Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“So what kind of playdate do you have, Mia?” Austin asks, a handsome grin on his face as he settles into his chair at the table.
I frown at his inquiry, not wanting to get into my personal life when I am trying to keep a professional distance from him.
Still, this is an easy question in front of Bailey. “I’m having dinner with friends.”
“Female friends?” he asks, surprising me.
“Friends from my city days,” I say vaguely, if only because it really is none of his business. If we are going to keep things normal, he shouldn’t be asking.
I swing around, pick up oven mitts, and carry the casserole tin to the already set table.
“How are you getting there?” he asks.
I tell myself this is normal conversation, not to read anything into it. Even if we never discussed my social life before, and I’ve gone out on the admittedly rare Friday or Saturday night.
“The train,” I say, joining them and sitting down, pulling my chair in so I am more comfortable.
He frowns at that.
“Something wrong?”
“Nothing going in. It’s just a little empty and dangerous coming back alone at night.”
“I’ll be okay,” I say, understanding his point. “I’m not coming home all that late and I’ll keep my eyes open.”
A growl-like noise sounds from deep in his throat. I can’t tell if he is agreeing or still unhappy with my choice in transportation, but he doesn’t get a say.
“Going anywhere fun?” he asks.
“I’m meeting the girls at happy hour after my friends get off work.” I catch my slip immediately. Yes, I am going with my girlfriends.
His frown turns into an obviously satisfied smile, telling me he’d have cared if I had plans with guys, too. The notion pleases me, which is ridiculous. I shouldn’t care what Austin thinks of my social life. We aren’t going to go there. No repeat of the kiss. Not again.
I serve Bailey a smaller portion of lasagna and busy myself giving Austin his before taking my own. Bailey, meanwhile, watches the grown-ups talk in unusual silence, and now she digs into her meal quickly and with gusto, spreading the dinner all over her face.
I nudge her lightly. “Napkin,” I say, pointing to her sauce-covered cheeks.
The child wipes her face, succeeding in smearing the red sauce around even more. With a chuckle, I dip my napkin into a glass of water and wipe Bailey’s mouth and cheeks.
Austin’s gaze follows the interchange, his dark eyes warming at the sight.
Flustered, I focus on my meal. Luckily, Bailey finishes her food quickly and the chatting begins again, giving me a much-needed break from Austin’s questions and concerns and my desire for a man I can’t, shouldn’t have.
* * *
Mia
It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a bar during happy hour. The loud din of voices and laughter rings around me, and I can’t hear my friends talk over the noise. I turn down offers from guys who want to buy me a drink, not in the mood for small talk with strangers. I’d rather be catching up with my girls than fending off potential advances. Besides, my mind is occupied with thoughts of one man only, and I can’t get him out of my head.
From the bar, we go to a nightclub, and though there still isn’t quiet time to talk, I dance with my friends and have a great time. The night goes fast, and before I realize it, it is past eleven. I want to grab a train home, not wait until the last one that will be completely empty.
“Hey,” Amber, my good friend from my days being a nanny in Manhattan, says, having to yell in my ear. “You have that I’m-done-here look.”
I smile. “You know me.”
“Let’s go. I’ll share your cab to Grand Central. I have to pass there on the way to my place anyway.”
“Great!” We say good-bye to the others, and Amber and I head for the exit.
We walk through the doors and into the fresh, cool night air, the silence surrounding us a welcome relief.
“Oh, my God. Peace and quiet!” Amber exclaims.
“Tell me about it. Oh, look, there’s a coffee place on the corner. Let’s get something before we grab a cab.”
We head into the shop and place our orders, sitting down to wait for them to be made. “So what’s up with you? You seem a little off tonight. Not that we could talk over the noise but that’s why we’re here. Problems with the new job?”
I shake my head. “Just the opposite. It’s a dream job. Great kid, nice room, access to the car, pay is good.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Amber knows me well. She held my hand and saw me through the trial with my last employer, and the wife’s ranting and raving that I ruined her family, even though it was her husband who committed an illegal deed. Parker Alexander, thinking he was home alone, had a business meeting with an associate during which they discussed the kind of retirement scam that would make Bernie Madoff flinch.