"That's fine," I say, just hoping to get her to stop her rant over how beautiful the day is. I kiss Ben on the forehead and lower him to the ground. "Stay up here and play for a bit while Kate and I go talk in the kitchen, okay, bud?"
"Okay," he says, and runs over to his toy chest. "I'll play with my LEGOs."
I turn away and head back down the stairs and into the kitchen. I can hear Kate following behind me.
"Want something to drink?" I ask her as I head to the refrigerator.
"I'm good," she says genially, and I hear her slide a chair out from the table to sit down. "But thanks for the offer."
I grab a bottle of water, uncap it, and walk over to the table. She watches as I approach, her eyes open and trusting of this new working relationship we will have.
As I pull my own chair out, I don't take my eyes off her. I sit down, set my bottle on the table, and say, "There's something about you that doesn't sit right with me, and I personally don't want you here."
Chapter 4
Kate
There's something about you that doesn't sit right with me, and I personally don't want you here.
Hmmmm.
Have you ever seen someone just ridiculously good-looking? Like a movie star or something? And you think there is nothing in the world that could ever make that person ugly. They just have such super-stellar good looks that they could be dunked in a vat of pig shit and still look fantastic.
But then that same person can do something horrible, or say something utterly mean and cruel, and it actually changes how that person looks to you. Makes their features look not as perfect, and twists their beauty into something unrecognizable.
Yeah, well, that's not what happens here when Zack tells me he doesn't want me here.
He's still just as gorgeous as ever, and that's because I can be objective in this moment right now.
His tone isn't cruel, but it's brutally honest. I don't take his words personally, and he's just as stunning now as he was ten seconds ago before he said that, and that's because I recognize the place from which those words hail.
They're coming from fear, uncertainty, and territorial rights. I recognized it on his face the minute he opened the door yesterday to greet me. The way he stared skeptically at me this morning before he left for his appointment. The way he's looking at me right now, utterly lost.
Zack Grantham isn't the first broken man I've dealt with. The world is so unkind at times, I'm sure he won't be the last. My daddy lived under a cloud of sorrow and guilt for many years after my mom died, so I know how profoundly someone can touch your life and then leave it in a shambles when they're gone.
Thus, I must tread carefully and thoughtfully where he's concerned. Zack's shoulders are squared and his chin is set in a stubborn pose that tells me he's almost gearing up for a fight. Unfortunately, he won't be getting that from me today.
"I can totally understand that," I tell him kindly. "I can come on a little strong and I speak my mind. I'll try to tone that down so I don't make you uncomfortable. And I'm well aware that I'm intruding in your home...your personal life. I'm also sure that I'll probably, but not with any ill intent, step on your toes at some point. Just let me know and I'll fix it. Mostly, I can imagine it's tough to see me with Ben...another woman providing a caretaking role to him. I'm sorry for that. Just know that everything I do, I do in Ben's best interests, and I'm also here to help you as well."
I finish by clasping my hands and setting them primly on the table before me. I look at him candidly, giving him permission to strike back at me if he didn't like anything I said.
Instead, I see him deflate right in front of me. I hadn't meant to take the wind out of his sails, as he has every right to feel ill at ease with this situation at first, but I think he maybe wanted to debate this with me so that he could come out on top, bang his fists against his chest like Tarzan, and proclaim himself still king of his castle.
"You seem to have it all figured out," Zack mutters as he slumps down in his chair.
"No," I assure him, "I don't. I just understand that this is a hard situation and I'm trying to put myself in your shoes. I want this to work, Zack. I need this job, and you and Ben need someone trustworthy. That's me."
He stares at me, his eyes still projecting unwarranted skepticism, but I accept it. I will just have to make him see that I'm good for Ben, and damn it...I'll be good for him too. One of the things I excelled at when dealing with my daddy and his depressive moods was bringing back a little bit of happiness and laughter to his life. I'm not foolish enough to think that my sunny personality and bright disposition were exactly the cure for my daddy's depression, but I spent many days basking in true and genuine smiles from him, and that was a direct result of my very cool yet goofy ability to make people laugh. My philosophy has always been to make lemonade from lemons, and I didn't mind imparting that little bit of wisdom to those around me. I may not have been able to get my daddy to give up the bottle completely, but I made him happy on many a day, and that has to count for something.
"Let's set some ground rules," Zack says in a change of subject. "First, your main priority is Ben. I understand you have experience with boys his age, so I'll assume you know how to deal with them."
"Tons of experience with boys his age," I affirm.
Zack nods. "Good. But don't ever forget this...I am the one and only parent he has now. You are not raising him...I am. You're just watching him. I expect you to defer to me when it comes to any issues, and I expect you to treat him the same way I do. He can't get mixed signals from us."
"Totally agree," I say. He's not telling me anything that I don't think he has a right to say.
Zack's eyes bore into me for a long moment, trying to ascertain if I'm heeding his words. And I totally am, so I stare right back at him.
Damn, his eyes are gorgeous. Light brown, and they seem to be filled with an inner glow that makes them shine like orbs of honeyed amber.
Shaking my head to chase away those completely inappropriate but absolutely true thoughts about my employer, I ask, "And I assume you want me to keep the house clean, do the grocery shopping, cooking, and such, right? I already started some of Ben's laundry this morning."
"Yeah," Zack says as he curves a hand around the back of his neck and gives it a rub. "You can take my SUV to the store and if you have to run Ben anywhere. Don't take the Mercedes. It's too small and I don't want Ben in it."
"What about when you're away? Won't you be taking your car to the airport or something?"
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Zack shakes his head. "No. I'll take Gina's car and leave you the Range Rover. It's safer."
"All right," I say with a bright and encouraging smile. Zack just looks back at me with half-dead eyes and resolute sadness. It makes me sad for him, and I have the wacky urge to give him a hug right now, but I'm quite sure that would cross all kinds of boundaries and have him kicking me out of the house. So far, he seems immune to my happy-go-lucky charm and I'll have to ease him into that slowly.
I think I'll take it upon myself, just the way I did with my daddy, to make Zack smile. Maybe not often, and maybe not permanently, but at least every once in a while.
It will do him good.
--
After washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting my pajamas on, I pull back the covers of my bed--which is so deliciously comfortable that I think I could spend most of my life in it--grab my cellphone off the nightstand, and call my daddy.
"Hey, pumpkin," he drawls as soon as he answers. His voice is strong and clear, so he hasn't been drinking today. Robert Francis isn't a complete drunk, but when he gets depressed, he hits the bottle hard. "Hey, Daddy," I say, and I can't help that my voice goes all girly and sweet when I talk to him. He may have been absent emotionally at times when I was growing up, but he was always by my side and supporting me when it truly counted. He's my daddy, and in some ways, I'm still his little girl.
I grew up fast, and that meant I st
arted to understand at an early age that grief can create the worst sort of demons for a person to battle. I accepted that, and although it made me sad to see my daddy so sad, it didn't make me love him any less.
Nope. Made me love him and cherish him more. Made me work hard to bring smiles to his worn face.
"So how's the new job going? All settled in?" he asks, and I can just envision him sitting in his old brown Naugahyde recliner.
"Yup. Everything's great," I say as I snuggle down into my pillows. "Oh, and you should see this little boy, Ben. He's adorable and witty, and he thinks I'm just the most hilarious thing ever."
"You are the most hilarious thing ever," my daddy says with a laugh. "Kelly's three boys think the sun rises and sets on you."
"And speaking of which...how are Kelly and the boys doing? I called her a few times this week, but she hasn't called me back."
My dad makes a chuffing noise of disappointment. "She's moved in with some guy that lives over in Rose Hill. Says she's in love."
"Again?" I ask drily.
"Again," he confirms with a sigh. "But she's got her a job at some little mom-and-pop convenience store out in the country. Seems happy."
"That's good," I say with a smile. "And Thomas?"