I curse internally. No, I’m not fucking sure. I don’t want anyone who isn’t family, or a close friend near my little girl, if I can help it. But what choice do I have?
“It’s fine,” I grit, pinching my brow.
We talk about a few business things before I end the call and march across the hallway.
I take a deep breath and open the door.
Molly’s cooing about something being ‘pretty’. But the sight of her is blocked by Tate’s back. She’s sitting back on her heels on the floor. The position makes the back zipper of her pencil skirt stretch over her ass.
Tate turns at the sound of the door opening and catches my eyes on her.
“Is it cocoa? Do I have more on me?” Her eyes widen, and she brushes her ass, twisting her head over her shoulder to try and see.
“I have a business proposition for you.”
She halts her self-examination and gapes at me. “What?”
“Pardon,” I correct. Jesus, I want my daughter to have manners. Perhaps I need to have a conversation with MissMiller about the language I deem unsuitable for use while she’s in my daughter’s company.
“It will be short term,” I say, knowing the moment Arabella is back, I’ll be happy to return to prior arrangements. “A few hours on occasion while I work, and my daughter isn’t with family. And I’ll pay you extra for a level of flexibility.”
Her blue eyes remain wide, and I stop myself from telling her to close her mouth.
“You’ll be looking after Molly,” I confirm, partly because I need to spell it out from the puzzled look on her face, and partly because I’m playing dirty, knowing that if my daughter enters negotiations with me, then Tate will be less inclined to turn down my offer.
“Yay!” Molly squeals.
Tate glances at her, and the way her eyes soften upon contact with my daughter, fills me with equal parts protectiveness and tenderness.
“Um…” Tate’s brow creases as Molly looks at her with pleading eyes. “Just a sec, Molly.” She smiles at her.
She gets up from the floor and walks over to me, lowering her voice. “I thought you said Molly wasn’t good with new people.”
“When did I say that?”
She blinks, her brow scrunching up. “Earlier. To that woman in the workout gear who wanted to have lunch with you.”
I place my hands on my hips and breathe in slowly through my nose to hold back a flare of temper. “My daughter has already demonstrated that she likes you.”
Tate’s gaze wanders back to Molly. “I like her too, but?—”
“And listening to my personal conversations will not be a part of your job description.”
Her gaze snaps back to mine.
“Therefore”—I arch a brow—“upon hiring you, I’d expect no questions about my dating life.”
“Of c-course,” she splutters.
“Good.” I attempt a smile, but the way she looks more flustered makes me think it’s coming out as a grimace. “Then, you’re hired. You can start tomorrow evening.”
Her brows shoot up, and for a couple of seconds, she just stares at me.
“I need to think about it,” she says after a pause.
My boardroom face comes into play as I successfully hide my shock and irritation. I don’t have time to wait for other people tothinkabout things.
“Of course,” I reply smoothly. I pluck a business card from my inner jacket pocket and hold it out to her. “Call me when you’ve decided, and assuming the position is still available, then it’s yours.”
