Then he turns to me.And just like that, my smile slips.
The look on his face is different now, slack in a way that makes me feel like we’ve stepped out of the soft little bubble of the afternoon and back into real life all at once.Business again.
My stomach dips.
He slides one hand into the pocket of his joggers and looks at me for a second like he’s arranging his thoughts into the cleanest, least emotional order possible.
“You’re hired,” he says carefully.
I blink. “Oh.”Brilliant response, Carly. Really sharp stuff.
He glances toward the back seat, where Penelope is now pressing her hand to the window for reasons known only to children. “She likes you. That’s the deciding factor.”
Something warm blooms in my chest so fast it almost hurts.
Penelope likes me.
I got the job.
I got the job.
Somehow, again, I’ve nailed something despite being at my rock bottom.
But tangled right up with that is a smaller, sharper feeling. He said it so plainly, like this isn’t about me as a person, not really. Not about chemistry or trust forming or him seeing something in me beyond usefulness. Just a simple equation: his daughter approves, so I’m in.
And that’s fair.Of course it’s fair. It’s about Penelope, not me, and that makes complete sense— he needs this forher. He would have chosen the first person to get along with her this well and be willing to move in. But still, the tiny bruise of it settles somewhere under my ribs before I can stop it.
He keeps going in that same clipped, practical tone. “I’ll have a contract drafted. It’ll be separate from your Sparkks paperworkunless it’s easier for you tax-wise to lump it together. We’ll spell out hours, responsibilities, confidentiality, all of it.”
“Okay, yeah,” I say, because my brain is still catching up. “Great.”
He studies me. “How much do you want as a salary?”
I stare at him. “We already discussed salary,” I say, bewildered.
His expression doesn’t change. “For your promotion, yes. Not this.”
“Oh.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious. I hadn’t even considered this. “Honestly, I mean… I’d be living with you, right?”
“Yes.”
“And meals would be covered? Or at least kitchen access and stuff?”
A faint line appears between his brows. “Obviously.”
“Then I’m happy to do it for room and board,” I say. “Really. Especially since I’d still be getting paid by Sparkks. I don’t need anything crazy, except maybe an adjustment on the insurance for the company car that comes with the promotion.”
He just stares at me.Actually stares.Not in the hot way, but in the deeply baffled way.
For one horrible second, I think maybe I’ve insulted him somehow, or maybe myself, or even his wealth as a concept.
“You don’t have to pretend money isn’t a factor,” he says at last.
My mouth falls open. “I’m not—I’m not pretending, Grayson.”
He ignores that, or maybe he just doesn’t believe me. “I’m not asking you to take on childcare, transportation, and a live-in schedule for free because you happen to need a place to sleep and access to a kitchen. That would be ridiculous.”
I blink again.
