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I realize Fender is already halfway to my house and force my feet to move. I rush in front of him and unlock the door before motioning him inside.
“Bedroom,” he rumbles.
I lead him toward Isla’s room and he places her on the bed. She curls up on her side, fast asleep. She didn’t notice me coming home or Fender carrying her. When my girl’s out, she’s out.
I kiss her forehead before following Fender to the front door.
“Thanks for watching my girl today.”
He scowls. “Someone had to since all you do is work.”
I rear back. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You work too much.”
He turns and begins walking back to his house. I shut the door behind me and rush after him.
“Not so fast, mister. Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the man who cared for your child for the past six hours. Where were you? Oh wait. I know. Working.”
My nostrils flare. How dare he?
“You hardly talk and this is how you decide to break your silence? By being a complete and utter asshole?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Classic. You blame someone else since you can’t accept responsibility for your daughter’s welfare.”
“I accept responsibility for my daughter’s welfare.” I pound my chest. “I’m the one who’s been there since day one. I’m the one who’s raised her on my own. It damn well wasn’t her father who took off before she was six months old because ‘babies are hard’. Or my parents who kicked me out when they found out I was pregnant. Never mind I was seventeen years old and a senior in high school.”
“You should work less.”
My word. He’s like a dog with a bone. Good thing I grew up with a Great Dane. I got this.
I stab his chest with my finger. “I work as much as I can to give my daughter everything she wants. How do you think we can afford this house? It’s not because my parents gave me any money or Isla’s dad chipped in. No, this is all my hard work. I will work my fingers to the bone if it means Isla never has to suffer the way I did.”
I realize I’m still touching his chest. In fact, my finger stabbing him has become my hand caressing him. Those muscles feel hard and strong. Strong enough to carry the burdens of the world.
What am I thinking? I yank my hand away.
“What Isla needs is a parent who’s there for her.”
Oh, no he didn’t. He did not presume to know what’s best for my daughter. I feel a muscle tick in my jaw. I wouldn’t be surprised if steam is coming out of my ears.
“Are you saying I’m not there for my daughter?”
He opens his mouth but I slice a hand in the air. I’m talking now.
“I was there when she was teething. I was there when she had colic and screamed all night. I was there when she had explosive diarrhea and our entire apartment smelled rancid. I was there when she had nightmares after my grandparents died.”
“You’ve made your point,” he grumbles.
“I’m not done yet.” I’m on a roll now. “I was there when she graduated from kindergarten. I was there when she got an award for learning her ABCs the fastest of everyone in the class. I was there when she did the citywide track meet and won a bronze medal for the high jump.”
“Those things are all in the past. What about now?”
I consider his neck. It’s big but I bet I could strangle him. Who’s going to stop me? No one, that’s who. I am a mother on a mission.
“It’s a new job. I’ve only been in town for a few months. I need to settle in and train Brody. I’ve never been a personal assistant before. I need to show him I can do the job. Prove to him hiring me wasn’t a mistake even though I have zero experience.
