Page 30 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

“Great,” I mutter. “Love that for me.”

I exhale slowly, forcing myself to think like a rational adult instead of a woman currently one inconvenience away from a full emotional spiral.

Objectively, the interview went well. I didn’t completely embarrass myself, aside from the falling, and arguably the existing. Oliver liked me, which matters. That matters a lot. Captain liked me, which also feels important, possibly more important than it should.

Ethan…

I pause.

Ethan didn’t send me away on the spot, which feels like a win. A confusing, complicated, deeply inconvenient win.

I start walking again, my brain already spiraling ahead, because here’s the thing: if I get this job—notthat I’ll get the job—I’ll have to live with him, work for him, see him every day.

I let out a short, slightly hysterical laugh.

“Cool,” I say to the universe. “What could possibly go wrong?”

CHAPTER SIX

Ethan

I stand at my desk,the candidate files spread out in front of me, each one representing a decision I should, by all reasonable standards, be able to make without hesitation.

On paper, there's no shortage of options.

Three candidates remain under consideration. All of them qualified. All of them capable of fulfilling the requirements of the role to a satisfactory level.

And yet, the decision itself has already been made.

I reach for the first file, scanning it again out of habit rather than necessity. Strong references, structured approach, and a clear understanding of routine and discipline.

Oliver disengaged within minutes.

That’s not something I can overlook.

The second file offers a different set of strengths. Warmer, more flexible, less consistent. A tendency toward improvisation where structure is required.

Oliver withdrew entirely.

The third is technically flawless, the kind of candidate most families would accept without question. Every qualification accounted for, every expectation anticipated.

He lost interest before she finished her second answer.

I close the file and set it aside.

The exercise is redundant at this point. I’m not evaluating candidates anymore. I’m confirming a conclusion I reached the moment the final interview began.

There’s only one viable option.

And she’s the one candidate I shouldn’t be considering at all.

I rest my hands against the edge of the desk, allowing that reality to settle without interruption. This isn't a matter of uncertainty. It’s a matter of control.

Because the issue isn’t her suitability for the role.

That’s not in question.

She demonstrated a level of competence that cannot be fabricated. Her responses were grounded in experience rather than theory; her approach to childcare was defined by an understanding of balance rather than rigid adherence to process. She didn't attempt to perform. She didn't adjust her answers to align with what she believed I wanted to hear.