“Are you okay?”
Sloan straightened, shoulders back, chin up as she turned her head. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
Matty shrugged. “You should seemymother when she gets going.”
Sloan smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, her jaw working as she tried to keep her composure. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“You know she—” Matty stopped.It really wasn’t her place, was it?“She’s just frustrated that she can’t do the things she used to.”
Sloan nodded. “I know. And thank you for what you’re doing with her.” This time the smile looked genuine. “She’s happier than she’s ever been, despite still being so...” She left it unsaid. Her eyes held Matty’s again. “I think what happened earlier, between us, should remain just…a moment.”
Matty’s brows rose. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, words tumbling and colliding in her mind. In the end, she settled for. “That’s fine.”
“I’m having a contract drawn up. Properly. Professionally.” Sloan’s demeanour changed into business mode. “It’s a solid package. I think you’d be foolish not to accept it.”
“I’ll definitely consider it,” Matty said, trying to match the cool exterior now being thrust in her direction, but her voice wavered and gave her away. She took a step towards Sloan, who instantly retreated. “We should maybe talk about—”
“I’ve said all I have to say on the matter.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll leave you to it then.” She turned to leave and stopped, her hand resting on the door, pausing long enough for Sloan to maybe change her mind, to say something that stopped her from walking away, but it didn’t come.
Every stair felt like a mile. When she reached the bottom, she straightened herself up and then re-entered the dining room. The two plates of half-eaten food remained where they were. Gloria sat silently, chewing.
“Sloan is going to—”
“Sulk?” Gloria said when she’d swallowed the mouthful. “Of course she is. Doesn’t like not getting her own way. Never has.”
“Actually, I think—”It wasn’t her place, was it?“So, I’ll see you at eight, then. Good night, Mrs S.”
***
Sloan silently crept out of her room and watched from the top of the stairs as Matty sat on a step and pulled on her skates.
She gripped the banister, the urge to run downstairs and take back what she’d said tightening her chest. Instead, she held still, obeying that old instinct to protect herself. From what, exactly, she was no longer certain.
Since Maggie, she hadn’t allowed herself to open up to anyone. And yet, here was this woman—someone so far from her type on paper. Sloan was drawn to elegance, sophistication, professional polish, and to a woman who knew how to take what she wanted and leave it at only one night.
Matty was different.
Sloan knew nothing about her—not even her last name—and it didn’t seem to matter. Had she been so desperate to find someone to look after her mother, she’d allowed a virtual stranger into the house? Or was there something else at play—something she wasn’t ready to admit?
Earlier, it’d been the first time anyone had been invited to dinner, by Gloria or Sloan, in a very long time. There’d been something there—the kiss, the brief hope of something more. And then she’d let the practicalities of her mother win out and put a stop to anything further. It was sensible, the right thing to do, and the least risky option. She knew all of that, but being practical and reasonable meant putting herself last, once again.
As Matty stood and put on her jacket, she glanced up. Sloan stepped back as she did, moving out of sight. She held her breath, waiting for Matty to call her out, but the silence remained.
There was the sound of wheels rolling, then the gentle click of the door opening, snagging, and finally closing.
And Matty was gone.
Slowly, Sloan turned and returned to her room. She’d deal with the dining room later. She needed to reset first.
She didn’t want to deal with her mother, either.
***
Changing clothes had given her a few more minutes’ respite. The soft fabric against her skin felt comforting. She peered into the dining room, seeing the table still covered with the plates, glasses, and uneaten food.
She cleared it methodically, scraping plates and stacking them, carrying everything through to the kitchen, whilst trying not to think about Matty’s lips against her own, and the way Matty’s hands had gripped her waist, anchoring her close, wanting her.
