Page 18 of Griffin

“Hey,” I say, reaching for him. “I lovethis.”

Dad gives me a warm smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You deserve more, that’s all. Maybe this can help you get experience if you want to go for your dream job. A nanny in a big city, right?”

My heart aches. My dad gave me everything, and he still feels like I’m unhappy.

There’s a part of me that wants to go to a big city and be a nanny to the wealthy, but I love this town.

I sigh, and Dad grins at me.

“Hopefully, you can cheer Griffin up. He’s being a miserable bastard.”

I can’t hide the snort of laughter at Dad’s comment and relax back into my chair.

“I’m off to work. Have a good day off.”

Nerves twist in my stomach as I turn to my Dad, calling out his name.

“Ask Griffin if I can pick Melody up from school today,” I say, butterflies erupting in my stomach when he nods.

“Sure thing. You’re a great girl, Ivy. I’m so proud of you.”

I smile so hard my cheeks ache.

I spend the rest of the day cleaning the house from top to bottom, getting through the piles of laundry slowly but surely.

I love my days off.

I open the windows and try to get some air into the house, but it’s so humid and warm it’s a pointless exercise. I make a chicken salad for dinner and pop Dad’s in the fridge for when he returns home, along with some beers. I tug down the blinds to try to keep the place cool.

My phone rings and my heart leaps when I see it’s Griffin.

He’s never called me, but I’ve called him plenty of times, usually asking for my dad.

“Ivy.”

Griffin’s gruff voice sends shivers down my spine, but I push my desire away. It’s inappropriate, considering I’m about to be his grieving daughter’s new nanny.

“Hey, Griffin.”

There’s a pause, and I hear banging in the background. He’s at work, of course.

“Uh, your dad said you want to help in the afternoons too? Starting today?”

I can imagine him scratching his neck, glancing around him awkwardly. Griffin is proud and doesn’t like to ask for anything.

But I want to help.

“Yes!” I say, twisting the phone to my ear while I make a drink. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Griffin says softly. “Are you sure? Melody isn’t like other kids … and she’s just lost her mother.”

My heart feels like it’s being crushed.

Poor Melody.

“Look, Griffin, I want to help. In any way I can. I think Melody is wonderful.”