The question was valid.Not to mention astute.
“You’re in greater need than she is,” I answered.“And to be honest, I don’t think I could convince anyone that I was attracted to her.I need someone I have a connection with.”
Clara’s expression turned doubtful.“You have to be kidding me.In the past few years there hasn’t been any other woman in your sphere that you’ve shacked up with?”
“I didn’t say ‘shack up with,’” I reminded her.“I said ‘connection.’Big difference.Can you list the number of peopleyou’ve connected with in the past few years?”
She opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it.“I’ve been busy.”
“So have I.Does that answer your question?”
She nibbled on her lip, questions clouding her gaze.But instead of probing further, she simply nodded.“Yeah.For now, I guess.”
Clara slipped out of the office without so much as a goodbye.
Had I just made the smartest move of my career…or the stupidest?
CHAPTER SIX
CLARA
I'd texted Nash my number as requested, keeping the message simple.
CLARA:It's Clara.Here's my number.
His response had been equally as brief.
NASH: Noted.Still thinking if part time will work for me.
That was it.Nothing else.No follow-up, no timeline, no indication of whether he was leaning toward yes or no.Just radio silence while I sat there checking my phone every five minutes like a lovesick teenager.
Time trudged by like rubber boots in quick sand.I tried to push it out of my mind and focus on reality.This arrangement with Nash might not pan out, which meant I couldn't afford to sit around waiting for a pipe dream.I needed to act.I needed to keep looking for a damn job.
So I spent every free moment job hunting, applying for anything that might pay better than minimum wage.Data entry.Administrative assistant positions.Retail management.Most were entry level and required hours that wouldn't work with Mia's schedule, but I kept trying.
By the second day, reality had fully set in.After zero response from Nash, I realized the sad truth: I'd probably talked myself out of a million dollar deal.Imagine that.A handsome, single billionaire shows up in my life, all but begging to give me any amount of money I wanted, and I somehow found a way to tank it.
I was probably the only idiot on the face of the planet who could manage that.
Doubts crowded my mind as I dropped Mia off at daycare the second morning after my meeting with Nash, watching her skip happily into her room.She made it onto the colorful rug, turned to me, and said, “Mommy!Wait!”
I watched from the doorway, where a half door was shut to prevent the little ones from escaping.“What is it, honey?”
“I made you something.”She skipped toward the wooden cubbies near the door as one of the daycare aides came over.
“Oh, Mia meant to take that home yesterday,” the aide said with a grin.“She was so excited to show you.”
Mia handed me a piece of pink construction paper.She’d drawn in green, red, and purple scribbles something resembling a house.
“This you.This me.”She pointed out each shapeless scribble area, then her finger drifted to the largest scribble on the page.“And this the castle we live in.”
My gaze washed over the drawing, emotion tightening in my chest.I loved this chapter of her childhood so much.The first picture she’d drawn for me still hung on our fridge, and each picture since was tucked away with care.They were all too precious—how could I throw any away?She’d graduate from high school with a mountain of saved drawings from her childhood, but I didn’t care.
“I love it so much.Thank you honey.”I kissed the top of her head before she skipped off again to join her classmates.Once I was back on the sidewalk outside, I looked at the drawing again, feeling a surge of conviction.When it came to Nash, I'd drawn the right line in the sand.Whatever financial struggles we faced, I wasn't going to put my daughter in questionable situations just for money.Even nearly-free money that came with bizarre stipulations.Mia was my priority, and I wasn’t going to expose her to any more heartbreak in this life than I already had.
After another full day of job hunting, praying, and occasionally cussing myself out for driving away the only good opportunity to show up at my former employer’s doorstep, my phone buzzed.
NASH:Email?
