Page 12 of Tempt

“It’s still insane.”

Her face is flushed from the wine. I didn’t drink, but suddenly it feels as if there’s half a bottle swimming in my veins.

It is insane.

It’s forward and she’s going to think I’m making a play.

Except that’s not true. When I saw Andy smile with her tonight, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’ve been holding for weeks.

Months.

Years.

He seems to enjoy her company, and he deserves to have more attention than he’s getting.

“Daniel, you picked me up in the frozen foods aisle buying ice cream to go with my cupcake for dinner. What part of that screams ‘trust me with your only child’?”

There’s that knowing humor again. The one that makes her sound older than she is.

“You’re a senior. You’re in psychology. Plus, you’re great with him.”

I vowed my kid would never suffer for having one parent if I could avoid it. I want to be the best dad he could have, and while I wish that meant spending every second with him, I also need to do my job so I can provide for him.

“I have class. Ten to three every day, plus Wednesday nights.”

“Andy’s in school until three-thirty. You’d get him from there, take him to dance or soccer if he has it, hang out with him. I’d try to be home for dinner and to see him before bed. I can definitely cover Wednesday nights.”

“What about weekends?”

“You’d be free to do what you like.”

She starts to argue, but stops when I cut her off.

“It’s only until exams. Tenure review is in January.”

Unlike most jobs, the career ladder for academics is more like a leap of faith. You put in the work for four or five years, then jump from one ladder to the other, hoping to catch the right rung.

If you don’t, you’re out.

It’s not enough to do a good job, you have to do a great job. Moreover, senior faculty have toagreeyou’ve done a great job.

“You’d have your own guest bedroom, rent free,” I try, because she’s already hinted her living situation isn’t ideal. “Plus bathroom. And the pay is whatever you want.”

Kat adjusts her bag on her shoulder. “You’re a terrible negotiator.”

“When it comes to my kid, I’ll do anything.”

Her expression softens as she tips her face back to stare at the ceiling. “Dammit, Daniel.”

I straighten. “Is that a yes?”

“When would you need me to start?”

Anticipation surges through me, along with relief that Andy will get the attention and care he deserves. Not because this woman will be around my home at all hours of the day and night.

“Tonight.” I sound so eager, and it’s her turn to laugh.

“Tomorrow,” she corrects, reaching for the door.

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