Page 176 of Holiday Hire

No, she just needs some time to cool off. Once she's ready to talk, we'll work through this.

I'm dying to pull her into my arms and try to make everything right, but we're past that point. This won't get worked out without a calm conversation.

She said she loved me.

I cringe, thinking about how I avoided acknowledging her admission.

I love her too. But what if we tell my sons about us and then things go wrong? Not only will I be devastated, but they'll be crushed. And I can't stand the thought of hurting them.

Yet I hate seeing Phoebe's expression every time she looks at me.

Several times, I've almost grabbed her and held her until she hugged me back. But the warning in her eyes stopped me.

I need to stop being such a pussy and figure this out.

I put Calypso back into his stall and latch the door. He nuzzles into my chest just as my phone rings.

I pull it out of my pocket and glance at the screen.

It's a number with an area code I don't recognize. I normally send unknown calls to voicemail, but something tells me to pick it up. So I answer, "Hello?"

A woman's voice comes through the phone. "Is this Mr. Alexander Cartwright?"

I sigh, stating, "It is, but I'm not interested."

"Wait! I'm not a telemarketer," the lady cries out.

"Alright. Can I ask who this is?"

"Sure. My name is Corrine Dillard. I'm calling on behalf of Alaskan Higher Hopes Charter School."

The hairs on my arms rise. I cautiously ask, "Okay, and why are you calling me?"

She chirps, "I've been told that you're Phoebe Love's current employer, is that correct?"

My gut drops and my pulse skyrockets. The air turns thick. I reach for the post and reply, "Yes, I am."

"Great," she says.

I stare at Calypso, feeling like my world's falling apart under my feet. I didn't think things could get worse after the last few days, but I was wrong.

She continues, "I've interviewed Ms. Love for a teaching position at our school. She's highly qualified and sounds like a delightful young woman."

I have to force myself to agree, not because it isn't the truth but because I don't want Phoebe to leave, much less go to Alaska. My voice cracks when I answer, "Yes, she is."

"She told me she's been taking care of your sons, Ace and Wilder?"

"That's correct," I affirm, closing my eyes.

She adds, "It sounds like you're raising two wonderful young gentlemen."

I clear my throat. "Thank you."

"On a scale of one to ten, what would you rate Ms. Love's work performance with your children?"

I grind my molars, not answering.

"Sir, are you still there?" Corrine inquires.

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