Page 3 of Destiny

“Let me see.” She handed me the paper and read the next scenario out loud. “If Johnny has four apples, and Susy brings three times that amount, how many apples do they have together?”

“So . . .”

I look at her with suspicion. “What’s four times three?”

“Twelve.”

“Correct. Good job.”

I knew she could have solved that by herself, no problem, but sometimes I also wondered if they both just craved female attention since their mother left and everything. And if that was the reason why they sometimes wanted extra time with me helping them, I was happy to give it to them. Not to mention that I understood craving someone’s presence—but mine was for their father’s.

After doing a few more chores here and there, I started making dinner.

“Can I help?” Alessia soon asks.

“Is your homework done?”

“Mhm!”

“Then, of course!” She often liked helping me around the kitchen. On the other hand, Aurora was more of an artist and liked spending her free time on her drawings, which were incredibly detailed and accurate for a six-year-old to come up with. It even took me having to see her drawing with my own eyes to believe that she wasn’t just tracing something.

So, before we started, I ensured her sister was all set up with her paper and supplies at the table. Then, I rolled up both of our sleeves and asked if I could redo her hair.

“Yes, please. He’s getting better, but . . .”

We laugh together. “Your dad tries the very best he can.”

“I know. We always have the messiest hair at soccer practise, though.”

“Well, that’s okay. That probably makes you look tough.”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

Chapter 2 – Marco

I’m completely exhausted after the lengthy custody agreement I was just negotiating on behalf of a client, but the heavenly smell that hits me after opening the door instantly makes me feel better.

And the beautiful music, I assume Bea has on, only improves the ambiance.

But when I walked into the kitchen, I soon realized that it was actually her who was doing the singing.

“Wow.”

Then, she turns around and seems embarrassed that I’d heard her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just—” She rushes to turn the music playing on her phone. I can’t believe how adorable she is with half of her wavy, sandy-colored hair up in a clip and a retro band t-shirt on. Today, she went with Creedence Clearwater Revival. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t notice how amazing her bellbottoms made her round and perky ass look.

Oh, God. Stop being the creepy old guy ogling at his kid’s babysitter, I remind myself.

“You don’t have to apologize. You’re incredibly talented.”

Her cheeks turn adorable and rosy.

“I’m serious. Why haven’t I ever heard you sing like that before?”

“I guess I’m just kind of shy and insecure about it . . .”

“You really shouldn’t be. Heck, if I could so much as carry a tune, I’d never shut up.”

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