Chapter 5 Flo
This is a trial, I remind myself as I pull up outside Evan’s house.
The summer Thursday sun that’s shining brightly today puts me in a somewhat chipper mood, but I know he’ll be watching and scrutinising my every move, which puts a damper on things.
Judging by how desperate his coach sounded the other day, though, he’s not really in a position to fire me over minor details.
Because look how far that’s got him.
I manoeuvre my car, eyes drifting to a grumpy-looking Evan—very on brand. If he were wearing a watch, I’m sure he’d be glancing at it right now for dramatic effect to remind me of how I’m two minutes late.
There was traffic. And I’d forgotten to top up my emergency stash of candy in my car, so I needed to stop at the store.
The loose flannel he wears over the top of his plain white T-shirt is slightly crinkled, and his jawline looks like it hasn’t seen a razor in a few days, which only adds to the rugged look he’s currently sporting.
He’s incredibly hard to look away from, especially since he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up as I park, eyes lifting every few seconds to peek at me.
“You do know your car is missing a door handle, right?”
The scratched hood gains two hard slaps from me. “She may not be a looker, but she gets me places, and that’s all that matters.”
He hums. “Brought enough stuff?” Evan questions as I pop open my trunk, lifting my bags out.
“Just the necessities.”
I’m surprised when he takes the luggage from my grip with calloused hands and slings it over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing. His muscles ripple, reminding me that this man smashes other men’s faces into the dirt for a living and could probably snap me like a toothpick with his middle toe.
“It’s only until the weekend is up, so if this doesn’t work out—”
“Then I’m not hired.” I wave his comment away. “I know, I know. It’s been explained to me. You should try being a little more optimistic.”
He doesn’t respond, but beckons me toward the large cabin to the left of the main house.
It once looked like it was standing on its last leg with its roof bowed, paint chipped, and overgrown vines snaking across the front door like some kind of evergreen guard, but it looks completely different now.
Like it’s brand new.
The white panelling is sparkling, having been either freshly washed or installed. As we approach, a new wooden door stares back at me, standing proud with its shiny steel horseshoe-shaped knocker. There’s no trace of the vines anymore, indicating they’ve been clipped back.
“My sister picked everything out,” Evan says as he unlocks the front door and opens it, gesturing for me to enter before him. “She said blue is in at the moment, especially these shades.”
I expect to be hit with the scent of must and dirt, but I get a pleasant surprise instead.
Coconut fills the air as the blue diffuser, placed on the cabinet by the front door, works overtime.
The furniture looks nicer than anything I’ve owned—my apartment came furnished, so it wasn’t mine—and the couch looks cosy enough to sleep on.
Classy and calming shades of blue are splashed throughout the place—cushions, throws and paintings—giving it a comforting and fresh feel.
Ocean. Royal. Baby. All tied together perfectly.
It must have cost Evan a lot of money to complete this renovation in just a few days, but then again, I’m sure doing so didn’t even make a dent in his bank account. The man probably has money pouring out of his ears.
“It's amazing.” My fingers wrap around the bannister of the bed, the cool metal biting into my flesh. “Is your sister some kind of interior designer or something?”
“Not by trade. She buys and sells properties, particularly old businesses, and does them up to resell as apartments, usually.” Evan shrugs, and I notice how his harsh eyes soften at the mention of his sister, before he blinks.
He shuffles his feet awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and drops my bags.
“Anyway, there's some food in the fridge over there. Tea and coffee are on the side, and laundry detergent, softener and toiletries are stocked for you, too.” He looks down at my bags. “Not that I think you’ll need to do any laundry here. You’ve brought enough clothes for an entire month.”
“Leo clearly likes to keep busy. I figured I’d need to bring a good few changes of outfits for all the activities we’re going to get up to. I was thinking of taking him ziplining first thing tomorrow. I assume you’re all good with that?”
Evan opens his mouth to speak with matching wide eyes, but the ring of my laughter stops him.
“I’m kidding. It’s a joke,” I say on a chuckle. “Just the basics this weekend, like you specified in the very long email your coach forwarded. You need me to cook for Leo, bathe him, put him to bed, teach him clarinet, whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it.”
Evan freezes, a deeper crease forming between his eyebrows. “Clarinet? Why the fuck would you teach him how to play the clarinet?”
“I don’t know. You said you wanted him to learn some new skills. He’d make a great little Squidward.” I settle down on the couch, making myself at home.
“What the fuck is a ‘Squidward’?”
“You have a kid and you don’t know what—” My face contorts, and I cover my mouth with my palm to stop myself from laughing at Evan.
“Never mind. Explaining it probably won’t help my case.
So, how are things working around here? Do we draw a line down the middle of the land to segregate things and keep us from bumping into each other?
Try to stay out of each other’s way? I don’t want to make you moodier than you already are. ”
He narrows his eyes at me, head tilting to the side. “You’re on my property, remember?”
“Got it, Captain Control Freak.”
“I’m not a control freak.”
“Whatever you say.” He totally is, and there’s secretly a part of me that enjoys it. I like a man who knows what he wants… and how he wants it.
But then he has to go and ruin it with the way he looks at me, like how he is now.
Grumpy bastard.
Evan looks fucking good today, wearing a backwards cap that I’m almost certain he has in every colour under the sun.
Today’s choice, though: Forest green. His legs are wrapped in denim fabric, the jeans loose enough to look comfortable, but tight enough to show off the impressive size of his thighs.
Seeing them up close feels like something out of a fever dream, because I know more than a few people who would pay good money to get a good view of Evan West’s legs.
We settle into what seems to be, for him, an awkward silence, but I spend the few seconds admiring the stitchwork on the couch cushion beside me—a chain stitch. It’s intricately done, and the pattern is delicate and pretty.
This place looks perfect for relaxing in the sun and sewing, and I find myself giddy with thoughts of spending my evenings sitting on the porch with a thread and needle in hand after a long day getting into trouble with Leo.
My old apartment was next to a busy highway, and relaxation was rare, so if I play my cards right, this cabin could be mine for the next two months.
“Your job before this at Starbound, what was it?” Evan braces himself against the wooden doorframe above, arms raised, fingers digging in. It stretches the T-shirt over his chest ever so slightly, outlining his impressive pectoral muscles.
But he peers down at me nonchalantly, as if this pose isn’t a woman’s kryptonite, like he doesn’t even realise that what he’s doing right now is incredibly fucking distracting.
He has this whole mysterious, hot, single daddy thing going for him, and if I didn’t think he was such a grumpy ass, I might find it hot.
“I was a talent agent. Had a few clients I was in charge of.”
His brows raise, and I can see he’s grinding his teeth together by the way his sharp jawline pops. “You were a talent agent?”
“Yep.”
“Right… well, this isn’t going—”
I stand, disliking the judgmental tone he uses.
I had a feeling he would act this way. He was probably hoping I was just an intern who did the coffee run every day and who wasn’t allowed anywhere near the important, top-secret stuff, but just because I was, doesn’t mean I’m the same as the story-hungry hyenas out there.
“Okay, let's just get this out of the way while we’re here. No, I’m not interested in digging into your personal life.
No, I’m not using this job as a means to get a killer story to get my old job at Starbound back.
I quit because I hated it there, and no, I have no plan on sharing anything that goes on here with anyone in that industry.
I’ve left for good. I’m here because I need a job, you need a nanny, and I like Leo. ”
I’m met with silence.
God, it’s so quiet, I want the ground to swallow me whole.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come out with all that, but I wanted to prevent Evan from jumping to conclusions before he had the chance.
I could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was questioning my intentions and was worried about what I’ve already seen and heard.
For someone who used to work in an industry that survived on drama, it’s ironic that I hate it. It stresses me out, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I watched a reality TV show or read a sleazy magazine for any reason other than research purposes for Starbound.
“You’re a little defensive, huh?”
I glare. “You’re a little judgmental, huh?”
He releases a dry huff of humour out of his nose before patting the top of the wooden doorway twice and pushing himself off it.
“I can’t argue with that.” His eyes remain on my form, dropping down to my clavicle and tracing the bone before he snaps them back up, eyebrows pulled together.
“I’ll let you get settled in. Message me if you need anything. See you first thing tomorrow.”
“So you’re not firing me?”
“Not yet.”