“Ray,” Anika growls, her frustration clear.
“I am so sorry. Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” Wynter rushes out, her words tumbling over each other. “It didn’t say in the ad . . . I didn’t—”
“This isn’t going to work,” I cut in coldly. “I’ll show you out.”
“Ray.” Anika’s voice sharpens. I grit my teeth and turn to her. “Just stop,” she says, low and firm. Then, softer, “Wynter, please don’t apologise. It’s fine. I’m not offended at all. Let’s start again.”
“If she can’t even tell by looking at you, what’s the point?” I bite out. “She clearly has no experience.”
“I’m lying in a bed, Ray,” Anika shoots back. “How is she supposed to know? Or are you saying I look disabled?”
“Don’t twist my words.”
“Catherine will show her everything she needs to know.”
“Maybe he’s right,” Wynter murmurs.
We both look at her. Her gaze is fixed on the floor, fingers twisting together, shoulders curling in on themselves like she’s trying to disappear.
Christ. She needs to go. I can’t have her here. Not when my first instinct was to taste her, and now, now I just want to hold her and apologise for being an arse.
“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, “she’s going to cry in a minute.”
Like I’ve summoned it, she covers her face, her shoulders starting to shake. I roll my eyes.
“Now, look what you’ve done,” Anika hisses. “Go and get her a drink.”
I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair before turning away. “Fine.” I stomp out of the room.
Catherine arches a brow the moment I step into the kitchen, tension still rolling off me.
“She’s a timid little mouse,” I mutter. “I need someone who’ll actually push back.”
Catherine doesn’t even flinch. “You seem to think this is about you,” she says calmly.
I grit my teeth, bracing for the lecture disguised as kind words.
“Anika needs someone she feels comfortable with,” she continues. “This person will be handling her most personal care. She needs to feel safe. She needs to trust them.” Her gaze sharpens slightly. “And right now, Ray, you’re scaring them off because they don’t stand up to you.”
I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.
“You’ve already chased away ten candidates,” she adds. “And you’re running out of time.”
“Why do you have to retire?” I snap.
Her expression softens, and she pats my hand like I’m ten years old again. “Because my husband would quite like his wife back.”
I huff. “He’s selfish.”
A small smile tugs at her lips.
WYNTER
“I’m sorry,” I rush out, dabbing at my eyes with a tissue. “I don’t usually cry. It’s just . . . the last few months have been really tough. I don’t know what’s come over me.” Heat floods my cheeks, embarrassment curling tight in my chest.
Anika smiles kindly, and some of the tension in my shoulder’s eases. Ray is far too intense for me. I already know I could never work here. Maybe that’s why I’m crying. Another job gone before it’s even begun.
“Take a seat,” she says gently.
