Chapter Four
Mike
Out of all the people who could have taken over the Christmas store in town, it had to be her. And out of all the businesses Poppy could have chosen to use the phone at, it had to be that one.
Someone is having a fucking laugh right now and it isn’t me. It’s not Poppy either since she’s too busy giving me the silent treatment.
My gaze shifts to the passenger seat where I see her pressed up against the door, as if she can’t get far enough away from me. She hasn’t said one damn word since we got in the car, and I fucking hate it.
“Are you going to ignore me all night?” I ask.
My question is met with more silence.
“Come on, Poppy. You can’t expect me to leave you with someone we don’t even know.”
That remark sparks a reaction. She finally looks over at me, her expression pinched with anger. “Speak for yourself. I know her just fine.”
I shake my head. “No, you don’t. You can’t. Not after spending only fifteen minutes with her.”
Her chin lifts stubbornly. “I know all I need to.”
“Yeah, like what?” I ask, challenging that statement.
“I know she’s from California and loves Christmas just like I do,” she says as if that’s more than enough. “And that she’s only here to run the store until her cousin sells it because that’s what his company does.”
And here I thought Sally the Snail might be around for good. I should be relieved to know she isn’t, but for some reason, I’m left with the same irrational disappointment I felt this morning when I found out she was from California. It makes zero fucking sense.
“I also know she’s a lot better than the No Show Nancy you hired,” she adds, hitting below the belt.
A heavy dose of guilt floods my chest, knowing she’s right. Usually, I would never hire a teenager for full-time after-school care, especially with my unpredictable schedule, but I was desperate, and Lisa Malenchuck came highly recommended.
I will not make that mistake again.
Knowing my little sister was abandoned over a fucking cheerleading tryout makes me see red. I promised her years ago that she would never go through something like that again, not while she was with me, and I failed her.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have hired her,” I admit, taking full responsibility. “I’m sorry, Poppy. I’ll never let that happen to you again.”
The anger in her expression slowly dissipates. “It’s fine,” she mutters. “It’s not your fault.”
She’s wrong. It is my fault, but I don’t bother arguing about it. Instead, I offer another solution to our problem. “What about Ellie?” I suggest, mentioning my longtime friend. “You like hanging out with her. I could see about you going to the flower shop after school until I finish work.”
I held off asking my friends in the first place because I knew they wouldn’t accept money from me. They also already help a lot when I’m on call. However, I am left with few options at this point.
“I do love Ellie, and the flower shop,” she agrees, sending a surge of hope through my chest. “But I also like Hollis and the Christmas store.”
My frustration mounts as she continues to fixate on a complete fucking stranger. You would think they’ve known each other for years with how captivated she is by her.
Just like you.
The thought creeps in, unbidden and unwelcome.
“She was really nice to me today, Mike,” she continues, her voice softening. “She listened to everything I said and even seemed interested in it. She didn’t get annoyed with me like a lot of my other babysitters do.”
I tense, hating to hear anyone has treated her like that. It’s something she never mentioned before. If she had, I would have fired them on the spot.
“She even plans to go shopping this weekend to buy stuff for my donation box at school.”
So, California, is not only hot as fuck, she’s also a martyr. Great. Just great.
“And you know how much I love that store,” she adds.
I do. It’s her favorite in town, next to the flower shop. She was ecstatic when she found out it was reopening, which is probably why she chose to use that phone today instead of Ellie’s.
“Can’t I help out Hollis at the store until after the holidays and then go to Ellie’s?” she adds, her voice a delicate plea.
It threatens to erode my resolve, but I manage to stand strong. “I’m sorry, Poppy, but no.”
“Why?” she asks again, genuinely confused.
Because then I will be forced to see the Californian beauty every day and it’s a temptation I don’t need—nor one I can control. Especially now. The more I hear about her, the more I’m drawn to her.
Of course, I don’t tell her that. “Because I want you with someone I know and trust,” I say instead. “Especially after what happened today. I refuse to take any more chances.”
She sinks back into her seat with a deflated sigh, her small frame weighed down by disappointment, and it makes me feel like absolute shit.
“Look, just give me a chance to talk with Ellie,” I add, hoping to soften the blow. “If everything works out, you can always go across the street to visit with Hollis. Deal?”
“Fine,” she concedes with a grumble before adding, “but after you talk to Ellie, you need to apologize to Hollis.”
My back straightens. “For what?”
“You know what,” she counters, giving me a pointed look. One that would make you think she’s the adult and not the other way around. “You were rude to her, even grumpier than usual.”
I’m tempted to deny it, but it would be a blatant lie. How can I explain to her that it’s because this mere stranger stirs up emotions in me that I have no business feeling? Emotions that make no sense, especially when it comes to me. I pride myself on being a rational guy. I don’t let myself get caught up in feelings, except when it comes to my baby sister, but it seems hot California women are the exception.
I look over at her and find her gaze fixed on me expectantly, awaiting compliance. “You do remember she rear-ended me this morning, right?”
She gives me an exaggerated eye roll, as if I’m nothing more than a petulant child. “Whatever,” she mutters before changing the subject. “Can we go get our Christmas tree this weekend?”
I suppress a groan. “Not this weekend. I’ve got too much going on. We’ll see about next weekend.”
“But if we wait much longer, all the good trees will be gone,” she protests, worry creeping into her voice.
“It’s not even December yet,” I argue, trying to reason with her. “We have plenty of time.”
“Tomorrow is the first,” she says. “Besides, Annemarie’s mom put their tree up three weeks ago,” she adds, referencing her best friend with a hint of envy.
“That’s because Annemarie’s mom is nutty about that shit,” I counter. “No one should put a tree up before December. There should be a law against it.”
“Says the biggest Grinch I know,” she tosses back, her tone laced with playfulness.
Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you grow up thinking Santa visited everyone else’s house but yours. When in reality, they just had parents who cared about them. If it wasn’t for the little girl sitting next to me, I wouldn’t even have a tree, but she deserves to have everything I didn’t.
“Let’s focus on finding you a new sitter first,” I tell her. “Then we’ll worry about a Christmas tree, okay?”
She nods her agreement. “Yeah, okay.”
A wave of contentment settles over me, grateful that the tension between us has eased. At least for the time being.
“Hey, Mike?”
The soft sound of my name pulls my attention back to her. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for leaving work to pick me up,” she says, her voice gentle. “I know it’s not easy for you.”
Her gratitude for something she should never have to be grateful for ignites a burn in my chest. “You don’t have to thank me, Poppy. I’ll always come for you, no matter what.”
It’s a promise I made when I first brought her to live with me, and it’s one I intend to keep. For as long as I live, she will never know fear or harm again. I will forever keep her safe.