How was I supposed to know he would take my stupid three-strike rule suggestion seriously?
He barely takesmeseriously.
I check the time on my phone and decide to make a quick exit from my room before I earn myself a second strike for being late. I grab a brand-new ChapStick from the vanity before I leave, knowing that there are certain simple pleasures in life that are priceless. Like the feeling of opening a brand-new ChapStick and breaking that rigid, circular, smooth… wait.
Did I just make that sound like I’m about to blow my cheap lip-care instrument? Jesus Christ, I need to make sure I don’t fall asleep while reading a super spicy why-choose romance again. Clearly, my libido has been all over the place lately, and I’m guessing a broody, sexy baseball player isn’t helping.
I walk into the living room right as Anna jumps into her father’s arms for a goodbye hug. Mateo leaves today for an away game, so he’ll be gone for two nights. I’m hoping those two Mateo-free days bring me a few steps closer to securing this job after the one-week mark, as well as give him short-term amnesia about my whole three-strike system.
Once I got back to the apartment after dropping Anna off yesterday, I was amazed at how much I could accomplish with a whole day to focus on my cover-design business.
I mean, yes. I did spend a good chunk of the morning replaying my interaction with Mateo. And maybe I read a few too many chapters of the romantic suspense that released hours before, but all in all, I was productive.
Which reminds me of the stakes here if I manage to keep this job. I can network with fellow content creators and even indie authors in the morning and further develop my portfolio by designing preset romance covers during the early afternoon.
And let’s not forget about the pay. I’m not exactly sure how much my salary would be since I’m still on this one-week probationary period. But if it’s comparable to what he’s paying me for this week, then I’ll be making more than all the finance bros on Wall Street.
Or at least feel like I am, since my previous jobs barely paid above minimum wage.
Plus, let’s be honest, can it really be called a job when I’m hanging with a kid as smart and witty as Anna?
Last night, I found myself calculating how far I could push her bedtime so we could continue to watch concert footage of our favorite artist on TikTok.
Concerning, since I should have probably ended my disappearing act and responded to the unanswered calls and texts from friends my own age, but fun, nonetheless.
“Good morning,” I greet cheerfully. “Are we ready to go…”
“Cinderella,” Anna supplies.
We’ve been playing this game since I met her. She likes to pretend she’s a different Disney princess each day. I play along and sometimes assign myself a character as well.
“Ah, of course, Cinderella. Your chariot awaits.” I bow dramatically while waving to the elevator.
She giggles loudly. I swear someone should figure out a way to bottle up her little laughs. They’re the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard. They make me feel like, if I live in the same world as Anna’s joy, then it can’t be all that bad.
“Almost ready. Gimme a second.” She turns to her dad. “Don’t leave yet. I need to go get it,” she says before she takes off like a freight train up the stairs and toward her bedroom.
I know the full layout of the place now, thanks to Mateo calling me last night to check in on Anna and asking her to give me an apartment tour since he was running late. I actually much preferred her showing me around since a five-year-old’s commentary can’t be beat.
The only downside was that Anna wasverythorough in her tour. Therefore walking me through every nook and cranny of Mateo’s bedroom, something I’m certain he would have left out had he given me the tour himself. Which means I now know that he sleeps on silky navy sheets and under a thick gray comforter. And that his impeccably organized closet is the size of my parents’ entire apartment. And his shower was probablybuilt with orgies in mind, because seriously, what is one person supposed to do with that many shower heads?
I quickly try to wipe away the memory as Mateo comes to stand next to me. It’s hard enough to look him in the eye on a good day, much less if I start imagining him with bed head.
“She’ll be down in a minute. She’s getting a… thing for me.”
I quickly tell myself it’s none of my business if he didn’t immediately offer up what “thing” meant, but then I remember who I am and ask him anyway. “Thing?”
His soft smile catches me off guard. “When she was a baby and old enough to crawl, she started putting a toy in my away bag. I remember the first time she did it when I left her with my mom while I was a thousand miles away. The first year of her life, I took her on every trip, but she was sick that time, so I thought it’d be best for her to stay behind with my mother. I was miserable. Hated that she wasn’t feeling well, that I was too far away to console her, and that she was too young to understand why I was gone. But then”—his smile widens at the memory— “I opened my away bag, and right on top of my spare jersey was her teething toy. I swear I believed that thing had magical powers, because it took me out of my funk, and I ended up playing one of the best games of my career. So, naturally, like any respectable—and superstitious—baseball player, I started bringing it with me to every away game. We didn’t always win, of course, but it made me feel closer to Anna while I was gone.”
“That’s very sweet.”
He looks at me then, and for this brief moment, I know it in my bones that I’m getting the real Mateo. The one the public has no access to. The version of him that isn’t seen by many. “Last year, she asked me why I traveled with a teething giraffe toy, and I told her the truth. Now she likes to choose a random toy and hide it in my away bag for me to find while I’m gone. Sometimes it’s a doll. Other times a random piece of a toy set I don’t evenrecognize. But I love how much fun she has with it. How it takes her mind off me leaving and instead allows her to focus on me finding whatever she’s hidden within my stuff.” He nods toward a black duffel bag by the foyer table. “I even had to upgrade my bag to something with more zippers and compartments, since my previous one didn’t make it hard enough for me to find her surprise.”
“According to Anna, I assume.” I bite down on a smile.
“Of course. Anything for my girl.” His eyes smile back at me, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.
It suddenly hits me then, as his eyes hold me hostage.
