Page 3 of CTRL+ME
She used a coaster.
Oh god, how do I ask her to move in right away?
“So, your living arrangements? I hate to be blunt, but this is a live-in position only. Josie needs around-the-clock care, and my work doesn’t always allow for this. I need someone I can trust with the most precious part of my life.”
“Of course. My studio is currently on a month-to-month basis—shocking in LA, I know—so it wouldn’t be a problem to let the landlord know and begin moving in within a few days since it’s nearly the end of the month.” Her finger traces the rim of her glass while she speaks.
I nod, considering my next words carefully.
“I’m prepared to offer you the job.” I watch as several emotions seem to pass over her stunningly painted features. I’m going to have to ask for makeup lessons at some point.
“Seriously? I mean, I accept,” she squeals. Her enthusiasm is grossly contagious, and despite my best efforts, I get excited too. I want Josie to meet her right away, but I know she probably has other things to do today, considering this interview was so last minute. Josie will be awake soon anyway, and post-naptime haze is not the best time to introduce strangers. Even such likable ones as Lylah.
“Depending on your schedule, I would love to arrange for you to come back tomorrow and meet Josie. I think you two will hit it off, but sleepy Josie is no one’s friend. Not to mention, she’ll be hungry as soon as she wakes,” I pause. “Josie is still breastfed.”
I wait for the disgust or awkward looks, even the blushing most people give when I announce such a thing, but none of it comes. I don’t know what it is about LA, but most gawk when I tell them I chose to breastfeed. I’m a big fan of fed is best, but along with the many other issues we’ve run into since Josie was born, bottle feeding was just another on the mile-long list. She’s never successfully taken a bottleuntil a couple of weeks ago, and I never had a choice before.
“Super understandable! Mama always knows best. I can give you my number and you can text me with what time works best for you and little?” Her voice is sweet, understanding, everything I’ve been looking for. I bet she sings a mean lullaby too. Every part of me wants her to stay longer; I want more time to get to know her and learn what makes her—her.
“Yes, I absolutely will.” I pull out my phone, and she gives me her number while I save her contact information. “Annnnnd let’s add a photo,” I say, pulling up the camera when she strikes a pose, flashing a perfectly white smile and the cutest tooth gem glinting against the light. She does the same with her phone, snapping a picture of what I’m sure is me looking like an absolute mess, but I don’t stress it.
Can’t I just bottle whatever energy it is oozing from this girl?
“Stunning,” I coo, looking up from my phone and meeting her gaze. No one speaks for a moment as something passes between us, her finger still tracing the rim of her damn glass.
“Tomorrow then,” she says softly.
Tomorrow,” I confirm.
As I walk her to the door, I feel slightly awkward. We’ve connected on such a new level, so I don’t know if I should offer her a handshake or a hug, but Lylah makes the decision for me by offering a side hug.
“Thank you for letting me interview, and for offering the job to me—really. I’m very excited to meet Josie,” she says earnestly, and I nod, watching as she gets into her tiny car. I wave once more, closing the door behind me, and my body falls against it.
Why do I feel like I already miss this stranger?
I think this is the start of a very beautiful beginning, and maybe even an amazing friendship.
THREE
NASTY TEXTS… AT NIGHT
LYLAH
I’m mid-bite of the sweet and sour chicken I picked up on the way home, when my phone buzzes beside me. I told myself I deserved a treat after how well the interview with Tatum went.
Speaking of the devil.
Tatum
I hope it’s not weird texting you already…
But it was so great getting to meet you today, and I truly can’t put into words how thankful I amthat you applied!
Oh my god… she’s texting me.
What do I say back to that? I’m staring at my phone like a fool and chanting to no one but myself, “Play it cool, bitch, play it cool.”
Me
