Now I was twenty-five and broke. And I didn’t think my underwear—no matter how flashy—was going to make my professional dreams a reality. I was going to have to find a job. Fast.
“What’s the worst breakup you ever had?” I asked Lara.
She blinked, closing her magazine for a moment. “I thought we weren’t talking about—”
“We’re not. I’m asking about you.”
She wrinkled her pert nose, her heart-shaped lips tilting to the side. “Probably Tim Erickson. My first love in high school. He dumped me right before prom.”
“How did you get back on your feet? What did you do?” I asked.
“I ate a lot of Chinese food.”
I nodded.
“Then I went to prom with someone really hot.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Yeah, my cousin.” She laughed. “But my ex didn’t know that. Oh, and I got a part-time job. Got a new boyfriend out of that too.”
“Hmm.” I placed the magazine in front of me, then sat up cross-legged on the pull-out.
“Will you hand me my computer?” I asked.
“Uh-oh, I see gears turning. What are you up to?”
“Maybe fresh starts have some merit. I’m going to get started. Now, let’s see. I have to—” I opened a new tab on the Internet browser. “Find a new apartment.” I opened another tab. “Get new furniture.” I opened another tab. “Buy food for said apartment.” Another tab. “Find a job.”
Lara snatched the computer away from me. “Maybe let’s focus on one thing at a time. You look like you’re about to hyperventilate.”
I couldn’t deny it. My chest was so tight that it hurt to breathe. “Okay, fine.”
“Now, what kind of job do you want?” Lara asked, her voice therapist-calm.
“Something better than the damn café.” I sniffed. “If I never smell coffee again, it’ll be too soon.”
“The hell you say,” Lara hissed. She was a coffee lover.
“Fine. Okay, for real, though. Maybe something with kids?”
“That’s good. You’re great with kids.” Lara typed furiously and then scanned the entries on the jobs website while I stared at the laptop screen. “Oh my God, I found the perfect one. You’re never going to believe it.”
She swiveled the screen around and I glanced at the listing. It was a full-time nanny position. A single father was hoping someone could become a live-in nanny for his twelve-month-old little girl.
“Live-in?” I read aloud.
“Isn’t it perfect?” Lara asked. “Room and board, and a job to boot. Like all your prayers have been answered. He wants someone nurturing and attentive, loving and patient. That’s you all day.”
“That’s nice of you to say.” I read over the description again, then my eyes widened when I reached the salary. It was more—much more, in fact—than I’d been making at the café. And with none of that money going toward rent . . .
“This is sort of a no-brainer, huh?” I asked.
Lara grinned, and I clicked on the listing’s e-mail address, hoping that this was exactly as perfect as it seemed.
Despite myself, excitement and hope bubbled up inside my chest, and I tapped away at the keyboard with a thrill of newfound energy.
Everything could be different.
All I needed to do was land this job . . .
Chapter Three
Max
Somehow I did it. I’d survived my first three nights alone with my daughter. My entire house was trashed and we’d eaten out for almost every meal, but hey, this was survival. Those restaurants with carry-out specials where you park in a designated spot and they bring your food out to you? Those were my new favorite thing.
I hadn’t slept much, my work had suffered, and it was all ten times harder and more overwhelming to take care of a small person than I ever imagined it would be. But I was alive and so was Dylan. That had to count for something, right?
Dylan was currently playing with a set of plastic measuring cups and spoons on the kitchen floor. We needed to go shopping. Groceries, toys—you name it, I probably needed it. But I didn’t want to fill my house with plastic junk she didn’t need. I wasn’t going to be one of those crazy helicopter parents. I was going to be a cool dad. I wanted to raise a little girl who knew how to use tools, not one who was obsessed with becoming a Disney princess.
The doorbell rang, and I could have dropped to my knees with joy at that moment. It meant Addison Lane, one of the nanny candidates, was here for her interview.
Surveying my living room, I inwardly groaned. It looked like an M-4 had detonated in here. Stray clothes, dirty dishes, and toys were scattered everywhere.
Shit.
Since it was too late to do anything about it, I pushed it from my brain and picked up Dylan from where she was playing on the floor to go and answer the door.