Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

I can’t help but wonder when his last girlfriend was.

He must have a girlfriend now. Men who look like that, with his charisma and brains, are never single. He obviously just hasn’t introduced her to the children yet.

Good for him. I hope she’s fucking his brains out. God, I know I would be if I was her.

Wait, where did that come from? Since when have I ever found thirty-nine-year-old men attractive? Not that I've ever really known one.

It’s okay to think he’s attractive. He is attractive. It doesn’t mean that I want to fuck him, although, one does have to wonder what he would be like in bed?

I bet he’s well endowed. My eyes drop to his jeans as I investigate my theory.

“I’m sorry, we haven’t met?” a snooty female voice interrupts. I glance up to see an attractive blonde lady standing over me, and I quickly stand from my seat.

“Hello. I’m Brielle.” I hold out my hand and she shakes it in hers.

“I’m Rebecca.” She smiles.

“Hi, Rebecca.” I smile awkwardly.

She frowns, clearly concentrating as she studies my face. “Have we met before?”

“No.” I pause as my eyes seek out Mr. Masters on the other field, completely oblivious. “I’m Mr. Masters new au pair. I’m from Australia.”

Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Oh, really?” She turns to look at Mr. Masters. “How… lovely.” She hesitates. “I currently have an au pair living with me, but she’s from Italy. Her name is Maria.”

“Really?” I smile.

"Yes, you two will have to meet. She's around your age, I'd say, and she's been with me for six months now."

“That would be fantastic, thank you.” Maybe I could get some survival tips off this girl. This could work out well.

“She’s not here today. Maria doesn’t work weekends.” She catches Mr. Masters eye and waves sexily, and he waves back as he kicks the ball.

“I’ll go get my chair and sit with you guys.”

“Okay.” I smile. “Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m fine, dear,” she replies as she walks off.

She seems surprisingly nice. I sit and look around for a moment, spotting Willow near the sheds. A group of three girls from the other team are around her, and I can tell by Willow’s body language that they are not her friends. She seems uncomfortable.

One of them hits the ball out of Willow’s hand.

What? Are they messing around?

I watch them and unease fills me. I look around, but nobody else seems to be noticing this exchange. Maybe they are her friends and I’m just imagining things.

Mr. Masters comes and takes a seat next to me just as I sit down, while Sam keeps kicking with another boy.

“Who are those girls talking to Willow?” I ask him.

He narrows his eyes, trying to focus.

“Do you wear glasses?” I ask as I watch him.

“I don’t need glasses,” he huffs.

“Then why are you squinting?”