and Aubrey are obsessed with a Polish TV show about a murderer on a cruise ship full of rich teens on summer holiday, and they’ve converted me, despite the bad dubbing.
New episodes drop every Friday. It’s better when we get to make fun of it and be creeped out together. I won’t watch it without them.
I get into my car and put my seatbelt on. Only, when I start up the car, it doesn’t turn over. It doesn’t even try. All I get is a click.
“No.” I squeeze the steering wheel, sending all the good vibes I can muster.
But I already know it’s not going to start for me.
It’s been hesitating all week, and I told myself I wasn’t turning the keys right or something, when actually, my battery was rapidly dying.
It’s been a hot summer. I should have known.
I give it a few more tries, just to cement my disappointment, and then rest my head in defeat on the steering wheel and try to talk myself into going back inside.
I’m not convinced I should. Wallowing sounds great right now.
My stomach is full and satisfied. I have a sad Lewis Capaldi song stuck in my head.
I don’t even mind the heat of the car. Andrew likes his house the temperature of a meat locker.
“Rosalie?”
“Yeah.” Liam probably can’t hear me since I murmured it into my arms draped across the steering wheel, and I could barely hear him calling out to me.
The passenger-side door opens and he gets in. As usual, he smells great, which is just… great.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
I raise my head and turn to look at him.
He has his serious face on, his problem-solving face.
I’m not offended. I am definitely in need of a problem-solver right now.
And if he’s going to study me so intently, it means I can study him right back.
He has a little cleft in his chin I’ve always wanted to run my thumb over.
I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance. “Car won’t start. Pretty sure I have a dead battery.”
“It’s fine. We’ll drive you home.”
“Thanks.” In my head, Kambryn is cackling and rubbing her hands together. The universe is conspiring against me.
“Or, if you want, we can go grab a battery right now and see if that fixes it. I’m pretty sure O’Reilly’s stays open until ten.”
I like this plan. I’m very much on board. “Yes. Let’s do that.”
“Okay, let me just go tell everyone where we’re going.” He tosses me his keys. “You wanna drive?”
I shake my head no, though I love that he asked.
While he’s inside, I get out and go sit in the passenger seat of his Volvo S90, setting his key fob on the console.
We transferred Callie’s booster seat earlier and it looks ridiculous in here, a contrast of fuzzy pink material against sleek, expensive cream-colored leather.
When I first started working for Liam, I felt a little like that booster seat.
But he makes me feel like I fit in. I did update my wardrobe, though.
It was that or take up Esther on her offer of a makeover. Fear is a great motivator.
After a minute, Liam gets in the driver’s seat and starts up the car with a delicate purr. “Ready?”
“Yep. Thank you.”
“Of course. I’m going to apologize in advance, because if it’s not a simple battery swap, I’m no help to you. And even then, Andrew will probably be the one changing it out while insulting me for not remembering how.”
“What a guy.”
“He lectures because he cares. Just ask him.”
Liam’s cars are too nice to give him a whole lot of auto-repair experience.
I don’t have that excuse, so I’ll be watching carefully.
“What was your favorite thing you ate tonight?” I don’t want any drops in conversation.
It’s not normal for us to be alone together in a car, but this feels normal so far, like the kids are asleep in the back seat and we’re just out running errands and talking about our day.
“My favorite, huh? Let me think.”
I adjust the air conditioning vents to blow right on me, and he sets up his navigation to get us to O’Reilly’s. He has to concentrate as we wind our way out of the neighborhood. Someone on the corner must be having a party because cars are parked everywhere.
Finally, he says, “I’d have to say the cake. I can’t believe it had three whole cups of shredded vegetables in it.”
“Well, the cream cheese frosting helps.”
“Okay, the frosting was my favorite thing I ate tonight. Don’t tell Marisol. What was your favorite part?”
“The salad.”
“I should have guessed that. So, uh, this is probably a good time to ask you about something.” But he doesn’t ask. He just keeps sneaking glances at me like he needs to make sure I’m ready for it. So much for normal.
“Out with it, Liam.”
He sighs. “Did you hear Andrew ask me about Maggie?”
“Yeah, the man can’t whisper to save his life.”
“I was afraid of that. I’m sorry.”
“So, what did Maggie ask Andrew about that had to do with me?”
“I feel like I need to back up and explain what happened the night we broke up first.” When I nod, he goes on. “She didn’t like that I introduced her to my kids as a ‘friend.’ She said that you were more important to them than she’d ever be. I’m paraphrasing, but that was the extent of it.”
“So, she wanted to know if I was still working for you?”
“Not exactly.” If he had a tie on, he’d be loosening it. Knowing him, his need to tell me the truth is fighting with the urge to not tell me the truth. I’m not sure which one I want from him.
“You have to understand; lawyers like to take charge. She left me with some parting advice that’s none of her business. She thinks we…” He gestures between the two of us, obviously hoping I’ll fill in the blank.
I raise my eyebrows. “I’m not following.” More like I’m not about to assume anything. This would be the worst moment for a guess.
“She thinks you and I should… be together.” His gaze fixes on the road ahead.
I don’t want to look at him either. If I do, I won’t be able to stop analyzing whatever reaction he’s willing to give, and I’m afraid of what I’ll find.
Maggie thinks Liam should be with me. That’s a bold ex-girlfriend move. It actually reminds me of that scary blonde lady from The Sound of Music telling Captain von Trapp that Maria will never be a nun. Hint, hint.
It’s one of Callie’s favorite movies, so I can quote it like a pro.
And now I’m picturing Liam in an old-timey tux dancing with me in the garden with his heart in his eyes. New fantasy unlocked. I’ll bet Liam’s a good dancer. It’s the confident way he walks. Plus, he’s sporty. The skill should transfer.
“She doesn’t get what it’s like to work closely with someone in your own home and keep things professional.” He’s so earnest, it’s adorable.
“Yes, this feels very professional, Liam.”
He laughs. “I both love and hate that you can’t ever take me seriously.”
“You take yourself seriously enough for the both of us. Is she in your head now? Maggie gets to call the shots?”
“No.” He finally looks at me, and I give him my most reassuring smile.
“We’re friends, okay?”
“Okay.” His sigh is filled with relief. I’ve never met anyone who enjoys the status quo more than Liam, and I’ve brought us gently back to that place where we can let it go and move on. It’s a nanny skill, and I think he knows it. Still works, though.
The man is dying to be my friend and only my friend without the possibility of more. So, that’s what we’ll do. It’s a good reminder to keep my expectations in check. And speaking of, I should probably check in with Mr. Emoji.
It’s a bad sign that I can’t remember his real name. Is it Troy? Cray? Gray?
I silenced notifications from him, which is also probably not a good sign.
Who am I kidding? I have no expectations for tomorrow.
None. It’s not Mr. Emoji I’m fantasizing about when my mind wanders.
I shouldn’t have put that as his contact name.
It takes a little bit of scrolling through messages to find where he first introduced himself.
Trey. His name is Trey Marcum. That’s a nice name, actually.
I go to change the contact details and hover over the edit button. His nickname sparks joy, and I’ll take all of that I can get. If Mr. Emoji gets past a first date, I’ll change it.