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I broke the “pretend I’m not here” rule while the boys were eating lunch and went over to where Jack sat with his notebook. “Do you seriously feed him from that fridge and pantry?”
Jack looked up from his page, which was somehow full of little notes in his surprisingly neat but small handwriting. My gaze shifted to the words when I noticed a sentence written in slightly thicker, darker lines. “Focus, dumbass.” Before I could double check to make sure I’d read what I thought I read, Jack flipped the paper over and looked up at me.
“I’ll give you more money to pick up groceries if you’d prefer.”
“You’re already paying me way too much. I think I can handle using some of it to get food that’s appropriate for kids.”
“No. I’ll make it eleven thousand per month.”
I arched an eyebrow. I had to remind myself that compared to the millions he probably made, another thousand was probably like telling me I could check his couch for coins every once in a while. “Does that mean I passed your little test? Am I hired?”
Jack didn’t answer right away, but he looked toward Griff and Ben, who were talking quietly and pointing to something on the table between them. “Yes. I want you immediately, if that’s possible.”
I felt my forehead scrunch up at his word choice. “Um. Can I at least shower first?” I said, making the joke before I had time to think if it was wise.
Jack’s eyes snapped up. He lowered his head, rubbing his eyes and sighing. “I haven’t been sleeping much lately. Yes. You’re hired. That’s what I meant to say.”
Focus, dumbass. I want you immediately.
I studied Jack as he reached to stuff his notepad in a backpack across the room and wondered. I was pretty sure I learned about some psychological thing in school where people didn’t actually misspeak. Instead, they blurted their subconscious desires when their filter malfunctioned.
Suddenly, I felt like my interest in psychology tripled. Except the idea that Jack Kerrigan could actually be interested in a nobody waitress like me felt too far-fetched.
Fantasizing about the obviously gorgeous athlete until now had felt safe. It felt safe because no part of me believed there was any overlap between my fantasy and reality. Now I wasn’t so sure. Even if it was just a seed of doubt, I could still feel it sinking into fertile dirt, spreading out roots.9JackI met Nola at the playground on East 110th in Central Park. I always found it a little off putting to be in the park, where the sounds of birds and laughter mingled with the muffled roar of engines and an occasional series of car horns.
I wore a black baseball cap, sunglasses, and a jacket to make my best effort at drawing no attention to myself. I’d still get stopped by the occasional mega-fan, but at least I wouldn’t create the snowball effect that sometimes happened when too many people recognized me and started following. Before long, there’d be a literal mob of people who didn’t even know what the original excitement was all about.
I watched Ben crouched down in a bare patch of dirt as he scratched something into the ground with a sharp stick. He looked so small and fragile. It made me think of what I’d thrust on him. No kid asked to have a famous dad or to feel the national spotlight swing its hot, blazing glare anywhere near him.
Maybe it wasn’t so shocking that he’d shown more and more signs of withdrawing into himself lately. Hell, most days I felt like doing the same.
I caught myself frowning when I spotted Nola coming down the path with Griff’s hand in hers. She was wearing a flowery sundress that showed off her milky, freckled legs. There was an alluring quality to her shockingly red hair and pale skin. It made her look untouched, as if even the sun hadn’t been allowed to kiss her skin.
I shifted on the bench, feeling an uncomfortable swelling at that idea.
Nola really did seem untouchable. No. Not untouchable. Untouched.
I decided that was the difference. She’d somehow kept the world from sullying her, but there she was for the taking. Right in the open, where it could only be moments before some asshole would come along and take what should have been—
Fuck. I pressed my palms into my thighs, trying to get a hold of myself. What was I about to think? Take what should have been mine? Did I think just because I’d hired her that she now belonged to me?
With considerable effort, I peeled my thoughts away from the mess in my head and tried to focus on something else. Except that something else was Nola bending down to scratch in the dirt with Griff. I found the little “V” shape of the thong she wore beneath her dress as it pressed against the fabric above her ass.
