Page 35 of My Wife
As I ploddown the hallway of the renovated Old Mill building, the words,You are such a failure, echo in my head.
So far, in life, I’ve managed to survive, but I have numerousAlmost but not quiteson my personal scoreboard.
I almost had a family, but never knew my father and my mother cared more about the men in her life than about me.
I almost finished college but was rejected for the non-renewal of my loans.
I almost got acting jobs, but they always hired someone else.
I almost got married, but my fiancé walked out on me.
A long sigh escapes as a sad little cry comes from behind the door. I’m certain Mr. Meanie took the little boy’s cookie away. The monster—for giving it to him at seven a.m. in the first place and then probably tossing it in the trash.
The guy himself could really, really use a cookie.
There’s a children’s picture book calledIf You Give a Mouse a Cookie, but I wonder what would happen if you gave a grump one … or a cake.
I could bake one and find out.
Now there’s the cringe of having to tell Grandma Dolly and Cara that things didn’t work out with Mr. Ellis. The former will wonder why I at least didn’t get his autograph and the latter will hook me up with the locker room custodian position. However, that’ll mean I’ll still have to see that neanderthal on the daily.
When I reach the elevator, I give a wry smile because his socks didn’t match. I shouldn’t have pointed it out. He seems like the kind of person who cares about that kind of thing, doesn’t have a single fingerprint on his vehicle’s windows, and never wears wrinkled clothing.
He’s an uptight monkey butt—yeah, juvenile, but true.
Who’s calling my name? My full name.
I turn around.
He stands in the doorway, and says, “Jessica.”
The little boy tears toward me, arms wide open. I scoop him up and he clings to me like a little marsupial baby.
I wonder where his mother is, but a twinge in my chest makes me worry she is like mine or perhaps she’s a gorgeous and highly successful lady boss who usually takes care of the household, is a powerful CEO, and manages to make a healthy dinner every night, but she’s away on business and her troglodyte husband is playing Mr. Mom.
Yep. This guy would only date, no less marry, a woman with unfairly long legs. Hairless too. I bet she never gets spider stubble.
Liam Ellis grips the doorframe overhead. I’m not sure whether he’s holding up the building with those massive biceps or needs someone to lean on.
“Yes?” I ask, not sure if the child just wanted to say goodbye or if I’m keeping this job I so desperately need. On second thought, cleaning locker room toilets wouldn’t be the worst.
The little love muffin nestles into my neck like he never plans to let go. I don’t sense abuse here—those are red flags I’d see a mile away. My guess is Mr. Meanie does not have the dad thing figured out.
His expression is stony. “I didn’t think it would be that easy to get rid of you.”
“Yeah, well, I know when I’m not wanted.” Which is all the time.
His eyes darken. “You said the team sent you?”
A little burst of hope flares. “I’m good with social media. I’m sure you have an account. I could show it some TLC.”
He tips his head to the side and turns back into the house, leaving the door hanging open.
I take this to mean I got the job. I pump my arm in the air and mouth,Yes!
Liam stalks like a big cat through the grand foyer of the loft. Of course, a guy like him would live on the top floor. I’d expect nothing less even though I don’t know much about his type—the growly, grouchy kind.
The little boy doesn’t let go of my hand.
