“Go away,” I say, but I’m fucking smiling because her teasing doesn’t piss me off the way most things do.
Candy bats her eyes at me and then spins around and leaves the room. I hear her rounding up the twins and checking the backdoors. Soon her car starts and she disappears down the road toward the hotel she currently calls home. I imagine her moving into a house and getting settled into White Horse. Keeping Candy happy means making me happy and me being happy is all that really matters in life.
SEVEN - CANDY
Hayes’s realtor Janice shows us three houses on the north side of White Horse before we arrive at the red brick box-style home. I don’t think much of the flat front exterior. Despite its lack of hominess, the place feels safe. Strong, unassuming, ready to withstand chaos. Sort of like Hayes’s office.
When we left the hotel this morning, the twins were thrilled to look for a house. Now they’re tired and bored. The first house interested them, but the yard was tiny, and Chipper said the bedrooms smelled evil. When Cricket asked what evil smelled like, he said her butt. Things went downhill from there.
By the time we see the brick box, they’re ready to live anywhere.
“Nothing feels like home,” Chipper whines after the third house.
I don’t know what home feels like. Since I left home at eighteen, I’ve lived in apartments and the Eddison family’s guest house. I don’t know what I’m looking for in this rental besides three bedrooms, a decent backyard, and enough space in the house for us not to step on each other. My standards are low, yet I still can’t find anything that fits until we drive up to the brick box.
The inside of the house is painted a sunny, pale yellow. The floors alternate between plush carpet and shiny wood. Something about the house reminds me of Hayes. Not the yellow, of course, but the place’s no-nonsense flow. The tall ceilings remind me of him too. The house isn’t fancy but has good bones. Like with Hayes, I’m attracted to something at the house’s core.
“I like it,” I tell Chipper and Cricket while we stand upstairs.
“It feels like a home,” Chipper says.
“The bedrooms are small,” Cricket mumbles and then adds, “We’re used to sharing a room. Having two will be good.”
“Do you like it, though?” I ask. “We don’t have to move here or anywhere until you guys are happy.”
I feel guilty again for taking them away from Cincinnati. They lost their school, friends, and grandparents. I worried about them turning soft from that plush life, and made the decision to ditch the drama Toby’s new wife created. It was my call, but the kids have to live with the consequences.
“I like this house,” Chipper says, walking into a bedroom. “This is mine.”
Cricket runs to the second smaller bedroom. “Mine has a bigger window.”
“Mine has a bigger closet!” Chipper yells.
Smiling, I have my answer. Downstairs, I talk with Janice.
“Hayes made clear you can have whatever house you wanted. He told me to help you with moving too.”
“I don’t have much to move. We lived in a furnished house back in Cincinnati. Where’s a good place to buy furniture?”
“Mister Hayes owns Rickman’s Furniture. I’m sure you’ll get a good deal there.”
Janice’s tone makes me wonder if she thinks Hayes and I are playing hip gymnastics. She likely views me as his assistant in name only. If she works harder and helps more, I’m cool with this misperception. I learned long ago not to give a flying fuck what strangers thought about me. Hell, I only mildly care what my friends think. Life is too short to stress others’ opinions.
EIGHT - HAYES
Who in the fuck have I hired? Candy is a huge pain in the ass yet a great assistant. The problem is she’s a good looking chick. Scratch that. She’s fucking gorgeous, but I’ve seen plenty of gorgeous women who might even be better looking than Candy. None of them got under my skin. Not a single fucking one of them ever made me wonder about their soft hair.
Candy is fun to look at with her tall, athletic build. Her blonde hair hangs loosely down her back, and I find myself wondering what it looks like up in a ponytail. My obsessed brain wants to see her neck bare. She’s been my assistant for three days, and I’m already a dog in heat.
I feel her in the next room. Fucking feel her breathing. I can close my eyes and sense her on my skin. I hate how Candy toys with me without even her knowing it. What in the fuck will happen if she ever figures out what she can do to me?
I have shit to do today. Now I have a competent assistant so I should be working more. Not me, though. Not with Candy in the next damn room.
Breaking pencils keeps me from standing up and checking on her every ten minutes. An hour later, I’m out of damn pencils, and I’m forced to ask her to bring me more. Breaking pencils isn’t a long-term fucking plan.