Page 17 of Doctorshipped
“I’ll wait to hear your decision. You have my number. There.” I point to my resume, which now sits in front of him on his leather desk blotter. His eyes meet mine in a look of … respect? Interest? Curiosity? Who knows. This infuriating man is too hard to read.
I turn, trying not to trip or pass out on my way out the door, and I almost make it to the hallway when I hear two words that stop me dead in my tracks.
“You’re hired.”
I don’t dare turn around. He’ll see it all. My bravado will fall and I’ll be fully exposed to him. I keep my back erect and my face toward the door. I nod my head and then I walk out, saying, “I’ll send you available dates and times by email,” right before I pull the door shut behind me and nearly collapse.
* * *
“How’d it go?”Shannon asks when I walk through the front door.
Groucho walks over and plops down in front of me, looking as wiped out as I feel.
“The interview with the doctor?”
“Of course.”
“It’s him.”
“It’s who?”
I pause. Giving Shannon time to put the pieces together.
“What? No!”
“Yep. The girl who needs tutoring is Fiona. Grumpy Grant’s her dad, and I am so done for.”
“Why?”
“There’s this weird tension between us. Probably due to the circumstances of our first encounter.”
“Sure. That’s probably why.” Shannon waggles her eyebrows.
“It’s why. Why else would it be? Anyway, it’s a mess. And I should have walked away, only I couldn’t because it’s Fiona and I really already kinda love her. She needs this support.”
“Why?”
“She’s dyslexic. I don’t know the details, but I know enough about the disorder to know it can mess with a child’s self-esteem because they struggle with processing. Though, I have to say, Fiona is one of the most well-rounded children I’ve ever met. She’s so comfortable in her own skin. So, that’s a good sign.”
“So? You’re tutoring her. Not Grant. You’ve got this.”
“Yep. I’ve got this. I don’t have to see him. I’m there for her.”
“Exactly,” Shannon says.
I decide to pay no attention to the Cheshire grin that spreads across Shannon’s face.
7
GRANT
Ihired Jayme. She nearly dared me to, and I don’t know if it was the challenge in her voice, or the vulnerability I sensed just below the surface, but something snapped and I hired her when everything in me said to let her walk out the door.
I’ve never felt such an unexpected and overpowering desire to kiss a woman in my life. Which is just ludicrous and wrong. I don’t want to kiss Jayme—or anyone. There must be a hundred reasons why I will never kiss her, starting with the fact that I’m never entering another romantic relationship in my life, and ending with the fact that I just hired her as my daughter’s tutor.
Besides, she’s a frazzled, scattered, cheery disaster of a woman. And she flat out told me remaining permanently single is her life’s mission. So, that’s both convenient and definitive. We both are committed singles.
Good. That’s good. Very good.
