Page 64 of The Strawberry Patch Pancake House
‘Then what’s it like, Arch? Because I’m as happy as can be about that little girl, but you got one woman pregnant and now you can’t keep your hands off the nanny?’
Jesus, when he said it like that it made Archer sound like a real piece of shit.
His father’s tone softened. ‘Look, I know you’re doing right by your daughter, and I’m proud of you for that. But I don’t see how getting involved with the nanny is a good idea. No matter how cute she is.’
Cute did not begin to explain how he felt about Iris. She was gorgeous and bright and funny and … this was not helpful.
‘You’re right, Dad. Of course.’
‘Of course I am. Sleeping with the nanny? That would make things very complicated. Then what?’
What would happen next? If he slept with Iris, what wouldshewant to happen? Would she want it to be a one-time thing?
Orcouldshe want more? It confused the hell out of him that that idea didn’t scare him. More with Iris could actually be great. They were already living together. His kid already loved her. Maybe this all made sense.
Well, it made sense to him. Maybe it would horrify Iris.
Iris who claimed she never actually wanted children and had only signed onto this job because she was about to be evicted, and now he was what? Planning their wedding?
This wasn’t him.
Archer didn’t have dreams of a wife and a family. He had dreams of being the best chef he could be, of perfecting his skills, of someday earning that Michelin star. And now everything was muddled and he was clearly losing his grip on what he really wanted. On what he’dalwayswanted.
‘Yeah, I don’t know. It would be awkward, I guess. And I really don’t want to have to find someone new for Olive.’
‘So, there’s your answer.’
‘Right. Thanks.’
There was his answer. His perfectly reasonable, obviously correct answer.
And he hated it.
ChapterTwenty-Two
The next day, Iris was in the middle of leading the class in savasana and avoiding thoughts about waking up in Archer’s bed when her phone started vibrating.
‘Let your arms lay at your side,’ she said in her calm, yogi voice while she glanced at the screen. ‘Feel the floor rise up to meet you.’
It was Olive’s school. That couldn’t be good, right? Schools don’t call to just let you know everything was going great.
Iris grabbed her phone and tiptoed toward the door of the yoga studio. She’d been teaching here for nearly a year, one of her longer-held jobs, actually, and she knew where all the creaky floorboards were. She avoided them as she spoke softly to her students.
‘Acknowledge thoughts as they come and let them drift by like clouds in the sky…’ she trailed off as she stepped out into the hallway, pausing next to the giant gold buddha statue.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello, is this Ms. Fraser?’
‘Yes, that’s me.’
‘Ms. Fraser, Olive is sick. She has a fever of one-hundred and one. You’ll have to come pick her up.’
‘Oh … uh…’ Iris glanced back in the little window in the door. Her class was still lying obediently in the dark with their eyes closed. Luckily, this class was nearly over but she was supposed to teach one more this morning.
‘I have to come pick her up like right now?’
The nurse made a noise that Iris was sure was judgmental. ‘Yes, Ms. Fraser. Unless I should call her father instead?’ They’d listed Iris first on the emergency contact forms, since taking care of Olive was her day job and all.
