Page 7 of Slow Burn


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“Maybe one day,” I said with a wistful smile. I tried hiding my melancholy, but I could tell by the way Myra’s eyes hardened she hadn’t missed it. And for some reason, it made her angrier than a million hornets whose nest had been kicked.

She stormed around the table, riffling through her purse for a few seconds before coming out with a pen and what looked like a crumpled receipt. She scribbled something down in fast, slashing movements before thrusting her arm out in my direction.

I hesitated for a moment before taking it. I’d only ever seen Myra calm and happy. This was a whole new side of her, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I looked down, my forehead wrinkling in confusion at what she’d written down.

“What’s this?”

“That is the address to your job interview Monday morning at nine o’clock.” At that, my head shot up, but before I could get a word out, she carried on. “That man is looking for a full-time, live-in nanny for a sweet, mild mannered two-year-old boy.”

“Oh, Myra. I don’t think—” I started, refusing to let hope bloom inside me.

“You’d be absolutely perfect for the job; there isn’t a doubt in my mind. As soon as you leave here, I’ll be putting in a call myself to set up your interview. Monday morning, nine o’clock. You make whatever excuse you need to make to get yourself down that mountain.”

I swallowed thickly, the saliva in my mouth having all but dried up. “And the phone number you wrote down?”

“Well that there is mine.” She rounded on me once more, taking my hands in both of hers and curling my fingers around the tiny slip of paper. Her expression grew solemn as she held my hands tightly. “If you need anything, Deva, anything at all, night or day, you use that number.” She patted my hand in a gesture that felt strongly maternal and made my eyes begin to burn. I couldn’t help but wonder, if my mother were still alive, would she pat my hands the way Myra did, or hug me tightly whenever the opportunity arose?

My heart began to beat staccato in my chest. My blood felt like it was rushing with all the strength of whitewater rapids in my veins. A thrill raced through me, exhilaration mixed with absolute fear. A tiny voice in the back of my head was screaming that this couldn’t possibly be worth it, that the risks far outweighed the rewards, whatever those might be. But thatniggling of hope was back, spreading through my chest like vines wrapping themselves around everything they touched.

This could be it, a second voice said, this one much louder than the negative one.This could be your chance to get out of that house and actually live the kind of life you want.

That realization was all it took to strengthen my resolve. My spine straightened and my shoulders squared. I refused to even consider this could all be for nothing. After all, I couldn’t know that for sure unless I tried, right?

Chapter

Three

LAETH

“And why doyou feel you’re well qualified for the position as a live-in nanny?”

That question came from Lark, who, after I did all but crawl on my hands and knees while begging, agreed to help me with the interview process to find a nanny for Cash.

It had been a month.A month! And I was still no closer to finding someone for the job than I’d been when Lark had assured me this whole process would take no time at all.

I lost count of how many applicants we’d spoken to and had reached the point where I was sitting back, fighting an impending migraine, while the women in my life handled the gritty details.

I let out a sigh and rubbed at my temples as I waited for the woman sitting across from our rag-tag group to answer.

There were several reasons why no one we’d interviewed so far had fit the bill. There were those who were completely unqualified, simply looking for some fast cash and a place to sleep. Others might have had experience with childcare but were far too strict for a two-year-old who had more walls up than Fort Knox had security. Then there were the ones who weretoo intimidated sitting in a room with men the likes of me, Gage, Jensen, and Willow’s man, Stone. We weren’t exactly the harmless, unassuming accountant types. Between our size, the tattoos, and more than colorful language, we weren’t the type of men who’d be invited to your after-church bridge club, and some people just couldn’t handle that.

But the biggest reason so far as to why it had been damn near impossible to find good help was all my damn fault. And by the way the woman in the hot seat was staring at me instead of paying attention to the questions Lark and Shane were asking, I knew this interview was a bust.

“You don’t even recognize me, do you?” she asked, her stare turning into a glower that never left my face.

“Fucking hell,” Gage grunted, leaning back in his chair and scrubbing at his face. “Not again.”

Stone tried covering his laugh with a snort that didn’t fool anyone. Shane threw her hands up in exasperation, and Lark’s expression grew weary. Every single person in the room knew what that question meant, considering they’d already heard about a million different versions of it in the past month.

I didn’t trust myself to make a decision as important as this one by myself, so I had everyone I cared about in on the interview process, and I was beginning to think it was going to come back and bite me in the ass.

I sat up straight, gearing up for the ass-ripping I was about to receive.

“Bad Alibi?” she said, talking about Redemption’s most popular watering hole. “About eight months ago?” She let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. “You know, I thought coming here would be my chance to confront you for never calling me back, but I can’tbelieveyou don’t recognize me! God, you’re such a shithead!”

Before I could get a word in edgewise, she shot to her feet and stormed out of my office. If she’d have been able to slam the heavy glass doors that lead in and out of Elite Security’s building, I was sure she would have just to make a point.

Lark’s best friend, Aurora, who happened to be one of my closest friends as well, sent a withering glare in my direction that was so intense, it made my balls shrivel up. “You know, your inability to keep your dick in your pants is making this whole process a lot freaking harder than it needs to be.”

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