Page 12 of A Package Deal

“Time to go home, Georgia,” I snapped, general contractor voice in full effect.

Warrick stopped on a dime, his gaze studying the entire length of my body before he patted Georgia’s leg and shifted her to one shoulder. As she slid down to the ground, he got her there safely before standing upright. The smile that had been on his face was gone. A stab of guilt hit but I quickly pushed it away. I only had enough time and attention to care about one other human and that would always be Georgia. Warrick was an adult. He could manage his own happiness.

Georgia, not sensing my anger or perhaps just ignoring it, plucked the flower from her hair and held it up as she toddled over. “For you, Mama! Wa-wy has a whole field of flowers!”

Breaking the staredown with Warrick, I accepted the flower and squatted down to hug my girl. She squealed, pulling away and sticking out her tongue.

“Yucky, Mama! You all gross!”

That got an honest grin from me. Standing back up, I avoided Warrick’s stare as I hustled Georgia to the back seat of my truck where I’d wrestle with the car seat yet again. I felt Warrick’s attention on us the whole time and even that irritated me. The man had been kind enough to watch my child and I knew I should be grateful, but an even bigger part of me was unsettled.

Unsettled seeing Georgia with a man.

Unsettled knowing he’d been able to enjoy a day playing with my daughter when I couldn’t afford to take a whole day off to spend with her.

And if I was really honest with myself…unsettled that some ancient female part of me had perked up at the sight of my daughter and Warrick having fun together. For just a split second, I’d allowed myself to imagine he was Georgia’s father and I was his wife and I could trust a man in our lives.

I really needed to save the fairy tales for the stories I told Georgia at bedtime.

“Tomorrow?” Warrick said from behind me, right before I stepped into the truck.

“Yep,” I tossed over my shoulder and then shut the door, cranking the engine. Warrick watched us the whole time I backed down the driveway. I pretended I didn’t see him.

Georgia spent the rest of the evening telling me every single thing she and Warrick did, along with commentary about flowers, cow patties, and butterflies. I tried not to dwell on the jealousy and tension that flared each time she called him Wa-wy in her sweet little voice. By the time I put her down for bed, her eyes were drooping and she only demanded I read her short book twice before she said goodnight.

I padded to the kitchen to get a glass of water before bed. Checking my phone, I saw I had a single voicemail from someone named Pearl Pippin in response to the advertisement I’d posted all over social media this morning, looking for subcontractors. Her voice was heavily accented but I was able to make out the gist of her message. She lived over in Auburn Hill and was looking for work. I called her back immediately and got her voicemail. I hired her on the spot and told her the address to come to tomorrow morning. I’d only hired one other female subcontractor before, but that had been in my prior life. I hoped this Pearl Pippin would be just as good. Lord knew I needed help with this project to get it done in time.

Finally sawdust-free and ready to give my muscles a solid seven hours of no movement, I sat on the edge of my bed and stretched my back. A hard knock on the front door had me flying down the hallway, rest forgotten. If whomever was here woke up my kid, they were about to get an earful. When I swung open the front door, it was just a stranger walking back to his car on the street. I opened my mouth to shout at him, but didn’t want to wake up Georgia if the knock hadn’t. Also, a fluttering sheet of paper nailed to my front door caught my attention. I ripped it off and scanned it, heart leaping into my throat.

It was a letter from my landlord, John Walter.

Telling me I had fourteen days to vacate the premises as he intended to sell the house.

I sank down to the porch floor just big enough for a single chair and one potted plant, not that I’d had enough time in this house to go out and purchase either. That motherfucker was selling the house? The one I’d just gotten unpacked in? The one Georgia was settling into so well? I tipped my head back, my skull thumping the doorframe. I had to squeeze my eyes shut tight to control the burning. I would not cry. I would not cry.

How many times as a single mother had I felt overwhelmed and defeated these last five years? Probably too many to count. If I cried every time, I’d be chronically dehydrated. I’d walked dogs and cleaned bathrooms with Georgia strapped to my chest when I couldn’t find handyman work. I’d spent nights patting her back and walking the hallways when she was teething, giving up sleep to comfort my daughter. I’d watched her father build his contracting empire on the back of my hard work and then let him fire me when I got too pregnant to work. If all that hadn’t killed me, this would not defeat me either.

I showed up at the crack of dawn, a sleepy Georgia in my arms as I knocked on Warrick’s door. Dark circles under my eyes showed how little sleep I’d gotten last night, doing mental gymnastics to figure out how to best proceed. I needed that bonus, but I needed a full crew to get it done. I needed to move to a new house, but needed the time to house hunt and pack my belongings. I needed to spend time with my daughter, but I also needed her damn preschool to open back up.

And right now, I just needed a cup of coffee and a fucking break.

Warrick swung open the door, his large frame taking up the whole space and sucking the oxygen from my lungs. Dear God, the man had on low-slung pajama pants in some sort of silky gray material that should be illegal on hot men. I had zero interest in a man in my life and yet even I perked up at the sight. Didn’t help that his T-shirt was as rumpled as his hair and a pillow indentation marked his scruffy cheek. Holy shit, even the sprinkling of silver hair on his chest had me breathing funny.

“Morning, Em,” he said, voice scratchy and deep.

A full-blown shiver stole across me before Georgia stirred on my shoulder and reminded me of where I was. Warrick was a client. And I was a mom with only one interest: finishing this damn job on time.

“Wa-wy?” Georgia asked sweetly, rubbing her eyes.

“Sorry I’m early. Just wanted to get started before my subcontractor gets here.” I shifted Georgia, but Warrick must have thought I wanted him to take her. He reached out and plucked her from my arms, spinning around and already getting a giggle out of her.

“Have you ever heard a rooster crow?”

Georgia clapped her hands on his cheeks and rubbed her palms against his stubble. The two already looked cozy together. And I was absolutely not jealous of my own daughter. Nope. Not me. I followed them inside, planning to distract myself with a cup of coffee before I got started. I swung the door shut behind me, but it was intercepted with a dull thud.

“The dumpster eez here,” bellowed the largest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. I stood frozen in my tracks, taking in the skintight jeans, tucked-in T-shirt advertising a beer festival, and the slicked-back bun a ballerina would envy. I’d bet my life’s savings this woman stood over six feet tall and at least three feet wide. “To be clear, the dumpster eez not me.”

Warrick and Georgia were frozen behind me. Took me another second to click it all into place.

---