Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“I’ll take anything,” I say. “I’ve interviewed at several places, and nobody is hiring. Part-time is better than nothing at all.”
“Okay, good. It’s nine to five, three days a week—Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It pays twenty-five dollars an hour, and if you aren’t needed that day, you’ll still be paid. Since you’ll only have two, sometimes three children with you, if you want your daughter to stay with you, she can, but there’s also room with her age group.”
“Thank you. As much as I’d love to keep her by my side, I’m sure she’d enjoy playing with kids her own age.”
“They grow up too quickly,” Ana says, rubbing her belly. “This is our second. My son, Kingston, will be with you a few days a week. He’s about to turn one.”
“Kingston?” I ask, recalling the name across the top of the building. “As in …”
“Yes.” She laughs. “Kingston Limited. My father built this company from the ground up. Last year, he stepped down and handed the reins over to my husband, Julian, and me. You’ll meet him eventually. He’ll be the grump complaining that I need to go home and take a nap.”
She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she secretly loves that her husband cares.
“Anyway,” she says, “the agency we use will have to run a background and reference check. They’re usually the ones to do the interviewing as well, but as you heard, caregivers are hard to come by, so I wasn’t about to let you out of my sight.”
She winks teasingly, and my heart soars at how sweet she is. She doesn’t know it, but she’s throwing me a lifeline.
“Does that mean I got the job?” I ask, excitement buzzing through me.
“As long as everything checks out, yes. I’ll call you once I’m given the green light.”
Shit. She’ll call me …
“I actually don’t have a phone,” I admit. “I just moved here, and money’s been tight. I do have an email though.”
She looks at me for several long seconds, and it feels as though she’s looking into my soul. Like she knows everything I’m thinking without me saying it. She knows there’s more to this story, and she’s going to call me out on it.
I wait for her to bombard me with questions or to change her mind, but instead, she says, “You’ll need a cell phone in case we don’t need you to come in, but the company can provide one. I’ll make sure it’s part of your contract.”
I sigh in relief. “Thank you.”
After we head out so I can grab Violet, who whines that she doesn’t want to leave, Ana walks us down to the lobby.
“I’ll be in touch,” she says, and I pray that’s the truth because if I don’t get this job, I have no idea what I’m going to do, moving forward.
And going back isn’t an option.
chapter three
RYDER
“Chunk, we’ve gotta go!”
“Yummy!” Addie calls back.
Of course she would pick today to sleep in. The one time I forget to set my alarm, and I have an early meeting to get to.
And is she fazed? Hell no. The only thing she cares about is that I’m letting her munch on fruit chips for breakfast since we’re running late and I don’t have time to make her anything.
I grab her diaper bag and my briefcase and then scoop my little girl into my arms so we can get out of here.
She munches on the chips all the way to the office, and I make a mental note to ask Cynthia to feed her a better breakfast. It’s crazy how one change in a schedule can throw the entire morning off.
When we arrive, since employees park in an attached garage, the private elevator takes us straight to the second floor, and I haul ass toward the childcare center, already five minutes late for my meeting. Thankfully, my assistant is buying everyone breakfast to hold them over until I arrive.
But when I plow through the door, instead of Cynthia waiting to take Addie from me, a woman I don’t recognize is standing there. Straight brown hair with honey highlights, sun-kissed skin. And when our gazes clash, I freeze in my spot, taken aback by eyes so strikingly blue that they remind me of my pool in the summertime—warm and refreshing.
“You must be Mr. Du Ponte,” the woman says with a smile that shows off her straight white teeth and a single dimple in her right cheek. “And this little girl must be Adeline.”
My checking her out stops abruptly the moment she speaks because, one, I’ve never seen this woman before so how the hell does she know who my daughter and I are? Two, why is she calling my daughter by that name? The only person who’s ever called her by her full name was her egg donor. And three, despite being annoyed and running late, I can’t remember the last time I noticed, let alone was instantly attracted to, the opposite sex. And that scares the shit out of me on many levels.