Page 41 of Unwrapping Romance

“I said come over here,” Paula’s voice irritated me, and I didn’t like her tone.

“No!” Ellie said as her grip around me tightened.

“Elianna, you’re being very rude and disrespectful,” Jack said.

“No!”

“With the right rules, your daughter won’t behave like a monster,” Paula said.

I’d had enough. “Get out,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, get out. How dare you call this child a monster. This interview is over, and you will not be working for Mr. Atlas.”

“Mr. Atlas?” Paula cocked her head.

“You heard my assistant. Get out.”

“Good luck to you, Mr. Atlas. You’re going to need it.” She grabbed her purse and walked out of the office.

“Do we have any other interviews set up?” Jack asked.

“No. The agency assured me that Paula was the perfect candidate for the job.”

“Call a different agency then. I’ll call Eric to pull the car around and take you and Ellie home.”

“We need to go to the grocery store and get some snacks and stuff for her,” I said. “And she needs more clothes and some toys. There’s nothing for her to do at your house.”

“Have Eric take you to the grocery store then. As for the clothes and toys, she won’t be with me much longer. Morgan will find Claire and bring her back.”

I stared at him and shook my head.

“What? What is your problem?” he asked.

“Nothing. Come on, Ellie. We’re going to the store.” I held out my hand to her.

We walked through the grocery store, and I let Ellie pick out the snacks she wanted. We filled the cart with organic fruit snacks, juice, fresh fruit, Kraft macaroni and cheese, cookies, and some frozen items. When we were in the refrigerated section, Ellie picked up a box of the Pillsbury Christmas cookies with the tree on them.

“I want this,” she said.

“I don’t think so, Ellie.” I took the box and put it back.

“I want that! Please, Sierra. Please!”

“Fine.” I grabbed the box and threw it in the cart.

As we headed to the checkout, Ellie spotted an Elf on the Shelf.

“I want this,” she said.

“Oh no.” I took it from her and set it down. “That’s a holiday thing. We don’t do that.”

“You’re denying your child anything Christmas?” the lady next to me spoke.

“She’s not my child. I’m just looking after her. And I don’t think it’s any of your business.” My brows furrowed.

“Poor child. I feel sorry for her.” She walked away.

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