Hell, he really did wonder. Sadie was adamant about maintaining a professional demeanor at all times. What was she about to say about him letting his next-door neighbor take calls?
“Well, she was a little surprised when I answered,” Mickie said. She smiled, as if recalling a private joke. “But I explained. She said I had a great phone voice. Said to tell you it wasn’t urgent, she was just checking to see how you were doing. Oh, and to call her back at your convenience.”
“Thanks.”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled. A real smile. A pleased-with-herself smile. It lit up her eyes like sunshine glinting off glacier ice. Something in him warmed at the sincerity in that smile. He couldn’t look away from it. Didn’t want to look away. Anything to keep that warmth spreading like a balm over aches he didn’t know he had.
“Mamamamama!”
Ian’s demand for attention doused the warmth with icy reality. She had a kid. A baby. She’d want a father for Ian. The one thing he was never going to be.
“Shhh, Ian. I know it’s time for lunch,” Mickie said. Her fingers were warm as she briefly touched his arm. “Thanks again for letting me use the washer and dryer.”
“Sure. No problem. Anytime.”
The words fell out of his mouth because his mind was churning. The touch, that smile. The kid. The old fears. And a completely preposterous idea was trying to surface. No. He tried to push it away, but it held its ground.
He needed a secretary. Mickie needed a job.
A tight huff of laughter tore from his throat. “Great idea, Josh,” he said aloud. Have her in here all day, every day? No. Just no.
An hour later, he’d returned all the phone calls, set up appointments to meet with the potential clients, redirected the applicants to the on-line application page and successfully managed to not call Sadie back. Mickie, however, stayed on his mind. One of the most important things the Cleaning Crew looked for in an employee was initiative. You see a problem or a need, you take care of it. Mickie had done just that. Plus, she knew she didn’t know enough about the business, so she limited herself to merely taking messages. Common sense.
Sure, common sense and initiative. And that hair he’d like to get his hands in. Those lips he’d like to taste. Eyes he’d like to drown in. And a kid. He stood and paced to the fridge. You need food. You are not thinking straight. You should be running as fast as you can. She and Ian deserve way better than the likes of you. Yet one phone call later, he was knocking on her back door.
“Is everything okay? I got you in trouble, didn’t I? I’m so sorry. I was just trying to help.” The words poured out of her the moment she opened the door.
“No. Wait. What?”
She put a hand over her heart. “You look so serious. I thought your boss was mad.”
“No. Um. That’s not why I came over,” he stammered. He took a deep breath. Get it over with. “Do you want a job?”
The play of emotions across her face brought back that feeling of warmth. A blink as she took in the words. Surprise as the meaning set in and a moment between the surprise and the huge smile that almost broke his heart. A moment of relief so immense that even he felt the weight of it lifting.
“Yes! Really? Are you serious?”
“Yes. I need office help. It’ll be cash under the table. Answer phones. Run the computer testing for the applicants. Stuff like that.”
“Yes. I can do that. Just show me what to do and I’ll do it.”
He smiled, unable to not return the joyous grin on her face. “Okay. Come on over around nine tomorrow and we’ll get you started.”
“Yes! I’ll be there.”
Then her arms were around him, squeezing tight. Her cheek pressed against him. Whoa, wow. Could she feel the way his heart jumped when she did that? Without consent from his brain, his hands slipped around her shoulders. She seemed so tiny, as if he could wrap his arms twice around her. He should step back. He should not be doing his. Instead, he dipped his head to take in the scent of her hair.
“You don’t know what this means to me,” she said as she pushed away.
His arms felt cold and empty without her there. He pushed the thought away. “I think I do,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”
He walked back to his apartment with a smile. That had felt good. Helping her. Remembering his own relief when Sadie had offered him a job after she’d found out he was fresh out of the foster-care system, he shook his head. He wouldn’t have hired himself back then. He’d been angry and stupid. But Sadie had seen something in him. And now he was just trying to pay it back.
* * *
MICKIE SPUN IN circles across the kitchen floor and scooped Ian out of his high chair. “Mommy has a job, baby man! A real job!”
She danced them around the kitchen to the tune of “Mommy’s got a job,” giddy with the release of the ever-constant worry. Thank God. Now she could focus on what she needed to do before school started in the fall.
“Everything is falling into place, Ian. Pretty soon, we’ll be sitting pretty. A new car. A house of our own. Everything.”
She put Ian back in his chair and sat across from him. “Got a lot to do this afternoon. Call the day care and see if I can get you in now instead of when school starts. Grocery store. I need to go through my clothes and find something to wear on a job.”
She began making a list. She loved lists. Their orderliness. The satisfaction of crossing off things done. As the emotional high of the sudden appearance of a job dissipated, she became aware of another feeling coursing quietly through her. It took a while to recognize it. Lust. Her long-lost sex drive decided to show up now? For her new boss? Not a good thing.
The spontaneous hug was something the old her would have done. The new Mickie wasn’t so touchy-feely. And yet... It had been like hugging a tree. Solid, hard muscle had met her arms. So, you hugged him. So what? You were happy. Surprised. It was a hug. And he’d hugged her back. The low-grade desire flared up like a sunspot. Hot. Bright. His hands hesitantly skimming across her shoulders. Even if she could rationalize that away, there was no explanation for the brush of his cheek against her hair.
The pen fell from her inattentive fingers and skittered off the table. She scrubbed her hands across her face. No. Just no. Don’t care how warm and squishy he makes you feel. Absolutely no men. She lifted her face to watch as Ian picked through his Cheerios. She could see enough of his father in him to always remember. He had his father’s dark curls and light brown eyes. She’d trained herself over the years to only see Ian, but now she needed the reminder. No men. Someday. When she would know...
“Stop it,” she hissed under her breath. She stood, her legs feeling wobbly from the sudden wave of memories. Too far. She deliberately took a deep breath and let it out in a slow stream. Her insides went cold and a humming filled her head. Turning, she made her way to the stove, where she reached up into the high cabinet and found a plastic vial. Letting the panic prickle along her nerves, she focused on breathing. Air in. Air out. You aren’t wasting a Xanax on this. Focus.
“Mama! Fins!”
“You sure did finish it all.” She put the pill bottle away and shut the cabinet. She crossed back to the table and lifted Ian from his chair, ignoring the close call. She’d not had a full-out panic attack in over a year. “How about a field trip, my little man? See if you can go play with some friends tomorrow?”
Hugging Ian tight and burying her face in his soft curls, she willed the tears back. What she really needed was her mother’s arms around her. She needed to talk to her. But that was something she never dared risk again, and that was that.
* * *
JOSH