Leo sits and rummages through his toy box, distracted and somewhat uninterested in the woman, which is unusual for him since he’s usually pretty outgoing. He’s a hellof a talker. But this woman hasn’t looked at him once the entire twenty minutes she’s been here, so I suppose my son has taken that as a sign to leave her alone.
Ava King—she seemed nice on paper. Loves animals. Enjoys hiking and reading. Has a few younger siblings she’s used to taking care of. But looking at her now, with her done-up hair, flirtatious eyes and breasts spilling out of herverylow-cut, plunge top, I’m starting to think her resume wasn’t a great reflection of who she actually is.
I had a background check done on her after Coach Darrell interviewed her, and we’ve spoken a few times on the phone, as well as a video call, but her energy has completely changed. It’s almost like I’m talking to a completely different person. Still, I’m trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Emphasis ontrying.
Because it’s not working.
I hate the way she’s eye-fucking me.
“Like it said on my application, I’m a pretty great cook, so don’t worry about fixing yourself any dinner. I’ll have it ready for you when you get home.” Ava’s tone is too casual, as if she thinks this is what I want from her. As if this is what I hired her for.
I shake my head. “There’s no need. You’re caring for Leo, not me. I won’t need anything from you once I return from training. Besides, my sister is coming over, and she’ll probably get here before I’m back, so you can leave Leowith her.” Pausing, I add a “Thank you,” for good measure.
My voice is strong, but I make sure to lace it with a somewhat pleasant tone. However, judging by the way Ava’s face drops, I don’t do a very good job.
Not that I care much. She’s too forward, and it’s rubbing me the wrong way. I don’t want her to think that anything could happen between us.
“Oh, right, well…” Ava’s eyebrows pinch, and her shoulders sag. “Next time.”
Yeah, not a chance.
When it comes to my son, I won’t settle. I haven’t yet come across someone who actually cares for Leo. Someone who has his best interests at heart. Someone who wants the job because they love kids, not because of whoIam.
Most want to stay past their welcome after I return from a game or practice. It always ends with me having to politely thank them for their time and ask them to leave.
One nanny even called him ‘Liam’ in front of me and didn’t blink twice about it. She wasn’t focusing on my son, instead, ogling me while Leo was busy entertaining himself with the laces of her perfectly pristine shoes—the most entertainment he’d probably had all day.
She never got a call back. But then again, not many of them do.
I’m debating asking Ava to go home. To not worry about caring for Leo, but Darrell will roast my head on a spit if I don’t give another one of his nannies a chance. He’smade it very clear that I can’t continue to bring my son to practice without someone to look after him. He loves spending time with him, but he also has a job to do, and he can’t do that if we are both distracted.
“Daddy, he’s still not here,” Leo complains loudly as his bottom lip wobbles, padding over to me, bare feet slapping against the wood.
I crouch down to his level and open my arms, inviting him in. I know exactly what he’s talking about—his stuffed Donkey, which he hasn’t been able to find for the past three days.
My son’s eyes fill with tears, but like the brave boy he is, he blinks them away and takes a deep breath, just like I taught him when he finds himself getting overwhelmed.
“He’ll show up soon, okay, buddy? I promise you. And if he doesn’t, I’ll go out and search for him. I bet he’s just gone on vacation.”
Ava takes a step towards us, cocking her head and flattening her glossy lips in—what she believes is—a comforting smile. She places a hand on my son’s shoulder, and I absolutely hate it. “You can look for him while your dad is working. We don’t want him to be late for training, right?” She shoots me a wink, and I stare blankly, unfazed.
What Ava doesn’t know is that I’d happily skip training to help my son find his beloved Donkey. But that’s not in the question today.
“If you don’t find him while I’m gone, I’ll make some missing Donkey posters, and we can put them up aroundthe city. Make sure you look everywhere.” I boop Leo’s button nose before planting a kiss on his head. “Behave for me, alright?”
“Will I get cookies?”
“Not how it works, sorry, bud. Nice try, though.”
If there’s one thing Leo definitely didn’t pick up from me, it’s his sweet tooth. I prefer bitterness—it’s why black coffee is my vice. Sweet is just too overwhelming, too intense. Too much sweetness makes you sick, and that applies to all aspects of life.
Food.
Drink.
People.
