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“Is Libby comfortable enough with her long sleeves?” I asked. I had dropped my voice significantly to make sure she didn’t hear me, though Neils still took a step forward and also lowered his voice in response.
“She’s not comfortable with the scars she has on her arms from the accident and surgeries,” he said. “I would say she’s more comfortable dealing with the heat and covering the scars than she would be letting the scars show and feeling cooler. It’s part of the reason she’s in the house so much. It’s a lot cooler here with the A/C, and she can be a lot more comfortable in her long sleeves. Like I said already, it’s not something I want you to be pushy about. Libby has been through a lot, and I need you to respect that.”
“I see,” I said. “Poor girl. Do you want me to try to get her more comfortable with the scars? I mean, I don’t want to do anything that will make her upset, but at the same time, I wish she wasn’t so self-conscious about it. It has to be hard for her to feel bad about them and have to live with them like that.”
“I don’t know yet,” he said. “It’s an incredibly sensitive topic, and I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. The reason I hired you was to be here and help her while I was busy working. I don’t want to push her to do things she doesn’t want to do while you’re here.”
“Of course,” I said with a nod. “I won’t say anything about it.”
He gave me a single nod before turning to go, closing the door behind him as he did.
It left me wondering why he had come into my room in the first place. He must have had some reason to want to talk to me, and I had a feeling it hadn’t had anything to do with Libby or her scars. Or even coming in to tell me to spend all his money, either. But perhaps the sight of me in my bra and shorts had been enough to make him forget about what he was going to say, and he just left before he had to admit that he had.
I smiled to myself as I turned back to my bag, pulling out another pair of shorts to put in the dresser. It would be nice to go out and get some new clothes, but I hoped I would be able to have some breakthroughs with Libby while I was here. I knew how it felt to live with someone who had been in the military, so perhaps she wasn’t as comfortable talking about some things with her father as she would be with me.
On the other hand, I didn’t want to overstep my bounds, and I didn’t want to say or do anything that would make her feel uncomfortable. More than anything, I wanted to have a good time here, and I wanted to share that with his little girl who had already been through so much. She clearly felt good around me, and I wasn’t going to say anything to change that. Not when we were off to such a good start.
I stayed in my room for the rest of the night, though I did open my door partially when I went to bed. I wanted Libby to know she could come in if she needed anything, and figured if the door was at least partially open, she would get that message if she was out in the hall.
But I woke in the middle of the night to the sound of crying. It wasn’t very muffled, and I worried Libby was having a nightmare.
I crept out of my room, going to check on her when I realized Neils was already in her room with her, lying on the bed and holding her as she sobbed. I chose not to go in and bother them, as he likely knew a lot more about how to handle this than I did.
But I did get a glimpse of her shoulders in the pale moonlight, and my jaw dropped.
The scars were long and deep, covering most of her arms from what I could see.
No wonder she wanted to keep them hidden.
Chapter Eleven
Neils
“Yes,Igottheadvance, but it’s going to be a few more days until I’m ready to send over the work,” I said.
“Will you have it by this weekend?” Jason, my publisher, asked. “I’m going to get in touch with the lead editor and let her know what’s going on, but I want to be accurate with my timeline.”
I sat back and quickly calculated how many days that would give me.
“I could give it back to you on Sunday,” I said.
“Saturday would be ideal, Friday would be perfect,” he replied.
I winced. Being Monday, that only gave me a few days to get all the work done. Normally, I would tell him it wouldn’t be a problem and commit to getting the work done. But it wasn’t that simple.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said. “Tell her Saturday. I’ll see if I can get it back on Friday.”
“Work your magic. I’d love to be able to get this going.”
“Me too.”
“I hope you hire someone to help you out with your kid soon. I do understand how hard it can be with the little ones running around, but trust me, get a bit of help, and it’s going to change your life.”
“I’m sure it’ll be soon,” I lied.
I almost told him I already had someone here helping me out with Libby, but I figured now would be the worst time to tell him that. The fact I now had help and was apparently going to be later than usual didn’t add up, and I knew it wasn’t going to fly with the publisher. Especially since I already had the money he’d fronted me for the book. But he also didn’t know what I was dealing with here.
Fuck. I didn’t even know what I was dealing with.
