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“Um, I know you read my background check before I started working for Kingston.” Briar’s voice was wobbly. “But I’ve just gone through a pretty brutal divorce. I’m not ready to see anyone right now. Or anytime soon, really. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. I get it. It’s okay.”
Despite all the uncomfortable undercurrents circulating outside, I smiled to myself.
And I really didn’t want to think about why.
Chapter Seven
One week later
Briar
After the first set visit, I had a better understanding of what I needed to pack for Zoe. But things got hella awkward with Adam after I’d turned him down. I thought we could be friends, despite my rejection, but apparently Adam wasn’t that kind of guy. He was uncomfortably polite when he escorted us to King’s trailer. I couldn’t even tell you what about it made me uncomfortable—it was just the vibe I felt when I was around him. Like he was angry I’d turned him down.
But fortunately he always found something else to do instead of hanging out with me while Kingston had some alone time with his daughter. So I had the choice to either awkwardly hover over them inside or sit by myself outside and screw around on my phone.
I picked the latter.
Which was why I was sitting alone on the uncomfortable metal steps outside his trailer, scrolling through my phone, when I got a weird text.
Mom: Is there something you forgot to tell me?
I had to read it three times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.Suddenly I felt like a teenager all over again. Like when I’d tried to hide the fact that Lyla and I had snuck out to a bonfire and drank way too much. Nothing was hidden, by the way. Drunk teenagers are so stupid.
Mom: Hello?
Me: What are you talking about?
Mom’s reply was a link to a gossip website,The Babbler.
Kingston Grier’s Daughter and Nanny Visit the Set
Based on the photos obtained byThe Babbler,Kingston Grieris getting mighty close to his new nanny. Could she be taking care of more than his daughter?
Stay tuned…
Below the salacious copy was photo after photo of me and Zoe being escorted to Kingston’s trailer. All of them had Zoe’s face blurred, but mine wasn’t. Picture after picture showed me ducking out of a fancy town car, me smiling down at the blurred toddler in my arms, me walking with Zoe on my hip.
The last photo was one of Kingston holding Zoe but with his arm seemingly wrapped around me.
It wasn’t.
He’d actually been trying to take the diaper bag off my shoulder.
But it didn’t look like that in the photo.
In the picture, we looked like a happy family.
Aside from that one late-night conversation about getting over exes and the phone call to arrange our first set visit, I don’t think we’d said much more than vague pleasantries to each other. He left for work before I was up and was home after I was in bed. Aside from our hand-offs at his trailer I never really spoke to him.
In another life, I’d been inches away from this picture being my reality with another man. Me, him, and our baby. That should’ve been us. Could’ve been us.
But that wasn’t ever happening.
Would never happen.
No more men.
