I take an obvious look around the place, craning my neck around him to stare at every inch of the pristine apartment we’re standing in.
Mateo Martinez is clearly skilled on the baseball field, but I have a hard time imagining him wiping Windex on all these floor-to-ceiling windows by himself.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he continues. “My cleaning team comes twice a week while the apartment is empty. My chef cooks my meals and stores them in the refrigerator for me while I’m at practice, and any other household errands are taken care of by the downstairs concierge.” He runs a hand through his hair, making his T-shirt sleeve stretch around his bicep in a way that should be deemed sexually inappropriate. “I’ve tried the live-in nanny gig twice already. First guy used my kitchen like an all-you-can-eat buffet while lounging around in his adult-size onesie. An adult-size onesie, by the way, should not be considered appropriate sleepwear, at least not in my home. And the second nanny made a mess of this place. She was chaos incarnate, keen on baking goods that were barely edible, all while almost burning down my kitchen. A kitchen that was built to withstand more than most, yet a batch of sprinkle cookies almost had us condemned.” He sighs. “And these are the candidates that were sent to me by an agency that has a very high fee for vetting people for these kinds of placements. So believe me when I say that I’d prefer to decline going through this experience for the third time now.”
Valid points.
But not in my favor, so I ignore and pivot.
I take a large step back, hoping my wits will follow and start making my way over to my dream couch. A large U shape that looks like a cloud, perfect for reading on my Kindle or an afternoon nap. I slowly lower myself onto it and bite back a moan once the cushions envelop me, welcoming me as one of their own. “Look, I get it. Not wanting to havestaffaround. But it’s me, Isabella. We’re practically family.” I lean back and put my bare feet on the coffee table.
“Feet down,” he demands.
I bolt back up and stand. “Okay, yeah, totally. I took it too far there. My bad.” I nervously rub my sweaty hands up and down the front of my jeans as I feel my cheeks blush ferociously at the tone he just took with me. And the fact that it made me feelthingsI shouldn’t at a time like this.
I’ll unpack that another time. Like the day after never.
He moves to stand in front of a massive built-in TV above the fireplace while facing me, hands on his hips. “When I said I don’t want to live with others, I meant that when I get home, it’s usually only Anna and me. Sometimes my mother if it’s late and Anna bribes her into staying over. But inside these walls is where I have some peace. A place where I don’t need to smile and nod or worry that I’m not giving someone the best Mateo Martinez experience. Here, I get to be myself. And unfortunately, I don’t think I could give that up,” he offers softly.
His unexpected vulnerability has me wavering.
And dammit, he’s right. A man like Mateo has his movements tracked every second of the day. As soon as he steps out of his home, he’s surrounded by people who want something from him. Or worse, people who want to get their fifteen minutes of fame by getting him to break from his picture-perfect persona. It’s never actually happened, but I’ve seen enough people on the street heckle him on social media, complaining about a game loss or yelling lewd comments.
I can only imagine that makes him even more protective of his home life and his mental well-being. And while I cannot put myself in his exact shoes, I know firsthand how important it is to have a safe place to call home, especially when you need it the most.
I clear my throat and take a step forward, the coffee table standing guard between us. “Listen, I get it. I have no idea the pressure you are under, but I know a thing or two about having all eyes on me.”
Realization sets in his gaze, and he wipes a hand over his bearded jaw. “Fuck, Isa. I’m sorry. I knew about—I didn’t mean—”
I put my hand up to silence him. “I’m not asking for your pity, Mateo. That’s not why I brought it up. I’m simply here to say that I understand. And if it means me hiding out in the guest room when I’m not needed, to respect your boundaries and desire for peace, then I promise you it’s a better setup than what I currently have going on.” His face looks pained, like it physically hurts him to have to turn me down. But if I’m going to walk out of here without the job, I need to make sure I put it all out there. That way I’m not banging my head against the tiled wall while I replay this conversation, acting out all the things I should have said. “I need this job. I need a place to stay. Not because I don’t currently have those things, but because today, for the first time in a long time, I told myself I deserve better. I deserve more. And who knows, maybe tonight, I’ll laugh it off while I go to bed and go back to thinking that I’m right where I deserve to be due to my past, but not right now.” I steel my spine, because this is the part where I usually get the condescending smiles. “Right now, I can tell you that I have hopes to be more. To become a respected book cover designer. I’ve always loved creating, and paired with my love of reading, it has become a new passion of mine. And I know it may sound silly—”
“It doesn’t. Not to me,” he interrupts.
I nod in agreement, because I’m on a roll, and partially because I can’t let myself get sucked in by the intensity of his sincerity. “Exactly. And this job would be the perfect environment for me to grow my brand and focus on my craft. While Anna is in school, of course,” I quickly add, since I don’t want him to think that I haven’t factored in my actual job duties. “Because while she’s with me, she will be my number one priority. I will go above and beyond for her. I promise you that.” I release a deep breath as my arms fall to my sides. As if to saythat’s all she’s got, folks. Take it or leave it.
Preferably take it, of course.
His eyes bore into mine, as if he’s trying to work out a problem he can’t find the solution to, yet hoping I somehow have the answer.
After a few torturous moments of silence, he shakes his head and laughs humorlessly.
His voice comes out gravelly. “Isabella… go home.”
My last bit of hope leaves my body, and it takes everything in me not to show how utterly crushed I am by his words. I tuck a loose curl that must have escaped the confines of my ponytail while I delivered my meek monologue, then I start my way out of the U-shaped couch, which means I have to walk right past him in order to get to the elevator and leave.
I keep my head down, because I’m too embarrassed to look him in the eye after I laid my woes out there for him to see.
Just as we’re shoulder to shoulder, his hand shoots out and softly wraps around my wrist. A small gasp leaves my mouth as I stare up into his molten gaze.
“I wasn’t finished.” His thumb gently caresses the inside of my wrist as he says, “Go homeand pack. Then come right back to me… I mean here. And come right backhere.” He clears his throat and gives his head a slight shake. “I’m giving you a one-week trial. If this arrangement works for the both of us, then I’ll send for the rest of your stuff.”
My eyes widen as my brain catches on to his words. “So, I got the job?” I whisper, afraid that he may come to his senses if I speak too loudly.
“One week, Isabella. That’s all I’m promising for now.” He looks down at his gentle hold on me and slowly releases my wrist.
“I-I promise I won’t let you down.” I cough and laugh at the same time. I didn’t know his touch would wreak havoc on my nervous system, so I quickly back up toward the foyer and put on my sandals. Because I know I’m probably one inappropriate joke away from changing his mind. “I promise, Mateo.” I laugh nervously as I walk into the elevator and press the button for the lobby. He stands on the other side of the open elevator doors, watching. “And hey, you can even use athree strikes and you’re outrule with me. Ya know,strikeout, to keep it on brand with your baseball world and all.”
I’m met with silence and an unflinching stare.
