Page 37 of My Wife
Or did he change them? His feet are hidden behind the kitchen island. “As you said, you don’t want help. I understand, but as I see it, I can provide you with something you need.”
He chortles, er, chokes?
I take the opportunity to take a few steps in his direction with the express purpose of getting a clear view of his feet.
He asks, “Or do you need the job?”
I open and close my mouth. “You’ve got me there. Yes, I need the job.”
Liam huffs. “And you’ve never been a personal assistant before, so what exactly qualifies you?—?”
If I were a gazelle, there’d be no outrunning him across the wild savannah now. I swallow thickly. The truth is, I’ve mismanaged my life from start to finish. Even though I try to be well organized and present myself as having it all together, somehow, before I get to the ribbon marking the end of the race, I always fall short and fail.
If I were a team of one and the opposition were life, they’d be up by ten points at least.
I’m not surprised he didn’t offer me any coffee, but the fact that he gave his son a cookie from the homemade assortment on the counter, provides me with a response.
I ask, “You’re new at this, aren’t you?”
My vague, yet pointed, question makes him pause for a fraction of a second. He takes a truculent sip of coffee.
“How old is he?”
“Three.”
“When is his birthday?” I ask, hoping he got to blow out three candles.
A full second passes, then another. I glimpse a crack in The Beast’s veneer.
“Jessica, that’s none of your concern.”
My chest clenches. I should retreat, but having had countless birthdays of mine missed or forgotten, I press in. “What’s his full name?”
Hesitating, he clears his throat. “King Liam Ellis.”
A smile plays on my lips because I was not expecting that response in my game ofHow Well Do You Know Your Son?
“So, he wasn’t kidding when he told me his name is King.”
Liam rubs the back of his neck and turns away briefly before having second thoughts. The swizzle returns and not because he’s pleasant to look at in his commanding, confident way. I’m certain there are soft eyes and a smile hidden behind his tough exterior.
Leave it to me to always try to find the diamond in the rough, make treasure out of trash, or repurpose leftovers. Grandma Dolly says it’s because I’m more used to people turning away from me than not. That I need to see my value and accept my self-worth.
Liam is the kind of guy who faces things head-on and whose sole focus is the biggest and best of everything, especially when it comes to hockey, not that I’m paying attention. Much.
So far, the only area in which it seems he falls short is fatherhood. He could stand to attend a how-to class or a convention. Do those exist for new parents? All I know is that I’ve always wanted to be a mom and he seems like he’d rather be on the ice.
“There are going to be a few rules.”
“So I got the job.” Not waiting for his response, I wiggle my fingers, wave my hands in the air, and spin in a circle. “Yay. Thank you. You won’t regret this.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“So what are the rules?” I ask, leaning in.
“No personal questions.” He holds up his thumb, starting to count them off.
I tilt my head. “Come again? But I’m yourpersonalassistant. It’s literally in the title.”
