Chapter 6
A Date (Not) Set in Stone
MILLIE
When I get home that night, I pace the living room, mentally rehearsing how I should initiate the message to Gabriel about the nanny position
I feel ridiculous—like I’m about to send a love letter or something, not a simple work-related text.
I want to appear professional but also approachable, friendly but not too eager.
The problem is, I don’t even know what my vibe is with him.
Are we just two people making a deal, or are we… something else?
My fingers twitch, itching to type, delete, type again.
I wonder if I should add a little humor, something to break Gabriel’s cold exterior, or keep it strictly business?
Maybe add a smiley face to soften it? But no, I’m not fourteen.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in my head.
I pull out my phone and open a new message thread. The cursor blinks, mocking me with its unblinking judgement. I can’t decide what to say. So, I decide to write a list of potential messages I could send.
Hey, just messaging you about the nanny position. When would you like me to start?
Hey Gabby, when would you like me to meet you to talk about the details of watching your daughter?
Let me know when you want to meet to discuss the nanny position.
Hey, it’s Bumper, your new nanny. When would you like me to come? I mean, not like that, but come to your house to nanny.
None of those sound even remotely near the tone I want to give off. Too formal? Too casual? Too weird? For sure not the last one, don’t need him getting any ideas.
I collapse onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. This is what nerves really feel like, huh? Heart pounding, palms sweaty, with the tiniest doubt gnawing away at the edges of my confidence. I can’t believe I’m letting a text message do this to me.
So, I decide to make myself dinner and stew over what I want to text Gabriel. If I’m going to obsess over this, I might as well distract myself with something productive.
I choose to make chicken confit, a favorite meal of mine when I studied abroad in Paris. When I graduated college three years ago, my parents gave me the most incredible gift—a year-long study abroad program across Europe to learn how to cook and bake different traditional dishes.
In France, chicken confit became my go-to comfort food to make. It is so simple, but the flavor is incredible—the dish that makes you feel like you’re in a Parisian bistro, sipping wine, watching the world go by.
Tonight, I choose to pair the chicken with a truffled broccoli cauliflower bake, a recipe I stumbled upon during a trip to Tuscany. The combination of the truffles and creamy cheese is perfect and pairs amazingly with the chicken confit.
As the smell of baking fills my kitchen, my mind wanders.
I imagine myself in a little bistro in Montmartre—plates arriving with flair, the quiet hum of conversation all around.
Then I snap back to reality, and it hits me how much I’m craving that kind of simple joy: good food, good company, and a place where I can truly relax.
When I am done cooking, I realize I’ve made too much food for one person, but that’s nothing new. I love to cook, and one of my siblings will most likely end up at the café hungry tomorrow, anyway.
As I am finishing up the dishes, my phone pings from the couch.
Unknown
Hey Bumper, it’s Gabriel. I wanted to text you and let you know I am off for the next three days, so whenever you want to meet to discuss further, let me know.
I’m relieved to finally be hearing from him, but also nervous. I type out a response.
Me
Oh hi, sorry, I meant to text you but I got distracted, and if I’m being honest, nervous…
I stare at the message, wondering if I’ve over-explained myself. Gabriel’s probably used to people being nervous around him, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I hit send anyway and try not to think about it too much.
Gabby
When is a good day for you to meet? We could come to the cafe if that is okay with you, or you could come here. You’ll be able to see Aura before you start.
Woah, Aura? That’s such a pretty name. I wonder who picked it?
Me
Oh, I can come to your place. That way, it’s familiar to Aura since she is meeting someone new.
Gabby
Tomorrow at 6?
Me
It’s a date!
Ugh, why did I say that? That was completely unnecessary. It’s not a date—he’s not interested in me like that, and I most definitely don’t like him like that either. The guy can’t stand me. This is business.
I go to bed with butterflies in my stomach at the thought of going to Gabriel’s house. I keep picturing his place—what will it be like, how will Aura react to me, will Gabriel be a pain or will he be different without his mom around?
I toss and turn all night. My mind racing with questions. What will his home be like? Is he a neat freak or a disaster? Will I find dirty bottles in the sink and boxers on the floor? Is he a slob or maybe, just maybe, is he secretly the soft-hearted guy who doesn’t know how to show it?
Surely not. He’s way too cool to be the soft type. Never mind this. I need to get up and go to the café.
I drag myself out of bed, feeling like I didn’t sleep a wink, and pull myself together in fifteen minutes. My hair is still damp from the shower, but whatever—I’m not meeting anyone important today, right? I grab my bag and head out, making the short walk to the café.
I unlock the door to the café, the familiar chime of the bell ringing as I step inside. The smell of coffee and baked goods lingers in the air.
My contractor finally emailed me a few days ago and sent a firm opening date for the third week of May.
This means that in just three weeks I will officially be open for business!
I have completed all the deliveries that need to be placed, and everything should be here and ready to go before opening.
This news feels like a shot of adrenaline straight to my heart. After months of sweat, sleepless nights, and endless decisions, the finish line is finally in sight.
I’m a few steps into my day when I hear the doorbell ring and the door opening. I turn to find Josh standing by the counter, looking a little tired, but still smiling.
“Morning Mills! Can you make me your favorite coffee and pack me some pastries to go?” He asks, clearly in need of caffeine.
I laugh and pull on my apron. “Sure thing, Josh. No partner this morning?”
“Nah, he is off for the next three days, so we are on opposite schedules right now,” he says with a shrug, a slight grin forming on his face as he leans against the counter.
I decide to make him my current favorite drink—a coconut cream latte. I have been thinking about adding it to the summer main menu, and I’m curious to see what he thinks.
I grab a lemon bar, a buttered croissant, and a chocolate chip cookie and place them in a pastry box for easy transport.
“Alright J, here’s everything. Your total is $16.50,” I announce.
Josh hands me the money, and I input it into the register. Before he leaves, I decide to ask him about Gabriel.
“What do you think about Gabriel?” I blurt out, surprising myself with how direct I’ve become.
Josh turns towards me, raising an eyebrow. “Well, what do you want to know? I mean, I think he is a good guy. Why do you ask?”
I hesitate, feeling a little self-conscious. “Well, I may have offered to nanny Aura for him while he works…”
Josh breaks into a grin. “That’s great, Mills! You’ve always been so great with kids. You’re going to be good for that baby girl. She’s such a cutie.”
I smile, glad to hear some positive reinforcement. “Since when did you become such a teddy bear, Josh? You never cared about kids before and suddenly you can’t stop singing praises about your partner’s baby?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, though there’s a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “I guess Aura just has that effect on people. Plus, Gabriel’s been a great partner to me. It’s nice to see him in a different light, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that,” I murmur, thinking about how Gabriel has been acting toward me lately. Maybe there’s more to him than I thought.
Josh waves goodbye, taking his pastries and coffee, and I turn back to the counter, a little more confident in my decision to help with Aura.
I get home just after 4 p.m., already feeling the weight of the evening ahead. I head to the shower, needing to wash the weariness of the day off. As I step out, I stare at the closet, unable to decide what to wear.
I try on a few outfits but end up making a mess of my bedroom. Eventually, I settle on wearing jeans and a baby doll tank top that accentuates my curves in just the right way. I want to look good, but not too good. This is a work thing, after all.
Sitting at my vanity to reapply my foundation and put some blush on my eyelids for some color. I’m not one to wear a ton of makeup, but the three products I can’t live without are blush, mascara, and my brow pencil. They’re all I need to feel put together.
I look at my clock and see that it is almost five. I leave early and stop at Target to pick up a gift for Aura.
The baby section is overwhelming, and I end up wandering aimlessly for a while, unsure of what to buy. I end up choosing a cute outfit in 3-6 months and a panda lovey blanket. It’s simple, sweet, and practical.
On my way out, I pick up some snacks for myself—and for Gabriel, just in case. I grab jerky, trail mix, and candy. I figure one of these is a safe bet.
The drive to Gabriel’s house, the neighborhood familiar from when he texted me the address last night. I take my time driving, pulling into his driveway at 5:55 pm.
Five minutes early—that isn’t too early, is it? I park my car behind the white Honda in the driveway. I can only assume it belongs to Gabriel since he said he was off and his mom is most likely not here.
Gabriel’s house is a white brick house with wood accents. I can only imagine how light and airy the inside is, especially being this close to the water.
I hop out of my car and walk up the stone-paved walkway. Both sides have pink and white hydrangeas. I wonder if he planted these?
When I reach the big double wooden doors, I hesitate before knocking. Surely he knows I’m here. I mean, he can probably see me through the windows.
I knock, and it feels like forever before the door swings open. Gabriel stands there with a grin on his face, his eyes lighting up when they see me.
“Hey Bumper, come in,” he says, his voice warm and inviting.
Ugh, that smile. I’m in big trouble.