She waves dismissively. “Please. Now he knows you’re interested. And did you see the way he looked at you?” She leans forward, eyes bright with mischief. “Plus, if he’s as hesitant about dating as you say, you need to be more obvious. Subtle isn’t going to cut it. Especially since he doesn’t know that you won’t get fired if you date him. Or maybe he’s worried about what it would mean for his daughter.”
I trace the rim of my wine glass, thinking about Chloe. About how much I genuinely adore that kid, independent of any feelings for her father. “Yeah, that’s a thing, but I’ll only be her teacher for the rest of this school year. After that, she moves on with a different teacher.”
“Wow.” Sophie sits back, eyes widening. “You’re planning for the long haul here. Should I start shopping for your something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue already?”
I roll my eyes. “You are ridiculous. No. I’m just saying, Chloe is genuinely one of my favorites in class. She’s a really special kid.”
“I remember. You mentioned her way before you ever met him.” She picks up her Manhattan, swirling the ice. “The one who wants to be a NASCAR driver and marine biologist at the same time?”
“Formula 1 driver,” I correct automatically. “She says there’s a big difference, and she’s very passionate about it. But yeah, she’s sweet and smart and so curious about everything.” I pause. “And I’m not trying to replace her mom or anything. I’m just saying I love kids and have always wanted a family. You know that.”
Sophie nods, her expression softening. “I do know that.”
And it’s true. I’ve always been ambitious—I graduated college several years early, worked hard to build independence, left my family’s company to start fresh somewhere new. But at the same time, I’ve wanted a family for as long as I can remember. I was the kid who volunteered to babysit every chance I got, who spent summers as a camp counselor, who chose elementary education because I wanted to be around kids every single day. The career ambition and the desire for a family have always existed side by side for me, neither one less important than the other.
“Anyway,” I continue, “a single parent isn’t a deal breaker for me. Far from it. The fact that he’s such a good dad makes him more attractive.”
Sophie raises her glass. “To Emma Hayes, who never backs down from a challenge.”
I clink my glass against hers, and the sound feels like a starting gun.
It’s Sunday afternoon in my apartment, and I’m supposed to be lesson planning. Sophie left for Seattle this morning, and I have a stack of worksheets spread across my bed that need attention before Monday. But my mind keeps drifting back to Theo.
I’d half hoped he’d make it easy on me and reach out after Friday night, but my phone has stayed stubbornly silent. Which means if I want something to happen, I have to make the first move.
I look around the studio, taking stock. The place really is in great shape. Everything is updated and well-maintained, with no issues to speak of. The windows open and close fine. The bathroom faucet doesn’t leak. Radiators work perfectly. It’s the kind of rental where you can go months without needing to contact your landlord, which is the problem.
Wait.The cabinet.
The one next to the stove that sticks slightly when you open it. I noticed it my first week here, made a mental note and then forgot about it because it’s barely even an inconvenience. You just have to pull a little harder. I walk over to it and crouch down to examine the hinge. It’s a simple fix—probably just needs to be tightened. I pull the door open and closed a few times, testing the resistance. It opens just fine enough, but there’s a small creak coming from the top hinge.
Perfect.
Nowthat’ssomething I can call a landlord about.
CHAPTER 5
Theo
I pull into the lot behind the building just after four, toolbox on the passenger seat and Chloe safely deposited at her art class across town. She’s spending the next hour and a half learning watercolor techniques from Mrs. Lowrey, which gives me plenty of time to handle the cabinet situation Emma called me about and still pick her up before the dinner rush starts at the restaurant.
Normally tenants go through Danny for stuff like this, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased to hear Emma’s voice on the other end of the line when she called about the hinge. I jumped at the chance to help a little too quickly, said yes before she’d even finished explaining the problem.
I get out of the car with my toolbox and head for the side entrance, taking the stairs up to the second floor. I knock on the door and footsteps approach from inside almost immediately.
The door swings open and Emma appears, her face breaking into a smile that hits me somewhere in my chest. Her red hair is up in a ponytail and she’s wearing shorts so short they’re practically nonexistent, paired with a thin white t-shirt that leavesvery little to the imagination. I can see the outline of her nipples through the fabric and every intelligent thought evacuates my brain.
I drag my eyes back up to her face, trying to ignore the fact that my body just woke up in a way it absolutely shouldn’t around my daughter’s teacher. A very young teacher at that.
“Theo, hey! Thanks so much for coming by.” She steps back to let me in. “I really appreciate it. I know you’re probably busy.”
“No problem.” I clear my throat. “Happy to help. Which cabinet is it?”
“It’s the one over here by the stove.” She walks ahead of me into the kitchen, and I keep my eyes up, focused on the back of her head and definitely not on those shorts or her legs or anywhere below her shoulders.
I force myself to look around the room instead. The studio is completely transformed now. Plants line the windowsill and dresser, more than I would have expected from someone who just moved. There’s a bright throw blanket tossed over a reading chair, colorful pillows on the bed, framed prints on the walls, a basket of yarn with knitting needles sticking out beside the chair. Books are stacked everywhere—nightstand, floor, kitchen counter. The whole place has this energy to it now, warm and vibrant and lived-in.
It feels strangely personal seeing her space like this, like I get to see a tiny glimpse into her world and I find myself wanting to slip into it and stay there.
