Page 10 of Shot to the Hart

Just then, my phone buzzes with an unknown number, I quickly answer, “This is Kodi.”

“Kodi, hi, this is Tatum Reed. I’m the personal assistant to Mr. Hart. You applied for an au pair position to help him with his daughter, and I was hoping you had a few minutes to chat.” My stomach is in my butt, I am suddenly very nervous.

“Yeah, um yes, of course,” I stammer. I need to get it together.

“After reviewing your resume, he would like to bring you in for an interview. Are you still interested?” he asks plainly.

“I am, yes, of course,” I say it more quickly than I intended.

“Great! What does your schedule look like over the next couple weeks?” This response has a little more personality behind it.

We discuss my shifts at the coffee shop, trying to find a time that works for me and Mr. Hart, the potential employer I’ll be interviewing with.

Before I head into work, I shoot off a quick text to my girls.

Me

I got the au pair interview *smiley face emoji*

Darcy

Awesome! When?

Me

Two weeks out. Busy people.

Sin

That’s awesome. You’re going to kill it.

Harley

My newfound sense of peace immediately dissipates as I walk into my shift and see who is standing at the counter with Lyla on his arm. I try to slip past them both to duck into the back and clock in, but I’m halted by that high pitched voice, dripping in venom.

“Oh my God, Kodi, is that you?” Lyla asks, louder than necessary.

I turn around, pasting my fakest grin on, “Lyla, Andy. Good to see you.”

“KJ, this is the new gig?” Andy asks, letting his eyes roam up and down my body while his new girlfriend, fuck buddy, friend with benefits, whoever she is to him, is literally standing right next to him. I’m disgusted.

“For now, yeah, and don’t call me that,” I make sure it comes out sugary sweet.

“Lyla, why don’t you go get a table? I’ll order our coffees.” He pecks her on the lips and sends her to the other side of the small coffee shop.

“I gotta go clock in. Demi can take your order. Enjoy your coffee.” I turn on my heel, clocking in and then coming back out to man the counter, only to see Andy is still waiting, not having ordered his coffee and moved down the bar.

“KJ,” he whispers as he approaches the counter. There’s no one waiting so I can’t even pretend to act too busy to talk to him. “Can we talk? You never answered my text.”

“I know, Andy. I purposefully didn’t.” My anxiety is spiking the longer he lingers, and I don’t have a spare hair tie, so I grab a pen by the register and rhythmically tap it to the counter.

“Listen, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He looks like he’s in pain but I don’t buy it. He just wants to make me feel like I did something wrong.

“Two months later? Little late. I’m fine and you can stop worrying about me now. What can I get you to drink?”

“I’m not going to give up.”

“Well you should, you gave up then. You can give up now.” His presence is draining my patience, “It seems like you don’t actually know what you want Andy.”

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